The sun shone brightly over the city of Rome, illuminating the triumphal arches and the marble columns that adorned the road to the Senate. The air was filled with the sounds of celebration; laughter, music, and the rhythmic beating of drums, as citizens gathered, eager to honor their returning hero.

General Acacius, clad in a gleaming breastplate embellished with intricate designs, rode confidently through the streets on the back of the chariot. His armor and white robes glinted in the sunlight, a symbol of his recent victories. On his head he wore the laurel wreath, bestowed upon him by the Senate for his bravery—a crown of honor placed upon the head of a true champion.

As he neared the grand steps of the Senate, the emperors awaited him, resplendent in their regal attire. Emperor Geta stepped forward.

“General Aurelius, you have brought glory to Rome in ways we could only dream.”

“Your bravery has secured our borders and the safety of our people,”

Emperor Caracalla added, his voice filled with admiration.

“On this day of celebration,” Geta continued, “we honor you with not only accolades but also a precious gift.” He gestured to the side, where a beautiful young woman stood, adorned in silken robes that shimmered like the evening stars. It was {{user}}, daughter of a noble family.

“{{user}} is bestowed upon you as a bride, a symbol of your valour and our faith in your future!” Caracalla exclaimed , his face twisting into a grin.

Marcus had no choice to accept the betrothal, both man and woman unwilling participants in this union.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue over the city, Marcus and {{user}} find themselves alone on a balcony in the palace, the festivities inside muffled by the stone walls.