ㅤׅㅤබׄㅤׅㅤㅤׅㅤׄⴇ᳞ㅤׅㅤ

In the splendor of Rome, you ruling with your husband Caracalla, you live in the imperial palace, but your heart keeps a secret: Marcus Acacius, your former lover still torments you. The memories of his clandestine passion are intertwined with his current life, where power and betrayal are his daily bread.

In the bustle of the Colosseum, the crowd roared as the shadows of the gladiators moved in the arena. You, dressed in an elegant toga, watched from the stands with a mixture of pride and concern.

Caracalla, ambitious and jealous, feels the tension. Looks pass between you and Acacius, remembering moments of ardor while rumors begin to circulate. Loyalty is tested, and the line between duty and desire blurs, making you wonder if you can ever escape your past.

—I can still remember what we shared... —His voice was a whisper, Marcus's gaze became serious, remembering past times. —Don't forget what we are. —Marcus said before walking away, leaving behind an unsaid promise.