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mikiruie · 4 months ago

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𓈒⠀⠀⠀⠀︵︵ ⠀◟ † ◞ ⠀︵︵ㅤ⠀⠀⠀⠀𓈒 ⠀

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ♫₊ ⊹ 𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷𝔂 𝓽𝓪𝓹𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓻𝔂 : 𝓁𝒶𝓂𝓅 ﾟ。ꪆ୧. 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓼 𓂃 ˖ ˚◞✧

── HAYATO SUŌ ﹕ 蘇枋隼飛 ┊͙ WIND BREAKER ࿐

𓋜 wbk. masterlist // general masterlist.

premise. you thought it’d take a lot to frazzle hayato suo of all people, but a little downpour during your first date ends up proving you wrong.

content. hayato suō / f!reader. fluff — sfw. somewhat established relationship (first date). 1 petname (sweetheart). suo is taller than reader. suo is in love + a nervous wreck.

word count. 4.1k

soundtrack. rainy tapestry : lamp.

écoute chérie! ᰔ this is a repost from my old bloggie + edited a lil ‹𝟹 @luffysprincess @tetsuskei

19:57

“Attention all park-goers, the fireworks display for tonight is cancelled due to the untimely weather.”

The overhead speakers loudly declare several times to the entirety of the amusement park of the recent development, with a few still turning their heads in confusion at the sudden announcement.

“We’re sorry for the cancellation and we hope to see you again soon. Please make your exit out of the park, and have a great rest of your night."

Suo’s hand is grasped firmly in your own as he leads you out of the designated fireworks viewing zone, in tow behind you both are the several hundreds of other disappointed families making their way out.

“It’s really coming down now . . .” You heard their worried whispers and begruding moans as they hurriedly gathered up their kids, quickly brandishing whatever means they could scrounge up to shield the young children from the rain. Blankets, jackets, umbrellas, bags— whatever was available.

Unclear at first glance in the darkness of the night, rain clouds have already begun to form over the park. Your head cranes up to the sky to take a peak when a couple droplets of water hit the tip of your nose and slopes of your cheeks as light trickles of rain start to shower from above, quickly increasing in intensity at an alarming pace and drenching those who were unfortunately caught in it’s torrential downpour.

Dozens of children can be seen and heard crying into their mother's laps across the viewing area, covered in hastily bought clear plastics ponchos while holding extinguished sparklers in tiny, freezing cold hands.

Some quietly trudge behind their parents in sadness, their sneakers and socks getting soaked by the puddles of water that have begun to form on the ground while they walk while others wail and tug their relatives back towards the grassy clearing, whining and pleading for them to stay behind.

“You’re shivering,” Suo comments, concern lacing his voice. He pulls you closer to him, still walking along briskly as his hand begins to rub up and down your arm. Goosebumps stand to attention atop the surface of your skin underneath your sweatshirt, responding to the sudden change of temperature in the atmosphere.

What was predicted to be a clear, warm spring night ended up being a freezing, rain-filled one instead.

Suo pulls his damp jacket off his shoulders, draping it over your own instead. The scent of his jasmine-scented shampoo and hints of the oolong tea he drank at the café you two visited earlier in the day are immediately recognizable, wafting in the chilly air as you pull the fabric tighter around your figure.

“I’ll be fine,” You insist, still bowing your head lightly in response to his gratitude and trying to ignore the chill that has begun to sneak up your chest underneath your clothes. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?”

Suo’s jaw tightens at your question, before responding with a curt “Yeah.” It’s quick and terse, the tone of his voice unbefitting of his character.

“Just keep that on you, okay?” He asks, “Your parents won’t like it if I let you catch a cold.”

Passing by a small girl on the way out whose sitting on a bench crying to her parents about missing the fireworks show, the slight dip in Suo’s usually relaxed expression doesn't go unnoticed by you. His hold on your hand tightens ever so slightly the more saddened families he walks past, the pace of his footsteps quickening with each puddle he unintentionally splashes in.

The water kicks up and onto your socks and shins, a dull chill growing in your lower half each time.

“. . . I'm really sorry,” He manages to speak again after some time pondering in the silence, the exit of the amusement park becoming clearer in the distance with a sigh.

Your head tilts, pulling his jacket’s hoodie up and over your head to shield your neck from the downpour. For a split second, a part of you wonders if he’s apologizing for soaking your shoes.

“For what?”

"I didn't know it'd rain so hard tonight that they'd have to cancel the fireworks display."

You perk up to meet his face, deciding to give him a comforting smile. He reciprocates with a half hearted, polite one of his own— clearly annoyed but not wanting to take it out on you.

The Suo you know would never do something like that anyways.

“I said it’s okay.” You assure him gently, fastening your pace to keep up with his steps. “You couldn't have known this would happened in advance."

It was true, nobody had prepared for this outcome at all. The weather forecast for the night said it would only be a light drizzle; with the park's staff not even being aware of the cancellation until fifteen minutes before the viewing, when they were told to rush out the emergency ponchos and begin handing them out to the guests who were waiting for the fireworks show before one of the staff got on the loud speaker to address the viewers.

“I know, I know,” Suo runs a hand through his hair disheartenedly, eyebrows knitting in frustration when you finally exit the park. He quickly finds and pulls the both of you underneath a nearby overhang to shield you from the ensuing rain, making sure you’re the one closest to the wall despite being more drenched than you are thanks to his jacket.

“It’s just . . . awful that our first date ended up like this.”

Suo’s pristine, cleanly pressed and ironed white shirt is now littered and stained with little specks of rain, wrinkled with splotches of water lining the chest area, and his watch decorated in tiny shimmering droplets that slide off and drop to the ground into larger puddles below your feet.

Both your eyes shift around and towards the entrance, noticing the other families that slowly begin to trickle out group by group, each one just as disappointed as the others before them.

“Hey. Cheer up,” you tease, ripping your gaze away from the sour sight, nudging his shoulder with your own in an attempt to ease the tense atmosphere.

The drenched fabric clings to his muscles, slightly translucent and showcasing his flawless skin underneath as he pulls his jacket tighter around your body in haste.

“Well would you look at that,” You hum while he zips it up for you, it almost feels like he’s becoming one of the parents you saw in the park from earlier. “Mature, calm and collected Hayato Suo— getting all frustrated because of a little drizzle?”

“You know it’s not that,” he rebuffs, out of breath and shaking the wet strands of hair that stick to his cheeks and forehead with a heaving sigh. The crease in his eyebrows becomes more prominent than before, his frustration clearly showing with how he stares angrily at the soaked stone tiles beneath your feet with a huff.

"I just can't believe this,” you hear him mumble underneath his breath, looking up and around at your surroundings when the rain begins to pick up, several families standing around nearby as some are looking at signage for bus routes or getting into their cars in a hurry.

“Our first date, and I've already screwed it up."

Your stare quickly hardens at his self depricating words, feeling sympathetic for the usually put-together man whom you’d never guess could become so bothered by something quite literally out of his control, by nature’s circumstances.

“You’re being too hard on yourself.”

Your eyes flicker to meet his in the darkness as you take his cold face into your hands, where the only light that reveals him to you comes from a lone lamp post just shy of you two, reflected in the curtain of rain that blankets you on all sides.

“You didn't screw this up," you reassure him again, this time more firmly as you stand your ground, doing anything in your power to lighten his dreary disposition. “Stop beating yourself up, Suo. It isn’t going to be the end of the world that a little rain ended up crashing our date, you need to stop worrying yourself to death over this.”

Even in the chaos that surrounds the two of you, your quiet but firm words manage to reach his mind when you notice the way his gaze visibly softens upon seeing the concern your eyes hold for him.

Suo’s shoulders relax, his arms falling to his sides in defeat and fatigue. He looks tired, worn out and disappointed all in the same vein, so you let him rest his head on your shoulder, carding your fingers through his hair and separating the clumps from within while you do so.

“I’m sorry, I feel like I’m getting your clothes even more wet—” he begins to apologize yet again, attempting to pry himself from your hold quickly when you shove him back into your arms with a huff.

“If you say sorry one more time, Suo, I’m going to pinch you.”

For once since the rain had started, Suo lets out an amused chuckle. A genuine one.

“Alright, alright.” He concedes, letting himself rest once again atop your figure. Suo’s a decent amount taller than you, meaning he has to slump a little in order for him to lay his head on your shoulder. You try to stand on your tiptoes in an effort to reduce the distance, straining your legs to try and match his height.

“Is this uncomfortable for you?” You ask him hesitantly, worried that he might strain his neck or back if he keeps this up. He murmurs into your shoulder in response, his words muffled by both the sounds of rain around you and the fluffy material of your sweater.

“I’m alright,” you make out faintly in the silence, and you continue to brush through his wet hair as he takes the time to quietly regain his composure.

You've never seen Suo so frustrated before until now, and over something that he had nothing to do with. For as long as you had known him for, Suo had always been levelheaded no matter the circumstances, being the type of person who doesn't go undeterred when things don't go his way or how he intended.

Hayato Suo doesn’t get bothered at the little things.

Hayato Suo doesn’t get annoyed at the minor inconveniences.

But you can't deny the irritance displayed prominently on his face and in his body language when it's presented right in front of you. The way his knuckles clench and his fingers dig into the soft skin of his palms when he feels the rain beginning to come down harder around you two, bouncing off rocks and soaking into the grass below.

The calm mask that Suo normally wears seems to slip off for a brief moment when with you as he visibly swallows, finally lifting his head up and shoving his hands into the damp pockets of his pants.

He steps back from you, an awkward laugh bubbling it's way up his throat in his attempt to soothe over the situation as he beams down at you.

The smile he gives you doesn't even reach his eyes.

“Ah, I'm sorry things had to turn out like this.” He apologizes again, like he's been doing repeatedly in what only feels like the past fifteen minutes; an attempt to assure you that he genuinely is. He’s much more collected now though, you feel relieved in that aspect at least. "I really am, is there anyway I could make this up to you?"

You shake your head again, mouth pulling into a disgruntled frown. “I told you it's fine, you don't need to keep apologizing for this, Suo.”

“But it's not fine,” he laments, the facade of his effortlessly maintained persona slipping once again as he grimaces when the rain from his hair trickles and drips down onto his face, wiping the raindrops away with the crumpled up sleeve of his shirt.

“I wanted to do something special to end off tonight with you,” he confesses wearily, and you feel your heart sink. His voice is tinged with disappointment, a reflection of his own self-frustration.

He looks away, hoping to avoid eye contact whilst staring off to the paved parking lot beside you two, ashamed of himself. “Someone like you deserves a better first date than . . . this."

You scoff at his statement, huffing as he keeps depricating himself. It’s infuriating, and your words are pointed to embody that. “Suo, what's so bad about this first date, hm?"

Suo’s face morphs into one of startled confusion, stuttering lightly when he turns back to face you. He chuckles unsurely as if you've just told a good joke.

“What do you mean? Do you not see what's happening around us right now?"

He gestures to the still remaining families that surround the entrance of the amusement park nearby, most of the children having calmed down from their earlier states of despair but still appearing to he visibly deflated by the rain and cancellation of the fireworks. Most are preoccupied with a device or toy of their choosing while being shielded from the rain by coats, signage or the strollers of their younger siblings.

Disgruntled parents stand just out of reach trying to figure out the best routes to take home, arguing with the park's staff about refunds for the fireworks show while heckling them about the poor management and lack of communication with the staff and park-goeres.

The chill of the wind can be felt through your soaked clothes, goosebumps rising all over your arms that cause you to shudder. Everything begins to slow down to what seems like a barely moving standstill; anything from outside of your little bubble with Suo being reduced to a snail's pace in your eyes.

The quick movements of those surrounding you become like smear frames in the distance, the raindrops still raging on even more heavily now serving as the only remainder of reality; the only constants being the sounds they make when they fall from the darkened sky up above onto the two of you.

“Does this look like a perfect first date to you?”

Suo’s question snaps you back momentarily, the pace of the world resuming in an instant. He waits for your response; arms crossed over his damp shirt and wearing a skeptical expression on his face that is mixed with something else that you can't quite discern otherwise.

Confusion, frustration, anguish?

Your lips purse in thought for a brief moment, which he promptly takes as his answer as he rambles out another hasty apology before you can even properly respond. “See what I mean? Look, I'm so sorry about all this. I swear, if you let me take you out again next time I can do better—”

“Hayato.”

The sudden use of his first name stuns him into silence as he immediately stops. You stare at him only for a few seconds but they feel like a century, gulping down his dry throat as he waits for your reply. A sense of worry envelops him when you don't respond immediately, uneasiness in his voice when he speaks again.

“Yes?”

You step towards him to fill the space between you two, the feeling of the soaked soles of your shoes slosh around in the puddles underneath making shivers shoot up through the calfs of your legs. Suo’s gaze follows you expectantly, his eyes afraid to leave yours when you reach for his hands from deep inside of his pant pockets.

“What are you—” “Shh.”

They're cold to the touch from the cold rain and wind chills of the night when you hold them in your own, thumb brushing over his dry knuckles and settling into the folds of his palms.

“You were lying about being fine earlier,” you conclude, smoothing your fingers over the grey-blue veins underneath his skin. You press your hands over his, hoping to warm them up with what little body heat you have left.

“I wasn’t lying.” He quips, and you tut lightly. “You could’ve just kept your jacket on, you know.”

“But then you’d be cold if I didn’t give it to you.”

“Do you really think I can’t handle a little rain?”

“What makes you think that I can’t handle some rain myself too?”

This little back and forth of yours is getting nowhere you realize, and you instead shove both of your hands into the pockets of Suo’s jacket he wrapped you in earlier faster than he can oppose to. You feel his hands warming up instantly when combined with yours inside his jacket, the blood that runs through his veins slowly unfreezing as you intertwine your hand with his.

“Well, you know what upsets me?” Suo’s face drops at your words, shock overtaking his face for a moment before you finish your sentence.

“You haven't even asked me about how I felt about the date yet.”

Suo blinks owlishly, his eyebrows unfurrowing as confusion settles into his face again at your response, letting you continue your spiel.

“This whole time you’ve been going on n’ on about how you ruined our date, how you’re so sorry and everything,” the frustration in your voice is evident, and your nails dig lightly into his palms. Suo isn’t bothered by the feeling, instead clasping your hands together further as your voice begins to grow louder in annoyance.

“But if anything, you shouldn’t be saying that— I should be! So, ask me! Ask me, Suo! How did I feel about this supposedly awful date!”

It’s silent for a few beats after your voice trails off, and you’re suddenly reminded of the fact that you’re yelling at your date in a very public location.

