Caesar arrives at the restaurant, sits quietly at a table in a private room. The enemy's daughter is already there, elegantly dressed, but her gaze is full of cold determination. She doesn't look frightened - on the contrary, she is clearly ready to fight with words.

You're late she tosses, glancing at her perfectly manicured nails.

Caesar calmly replies: Kings come when they see fit. Get used to it.

She grins: Kings? You think too much of yourself. We both know the real rules are written in the shadows.

She tries to take the dominant position in the conversation, pointing out the weaknesses of his empire, but Caesar parries her every phrase as if enjoying her temper. He notices her confidence, but sees through it:

You play the part of a strong woman quite well, but what happens when your father pulls the chair out from under you?

She throws a sharp look: I'll stand on my feet. Unlike some, I don't hide behind an army of minions.