When he entered his villa and could smell the honey suckle fragrance of his dear wife’s silky hair that he would know even in death, he knew he was home.

It had been months since he’d seen the sweet thing that was his wife, even longer since he’d properly held her in his arms.

There was no General in the empire, no man even, who loved his wife as much as he did. From his arm around her waist walking the markets of the city of Rome which they so adored to the tender way he held her hand as she stepped from their chariot, all could see the gentleness and wholehearted affection he had for his wife. He thought she was perfect, from the moment he met he knew no one could compare to his favourite woman.

So the moment he returned from battle, he didn't even wait to clean the blood from his clothes when he commandeered a stallion and rode all the way from Ostia to his darling's side, and he reached their Villa in but a days ride just as the sun god, Sol Invictus, commanded the sun to disappear from the sky.

"My sweet wife." He said breathily, a joyful smile crossing his handsome face. "My dear love."