Embarrassed, your heart thrums in your chest worriedly, wondering if you’ve accidentally said a few words you shouldn’t have before noticing Suo slowly breaking out into an unsteady laugh, shoulders shaking with mirth as you finally heave a sigh of relief at the fact that the timid smile he shows you this time does reach his eyes.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Suo apologizes for what seems to be the twenty-seventh time in the past hour alone, this time more freely before pulling you in closer by the hip. It’s a lot warmer with your bodies pressed up against each other, and his head settles into the crook of your neck again with a hum.

“What did you think of our date then, hm?"

Suo’s breath feels hot against your skin, a sharp contrast to the chill that circulates in the air around, carried through the rain and wind in it's journey. Bodies swaying blissfully in the darkness, hidden away from the blaring headlights of the cars pulling out of the parking lot underneath the overhang.

Sparkling specks of water drip and fall down around you, pooling into that puddles that have for sure already begun to ruin the bottoms of your shoes. Rainwater has begun to seep through the soles, your socks becoming victim to the nature of your circumstances.

The wet fabrics of your clothing clings to the sides of your figures, the image of Suo collarbone and upperhalf of his chest glazed underneath his shirt teasingly as you try to take a peak at what is hiding underneath.

Suo’s hair is fully drenched, no longer straightened and parted neatly in the middle, clumped and pushed to the side from when he ran his hand through it. Droplets of water drip from his cheekbones and eyelashes in perfect spheres, cascading down the edge of his jawline in a resemblance of tears.

Even when soaked to the core, like a frenzied housecat who got caught in the sudden rain; Suo looks just as handsome as the day you returned his feelings. As beautiful as the day you accepted his confession underneath the cherry blossom trees of the park nearby Furin High School.

Your voice is low, settling into the background sounds of the rainfall. “Well. I think that our date was wonderful," you reassure him yet again, smiling as your fingers dance over the nape of his neck and ghost over the sensitive skin mischievously. “Even without the fireworks."

Suo looks unsatisfied with your answer, confused and beginning to ask you questions in rapid-fire succession like you’re being interrogated for a job offering.

“But the fireworks were the whole reason you came here—” He begins to say, sucking in a cold breath of air, his tone laced with hesitance and uncertainty.

"Aren't you, disappointed . . . ? That you didn't get to see them?"

"No, Suo," you chuckle lightly, shaking your head in exasperation as to how he managed to come to that conclusion in the first place.

Logical, thoughtful and methodical Hayato Suo.

“I didn't come for the fireworks, I came for you.”

As wonderful and flashy as fireworks are, and indeed what could be considered major highlight of a trip for many of the visitors of Makochi’s amusement park, your heart was never dead set on seeing them.

“It was never about the fireworks in the first place.”

Fireworks can be seen anytime and anywhere, but your first date with Suo could never be repeated. Could never be replicated in the same genuine, wonderful, picture-esque way it is now to you.

“It was about you.”

Heat floods his cheeks immediately at your words, so genuine and sweet, dusting them a light shade of red as he smiles in tandem with you. “. . . Well, I'm pretty sure you didn't come here with me to get rained on towards the end of our date, though," he jokes, bringing a hand out of his pocket to cup your cheek. The warmth radiating from your skin defrosts the chill in his palm that grew when he pulled away from your hands almost instantaneously.

“It wasn’t about the fireworks for me either," he confesses slyly, his words piquing your interest.

“Oh?” You egg him on jestingly, prodding at his chest with light pokes that are increasingly exaggerated with each of your words. “What was it about for you, then?”

Suo’s head drops onto your shoulder again in quiet laughter. “Let’s just say this . . .”

His fingers smooth over your jawline tenderly, eyes soft and heart full of love— same as when he first confessed his feelings to you.

Hayato Suo, a man who you never thought could be so smooth before, whispering into your ear, “It was all about wanting to kiss the most beautiful girl underneath the fireworks as the perfect end to our date,” he teases.

“Well, how does that sound?”

“Who said it had to be under the fireworks?” You ask.

“No one,” he shrugs, “But it would've been quite romantic if we had.”

A grin of your own grows on your face immediately, tongue swiping over your lips in anticipation.

“We can . . . still kiss right now, if you want.”

“While we're soaking wet?” He laughs, drawing his face closer to yours while doing so. His hands itch to grab hold of your face and pull you in, to close the minuscule gap between you two, but he holds himself back in fear of overstepping his boundaries.

“Are you sure?”

Suo looks to you for permission, lips barely an inch away from your own. The steady rising and falling of his chest is accentuated by his sopped shirt clinging to his frame, hot breath fogging up in the cool night air.

You nod, without a doubt in your mind, finally connecting the distance between you two. Suo smiles into the kiss, eyes closing in satisfaction while his hands stay planted at your hips, respectfully and never straying away from their hold.

The taste of rainwater is evident on both of your tongues, the two of you giggling as the twinkling sounds of rain and ripples of the puddles flow through the atmosphere around.

Suo’s the first to pull away, hesitating when he chases your lips one final time before reeling his head back to catch his breath.

Even in the darkness, only illuminated by a street lamp several feet away; Suo’s cheeks are rosy with euphoria, eyes crinkling with sparks of happiness flying throughout.

His forehead leans against your own, the wet strands of his hair sticking to his head. The whites of his teeth gleam when he smiles, quietly whispering for your ears to hear only.

“Maybe I should make sure it's raining again when I take you out on our second date, then.”

reblogs ++ comments are greatly appreciated !! ꒰ ˆ ᗜ ˆ ˶ ꒱

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#wind breaker x reader #suo x reader #hayato suo x reader #wind breaker fluff #suo fluff #suo hayato #hayato suo #wind breaker imagines #wind breaker #𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 ﹕ 𝓪𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 ৻ꪆ #ウインドブレイカー * ( wbk )

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divaofmads · 25 days ago

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The Sinner’s Temple

Marcus Acacius x OC

A/N : This story is entirely non-canon. In the first film, Commodus wounded Maximus before stepping into the Colosseum to fight him, hoping to secure his victory. In this version, I am writing under the assumption that he succeeded. This means Commodus continues his reign with all his traumatic past and immoral personality intact. And since I really admire Joaquin Phoenix in that film, I figured—why not use him while I can?

A/N 2: I apologize for the mistakes I made in English that is not my native language and I am trying to improve my writing skills.

Summary: Commodus wanted to completely abolish the Senate, but a senator named Cassius, aware that his loyalty would ensure his survival, swore unwavering allegiance to him. However, Commodus once saw Cassius’ young daughter at a very young age and convinced himself that he could find the love his own family never gave him in her heart. He spent years waiting for the day she would grow up so he could marry her. But fate had already written a truth that would shatter all his plans.

!!Warnings!!: Non-Canon, Chronological Mistakes, +18, Fluff, Smut, MDNI, Angst, Big Age Gap (F 19 - M 50), No Y/N, Toxic Relationship, Possesive Marcus, Protective Marcus, Obsessive Commodus, Forbidden Romance, Oral Sex to woman, Fingering, Loss Virginity, Violence, If you're bothered by the fact that I don't write according to fan fiction rules, then don't read my work. Writing is just a hobby for me. I'm not a professional. I write to unwind after a long day at work.

Word Count: 13k

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The heart of the Roman Empire, the magnificent city where golden lights shimmered through the streets, was cooling with the evening breeze as always, in breathtaking beauty. Valeria walked through the garden of her family’s villa, surrounded by grand columns. Her long, wavy, light brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, and the simple white tunic she wore highlighted her serene elegance. Yet, her mind was in turmoil; her father had spoken to her about his long conversation with Commodus. A growing unease stirred within her—tonight, she would face the presence of this powerful man at dinner, and the thought weighed heavily on her heart.

Commodus was the ruler of the Roman Empire, but he was also arrogant, self-absorbed, and intoxicated by power. When he first laid eyes on Cassius’s daughter, Valeria, he had fallen in love with her—a golden opportunity for Cassius. However, unlike her father, Valeria was indifferent to the blinding glow of power.

That night, by her father’s command, Valeria was led to the private hall prepared for her dinner with Commodus. The room, illuminated by candlelight and adorned with golden details, resembled a royal feast, while the scent of jasmine flowers drifted in from the garden outside.

Commodus slowly rose to his feet as he saw Valeria enter. His eyes carried the shadow of a long-hidden desire. He wore a deep red toga, and on his right hand was a ring crafted from gold. With all his grandeur, he smiled at her.

"Valeria," he said, his voice both strong and soft. "You are as beautiful as a queen and as fearless as a warrior. I can see the spirit of Athena within you. Only you can be the wife Rome needs."

Valeria saw the unhealthy persistence in Commodus's eyes. His words proved how deeply he had thought about her, but her heart remained unmoved.

"Honorable Commodus," Valeria said with a graceful coolness in her voice. "I am honored, but tell me, what great favor do you expect me to be grateful for?"

Commodus never believed she would dare to refuse him. He smiled and stepped closer.

"I am not here to restrict your freedom; on the contrary, I am here to elevate you. As the Empress of Rome, no one would dare touch you. You will be raised above where any mortal could ever reach."

Valeria did not avert her gaze as she stood firmly before him. "But what is the meaning of being a queen in a place where a woman cannot love freely?" she asked.

A flicker of surprise appeared on Commodus’s face.

"Freedom…" he repeated slowly. "I understand the value of your freedom. That is why I am not offering it to you. I am offering you something far greater—the power of Rome. With me, you can build a world far beyond the limits of your own freedom."

Valeria took a deep breath. To her, Commodus’s love felt like a gilded cage—beautiful and golden, yet still a cage.

"If there is no other choice but this marriage, then you leave me with no choice at all, Commodus," Valeria said. "My heart does not beat for an empire."

These bold words momentarily startled Commodus. The mask of admiration on his face briefly gave way to anger, but upon witnessing Valeria’s determination, his expression shifted back to a smirk.

"That courage of yours is precisely what I love, Valeria," he said, a dark amusement in his voice. "But never forget—only I can match your courage."

Valeria knew this encounter was not an end but a beginning. She could feel that Commodus would not give up on her easily. Yet tonight, she would make it clear to everyone that her heart and freedom were not things to be easily claimed.

The Emperor took a few steps forward, leaning against the edge of the table, and gazed into Valeria’s eyes.

"Valeria…" he said, his voice now calmer but carrying an underlying sorrow. "Do not see my love for you as a command. It is a feeling older than all the splendor of Rome. Even when you were a child, I saw something in your eyes—an innocence no one else possessed. Something that was never granted to me since the day I was born… love. And I know that love exists only within you."

Valeria stood her ground, trying not to flinch at his words. In his eyes, she saw something breaking—but also the cold-blooded calculation of a predator watching its prey. Commodus hesitated for a moment, as if realizing that even revealing his own feelings was a weakness.

"I want to have you because only with you... I feel like I can be human," he continued. "You will be my balance, Valeria. I have never loved anything as much as I love you. To reject this love will not only lead to my ruin but yours as well. Because in Rome, there is nowhere you can escape from me."

Valeria's heart tightened. Commodus’s words only further revealed the magnitude of the danger she was in. But she held her head high, her gaze still locked onto his eyes with unwavering determination.

"Emperor Commodus," she said, her voice calm yet carrying the unyielding strength of steel. "My respect for you is boundless. However, you cannot expect me to bear your feelings as a burden. My heart does not beat to fulfill your desires."

Her words lashed through Commodus like a whip. His eyes narrowed, and the slight smile on his lips faded into a cold, emotionless expression. Even the warm candlelight filling the room could not dispel the darkness surrounding him. Slowly, he straightened, his tall figure casting a shadow over Valeria.

"Valeria," he said, his voice now disturbingly soft rather than sweet. "You misunderstand me. This is not a proposal. I came here to inform you that we will be married."

Valeria took a step back—not as a sign of fear, but as a deliberate move to step out of his shadow.

"You say you want my love, Commodus. But if you ever believe you have won me, know that there will be no love in that victory. Your promises are nothing but a gilded cage to me."

With those words, Commodus lost control entirely. His fists clenched, his golden ring pressing tightly into his palm. His eyes, dark and dangerous like those of a predator, fixated on Valeria.

"You truly have no idea what you are doing," he hissed. "But you will learn, Valeria. I will give you time to think. Three days… In three days, you will give me your answer. But if that answer is 'no'..." He paused, a dreadful silence settling over the room. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered with a painful sorrow, but it quickly hardened into cold resolve. "...the price you will pay will not only fall upon you but upon everyone you love."

There was no trace of fear on Valeria's face. Instead of breaking her resolve, Commodus’s threat only strengthened it.

Commodus lingered for a moment, staring at her. Then, with a sharp turn, he left the room, his footsteps echoing against the stone floor, leaving behind only Valeria and her unwavering defiance.

At that moment, Valeria understood more than ever how dangerous Commodus could be. But she already knew what her answer would be in three days. And that answer would ignite a war that would change the fate of the Roman Empire.

Minutes later, the sound of approaching footsteps filled the air. This time, it was her family.

Her father, Cassius, entered the room with his usual authoritative stance. His sharp features were drawn with tension, and his graying hair only accentuated the severity of his furrowed brows. Behind him stood Valeria’s older brother, Fabius. The young man carried himself with confidence, his shoulders squared in a display of self-assurance. The opulent gold embroidery on his toga spoke of his ambition, but the cunning glint in his eyes unsettled Valeria more than anything.

Cassius came to a halt before Valeria, his gaze lingering on her composed yet resolute stance. For a brief moment, there was admiration in his eyes but it quickly turned to fury.

"Valeria!" he thundered, his voice so powerful it seemed to make the candle flames flicker. "What do you think you are doing? Speaking to Commodus like that endangers not only your life but all of ours!"

Valeria refused to bow to her father's anger. Without breaking eye contact with his stern face, she responded in a calm voice, "Father, I am merely fighting for my freedom. What he feels is not love, but domination. And I will not submit to such a bond."

Cassius hesitated for a moment at her words. But his sense of duty and his family's safety overpowered his conscience. "This is about more than an individual’s freedom, Valeria! This is how the order of Rome works. If the Emperor has chosen you, you must obey!"

At that moment, Fabius interjected, a mocking smile playing on his lips. He turned to Valeria, his gaze sweeping over her poised stance with thinly veiled disdain.

"Oh, of course, Valeria," he said in a taunting tone. "Our beloved little sister, always the shining star. But tell me, is this bravery, or sheer foolishness? Your so-called 'honor' may very well lead to our downfall."

Valeria did not respond to Fabius's words.

"Father, perhaps Valeria needs some time alone to truly understand the realities of Rome," he said, turning to Cassius. "Maybe she should realize how exhausted we all are from constantly protecting her."

