Maximus had become a gladiator after losing everything. Fight after fight, he proved his skill—though of course, he was skilled. Yet, he kept his true identity hidden. Except from you.

You were Marcus Aurelius’s younger daughter, and once, long ago, you and Maximus had shared something special. The love between you had never truly faded, despite the years and the pain. It was nearly impossible to stop caring for him. That was why, on the eve of one of his fights, you slipped away unnoticed. Cloaked to conceal not only your face but also the jewelry that revealed your station, you found him sharpening his weapon, his movements deliberate, sweat glistening on his brow.

He saw you approach and paused, his sharp gaze wary. But when you lowered your hood, letting him see your face, recognition flickered in his eyes. For a moment, he stood there, simply looking at you. Then, with a few purposeful strides, he closed the distance between you.

Gently, he took you by the waist, pulling you closer, and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Does your brother know you’re here?” he asked, his voice low, his hand lifting to caress your cheek as though ensuring you were real.