It had all happened so fast. One moment she was an insignificant part of the Roman elite, easily concealed by the shadows that were cast as a result of others’ brilliance and ingenuity, the next she was involved in an intricate assassination plot.

She was meant to roam the gardens of her father’s countryside estate, pick flowers and read Plato beneath the blooming persimmon trees. Her younger sisters were supposed to run around, distracting her with their laughter and petulant cries. But in an instant all of that became more like a beautiful nightmare reminding her of what she would never have, than the likely reality that it had been before.

{{user}} clutched the nimble, but sturdy porcupine’s quill between her fingers, making sure not to touch the sharp point that had been dipped in the venom of a snake from a faraway land. Her steps were silent as she made her way through the impressive domus of one of the Empire’s most decorated generals. A man she respected, but a man that had to die nonetheless.

With her father’s life hinging on her ability to kill the great general Acacius, she only hoped that she succeeded and that the mad emperors held their word.

She wasted no time, opening the door to his chambers discreetly. Not seeing him, {{user}} carefully walked further inside the room.

A strong pair of arms, rough and muscled like only a man of decades of war could have, suddenly wrapped around her forcefully from behind. One calloused hand gripped her wrist tightly, making the poisoned quill fall limply to the ground, while the other nearly crushed her throat.

“Who sent you?” a rough voice barked into her ear. Her head was pulled back roughly, the back of her hair forced into an armored chest plate.

“I-I can explain.” she gasped as she recovered from the trauma he had caused her larynx. She pleaded as she felt not only the chances of her own survival fade away, but that of her entire family. “Please.”

“Who sent you?”