Cassius gave a nod of approval at Fabius’s suggestion, but Valeria’s stance remained unshaken.

"Fabius, there’s something you don’t understand," she said. "If your power comes from the downfall of others, then that power is nothing but a hollow shadow."

Her father voiced his disappointment once more.

"When the Emperor asks you again, you must be rational," he said, his voice softer this time but still carrying an air of authority.

As Cassius and Fabius left the room, Valeria was left alone. But solitude was not a weakness for her... it was a silence in which she found herself. That night, she lifted her head toward the sky, gazing at the shining stars above Rome. Under these very stars, she would make her choice: to surrender or to fight for her freedom.

And this choice would be the first step in a rebellion that would go down in history.

The grand arena of Rome was filled with a crowd buzzing with excitement. The sky was a clear blue, and the sun bathed the arena in golden light. The gladiator games, held by the command of Emperor Commodus, were a celebration of a victorious military campaign. In the stands, from the lower classes to senators, everyone greeted the gladiators with the same fervor. Yet, the Emperor’s private box stood apart in its unmatched splendor.

Emperor Commodus sat at the very center of the box, reclining on a throne adorned with golden embroidery. His attire was as magnificent as that of Rome’s gods; the deep purple cloak draped over his shoulders was a symbol of his unquestionable authority. Seated beside him was his sister, and behind him, to his left, sat Valeria, the daughter of his close friend, Senator Cassius. The young woman carried herself with noble grace, yet her gaze held both sharp intensity and a deep melancholy.

Valeria was dressed in a red *stola*, its delicate fabric rippling elegantly with her every movement. The golden leaf motifs on her belt reflected the wealth and nobility of Rome. Her dark chestnut hair cascaded over her shoulders, styled with a golden crown adorned with leaf patterns, glistening under the sunlight like a divine emblem.

Despite Commodus’s suggestive words and the frequent glances he cast in her direction, Valeria kept her eyes fixed on the brutal battles unfolding in the arena. Yet, her indifference only seemed to intrigue Commodus further.

"What do you think, Valeria?" Commodus asked, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Do the passion of these gladiators not reflect the greatness of Rome? Just like us..."

Valeria turned her head slightly toward him, a polite yet icy smile appearing on her lips. "Yes, Your Majesty. The gladiators do indeed reflect the grandeur of Rome," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of irony. "But only for a fleeting moment. One moment they live, the next they die."

Commodus narrowed his eyes as if he had deciphered the deeper meaning behind her words.

Just as Valeria was about to shift her gaze back to the gladiators, a new figure emerged at the entrance of the stands at Commodus’s command: General Marcus Acacius.

As Marcus entered the Colosseum, he took a brief moment to survey his surroundings. He was no stranger to the chaotic energy of the gladiator arena, yet this place always stirred conflicting emotions within him. It was meant to symbolize war and honor, but at times, it served as a stark reminder of the darkest facets of human nature.

At Commodus’s signal, Marcus proceeded toward the imperial box. His gleaming armor was adorned with golden accents, yet it bore a simplicity that made it clear he had no interest in mere ostentation. His face, hardened by years on the battlefield, was defined by sharp lines, but in his eyes, there remained a flicker of compassion.

Upon reaching the box, Commodus rose to greet him.

"Ah, General Acacius! The sword and honor of Rome! We are most pleased to have you among us," he declared.

Marcus saluted formally. "Your Majesty," he replied. Yet, the moment he lowered his salute, his eyes fell upon Valeria. Seeing her up close for the first time, he found himself unexpectedly captivated.

Valeria was unlike the other daughters of the Senate members. While they carried a facade of elegance, she possessed an inner strength and depth that set her apart.

Commodus noticed this exchange of glances, and a cunning smile crossed his face.

"Ah, I see you have not been introduced," he said smoothly. "General Acacius, this is Valeria, daughter of Senator Cassius. Valeria, this is General Acacius—one of Rome’s most valiant commanders."

Valeria, though she recognized the nuances in Commodus's introduction, responded with graceful poise, inclining her head in a courteous greeting. "General Acacius," she said. "I know of you from your victories on Rome’s battlefields."

Marcus offered a slight smile. "Lady Valeria," he replied, his voice carrying a deep, commanding presence. "You are known for both your grace and intellect. Now I see that such words were never an exaggeration."

Yet, as Marcus watched Valeria, he felt a growing unease. Knowing of Commodus’s obsession with her made it nearly impossible for him to acknowledge the pull he felt toward this young woman.

Valeria, too, sensed the weight Marcus carried as she met his gaze. This man was not just a general; he was a soul burdened with the weight of Rome and a sorrow that came from the battlefield.

In that moment, in the emperor’s private box, two fates intertwined for the first time. But this meeting did more than link their destinies—it ignited a spark that would change the course of Rome itself.

As the sun reached its peak, the Roman arena grew even more alive. The crowd roared with excitement, their cheers echoing against the stone walls. The scent of blood lingered in the air, mixing with the dust that rose from the sandy ground. Seated on his throne, Emperor Commodus let his gaze drift across the gladiators below, reveling in the spectacle.

Beside him, Marcus Acacius watched with growing discomfort. Despite the many battles he had fought, there was something ruthless in these games that unsettled him.

In the arena, two gladiators faced off. On one side stood a towering Thracian, gripping two short swords with jagged edges resembling shards of bone. Opposite him, a lean yet agile Nubian gladiator twirled his spear with remarkable precision. Both were drenched in sweat and fatigue.

The Thracian lunged forward with a sudden, powerful strike, but the Nubian dodged by rolling backward, evading the attack just in time. The crowd erupted in frenzied shouts. Each step, each clash sent up bursts of dust, making the combat all the more dramatic.

Valeria remained silent throughout the fight. Her eyes carefully followed every movement in the arena—not with admiration like the crowd or Commodus, but with calculation. She studied the gladiators' tactics, analyzing the logic behind every step and maneuver.

Noticing a slight misstep in the slave’s defensive stance, she murmured under her breath, almost unconsciously.

"If he had shifted his foot just a little to the side, he could have deflected the attack."

Marcus Acacius heard her words. He glanced at Valeria from the corner of his eye, unable to hide his surprise. He had never seen a woman observe gladiator fights with such focus—most attended merely for entertainment or to display their social status. But Valeria watched the arena as if it were a battlefield.

"Watch the Nubian," she said this time. Her voice carried a certainty that cut through the chaos of the arena and reached him directly. "He is more agile, but he hesitates too much. If he gets cornered, the Thracian's strength will overpower him."

Another observation.

"The strike is coming from too wide an angle. If he could move faster, he could throw the Thracian off balance."

Marcus could no longer resist. He turned to Valeria. "Lady Valeria," he said, his voice laced with curiosity. "Your knowledge of gladiator combat techniques is remarkable. What has given you such insight?"

Valeria paused for a moment. When her eyes met Marcus’s, she lowered them slightly, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"Oh, General," she replied with a hint of playful irony. "I am merely intrigued by the aesthetics of movement. This is all just a matter of entertainment, is it not?"

Marcus noticed her sudden shift in demeanor. The way she dismissed the subject so quickly made him suspect she was hiding something. But why? Why would the daughter of a senator possess such a keen understanding of gladiatorial combat and battle strategy?

She was not merely a decorative figure of the imperial elite. The way she studied the arena was far from that of a casual spectator. Valeria could analyze the logic behind every movement, recognize tactical mistakes. This realization left Marcus with even more questions.

The fight had ended, and the golden sands of the Colosseum were now stained with blood. As the crowd cheered for the victorious gladiators, Commodus rose from his seat. His eyes fixed on Valeria, and with a warm smile, he approached her.

Valeria felt uneasy under the intensity of the emperor’s gaze.

"Wasn't that fight spectacular, my dear Valeria?" Commodus’s voice carried both warmth and an unmistakable air of dominance.

Valeria responded with a delicate smile. "Of course, Your Majesty. Your gladiators delivered a truly magnificent performance."

Marcus could sense Valeria's discomfort under Commodus’s watchful eyes.

"Lady Valeria," Commodus said, stepping closer. "You will be the guest of honor at our banquet tonight. Isn't that right, Marcus? I'm sure General Acacius agrees with me."

Marcus hesitated for a brief moment but then nodded politely. "Your Majesty, of course."

Valeria wanted to escape this situation quickly. With a slight curtsy, she said, "Your Majesty, if you would permit me, I would like to join my friends."

Commodus nodded, granting her leave, but his eyes held an expression that suggested he had no intention of letting her go so easily.

As Valeria's delicate curtsy and swift steps carried her away, she left behind only Commodus and Marcus Acacius in the imperial box.

"General," Commodus said, his voice both relaxed and bearing the authority of a ruler. "Look at this arena. Rome’s power is forged within these stone walls. But this alone is not enough. We must expand our borders further—beyond the Alps, and then to the riches of the East… Tell me, Marcus, do you think my dream will come true one day?"

Marcus pretended to ponder the emperor's question, though the answer was already clear in his mind—he merely had to force himself to speak it. "Your Majesty, under your will, Rome’s borders can stretch beyond imagination. However..."

His voice drifted slightly as his gaze followed the corridor where Valeria had disappeared moments ago.

Commodus noticed this lapse in attention. He placed his wine goblet on the table, his eyes sharpening as he studied Marcus. "However what, Marcus?" he asked, his tone now more pointed, more inquisitive.

Marcus straightened himself and took a step forward. "However, Your Majesty, a vision of such magnitude requires both military strength and internal stability. While we battle our enemies abroad, maintaining balance within Rome is just as crucial."

Commodus seemed pleased with this response. Yet Marcus's thoughts were still elsewhere—on Valeria. Her voice, the subtle smile on her lips, the mystery in her eyes...

As soon as his conversation with Commodus ended, Marcus left the arena in search of Valeria. His footsteps echoed through the corridors, his mind fixated on the enigma she presented. Though Commodus favored her, she visibly tried to keep her distance from him, a fact that intrigued Marcus more with each passing moment.

While passing through a side passage that led to the Colosseum’s garden, a faint growl followed by a soft laugh made him pause. Turning his head towards the source of the sound, he spotted Valeria in a secluded space.

But she was not alone.

Beside her lay a wolf majestic and imposing, its massive paws resting against the earth. Its fur was as dark as the night, yet it shimmered with a silvery sheen. Valeria was stroking the beast’s head, speaking to it in a calm, soothing manner.

For a moment, Marcus could hardly believe his eyes. This was not a sight one encountered in Rome.

He approached cautiously. "Lady Valeria," he called out, his voice tinged with both astonishment and admiration.

Valeria turned to face him. The wolf, sensing the general’s presence, tensed, ready to revert to its wild nature but Valeria calmed it with a gentle touch.

"General Acacius," she said. "You managed to find me."

Marcus kept a careful distance from the beast as he stepped closer. "A senator’s daughter and a wolf," he remarked with a slight tilt of his head. "Not a sight one often encounters. Where did you find this animal?"

Valeria smiled faintly, running her fingers through the wolf’s thick fur. "This wolf belonged to General Maximus," she said, her voice suddenly carrying a solemn weight. Her eyes seemed to drift toward a distant memory. "When he died, the emperor’s sister, Lucilla, gifted him to me. I believed he carried a piece of Maximus’s spirit… and it was a great gesture on her part."

Marcus stared at her in quiet surprise. The name of Maximus was legendary in Rome.

"General Maximus…" he murmured. "I did not know you had a connection to him."

Valeria’s gaze remained on the wolf’s piercing eyes. "I wish I had known a man like him," she said. Her voice held both admiration and longing. "I have devoted myself to understanding his vision. His courage, loyalty, honor… Everything Rome needs was in his heart. But, unfortunately, life is rarely just."

Marcus found himself captivated by the depth of her words. "Maximus was truly an extraordinary man," he said. "But listening to you, I feel as though you have done much to honor his legacy."

Valeria gave a small, enigmatic smile in response, but there was a secret hidden in her eyes.

"To honor something, one must first know how to protect oneself, General," she said. Then, as if wanting to change the subject, she added with a teasing tone, "And what about you? Are you afraid of wolves?"

Marcus noticed this sudden change but chose not to dwell on it. With a slight smile, he said, "As a soldier, we cannot allow fear to take hold of us. But to be honest, the presence of such a wild animal does surprise me."

Valeria laughed. "A fair observation," she said. "But don’t worry, he is loyal only to me. He won’t bite you."

Marcus was even more impressed by this revelation. The fact that a woman had tamed such a wild beast spoke volumes about her strength and uniqueness. "You intrigue me more with each passing moment, Lady Valeria," he said, his eyes fixed on hers.

Valeria did not respond immediately. Just as she was about to speak, their silence was interrupted by the voice of the emperor’s sister, Lucilla.

"Valeria! Marcus!" she called, approaching them gracefully. "His Majesty wishes to see you at the banquet."

Valeria stroked the wolf’s head one last time before rising to her feet. "Of course, Lucilla," she said with an elegant smile.

Marcus, meanwhile, found himself looking into Valeria’s eyes, struggling to suppress his desire to speak with her more.

The splendor and power of Rome were on full display at the grand imperial banquet. Gold-gilded columns, statues of gods adorning the walls, cushions draped in the rarest and most exquisite fabrics, and grand dining tables filled the hall. Throughout the night, the city’s elite mingled among dancing slaves and wine-drinking nobles. Before the lavish couches, golden goblets brimmed with the finest wines, and the tables overflowed with exotic delicacies—roasted quail, honey-glazed pork, plates adorned with dried figs and pomegranates. Musicians transformed the feast into a spectacle, playing to entertain the guests. The melodies of lyres and flutes filled the air with a delicate melancholy. Whispered conversations, the clinking of wine cups, and the savoring of carefully prepared meals blended into the atmosphere.

Valeria, dressed in a crimson gown, sat at the table’s forefront. The women around her observed the unfolding events with a mix of grace and quiet ambition. However, their gazes often drifted elsewhere...frequently settling on General Marcus Acacius.

A wealthy noblewoman, Livia, praised Marcus for both his stature and his esteemed rank. "It is truly a blessing for Rome to have such a handsome general," she said, her eyes gleaming. "Not only a brave leader but also a bold man. A true hero."

Valeria elegantly held her wine cup, casting a glance at the women. Though she noticed their predatory expressions, she maintained her composed demeanor. However, a subtle unrest stirred within her.

Seated beside her, Antonia had been observing Marcus’s lingering glances toward Valeria all evening. With a playful smirk, she interjected, "But I have noticed something," she said, casting a knowing look at Valeria. "General Acacius keeps watching you. His gazes are far too meaningful… Surely, you’ve noticed?"

