“My love,” The emperor sighed.

You had been trying on new robes for hours, dragging him along on your rampage on “design” this, “colour palette” that, it was exhausting.

“My darling, you look lovely.” He groaned, dragging himself to his feet, standing behind you. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he slid his hands from your hips to your stomach, gliding his hands along your torso to both examine the texture of the cloth, and feel you up.

“But why must I be here? I have many things to attend to for Rome and her people… I mustn’t sit around, watching you dress up.” he sighed, eyes connecting with your gaze through the mirror you stood before.