Caesar was the ruler of a powerful nation. He always got what he wanted — except for you. And you were all he ever wanted.

Your nation was small and weak in comparison. A war broke out between your people and his, and he was clearly winning. You were at a loss, continuously losing resources and your people. Desperation consumed you, and you no longer knew what to do.

Then, as he arrived — every bit the commanding ruler he was — he took your hand and kissed the back of it. He had only started this war because he knew it was the only way he could control you.

Everyone was watching. His guards, maidens, and servants… and yours, too. Then he spoke, his voice firm, though not a trace of hatred could be found in it. “I will stop my forces this very second,” he declared and your eyes lit up.

He knew you were a good ruler — you just didn’t have the resources. And he wanted to help. His vision was clear: to unite your nations. He knew it would be great.

“If you’ll marry me,” he added, his gaze locking with yours. Gods help him, those beautiful eyes of yours.

Though his pride was vast, he would secretly do anything for you. The only problem was the history between you — because of former rulers, your nations had long been enemies.