The other women exchanged glances, nodding in silent agreement. Livia’s smile momentarily tightened. "Of course, if Commodus were to notice this, the consequences would be quite clear," she said, keeping her eyes fixed on Valeria.

Valeria calmly set her goblet down. Her gaze flickered toward Marcus, who had momentarily looked away from her but soon lifted his head once more, his eyes meeting hers. She offered a faint smile and lowered her head slightly before replying, "I believe you are overthinking things," she said. "General Acacius does not look at me that way. I am certain that no one occupies his thoughts outside of Rome’s wars and victories. This is merely a misunderstanding."

The women remained skeptical, but a shadow of doubt took root among them. Livia leaned in slightly, her smile thin and laced with amusement.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her tone subtly teasing. "Acacius seems interested in more than just war tonight—he seems interested in you."

Valeria hesitated for the briefest moment. Throughout the evening, she had worked to ignore Commodus’s watchful gaze, and now she was also acutely aware of Marcus’s interest. But it gave her no sense of comfort. Suppressing her unease, she responded with quiet confidence, "That is nonsense," she said. "Men like General Acacius look at victory with hungry eyes. That is all you need to understand."

The women finally fell silent, though their minds continued to churn with speculation. They did not entirely believe Valeria’s words, yet the social hierarchy and its unspoken rivalries forced them to let the matter drop...for now.

As the warmth of the banquet slowly dissipated, Commodus leaned back in his gilded chair, his gaze drifting toward the table where Valeria sat. He gestured toward his servant, Servius, beckoning him closer. Commodus’s voice, as commanding as ever, carried a softer undertone this time.

"Deliver a message to Valeria," he ordered. "Tell her to meet me in the garden by the temple."

Servius bowed in acknowledgment and swiftly set off to fulfill his duty. Commodus’s eyes lingered on Valeria’s shimmering silhouette in her crimson dress. His expression was a complex blend of desire and determination. To him, Valeria was not merely a woman...she was an unattainable victory. And Commodus was not accustomed to leaving things unfinished.

When Servius delivered the emperor’s message, a flurry of whispers erupted among Valeria and her companions. Antonia’s eyes widened as she turned to Valeria.

"The garden by the temple?" she said, her voice rising with curiosity. "Just you and him? How could you possibly refuse?"

Valeria took a deep breath before answering. "This isn’t right. I do not share his feelings, and I don’t know how to make him understand that."

Livia reached out, gently squeezing Valeria’s hand. "Valeria, Commodus is not just a man...he is an emperor. Rejecting him… it could mean disaster, not just for you, but for your entire family. The Senate and the people’s support are weakening by the day."

Antonia, smirking, chimed in with an amused tone. "Don’t worry, Valeria. It’s obvious why he’s summoned you there. Accept his marriage proposal...become empress. You’ll live in comfort for the rest of your life."

Valeria shook her head firmly, inhaling deeply. "I don’t want to talk about this," she said, her voice a mix of resolve and unease. Despite her friends' pressures, she moved toward the garden with measured steps. However, knowing how unpredictable the emperor could be, she made sure to keep her wolf close.

The garden by the temple was cloaked in the silence of the night. Towering pine trees blocked out the moonlight, while marble benches and ivy-covered columns lent the place an almost enchanted air. Commodus sat on one of the benches, his expression both tense and resolute.

As Valeria stepped into the garden, she felt her heartbeat quicken. Commodus’s eyes immediately locked onto hers.

"Valeria," he said, rising slowly to his feet. "Come, sit with me."

His gaze flickered around the space, sensing the presence of the wolf. Just as Valeria found comfort in the creature’s looming shadow, Commodus felt unsettled by it...as if it carried the ghost of Maximus himself.

Valeria hesitated before stepping forward, bowing politely. "Emperor, I have come at your request."

Commodus gestured to the seat beside him. "It was not a command, but a request," he said, his voice soft yet authoritative. "There is no one else here, Valeria. Just you and me. No one will hear us. We can speak freely."

He fixed his gaze on her. "Valeria," he began, "my father never loved me. To him, I was nothing more than a burden...not a son. Maximus…" his eyes darkened as they flicked toward the wolf. "Ah, that cursed Maximus. He always made me feel like I was lesser. Like I was nothing but his shadow. But you, Valeria… you are different. When I look into your eyes, I see myself. The real me. And that is why I love you."

Valeria listened in silence as Commodus took another step closer.

"Tomorrow, the time I have given you runs out," he continued. "Say yes. Become Empress of Rome. Stand by my side, and together, we will make history. But more than that...know that I truly love you. This is not just a marriage proposal."

Valeria’s expression wavered. Commodus’s eyes reflected sincerity, yet something deep within her told her that something was terribly wrong. She averted her gaze, speaking slowly.

"This is a decision of great consequence."

Commodus’s lips curled into a faint smile, but for a brief moment, his eyes darkened. "Of course," he murmured, his voice dropping. "But I will not wait forever."

As Commodus’s obsessive words filled the air, Valeria instinctively avoided his gaze, choosing instead to remain silent. The emperor awaited her answer impatiently, but Valeria’s mind was still caught on Marcus Acacius’s lingering glances from earlier that evening.

Then, suddenly, movement flickered in the farthest shadows of the temple. Commodus’s guards had been loosened by the revelry of the banquet, their vigilance dulled. And in that moment, a whisper echoed through the temple’s quiet corners.

"Now."

Valeria’s sharp eyes caught sight of three figures emerging behind Commodus. Each of them draped in dark cloaks, each gripping a short blade, their approach slow and calculated.

She tensed, her voice low but urgent. "Behind you."

Commodus merely chuckled, dismissing her concern. "Relax, my dear Valeria. Who would dare lay a hand on me?" he mocked.

But before he could finish his sentence, the first assassin struck.

Valeria, without hesitation, grabbed Commodus by the arm and pulled him aside, narrowly saving him from the assassin’s strike. As Commodus fell to the ground, one of the attackers immediately targeted him, and they began to grapple. Another assassin raised his sword, ready to drive it into the emperor, but Valeria instinctively stepped in front of Commodus, deflecting the incoming blow. With swift precision, she kicked the attacker’s wrist, forcing him to drop his weapon. Seizing the opportunity, Valeria swiftly picked up the fallen sword. She tore away the excess fabric of her dress, freeing herself from its burden, and immediately took a battle stance.

Valeria’s fighting style was as strong and precise as that of a gladiator. She moved aggressively, skillfully blocking every strike the assassins attempted, maneuvering as if she were in an arena. Commodus watched in awe at her prowess while simultaneously struggling against his own attackers. Yet, he was soon overpowered and pinned down once more.

Breathing heavily, Valeria shouted, "Asinus!" At her command, a dark silhouette swiftly slipped through the temple’s open doors. Her ever-loyal wolf, always by her side, bared its white fangs and growled menacingly before lunging at the assassins. As the wolf attacked, Valeria took down another assassin. Two of the attackers had already been neutralized, and the third attempted to flee but Valeria’s piercing gaze did not allow it. At her signal, Asinus leaped onto the last remaining assassin, snarling as it aimed for his throat.

Meanwhile, back in the banquet hall, the joyous laughter of the guests abruptly turned into terrified screams. A second wave of assassins had stormed through the temple’s main entrance, their swords and daggers cutting down innocent bystanders. The panicked guests trampled over golden goblets and silver platters as they tried to escape, while Marcus Acacius’s soldiers sprang into action.

Marcus did not hesitate for even a moment. Drawing his sword, he barked out orders to his men. "Form defensive groups! Get the people out!" His commanding voice rang out over the chaos as he pushed toward the temple’s main platform. "Where is Commodus?" he demanded, but no one could provide a clear answer.

Then, a servant stammered, "The emperor and Lady Valeria... they are in the back of the temple!"

Marcus’s eyes darkened. "Alone?" he asked sharply. The servant nodded.

Marcus raced through the temple’s rear corridors, his breath steadying as he reached the scene.

There, against the backdrop of gilded marble columns, Commodus was cornered by four men. In front of him stood Valeria, fiercely defending the emperor as she fought off two assassins. Her movements were swift, her stance unwavering. Wielding a short dagger she had seized, she skillfully parried every strike. Beside her, her loyal wolf, Asinus, growled and lunged at another attacker.

Marcus hesitated for a brief moment, startled by the scene before him. He had never realized just how powerful and skilled Valeria truly was. But his surprise was fleeting... there was no time for hesitation. With a swift motion, he drew his sword and charged forward.

"Valeria, fall back!" he shouted.

But Valeria ignored his command. "My place is here!" she declared.

Now, Marcus and Valeria stood side by side, fighting off the assassins together. Marcus’s sword clashed with an attacker’s dagger, the sharp ring of metal against metal echoing through the temple walls. Every strike was strong and deliberate... his skills as a general evident in every move. Meanwhile, Valeria moved with calculated speed, strategically diverting the enemies’ attention.

At Valeria’s signal, Asinus lunged forward, taking down another assassin. As the wolf secured its target, Valeria turned her focus to the remaining attacker. With a swift strike of her dagger, she slashed at the assassin’s arm, forcing him to drop his weapon. But just as she gained the upper hand, an unexpected blow struck her from behind, sending her crashing to the ground.

Marcus faltered for a split second, his breath catching. "Valeria!" he called out.

But there was no time to hesitate—the battle raged on. Marcus forced himself to focus, cutting down two more attackers before finally rushing to Valeria’s side.

Valeria had suffered a deep wound to her shoulder. Blood spread across her red dress, staining the golden embroidery. Yet, despite this, the determination on her face remained unwavering. “I’m fine,” she said in a weak voice. “Just keep saving Commodus.”

Marcus admired the courage in Valeria’s eyes, but he could not leave her behind. “No, we fight together,” he said firmly. “No one is leaving you here alone.”

When the last attackers were finally subdued by Marcus’ soldiers, the temple fell into a deadly silence. Commodus sat on the ground in a corner, watching everything unfold in stunned disbelief. His gaze locked onto Valeria. He knew she had saved his life, but this only deepened his obsession with her.

Marcus carefully lifted Valeria from the ground. “A woman like you is far too valuable to Commodus,” he said, though there was a note of admiration in his voice. Valeria met his eyes and smiled faintly. “I only did what was right,” she replied. But the glimmer in her gaze conveyed far more than her words.

Asinus sat quietly beside Valeria, while the marble floor was now marked with the scars of battle.

The air in the temple remained heavy with the scent of blood and smoke. Commodus’ voice rang out in the eerie silence left by the clashing swords. “Who did this?! Who would dare attempt to assassinate me?!” His eyes burned with fury, making it clear that those responsible would face a severe punishment.

Marcus Acacius swiftly took control. “Seal all exits,” he commanded in a booming voice. “No suspect is to escape. Search every corner!” The temple was once again filled with movement as soldiers took their positions at every door, questioning everyone inside. Commodus stood tall, taking deep breaths, his anger not only directed at the assassins but also at the humiliation of such an attack in front of his people.

Just then, Valeria suddenly staggered. Commodus’ eyes fixed on her trembling hands and the pallor overtaking her face. “Valeria!” he shouted. Valeria swayed as if the ground beneath her had disappeared, then collapsed hard onto the floor. Without hesitation, Commodus caught her in his arms. “What’s happening to you?!” His voice, once furious, was now laced with fear.

Marcus immediately rushed to their side. “What’s going on? Lay her down,” he ordered. As Commodus gripped her hands tightly, Valeria whispered weakly, “I… I’m cold…”

Marcus carefully tore the fabric of her dress near the wound. The gash on her shoulder had turned a dark red, surrounded by an ominous black hue.

Marcus studied the wound intently, his expression darkening. “It’s poison,” he declared, his voice tense but resolute. “The blade was coated in a deadly substance.” The darkening blood seeping from her wound was a clear sign of the poison’s spread through her body. “This is a toxin we encountered before in our legions. Aconitum… Wolfsbane.”

Commodus' eyes narrowed. “Do you know what this is?”

Marcus nodded grimly. “Yes. It’s a poison derived from a plant. It spreads rapidly through the bloodstream, paralyzing the muscles and slowly shutting down the organs. But for it to act this fast…” He glanced at Valeria, his voice turning grave. “This version has been enhanced... deliberately made more lethal.”

Commodus’ fury deepened. “Who could be behind such treachery?! Whoever orchestrated this assassination must have also supplied the poison. This is a declaration of war!”

Valeria’s breathing grew shallower, her chest barely rising and falling. Commodus, torn between his anger and his fear of losing her, clenched his jaw. “How do we save her?” he asked, his voice almost pleading.

Marcus hesitated for only a moment before speaking with determination. “I know someone who can help her. A healer. She has the skills to slow the poison’s effects—perhaps even cure her.”

Commodus’ expression hardened. “Where is this healer? Bring them here!”

Marcus shook his head. “There’s no time for that. We must take her there immediately. The poison is spreading fast. Valeria’s strength is extraordinary, but this poison is fatal for anyone.”

Commodus hesitated. “Taking Valeria away from here is dangerous. How do we know the attackers won’t try again?”

Marcus responded with a steely voice. “The assassins are still inside, and my men will find them. But Valeria has no time! If we don’t get her out now…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but Commodus understood the weight of his words.

Commodus gritted his teeth, his eyes flashing with a mix of rage and helplessness. “Save her,” he finally said, his voice hoarse and weary. “But if anything happens to Valeria, the blame will fall on you, General.”

Marcus met his gaze sharply. “Nothing will happen to her.” Commodus hesitated before carefully handing Valeria over to Marcus, his fingers lingering on her pale face. “Bring her back to me, Marcus.”

Marcus gave a firm nod and lifted Valeria into his arms. “Asinus! Follow me!” he commanded. The wolf, having never left his master’s side, now walked silently behind him.

As Marcus carried Valeria away, he was certain he could save her. But he would not forget the fire of rage and suspicion in Commodus’ eyes. This was not just a rescue mission...it was a test of fate, one that would determine both Valeria’s life and Marcus’ own future.

As the moonlight illuminated Rome’s bloody and chaotic night, Marcus Acacius carefully placed Valeria’s nearly motionless body onto his horse. Her pale face was as pure and fragile as a white marble statue. Her eyes were closed; her lips barely moved with a breath so faint it was almost a whisper. Marcus, as if trying to feel her warmth, tightened his trembling arms around her and placed her in his lap.

“Hold on to me,” he whispered, his voice low yet determined, only loud enough to be heard in the silence of the night.

The poison slithered through Valeria’s body like a silent predator, setting her veins on fire. As Marcus held her arm, he could feel her pulse weakening rapidly. Every passing second made it clearer that this dangerous journey was her last hope. Listening to her fragile breathing, for the first time, he felt not the usual rush of battle but sheer helplessness and fear.

