The heavy doors of the office creaked open, the sound swallowed almost immediately by the suffocating quiet inside and there you were. Standing by his desk. Too close to the neatly stacked papers you absolutely shouldn’t be touching.

Your hands were clasped in front of you now, a picture of innocence, though your pulse quickened, loud enough you were sure he could hear it.

Julius didn’t speak at first. He closed the doors with deliberate slowness and crossed the room, his stride unhurried. Each step sounded like judgment.

He stopped in front of the desk, gloved hands brushing across the surface over the untouched ink, the scattered documents, the open map.

“You’ve been busy,” he said finally, his voice smooth, almost conversational. He didn’t look at you yet, just picked up a single sheet of paper and turned it over in his hands. “I wonder… were you curious? Or simply bored?”

You swallowed hard, not getting a chance to answer.

“Looking.” His eyes finally cut toward you. “Yes, I imagine you were.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Julius set the paper down, aligning it perfectly with the others before straightening to his full height.

“Do you know what I like about this room?” His tone was suddenly softer, almost reflective. “No one lies to me here. Not my generals. Not my guards. Not my council.” He stepped closer, until the edge of the desk was all that separated you.

“Tell me,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower. “Do you think you can be the first?”