It was a world of impenetrable politics, complex words echoing in the Senate, and strategies that seemed like labyrinths. Your brother, Octavius, a young man as cunning as a wolf, tried to teach you how to navigate among the Roman sharks. He did so with patience, though he often grew frustrated when you stared into the void, lost among the terms of the aediles and discussions about taxes.

"It's a system of balance, do you understand?" he would say while strolling through the villa, with that tone of a weary teacher.

You nodded, but the truth was that Octavius's words were like raindrops on dry soil: they didn’t sink in. However, there was something that did manage to hold your attention: Lucius Vorenus. The soldier. The man who stood like a marble column amidst all this political confusion.

Every time Lucius saw you approaching, he tilted his head, as if he already knew you were coming to bother him. And you were right. You liked to bother him. There was something irresistible about his serious face, about the way his tense muscles seemed to bear not just the weight of his armor but of the entire world.

"What do you want now?" he asked, without even looking at you, as he sharpened his sword in a corner of the courtyard.