Gritting his teeth, he muttered to himself, “No, I won’t lose you.”

The wound on Valeria’s shoulder had darkened, her skin turning cold. As Marcus urged his horse forward with urgency, a storm of emotions raged inside him. Why did he care so much about her? Why did he feel such desperation for her survival? He had saved countless lives on the battlefield before, but this… this was different

The rhythmic sound of the horse’s hooves echoed through the cobbled streets, accompanied by a silent shadow—a wolf following closely behind them. Valeria’s loyal companion ran effortlessly alongside them, its keen eyes watching over her. The beast moved with an unyielding resolve, as if it refused to let any harm befall its mistress.

Marcus glanced at the creature and thought, Just like your owner. Silent, yet possessing a devastating power.

Valeria’s hair fluttered in the wind, her delicate neck exposed to the moonlight. The wound still oozed dark liquid, the poison creeping through her body at a slow but deadly pace.

As Marcus looked at her, he could no longer restrain himself. It wasn’t just her beauty—it was the mystery and strength she carried within her. She had a nobility that neither an aristocrat nor even a female warrior could match. He remembered how she had tamed the wolf, how she had stood fearless against assassins, how she had displayed unwavering courage in the temple. Watching her had stirred something in Marcus that was more than admiration.

But that feeling left him vulnerable.

This isn’t right, he scolded himself. She belongs to Commodus. And you… you are just a soldier.

Yet despite these thoughts, holding Valeria in his arms dragged him into an emotion he had never known before.

“Hold on, Valeria. I swear to you, I will save you.”

Through the darkness, Marcus Acacius rode toward the healer’s humble stone house. The moonlight cast long shadows on the sturdy walls, revealing the simple yet solid structure. As the horse’s hooves broke the silence, a faint glow from the window indicated that someone was inside.

Marcus’s weary face was etched with worry, and Valeria’s pale form still lay lifeless in his arms. The wolf followed like a ghost, occasionally pausing to sniff the air.

Jumping off his horse, Marcus carefully lifted Valeria into his arms. At that moment, he realized how light she was. But that weightlessness did nothing to ease the burden in his heart—it only made it heavier.

Reaching the healer’s door, he pounded on it.

“Open the door! Open it now! I have an injured patient!” His voice was firm but laced with fear.

Within moments, the door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged woman whose face was lined with age but whose eyes shone with wisdom. Dressed in a simple yet clean tunic, she held a torch that illuminated Marcus’s exhausted but determined expression.

“General Acacius?” she asked, surprised.

“Valeria is wounded,” Marcus answered, his voice trembling with restrained anger. “She’s been poisoned. You must do something immediately.”

The healer quickly pushed aside her shock and stepped aside. “Bring her in, quickly! I’ll prepare her room.”

Marcus carried Valeria through a narrow stone corridor. From the outside, the house had appeared modest, but inside, it was carefully arranged with a well-prepared patient chamber. A bed covered in clean linen, wooden shelves filled with vials of herbs, and a small fireplace burning warmly in the corner created an air of quiet urgency. The sharp scent of medicinal plants lingered in the air, signaling that a treatment was already in motion.

As Marcus gently placed Valeria onto the bed, a stray lock of her hair fell over her face. He hesitated for a moment before carefully brushing it back. Her pale face remained as silent and troubled as death itself.

The healer stepped forward, her eyes immediately locking onto the wound.

"The blade was poisoned," Marcus said, his voice a mix of hardness and fear. "I can't lose her."

The healer examined the wound carefully. "This is an ancient poison," the woman said with a soft sigh. "The poison is slowly seeping into her blood, and once it reaches her heart, death will be inevitable. But you arrived in time. There is still a chance. However, this treatment will not be easy."

Marcus searched for a glimmer of hope in the healer’s words. "Do whatever it takes. I'll help," he said without hesitation.

The healer quickly grabbed several bottles from the shelf and signaled to her assistant. The assistant, a young man, was accustomed to the healer’s orders and had skilled hands. A mortar was filled with dark-colored herbs, dried flowers, and a small amount of green liquid. The healer turned to Marcus. "To cleanse this poison, we must cut the wound open and let the blood flow. This will be difficult for both her and you, but it’s our only chance."

Marcus furrowed his brows but did not waver. "What do I need to do?"

The healer carefully lifted Valeria’s pale arm. "We must keep the wound open. As we drain the poisoned blood, we need to ensure fresh blood keeps circulating. While I open the wound, you will drop this into her vein." She handed him a small bottle. "But be careful. Too little won’t work, too much will stop her heart."

Marcus nodded firmly. "Understood."

The healer cut away the fabric around the wound and took a deep breath before drawing her knife. "Are you ready?" she asked Marcus.

"I'm ready."

As the healer wiped around the wound with a clean cloth, Valeria's face twisted in pain. Marcus gripped her hand tightly. "Hold on, Valeria," he whispered.

When the healer pressed the knife to the wound, forcing the poison out, Valeria's body flinched involuntarily. Thick, dark blood oozed out. Marcus, his hands slightly trembling, carefully dripped the green liquid into her vein. The assistant stood close by, ensuring he administered the correct amount.

"Do not rush," the healer said sharply to Marcus. "This is the line between life and death for her."

Marcus leaned in closer to Valeria. "Come on, hold on. You’re a fighter. Prove it to me," he said, his voice low but filled with deep affection. At that moment, he wasn’t just a general—he was a man fighting to keep Valeria alive.

Once the last drop of poisoned blood had been drained, the healer pressed a prepared herbal mixture onto the wound. "Now, we wait," she said. "It will take time for her to wake. Keep talking to her. It is crucial that she stays awake through the night."

Marcus held Valeria’s hand and rested his forehead gently against hers. "I’m here," he whispered. "And I’m not going anywhere." Though Valeria couldn’t open her eyes, there was the faintest twitch at the corner of her lips. Marcus could still feel the warrior inside her fighting.

Her lips moved slightly, though no words formed. Marcus leaned in even closer, as if trying to catch her breath itself. "Are you trying to say something? Come on… If you can hear me, give me a sign." Valeria's eyelids fluttered slightly, and her lips parted just enough for the faintest movement. It was enough to ignite hope within Marcus.

The healer, watching from the corner of the room, observed the scene with a knowing look. "It’s not just courage fighting for her life, General," she said, her tone thoughtful. "Your heart is fighting too. But such deep concern is not just a soldier’s duty, is it?"

Marcus lifted his head, his eyes filled with both guilt and defiance. "That’s none of your business," he said shortly. But his words lacked true coldness—he himself could feel the vulnerability behind them.

The healer smiled slightly, shaking her head. "No, it’s really not. But eyes do not lie, Marcus Acacius. I saw the way you looked at her."

For a moment, Marcus remained silent. "You’re mistaken," he finally said, his voice controlled but slightly strained. "She is the emperor’s fiancée. Commodus’ beloved. And I am his general. Something like this… something like this is impossible."

The healer chuckled softly—not mockingly, but with understanding. "If you say so," she said, clearly unconvinced. "But remember, General—your eyes betray your heart."

With that, she left them alone.

The silence that followed was as loud as the clash of swords in battle. The forbidden feelings within Marcus felt as heavy as a thousand spears pointed at him.

"This is wrong," he whispered to himself. His words echoed in the dim room, but they did nothing to silence the storm in his heart. "She belongs to Commodus. She is the emperor’s beloved."

He buried his head in his hands, taking a deep breath. "May the gods forgive me," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is weakness… and weakness makes a general vulnerable." But no matter how hard he tried, he could not suppress the emotions stirring within him.

A faint murmur from Valeria broke his thoughts. He lifted his head immediately, eyes fixed on her. Though still half-conscious, her lips parted slightly. "Marcus…" she breathed, his name escaping her lips like a fragile whisper.

The sound both burned and strengthened Marcus. He pulled himself together and took her hand again. "I’m here," he said, his voice unsteady. "I swear to you, Valeria. I will bring you back from this darkness. No matter the cost."

As the first light of dawn trickled through the stone walls, Marcus Acacius sat by Valeria’s bedside, his head resting near her as he watched over her throughout the night. Exhausted, he had drifted into sleep, his arm carefully placed over the blanket covering her. Valeria’s weak but steady breathing filled the quiet room.

When the healer and her assistant entered, they found Marcus still there, his exhaustion evident. The healer gently touched his shoulder. Marcus jolted awake, his hand instinctively moving toward the hilt of his sword before recognizing the familiar faces before him. "Healer," he muttered, his voice still thick with sleep. Then he immediately turned to Valeria, concern overtaking his drowsiness. "How is she? Is she better?"

The healer studied Valeria’s pale face carefully. "Not fully, General. The poison still lingers. Today will be even more difficult. But the girl has a strong will. She can overcome this."

Just then, Valeria let out a faint groan, slowly stirring. She blinked her eyes open and, upon seeing Marcus beside her, managed a weak smile. "Marcus…" she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Last night… what happened? Why am I here?"

Marcus gently squeezed her hand, trying to calm her. "You’re healing, Valeria. Just rest. We’ll talk later."

The healer turned to Marcus, her expression firm. "Today, we must open the wound again. The poison is still in her system, and we need to apply a second cure. But this will be even more painful than yesterday."

The concern on Marcus’ face was unmistakable.

Marcus frowned as he listened. "How will she endure so much pain? When she's this weak..."

The healer approached Marcus with a reassuring look. "She will endure. But with your support. You'll be by her side, won't you? If you truly want her to survive, you must be with her through every step."

Marcus nodded without hesitation. "I'll do whatever it takes. I won't leave her alone."

As Valeria slowly prepared herself, the healer made an opium tinctura—a concentrated opium extract. It wouldn't put her to sleep completely, but it would ease the pain and relax her body. Carefully, the healer brought the dark liquid to Valeria's lips. She grimaced at the bitter taste but obeyed under Marcus' reassuring gaze.

When the wound was opened, Valeria's face turned crimson, her brows furrowed in agony, but in her semi-conscious state, she couldn't scream. Marcus held her hand tightly, whispering in her ear. "I'm here. Be brave. This will end. You're a warrior, Valeria. You'll win this battle too."

The healer applied a special herbal mixture around the wound, letting the cure slowly seep in. His assistant looked at Marcus and gave a brief command. "I need to clean the wound, General. Step aside."

Tears streamed down Valeria's face. Her voice was weak but heart-wrenching. "It hurts so much... Marcus, it hurts..." she whimpered.

Marcus, his eyes welling up, ran his hand through her hair, his voice low but unwavering. "You can do this. You're doing it, Valeria. This pain is temporary. Do you hear me? It's almost over."

When the treatment was finished, the healer took a deep breath and turned to Marcus, his voice tired but hopeful. "General, as you said—this girl is a fighter. But having someone like you by her side makes her even stronger."

Marcus silently continued holding Valeria’s hand. As the healer’s words echoed in his mind, he felt a forbidden feeling begin to take root within him. But for now, it didn't matter. The battle for Valeria’s survival wasn’t over yet.

Two days later…

After Valeria’s routine treatment, Marcus took the opportunity to stay by her side once the healer left the room. He sat on the small chair beside her bed, watching her still-weakened form. Her face was pale, but her eyes were slowly regaining their light. Marcus couldn't bear seeing her so fragile, so he carefully reached for her hand. Gently, as if his touch could break her, he placed his fingers over her delicate ones.

At his touch, Valeria stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering open. The first thing she saw was Marcus’ strong yet worried face. For a moment, they simply gazed at each other. In Marcus’ deep brown eyes, there was an intensity he tried to hide. Valeria smiled faintly, though it was a tired smile.

"General..." she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. But that one word echoed in Marcus’ chest.

"I'm here, Valeria," Marcus said, his voice as firm as a vow but also gentle.

Valeria tried to smile again, though the corner of her lips trembled slightly. "You didn’t have to stay."

Marcus was silent for a moment before bowing his head slightly. "I couldn't leave you alone. Your condition... it wasn’t good."

Valeria noticed his hand still holding hers. "I wouldn’t have expected such tenderness from a man as strong as you. Did Commodus order you to be this kind?"

Marcus flinched at the words, as if reality had slapped him in the face. Taking care of the Emperor's woman with such devotion what else could it mean? He withdrew his hand, furrowing his brows slightly as he answered.

"I promised the Emperor I would return his betrothed to him unharmed."

Valeria's expression changed. "No. Commodus… has made his interest in me very clear, but no, General. I belong to no one. I rejected his offer."

Marcus took a deep breath, feeling something inside him shift a small but unmistakable sense of relief.

"So I judged you wrongly," he admitted. "Had I known you were not the Emperor’s betrothed..."

Valeria cut him off with a small, knowing smile. "What would you have done, General? Would you have refused to help me?"

Even in her teasing tone, there was a challenge. Marcus held her gaze, determined not to betray anything.

"Perhaps... I would have seen you differently. But Valeria, you know how dangerous the Emperor’s interest is. He could force you."

This time, Valeria didn’t smile. Her gaze locked onto his, unwavering. "I won’t let anyone force me, Marcus Acacius. Remember that."

Something about her defiance made Marcus smile slightly. He found her strength and resolve... compelling.

For a while, they simply looked at each other. A quiet warmth filled the space between them. Marcus hesitated for a moment, but he still hadn’t let go of her trembling hand.

"Valeria... I would have liked to face you in battle. I never expected a senator’s daughter to know how to fight."

Valeria blinked in surprise. "You, Marcus Acacius… shouldn't be this bold. And you’re right, my father would never approve of me fighting like a gladiator."

Marcus tilted his head slightly. "Then how did you become so skilled?"

A silence settled over them. Valeria looked as if she wanted to answer but chose not to. The sound of footsteps saved her from responding.

The healer entered the room and immediately noticed the atmosphere between them.

"General, if you keep watching the young lady this closely, you may not want her to recover too soon. Such a visitor is hard to come by," he remarked with a smirk.

Marcus straightened, his expression hardening. "I'm only doing my duty."

The healer shrugged, then knelt beside Valeria to check her condition.

"Duty… of course. Always duty."

With precise movements, he checked Valeria’s pulse and examined the wound. He nodded approvingly, then smiled.

"Tomorrow, my lady, you’ll be able to leave. But you must continue to rest—the wound is not fully healed. Also..." He glanced at Marcus, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Your presence has been quite effective in her recovery. Such remarkable devotion."

Marcus ignored the healer’s pointed words, keeping his face neutral. "Thank you. Your work has been invaluable."

As soon as the healer left the room, Valeria turned to Marcus, trying to hide the unease in her expression.

"General," she began, her voice still weak but filled with curiosity, "what exactly happened to me?"

