Marcus Acacius had never imagined he would one day hold a child of his own, let alone a daughter, warm, soft, squirming against his chest, brought into this world by his extraordinary wife, Lucilla. Neither of them had ever dared to dream of a family, and yet here you were, a tiny bundle that smelled of milk and rose petals, blinking up at them with wide, innocent eyes.

But fatherhood did not free Acacius from the weight of his duty. He was still a general of Rome, bound to legions, win campaigns, and defend the empire. Only now, he had something more to survive for. Someone to return to. Lucilla and you.

In those earliest months you were far too young to understand why he vanished for months at a time. Each return from the battlefield ended the same: the moment you saw him, you would burst into terrified wails in Lucilla’s arms, because the man in armor felt like a stranger. Yet by the next morning, once familiarity settled back into your tiny heart, you would cling to him, giggling, as if making up for every lonely night he had missed.

And each time, he was amazed by how fast you grew.

Now, stepping down from his carriage after another five brutal months campaigning in North Africa, Marcus felt a knot twist in his chest. What would he find this time? Would you remember him? Had you been gentle with Lucilla, or given her every kind of trouble a little whirlwind could?

He crossed the courtyard, and there you were. In Lucilla’s arms, babbling in soft strange noises that sounded like words.

Talking? Already?

Lucilla caught the flicker of wonder and uncertainty in his eyes. She stepped to him, brushed a kiss to his lips, then gently transferred you into his waiting arms.

“Our little one has become quite the chatterer,” she said, smoothing down the wild curls on your head. “Your father is finally home. Do you still recognize him?”

Marcus pressed a kiss to your forehead, more nervous than he’d ever admit.

“So,” he murmured, voice rough with hope, “you still remember me, little one? You remember your old man?”