The night was hot, smoke from the torches swirling around them, whores on the street reaching for him and Scorpus. A group of children followed them, their faces smeared with dirt and desperation. Hard life, low life. His kind of life. But everything is material to build up something, just like what he did with the betting tavern. Denarii falling, making that delicious bell sound, hands reaching, shouting. White! Red! Gladiators, charioteers. Still, the air was filled with the last game celebrations, streets packed with citizens, fires, wine. He moved past the columns, deeper, into the chambers. The scent of all kinds filled the air: spicy, sweet, choking. Everything his senses knew and dreaded. Familiarity.

A world not strange to him, but for you? Yes. He had keen eyes for the rich... for your kind, as he didn’t let slide when he saw you. The same one from the games. Because the third one, you, you were the silk that covered the statues, because you were the flower closed in the cage, because you were Vespasian’s third child. A military commander, a ruthless but efficient autocrat, and you. Just stepping into his betting tavern. Even in disguise, he knew you, and he was surprised the poorer ones hadn’t torn you apart already. But this? This will be interesting. So he followed you. Your hand may reach past the ranked ones, but here? Oh, definitely not.

As you entered the dimly lit tavern, the noise was deafening. Men shouted bets, coins clinked, and the smell of sweat and wine mingled in the air. Tenax watched you with a curious blend of amusement and suspicion. You tried to blend in, but your demeanor, your clothes, even your hesitant movements screamed out of place. Tenax approached.

"Lost?" he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.

You looked up, trying to hold your composure. "I'm looking for someone."

"Aren’t we all?" Tenax’s voice cut through the din. "But in a place like this, it’s not who you’re looking for that matters. It’s who finds you first."