Marcus pulled his chair closer to the bed, resting one hand on his knee while the other thoughtfully touched his chin. "An assassination attempt," he said in a calm but cold tone. "Commodus was the target. And you... you found yourself protecting him, Valeria. Your courage... was impressive. But it came at a price. The dagger… it was poisoned." His words slowed slightly. "But according to the healer, you will make a full recovery."

As Valeria tried to process Marcus's words, her gaze wandered to the floor. Suddenly, her expression darkened. She took a deep breath and spoke. "But another danger awaits me..."

Marcus hesitated for a moment. "Why do you say that?"

Valeria averted her eyes from Marcus, as if trying to hide her emotions. "Commodus," she murmured. "When we return, he will propose to me again. I rejected his first proposal. He gave me time to reconsider, but I don't think he'll be as understanding this time."

Marcus remained silent for a moment. Seeing the raw fear and helplessness on Valeria’s face sent a chill down his spine. "Refusing him won’t be easy," Marcus said heavily. "But Commodus is, above all, the Emperor. He wouldn't use his power to directly threaten you or your family. At least... not openly. With his relationship with the Senate already so strained, he avoids taking actions that might damage his reputation."

The faint uncertainty in his voice was something even he noticed. Valeria had sensed what he truly meant. "Do you really believe that?" she asked, her voice trembling but challenging.

Marcus paused, then slightly bowed his head. "I don’t know," he admitted. "But I hope that harming you or your family would be his last resort."

Marcus glanced at Valeria's slightly trembling hand, then, gathering his courage, placed his own hand over hers. "Valeria," he said, his voice soft yet firm, "Your courage, intelligence, and grace captivate him. But they also put you in danger. If you ever need to defend yourself..." He hesitated for a moment, weighing the weight of his words. "I will be here."

When Valeria saw the sincerity in Marcus's eyes, she took a deep breath. Her lips trembled, but she said nothing. The fear and helplessness inside her seemed to slowly fade, replaced by the security of Marcus's presence. But the weight in her heart remained heavy.

Silence echoed in the room. Valeria leaned her head slightly toward Marcus. "Thank you," she said simply, but the gratitude in her voice was meaningful enough.

Sitting in bed, Valeria felt her impatience growing. She hated feeling weak, and despite her wound, she wanted to get up. She pressed her hand lightly against the edge of the bed and looked at Marcus Acacius with determination.

"I'm tired of lying here, General," she said, her voice still weak but filled with resolve. "I need to stand up."

Marcus frowned and shook his head. "Valeria, this is madness. You've just started recovering, and you need to rest. Trying to get up could ruin everything."

A small smile appeared on Valeria’s lips. "It’s obvious you don’t know me well, General. I’m famous for my stubbornness."

Marcus sighed. "Very well," he finally said in a measured tone. "But if you take even a single step and falter, we are going back."

Marcus helped Valeria up, supporting her as she took her first step. She wobbled slightly, but he held her firmly, ensuring she didn’t fall. "I told you," Marcus murmured, his gaze filled with concern.

Valeria slowly began to walk with Marcus’s support. "Where is Asinus?" she suddenly asked, curiosity in her voice. "I need to see him."

Just then, the door opened, and the healer entered. "The wolf?" he asked. "We found him outside near the cooking area not long ago. Happily gnawing on bones. He’s quite loyal."

The healer gave Marcus a small smile. "But my lady, if you wish to go outside, you mustn’t go alone."

When Marcus and Valeria stepped out, the crisp air brushed against their faces. A thin layer of mist hovered over the ground, giving the surroundings an ethereal atmosphere. Valeria's eyes immediately searched for Asinus. At last, she spotted him a few meters away, contentedly chewing on a bone.

With Marcus’s help, Valeria moved toward him. The wolf, noticing his owner, wagged his tail excitedly and let out a joyful howl before rushing to her side. Valeria dropped to her knees. Despite the pain in her wound, she couldn’t resist wrapping her arms tightly around him and pressing her cheek against his soft fur. "Ah, I missed you," she murmured, her voice filled with affection.

Whenever Marcus was alone with her, he felt as though he was losing control of his heart.

After a moment with the wolf, Valeria took a deep breath and stood again. As her arm stretched, pain shot through her, making her exhale sharply between her teeth.

She turned to Marcus. "I always saw you as serious, strong, and distant," she said with a hint of teasing. "But now I see... you have a kind side."

Marcus gave a small smile. "A strong man showing kindness is sometimes seen as weakness. Especially when you've spent your life on the battlefield..." His gaze dropped slightly. "I wish... things were different," he whispered.

Valeria listened carefully. "Different? In what way?" she asked.

Marcus's eyes narrowed slightly as if weighing the gravity of the question. "If I answer that, things will become even more complicated," he finally replied.

A deep sadness flickered in Valeria’s eyes. "I think it's already complicated. Perhaps accepting that is the only truth."

Marcus took a step closer, lowering his voice. "Valeria, when I speak to you, my words catch in my throat. Not even the enemies who tried to bring me to my knees could make me feel as powerless as your innocent gaze. But we both know... this isn’t right. I am a warrior; you are a noblewoman, and... you are the Emperor’s betrothed."

"Stop saying that," she said firmly. "Commodus may think what he wants, but my heart has never belonged to him. It never will."

Valeria stepped closer to him. "And every time I speak with you, I feel like I am losing control of my heart. You pull me deeper into a trap with each word you say, General."

Marcus took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "Valeria, even this conversation is dangerous."

In her eyes, there was both defiance and surrender. Valeria reached out, gently touching his shoulder and closing the space between them.

Finally, she tilted her head up slightly and pressed her lips against Marcus’s. That kiss carried not just passion but the weight of forbidden desire. At first, Marcus froze, but then, as if the chains around his heart shattered, his hands found her waist, pulling her closer.

In that kiss, every unspoken feeling between them was laid bare. But when it ended, Marcus’s eyes were filled with sorrow.

"Valeria," he said in a deep voice, "This... must only happen once. Your happiness is beyond my reach. I would do anything to protect you, but..."

Valeria placed her hand over his lips, silencing him. "If you want to protect me, then be honest. What does your heart say, General?"

Marcus Acacius felt the storm inside him intensify as he gazed into the depth of emotions reflected on Valeria's face. There was an undeniable pull in her youth and innocence, something that drew him in no matter how hard he tried to resist.

Marcus averted his eyes from hers, taking a deep breath. His voice was firm and stern.

"What we feel, Valeria, is nothing but a fleeting illusion. Even entertaining such thoughts is a mistake."

Valeria's expression shifted. "A mistake?" she echoed, her voice trembling yet defiant. "Do you truly believe that these feelings are wrong? Or are you just trying to convince yourself?"

Marcus clenched his jaw.

"I am a soldier, Valeria," he said, his tone low but resolute. "My life is filled with blood and death. Do you wish to spend your life longing for a man who is never truly yours? These feelings will only bring disaster."

Valeria whispered, "My heart has chosen you. Don’t you… don’t you feel it too?"

Marcus closed his eyes tightly. Her innocent confession shattered every wall he had built inside himself. But as a soldier, he had learned one crucial lesson: sometimes, in order to win, one must retreat. His hands balled into fists as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Valeria," he said, his voice carrying the finality of a judge’s verdict. "This matter will not be discussed again. It is forbidden. And you must forget it."

Valeria took a step back, as if his words had physically struck her. "Forget?" she asked, her voice a mix of pain and disbelief. "Do you truly believe you can do that, General? Because I… I know that I cannot."

Marcus lowered his head, unwilling to meet her gaze.

"I am firm in my decision, Valeria. It was nothing more than a moment of weakness. We will not speak of this again. When you are ready, I will take you home."

Valeria nodded, the emptiness inside her growing. Her voice carried both heartbreak and defiance. "Then let us not prolong this," she said, her tone cold and fragile. "Let’s return at once."

Marcus let his arms fall to his sides, stepping back. He could feel the weight of her broken heart, but he had to silence his own. This was for her own good. Valeria’s youth and innocence were not meant to bear the burden of a man like him.

Without accepting his help, Valeria made her way inside, her pain evident in every hesitant step. She staggered, her breath catching in her throat, the wound in her heart as raw as the ones on her body.

After Marcus Acacius left Valeria at the palace, he felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. Days passed, yet neither he nor Valeria spoke a word to each other after that passionate kiss. Marcus buried himself in his duties, avoiding her at all costs, convincing himself that as long as she was safe under the Emperor’s protection, he could find solace. But every night, his mind betrayed him bringing back the memory of Valeria’s face, her touch, and the intensity of their kiss.

Valeria, on the other hand, struggled in the palace, suffocated by Commodus’ growing attention and the pain of Marcus’ rejection. The turmoil within her only deepened caught between the suffocating pressure of the Emperor and the forbidden love she harbored for Marcus.

Commodus, upon seeing her, made no effort to hide his delight, parading around the palace as he boasted about his bravery and the lengths he had gone to protect her. He spoke to Valeria as if he were a hero, expecting admiration in return. Though she remained composed, Valeria could sense the veiled threat behind his gaze.

Am I Not Merciful?!

One day, Emperor Commodus summoned Valeria to his chambers. Marcus Acacius was there with him, engaged in a discussion over a map. The emperor had just given Marcus a series of orders regarding war preparations and was devising a new strategy to expand the empire’s borders. Marcus remained serious and focused, but the moment Valeria entered the room, he could sense that something had changed.

As Valeria appeared at the doorway, Commodus rose to his feet, his familiar possessive smile spreading across his lips. "My dear Valeria," he said, his voice adopting an overly sweet tone. "I’m glad you’re here. It’s time for us to talk."

Marcus’s brow furrowed slightly at the sight of her, but he quickly composed himself, lowering his gaze back to the map as if trying to pretend she wasn’t there at all. Yet Valeria’s eyes lingered on him. Their gazes locked for a fleeting moment one that ignited a silent fire between them.

Breaking the silence, Commodus stepped toward Valeria and gently touched her chin. "I gave you time to think about my offer," he said. "As an emperor, I have shown you more than enough mercy. But after recent events, far too much time has passed. Now, you must decide. My patience has run out."

Valeria’s heart pounded in her chest. She could hear the veiled threats in his words. "Your Majesty," she began, her voice measured and respectful. "I am deeply grateful for the great honor you have bestowed upon me. Your strength, your justice, and your leadership are the very foundation of this empire…"

Marcus’s gaze flicked toward her the moment those words left her lips. His expression, though controlled, held a flicker of surprise and something deeper pain. Valeria sounded as if she were about to accept Commodus’s marriage proposal. Marcus continued to observe her, his head inclining slightly, his eyes giving her an almost imperceptible nod.

It was as if he were saying, This is the right choice.

When Valeria caught that look, she felt her breath hitch. A surge of anger and disappointment burned through her. The idea that Marcus of all people approved of her marrying Commodus felt like a dagger to her chest. She turned back to Commodus, whose expectant expression remained, but suddenly, her words shifted.

"…But, Your Majesty," Valeria said, her voice now firmer, filled with newfound resolve. "I fear I would crumble under such a great responsibility. I know that I am not strong enough to stand beside a ruler as mighty as you."

Commodus’s smile froze for just a second before he quickly recovered. "Strength?" he echoed, his voice eerily calm. "Strength, Valeria, comes only from the heart. And I know that your heart is strong."

Valeria held her head high, refusing to soften the hard edge in her expression. "Your Majesty, I am honored by your offer. However, I do not believe I am worthy of you. And for that reason… I cannot accept."

Silence fell over the room.

Marcus stiffened at Valeria’s words, his entire body going rigid. The carefully composed mask Commodus wore cracked—just slightly—but he quickly patched over it. He continued to smile, inclining his head ever so slightly.

"I see," Commodus said, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of something dangerous. Then, slowly, he turned his gaze toward Marcus.

"General," he said, his tone deceptively calm but laced with an unmistakable warning. "I wish to speak with Valeria alone. You may leave."

Marcus’s brows knit together slightly. Every instinct told him that leaving Valeria alone in this room with Commodus was a mistake. "Your Majesty, perhaps another time—"

Commodus’s voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "I believe I made myself clear, General. Leave."

Marcus knew that defying a direct order was not an option. He had no choice but to bow his head in submission. Before turning away, he cast one last look at Valeria. His gaze held concern, protectiveness, and something else regret.

"As you command, Your Majesty," he said, stepping toward the door. But each step felt heavier, the weight of leaving Valeria in this dangerous solitude pressing on him.

Just before closing the door, Marcus stole a final glance back. Valeria stood with her back to him, facing Commodus, unyielding. The emperor, in turn, watched her like a predator sizing up his prey.

The sight left a bitter taste in Marcus’s mouth.

But he shut the door and forced himself to walk away, trying not to think about what might happen next.

As soon as the door closed, Commodus took a deep breath, and the silence in the room cast a shadow over Valeria. "I have waited far too long to speak with you alone, Valeria," Commodus said, his voice as smooth as ever, but now tinged with a hint of mockery. In his eyes, barely concealed beneath his composed exterior, was the simmering rage of a man who had just been rejected.

The air in the emperor’s chamber was thick with tension. His face appeared calm, but the slight tremor in his gaze and the way his hands clenched and unclenched betrayed the fury bubbling beneath the surface.

"Valeria," Commodus murmured, his voice still soft but carrying an unsettling edge, as if it could turn to steel at any moment. "I must admit, I admire how strong-willed and stubborn you are. But…" He stepped closer, and Valeria instinctively took a step back. Commodus halted, tilting his head slightly. "Why does that stubbornness prevent you from understanding my love for you?"

Valeria hesitated. In the depths of Commodus’s gaze, there was darkness one that pierced through the mask of false kindness he wore. "Your Majesty…" she began cautiously, but Commodus silenced her with a raised hand.

"No. Today, I will speak, and you will listen!" His voice was still composed, yet a dangerous sharpness had crept into his tone. "I have told you that I love you, that I have protected you at every turn, that I would sacrifice anything for you… And still, you rejected me. Your heart! Your heart may not want me, but an emperor’s heart… loves revenge."

Valeria froze. Commodus’s voice was no longer affectionate; it was a poisoned arrow aimed directly at her. His eyes had darkened, his gaze drilling into her with an unsettling intensity.

"Did I not say I wouldn’t harm you?" Commodus took another step forward. "Ah, my dear Valeria… Mercy is my greatest virtue." He paused, his voice eerily calm. "But even virtues have their limits."

Valeria’s heart pounded violently, and a cold sweat trickled down her forehead. "What do you mean, Your Majesty?" she asked, her voice unsteady.

"I should have you killed, but I never will," Commodus said, forcing a smile onto his lips. "Instead, every single day that you have denied me, you will come to regret your decision."

