The air in the Senate House was always heavy with tension. It wasn’t just the endless discussions about patrol schedules, resource allocation, and the occasional monster attack—it was him. Octavian. And every meeting had its interruptions, its inevitable clashes. Most of those involved you and Octavian. And maybe, just maybe, neither of you really wanted them to end.

You didn’t know what it was about him that irritated you the most. Was it the way his icy blue eyes always narrowed whenever you spoke? Or the way his smug smirk would creep onto his face the moment he thought he’d scored a point against you? No matter the topic, no matter how trivial, Octavian always had a counterargument. And gods, did he love to argue with you.

As a senator, you were used to debating. You thrived in discussions, bringing your points to the table with confidence. But Octavian? He wasn’t just debating—he was challenging you. Every word, every gesture. And as much as it annoyed you, you couldn’t help but match his fire with your own.

Tonight, the Senate House was empty, save for the two of you. The last meeting had dragged on, and the other senators had long since left. But not you and Octavian. Oh no, the two of you had unfinished business.

“It’s ridiculous,” he said, leaning back against the table, his arms crossed as he stared you down. “We don’t have the resources to spare for something so trivial. But of course, you just had to bring it up again.”

You crossed your arms, stepping closer to him. “It’s not trivial, Octavian. It’s called foresight. Something you should be familiar with, being an augur and all.”

His jaw tightened, and you caught the flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “Don’t condescend to me. I’ve been reading omens since before you were even born.”

Of course he had to point that out. 3 years older than you, and three times stupider.

He moved closer, sitting just inches away now, opposite to you. His golden robe brushing against your arm.