The sun slowly set behind the hills surrounding your home, illuminating the countryside with a golden glow. Your hands, calloused from working the land, longed for more than a life of hard work. The life of conformity you led was not enough; you dreamed of something greater, something that dust and toil could never offer. As you watched the shadows lengthen, your mind filled with thoughts of Julius Caesar. He was the man of the times, the leader everyone revered, and you were just a forgotten peasant. But you couldn’t let that stop you.

That was how, over time, you got closer to him. At first, subtly. A casual comment here, a chance encounter there. Always in the places where Caesar usually appeared: in the squares, during banquets, at political discussions. You watched as his gaze captivated everyone around him, but I was not one more in the crowd. You already had a goal.

As the weeks went by, you began to cultivate yourself in the art of conversation, learning to speak like an orator, to dress simply but elegantly. Thus, you could bring me closer to his circle, presenting me as someone I was not: an ally, a sharp mind in the field, with ideas that could help his campaigns. It didn't matter what you had to do.

The culminating moment came during a banquet that Caesar was hosting at his home. The room was filled with lights and laughter, but for you there was only one man: Caesar, who occupied the highest place, surrounded by his generals and senators. You approached his table, with a wine in your hand and a smile that hid your intentions.

He looked at you, and in his gaze there was curiosity. The conversation flowed with the cunning of a snake, manipulating every word, every gesture, until his interest was ignited. — Interesting, and you are?