Valeria’s eyes widened. "No! Please, do not harm my family!" she pleaded, her voice echoing through the chamber. Commodus, however, only let out a mocking laugh.

"I would never be an emperor unworthy of my people," he said with exaggerated righteousness. "Even when they make mistakes, I am forgiving… though small prices must still be paid." But his voice had risen now, turning into something more unhinged. Commodus suddenly grabbed Valeria’s arm, his grip tightening as he shook her violently. "AM I NOT MERCIFUL?" he roared, his eyes wild with madness.

Valeria recoiled, trying to pull away, but his grasp was as unyielding as iron. Staring into his frenzied eyes, she felt both terror and helplessness. "Your Majesty… please," she whispered, but there was no escape from his grasp.

For a moment, Commodus hesitated. He took a deep breath, loosening his hold. He let her go but his eyes never left her. "I forgive you," he said, his voice eerily composed once more. But Valeria knew that this was merely the calm before the storm. Commodus inclined his head slightly, an unsettling smirk on his lips. "Remember, Valeria," he said mockingly. "Mercy is my greatest virtue. But everyone must pay a price. And so will you."

The echo of footsteps resounded through the cold stone corridors of Rome, not as mere footsteps, but as the march of judgment. Under Commodus’s orders, soldiers moved swiftly in the dead of night, pulling Valeria’s loyal companion, Asinus, from his stable.

At first, the wolfhound did not resist, trusting the humans around him as he always had. But the scent in the air changed, and when the soldiers’ chains struck against his neck with harsh force, his instincts flared. A growl rumbled deep in his throat, echoing through the palace corridors. He never made it to Valeria’s chamber he vanished like a ghost into the darkness.

The next morning, when Valeria saw the empty stable, the dread in her chest twisted into fury. Gathering her resolve, she made her way to Lucilla, Commodus’s sister, the only person who might help her. She found her in the grand halls of the palace, her voice urgent as she called out. Lucilla turned at the sound, immediately noticing the distress on Valeria’s face.

"What happened? You look pale."

Valeria’s voice trembled as she spoke. "Asinus… He’s gone. My wolf, my only friend! He wasn’t in the stable. Someone took him," she said, tears streaming down her face. The stone walls of the palace seemed to swallow her sorrow whole.

Lucilla knew her brother’s cruelty all too well. "Perhaps… perhaps he just wandered off, Valeria. Maybe he will return," she offered, but even her voice carried no conviction.

Valeria turned to her, her eyes ablaze with anger and fear. "Commodus did this, didn’t he?" she demanded.

Lucilla remained silent. That silence alone was enough to confirm Valeria’s worst fear.

Meanwhile, Asinus was being prepared for the arena, a pawn in Commodus’s cruel scheme. The wolfhound had been confined to a dungeon-like space beneath the palace, left without food or water. For days, he heard only the clinking of his own chains, his body weakening while his instincts sharpened. The guards beat him, trying to strip the loyalty and gentleness from his eyes, trying to awaken the beast within.

Commodus’s orders were clear Asinus was to be trained for battle, transformed into a savage creature, and paraded before the crowds as nothing more than a mindless beast.

Every morning, Asinus was dragged into the empty arena with chains. The gladiators struck him with wooden swords, forcing him to snarl and bare his teeth. During these training sessions, his fur became matted with blood and dust, yet he never stopped resisting. No matter how much pain they inflicted, he refused to become the savage beast Commodus wanted him to be. He still carried the loyal and noble spirit that Valeria had taught him.

The day Asinus was to be taken into the arena was fast approaching. To Commodus, this fight was a symbol of his power. When he realized that Valeria would never kneel before him, he decided to spill Asinus’s blood in the arena as a declaration of his victory before the Roman people. The death of an animal in the arena was another way to enslave a person’s soul.

The fine line between the grandeur of Rome and the darkness of bloodshed was about to be drawn in the tragedy of an innocent creature. As the golden sunlight illuminated the stone columns of the Colosseum, the voices of thousands echoed through the arena walls. The crowd was eager for entertainment and brutality; Commodus sat among them, exuding the air of an indifferent king upon his throne. Valeria stood beside him, a silent prisoner. She had been forcibly brought here, taken from her home under the escort of soldiers.

As the iron gates slowly rose, something inside Valeria shattered. The scent of dust and animal musk filled the air first. Then, a familiar figure appeared, restrained by chains. Asinus was being dragged into the arena, his wild eyes filled with the yearning for freedom. He snarled, struggling against his bindings. The cheers of the crowd drowned out his desperate efforts. Valeria clasped her hands over her mouth, letting out a muffled cry.

"No! This is not a game! You can't do this!"

Commodus turned to her with a calm smile, placing his hand gently on her shoulder.

"My dear Valeria, this is merely a spectacle," he said, his tone almost fatherly, yet laced with a subtle menace. "The people of Rome deserve to witness justice in its most entertaining form, don’t you think?"

As another gate opened, a gladiator clad in armor emerged from the other end of the arena. He wielded a deadly spear in one hand and a round shield in the other. The gladiator hesitated for a moment, seeming to acknowledge Asinus with an air of respect. But under the sharp gaze of Commodus, he had no choice but to follow orders.

Valeria clutched Commodus’s arm.

"Stop this! I beg you, Commodus, put an end to this!" Her eyes brimmed with tears, her voice trembling with despair.

Commodus leaned in closer, his words dark and intimate.

"Asinus is just an animal, my dear Valeria. What truly matters is you. The light of Rome. But debts must be paid. Now, watch."

Asinus lunged toward the gladiator, finally free of his chains. But exhaustion was evident in his movements. Valeria could see the signs—he had been tortured and starved before the fight. She realized then that the emperor still nursed his hatred for a dead general even after two years and was now exacting his vengeance upon the wolf.

At first, the gladiator remained on the defensive, blocking Asinus’s desperate attacks. But then, at a subtle signal from Commodus, he moved in for the kill. The crowd erupted in cheers, their thirst for blood and violence insatiable, while Valeria felt as if she were trapped in a living nightmare.

Valeria’s screams carried all the way to the section where Marcus Acacius stood. For a moment, the sound froze him in place. When he turned toward the arena and saw Asinus, something in him stirred. The noble beast fought with every ounce of courage he had, refusing to die easily. Marcus’s hands clenched into fists, his breath quickened. He understood then that this was nothing more than another way for Commodus to assert control over Valeria. But Marcus had his own duty to fulfill—he was preparing to leave for a new mission with his soldiers. And as a ruler who had secured his power with the support of the people, he had already succeeded in silencing the Senate. Even so, the rage and grief inside him were undeniable.

When blood finally stained the dust-covered ground, Asinus collapsed. The deafening roar of the crowd filled the arena as Valeria squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear the sight. But Commodus gripped her shoulder once more, his voice dripping with cruel satisfaction.

"You must watch," he murmured with a dark smile. "Everything has a price, my dear Valeria."

Valeria gasped for breath, feeling as though the air had been stolen from her lungs. In a sudden movement, she wrenched herself free from Commodus’s grasp.

"I hate you!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. Commodus’s smile slowly faded as Valeria turned and fled the arena, running through the grand doors of the Colosseum.

As she disappeared into the city, Marcus Acacius was finishing his final orders to his men. He saw the young woman, her face flushed from crying, her body trembling. For a brief moment, he wanted to abandon everything and go after her. But duty held him back.

The events of the arena would not be forgotten—not by Valeria, not by Marcus, and certainly not by Commodus. This was not the end of their story. Valeria’s tears, Marcus’s silent fury, and Commodus’s relentless cruelty would intertwine their fates once more.

The star-studded sky of Rome cast its weight over Valeria’s home. In the deep silence of the night, a mournful air filled the girl's room. She sat by the window, lost in the memory of Asinus. Her eyes carried exhaustion, her face despair. Her hands restlessly moved over her knees; she wanted to do something, but there was nothing she could do.

A gentle breeze slipped through the crack in the window. With it, a shadow emerged. Marcus Acacius entered almost soundlessly. Though the weight of his armor brought a faint echo into the room, his movements held the disciplined caution of a gladiator. At first, Valeria did not notice the shadow, but when she suddenly turned and saw him, her eyes widened.

"Marcus!" she whispered. Her voice was filled with both shock and a hint of anger. "What are you doing here? If my brother or father sees you..."

Marcus raised his hand slightly to silence her. "No one noticed me. I had to see you," he said. The concern in his voice made it clear why he had taken this dangerous risk.

Valeria looked at Marcus without wiping away her tears. "I... I can't say I'm fine. But maybe it doesn't matter. I never truly understood who Commodus was. As a child, I thought there was goodness in him. I believed he would protect me, that he would never harm me... But I was wrong. And now Asinus... Asinus' death..." Her voice cracked, the words breaking on her lips.

Marcus knelt beside her. "Valeria," he said, his voice low but firm. "I know there is nothing I can say to ease your pain. But know this: Asinus' death is not your fault. Commodus’ heart... it is like stone, unfeeling. He has no concept of morality."

Valeria turned her head toward Marcus. "But why?" she asked. In her eyes, there was a plea for an answer. "If he is so evil, why is he still this powerful? Marcus, you are doing nothing to change this. Does this satisfy you? Aren’t you a general, a leader? Commodus listens to you. He trusts you."

Marcus lowered his head and gave a faint smile, but it was filled with sorrow. "Commodus' trust exists only as long as I obey him," he said. "But Valeria, no matter what, I will stand by your side. If I can keep you safe, that is enough."

Valeria gripped Marcus' hand tightly. "I don’t want safety, Marcus. I want freedom. For myself, for my people... And I want you to be part of it."

Marcus took a deep breath. "Valeria, overthrowing Commodus is not just about courage. It is about power. To start a rebellion, I must gather loyal soldiers. More than half the army is devoted to Commodus. After Maximus, he made much more strategic moves. I can only trust a few. This is not something that can be solved overnight."

Marcus took a few steps and said, "It’s not just about gathering soldiers," his voice carrying an undertone of helplessness. "This month, I must prepare for the Eastern Campaign that Commodus has planned. I have been assigned to reorganize Caesar’s legions. If I let this opportunity slip, I may never have another chance."

Valeria’s face twisted with anger and grief she could no longer suppress. "The Eastern Campaign? Are you here to protect Rome, or to serve as a shield for Commodus’ cruelty? Going east, following his orders—is that not submission?"

Marcus remained silent. She was right, but he understood the deeper strategy behind this. Infiltrating Commodus' legions was a step toward an internal coup. Yet, he did not want to explain this to Valeria.

Seeing his silence, Valeria took courage and stood up. Her eyes locked onto Marcus' deep brown ones. Her fingers brushed against his wheat-colored skin as she gently caressed his cheek. "Marcus, if we were just two ordinary people, do you know what would happen? Maybe we would live in a simple countryside farm. We would have children, raised within a life filled with love. Peaceful and happy, living a true life."

Marcus took a deep breath. "Valeria, we cannot escape reality. We are both part of the palace. My duty is to protect Rome. Your duty, as a noblewoman, is to protect your honor, to be a symbol of hope for the people."

Valeria narrowed her eyes and took a step closer. "Yes, we are not ordinary people. But we can feel like them. Even if our love is forbidden, our hearts beat like any other. You, Marcus Acacius—why do you deny this? If you truly care for me, why are you afraid?"

Marcus flinched at her words. Valeria’s defiant voice shook the deepest corners of his heart. Slowly, he turned toward her, his face in the darkness appearing both hardened and vulnerable. "Because..." he started, but the words caught in his throat.

Sensing his hesitation, Valeria pressed further, her confidence growing. "You fought for me, protected me, mourned Asinus. Isn't that too much for an ordinary Roman general? Marcus, tell me the truth. What do you feel for me?"

Marcus stopped resisting. His eyes locked onto Valeria’s, and he slowly reached out, gently caressing her cheek. “Valeria,” he said, his voice trembling yet firm. “I love you. Admitting this has been the hardest battle of my life.”

Valeria was momentarily stunned by Marcus' confession.

Marcus hesitated for a moment longer. Then, suddenly, he cast aside all his reservations and leaned toward Valeria. His hand cupped her chin, and he pressed his lips against hers.

The moment Marcus’ lips touched Valeria’s, time seemed to stop. Rome’s grand villa stood as a silent witness under the moonlight. The kiss was as passionate as the clash of two swords on a battlefield, yet as tender as the dance of two souls finally uniting. In Marcus' strong arms, Valeria felt like a goddess; the kisses of this battle-hardened man transported her to a sacred temple, a world where only the two of them existed.

Marcus’ fingers traced the contours of Valeria’s face, feeling the warmth of her delicate skin beneath his touch. This contact was a healer, wiping away the exhaustion of a thousand battles. Valeria placed her hands on Marcus’ armored chest, and through the passion of their kiss, she embraced him as if wanting the entire world to understand what they felt. With her eyes closed, she wanted to be certain that this was not a dream.

This kiss resembled a tragedy written by the gods holding the passion of Zeus and Hera, yet carrying the sorrow of Prometheus. Their love felt both blessed and cursed. Marcus gripped Valeria’s waist, pulling her even closer. In that moment, it was as if they had cast off all the burdens of the world. Rome, Commodus, wars… all were forgotten. Only they remained, two souls entwined.

Marcus pulled away, breathless. His eyes lingered in Valeria’s gaze for a moment, seeing an eternity in those deep brown depths. “Valeria,” he whispered. “This feels like a forbidden dream.”

A smile appeared on Valeria’s lips. “I feel the same. Being with you is like touching the stars. But at the same time, I fear losing them.”

Marcus’ expression grew serious. “Not yet. Not now. The Eastern Campaign could be a beginning. A chance to divert Commodus’ attention and gather soldiers loyal to me. Bringing him down will be a longer battle than we thought. But for you… for you, I will win this war.”

Valeria placed her hand against Marcus’ cheek, gazing at him with admiration. “You,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion, “are not just a soldier. You are a leader, a hero. And I love you in every way, Marcus Acacius. There is nothing in all of Rome’s gold that I would trade you for.”

Marcus couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again. This time, the kiss was even deeper, even more passionate. As Valeria surrendered completely to Marcus, she felt the moment transform into something sacred. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she absorbed every breath they shared between their lips. This was more than just a kiss—it was a moment carved into Rome’s stone walls, an eternal testament to their love.

Marcus placed one hand on Valeria’s back, the other around her legs, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. Without breaking eye contact, he carefully approached the bed, laying her gently onto the silk sheets before sitting beside her. But Valeria was ready for more. She grasped Marcus’ arm, pulling him down with unexpected force. Marcus leaned in, sealing his lips against hers once more, as if he would never let go.

