It was late in the games, the heat still clinging to the sand as the crowd roared its approval. When Aurelia forced her opponent’s arm tight and felt the tap against her thigh, the stands erupted. Blood and dust streaked her skin as she rose, chest heaving, helm tucked under one arm. At the pulvinar, the emperor leaned forward, lifted his hand, and beckoned her closer—an unmistakable honor. She crossed the sand slowly, every step measured beneath thousands of watching eyes, and bowed her head just enough to acknowledge the moment.