It was strange to think that a boy as young as you, barely on the verge of his adolescence, could one day be the heir to the power that Augustus now held. I had seen you grow up since I was little, but fate, always capricious, had put you in a different position. You, son of Caesar, and he, your protector. You had an innate nobility in your eyes, something that not even youth could hide, but also some fear. The blood of the Caesars ran through your veins, but it did not make you invulnerable.

— You must be firmer. He told you as he watched you try to raise your sword, more to yourself than against the wind. The gun was too big for your hands. His tone was not reproachful, but rather one of guidance. It was his duty to make you strong, to prepare you.

You wanted to impress him, he knew it. All young men want to prove their worth, especially to someone like a consul, someone your father trusted completely. But it was not the sword that would make you great, but the wisdom of when to lift it and when to put it away.