Their breaths mingled, and the forbidden yet legendary nature of their love echoed like a hymn to Rome’s ancient gods. This moment felt as if it were being etched into history as one of the greatest love stories ever told.

When Marcus finally broke the kiss again, both of them were breathless. “This war will be long,” Marcus said, his voice both determined and passionate. “But no matter what it takes, I will protect you. I will stand by your side.”

Valeria caressed her thigh near her groin, taking a deep breath. “And I, Marcus, will always be by your side. Even if death awaits us in the end, I will never leave you.”

With those words, they both knew that the fire burning in their hearts could no longer be extinguished. This love was not just theirs; it was a legend that would be etched into the history of Rome.

Marcus Acacius was determined to make Valeria feel better tonight. He would bring light to her darkened soul, mourning the loss of Asinus, and pull her away from the suffocating loneliness that had imprisoned her. A young woman like Valeria deserved this. While girls her age sat in their chambers, pondering what to wear to tomorrow’s garden parties, Valeria was paying the price for a sin that was never hers. Her family had always seen her as nothing more than an asset, valuable only because of their position at the emperor’s right hand. She had been alone since childhood. And now, with Asinus—the only true friend who had nourished her soul—cruelly taken away, the only hope Valeria had left to hold onto was Marcus Acacius' love.

Tonight, he would set aside his identity as a general and engrave upon her skin the undeniable truth that she was not alone.

As Marcus continued his tender kisses, his hands explored the curves of Valeria’s body. His fingers trailed from her waist down to her hips, feeling the full, rounded softness that seemed to ripple beneath his touch. When the calloused palm of a man who had spent years gripping the hilt of a sword met the smoothness of her legs, he found them as flawless as Rome’s famed marble and as soft as Chinese silk.

She reminded him of the freshness of his younger years.

Valeria gently lifted her head, pulling away from Marcus’ lips for a brief moment. In her eyes, a mix of desire and love shone—something that might have seemed sinful but was perhaps the purest feeling in the world.

Marcus curled his lips into a smile, his expression full of warmth. “What is it, my love?”

Valeria's lips parted, and her words came out as a whisper. The smile on her face was undoubtedly an attempt to mask her shyness. “If you don’t take off your armor, how can I touch your skin?” Her eyes held a look that longed for more than just a kiss.

Marcus was taken aback. “Do you really want this, Valeria? You know, you don’t have to. I’ll only touch you when you’re ready.”

But Valeria needed to understand where she stood in Marcus’ heart. She wanted to be certain that their kisses weren’t merely gestures of affection or sympathy. She wanted to find each other in the overwhelming pleasure of their bodies entwined. “I want this,” she whispered.

Marcus rose from the bed, never breaking eye contact with Valeria as he began removing his armor. His movements were slow yet precise. As Valeria watched him, her gaze traced the muscles of his body, the strength in his arms, the imposing presence of the man standing before her—the man who wanted to make love to her. And that was when she truly noticed how much older he was.

The deep lines on his face told the story of the battles he had won, the enemies he had conquered, and the strategies he had devised. The silver strands woven into his hair and beard screamed of a life where not a single moment had been wasted.

The realization sent a strange thrill through her. To have captured the attention of such a perfect general, to belong to his tenderness, his mind, his reason, his vulnerabilities, and his raw desires—it was intoxicating. The pride she felt at being desired by him mutated into an undeniable arousal.

Marcus could be everything to her—her mentor, her friend, her father figure, her lover.

And what feeling could be more satisfying than that?

Absolutely nothing.

She let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his chest pressing against hers. The scent of a soldier still clung to his clothes, and she knew that just a few hours ago, he had been giving orders to lower-ranking soldiers. He should terrify you; in every way, a general should inspire fear. But she was undeniably in love with him, caught in the spell of something that kept pulling her in. He intrigued her, he surprised her.

Marcus slid his hands under her green nightgown and pulled her upwards. His fingers found her clit, warm and glistening in the reflected candlelight; they brushed softly against the slick skin of her vulva. His fingers took control, digging into her wet folds and slowly teasing her entrance. Instinctively, her hips bucked, the need for his fingers inside her growing stronger. She knew it too, as his fingers slowly, painfully circled her clit. The pain in her nub grew stronger, her heartbeat echoing loudly in her ears. She sank her head hard into the pillow.

“Please,” she begged.

Marcus’s free hand gripped Valeria’s chin tightly. His thumb brushed over her lips, opening her mouth and speaking against her lips before exploring her mouth with his tongue.

“No, not now, my lady. This is your first night. I’ll come inside you when you’re ready,” he said, his breath mixed with hers…

When Marcus pushed his tongue into Valeria's mouth, he realized how wet she was. Warm and tempting, just like her wet vulva. His tongue licked her hungrily as he sensually caressed her clitoris and the entrance to her vagina.

Valeria was trying hard not to moan, otherwise she was about to reach the peak of pleasure that would echo throughout the room. But she couldn't do it, that would mean throwing herself into the fire. Especially with her brother behind the wall where her head was... What if he heard her sister's moans? This moment when the night locked the sounds inside made the sins much more visible. This was crazy. While her family was busy with their work in the house, their young daughter was tasting pleasure for the first time in the arms of a man older than her father in her room. Moreover, this risk, the idea of being caught, excited Valeria and made her feel every touch and caress of Marcus more sensitively.

Marcus wanted to see Valeria's womanhood, to live it, to feel it in his mouth the way he felt his tongue. To feel such a young, intact vulva in his mouth would be like a blessing to him. His whole system would collapse and his orgasm would be just as intense.

He pulled back his lips and sat up slightly. While Valeria was wondering what Marcus had in mind, Marcus completely removed her nightgown and dropped it on the nearby chair, leaving Valeria's smooth skin completely bare.

"Now I want you to open your legs a little, my lady," Marcus said. Valeria, excited at the certainty that he would finally enter her, did as he said. Her feet slid across the sheets, opening them wide enough for him to get between her hips. But something was wrong. She expected Marcus to stand up, put his knees on the bed, and get between her legs, facing each other, but he didn't. On the contrary, Marcus Acacius moved a little closer to the edge of the bed, away from her, and moved his head toward her womanhood.

Valeria raised her head and looked at what the man was doing. Her lips parted in surprise and excitement. "What are you doing, General?"

Marcus cocked his head mischievously and looked down at her. “I promise you, not a single day in your future sexual experiences will go by that this moment doesn’t cross your mind,” he said, his voice laced with bitterness and lust.

Valeria had heard about many sexual experiences while talking to her other noble friends. Some had been with her husband, some had been while she was handling a few boys chosen by the commoners, some had been with her lover. She even knew that her brother had been to Rome's most famous brothel, but she had never heard of such a thing or seen anyone do it. This was very new. Very different.

Marcus paused for a moment when he saw her vulva and how full it was. It was something else he thought was as delicious as red meat and wine. A juicy, gooey, full vulva. His fingers first squeezed the outer lips. Then he cupped her, feeling the fullness in his palm. Then he inserted his thumb and forefinger between her outer lips and stretched them outward. Her swollen, twitching clitoris stood before him like a work of art. It was bright red, stained with pink tones all the way to the entrance of her vagina.

"You are beautiful, Valeria," Marcus said, the admiration evident in his voice. "I have never seen anything like it before."

Valeria felt a twinge of shame in her heart. Everyone said she was the most beautiful girl in Rome, but no one had ever admired her body or her femininity. This was new, and it felt absurdly good.

When Marcus pressed his tongue against her inner lips and began to lick them up and down, Valeria flinched. Her eyebrows were furrowed in pleasure, and she could not breathe. She buried her head in the pillow and her chin rose. She wanted to scream, to moan out loud, but she could not. She exerted all her strength on the sheets, squeezing them until the veins in her hands became more visible. She held her breath when Marcus began to move his tongue in a circular motion around her clitoris and squirt. The slick sound of her wet vulva meeting his tongue echoed in her ears, and was proof of how hungrily he was licking.

While Marcus placed his tongue at the entrance of her vagina and stimulated it, Valeria bit her lower lip. Otherwise, her breathing would have increased, her breathing would have become harsh and she would have almost shouted. Her body was writhing in the arms of pleasure. In adolescence, Commodus would try to excite her with small touches to show how much he desired her and was in love. He touched her hips once, moved his lips to her neck once, and cupped her breasts once. These were the most erotic moments for a young girl who was just learning about her sexuality at that time, and even though she didn't like Commodus, she let him do these. She had always wanted to taste the strongest pleasures that sex would provide with the man she would love. But this was far beyond what she had expected.

Marcus continued to flick her inner lips with his tongue, occasionally kissing her and while kissing her, he was sucking her clitoris with juices, drinking her juices of pleasure. He continued to lick her from top to bottom with appetite, making small moans that showed how much he enjoyed it. In the meantime, Valeria's breasts rose and rose, feeling as if she could no longer endure this merciless pleasure, she involuntarily reached her hand to Marcus's gray hair and pulled it, intertwining her fingers between them. Her legs were shaking. She almost wanted to close her legs, squeeze her womanhood and give her body, which was captive to this wild pleasure, some rest.

Valeria nearly cried, “Please,” she moaned again, a low moan. But this time Marcus knew Valeria was ready. He pulled his head away from her vulva, straightened up, and crawled onto her. He put his hand on her neck and squeezed gently. He growled with the harsh, authoritative tone his military service had given him, “Please, what, Valeria, speak plainly to me!” All he needed was a nudge and he would give her what she wanted.

"Come inside me, I want you inside me," she begged.

Marcus sat up to pull off the fabric covering him, crossing his arms as he gripped the hem of his clothing and removed it in one swift motion. As his body was left completely bare, his tensed muscles, broad shoulders, and defined Adonis belt were revealed.

He leaned over her again, his groin between her legs as his long penis rubbed against the entrance to her vagina. He couldn't wait to root it in her vagina, but he was a gentleman enough to know that he had to practice first. He wanted to make Valeria's first night the most pleasurable of her life, and he was afraid of making her regret it.

As the hard tip of his cock continued to push against her vagina, he enjoyed the lustful expression on Valeria's face. Every time she moaned, he heard how much she enjoyed having a man as old as her father fuck her, and it made him even more horny.

He wanted a definitive answer from Valeria. He asked breathlessly, "Do you want my veiny cock in your tight vagina, Valeria, huh? Do you really want me inside you?"

Valeria's patience was running out, she put her hands on his hair and pulled, "Gods, do it Marcus, I want you inside me, please, do it."

Marcus put one hand on Valeria's face, so afraid of hurting her that he was very careful when entering her, while he was caressing the girl's cheek with affection. Valeria's juices were thick and slippery enough. So he had no trouble entering her. But Valeria's vagina, which had never tasted a penis inside her before, was stretched by Marcus's cock and it hurt when her walls completely enclosed him. She closed her eyes tightly, breathing through her teeth. "Marcus," she said with an innocent expression on her face, "it hurts."

Marcus continued his tender caresses. His lips kissed her between her jawbone and her ears, whispering, "Shh... It'll pass soon," he said, "No need to get excited, your vagina is just getting used to my big penis. It'll pass soon, okay," he said, continuing to caress her hair and treat her with care. As the pained expression on Valeria's face began to give way to pleasure again, Marcus sped up. His penis was completely hard, his balls red and swollen.

Neither of them could regulate their breathing rhythms, they were breathing rapidly. He kept his eyes fixed and wanted to see every expression of his forbidden love. When Valeria's moans started to get louder, Marcus' hands suddenly slid to her mouth and closed it tightly. "Try to control yourself, darling. You don't want your family to hear us, do you?" He growled with light moans. But how could a young woman who had experienced such pleasure for the first time stay calm while Marcus' thick tool was pressing on her 'G' spot?

Marcus pulled his hand away from her mouth and pushed his thumb into her lips. It was still early, but he wanted to imagine how Valeria would perform if she ever wanted to take his cock in her mouth. Valeria imitated Marcus’s tongue strokes as she licked his finger. His thumb was inside her mouth, leaving a salty taste on her tongue. She licked her warm finger, moving her tongue around both the top and bottom layers, licking hungrily like she was licking a candy cane. This was making Marcus even more horny. He increased his speed as he imagined her tongue strokes on his cock.

"You use your tongue wonderfully," he said to Valeria, and Valeria was proud that the experienced man in front of her was pleased despite her inexperienced sucking, and a strange desire arose within her.

There was a 'crack' sound as Marcus' balls hit Valeria's hips. The colorless liquid flowing from the tip of his penis combined with hers, making the squirting sound louder. The bed creaked in sync as he increased the speed of his fucking.

"Oh, my gods," Marcus moaned. "May the gods forgive me, but I love being close to you. I love touching you, Valeria." He continued to pound his cock into her rapidly. "No one loves you as much as I do, Valeria. Not the emperor, not anyone else, do you understand," he said between his growls. And he continued to fuck her mercilessly. He thrust hard as if the general spirit he had been trying to suppress had emerged. Valeria was now at the height of her orgasm. Although the penis had completely filled her vagina, the juices of pleasure had leaked from the vagina's exit. This drove her crazy and when she began to moan loudly, Marcus this time closed his lips on hers. He kissed her passionately. "Shhh... my love, be patient a little longer. It's almost here." The bed was shaking violently. Marcus's hips were now tightened, his sperm was almost about to wash Valeria's womanhood. But Marcus could not allow such a thing, he held himself back and suddenly pulled out of Valeria and came on her groin, breathless. As his sperm slid down her skin in a white liquid, Marcus looked at Valeria, supporting himself with his arms on either side of her head. There was a mixture of surprise and happiness on her face, while at the same time, his ears were ringing from the final stroke of pleasure. Marcus felt at ease with the idea that the goddess in front of him was pleased with him.

"I love you," Marcus said, and leaning forward, he kissed her on the forehead for a long time. Then he moved to her lips and kissed her warmly, as if they hadn't just made passionate love. Then he threw himself on the empty side of the bed.

Marcus Acacius lay wrapped around Valeria in the heavy silence that surrounded the room lit by the dim light of the torches. His chest supported Valeria's delicate head, while his hands tangled in her fine hair. That hair, which flowed through his fingers like a stream, lightened the weight of time with every touch.

Marcus's eyes were fixated on Valeria's face, resting peacefully on the snow-white pillow. The hands that his enemies had feared were now caressing her hair with a touch as gentle as a bird's feather.

"Valeria," he said, his voice calm but inescapable, like the waves beating on the rocks, "when I touch you my weary soul is instantly rejuvenated. I have spent a lifetime between sword and blood, but now for the first time I understand why my heart beats. Your existence is beyond my measure by any victory on the battlefield. You are my peace, my light, and the last miracle the gods have sent me."

Valeria found an echo of honesty and passion in his words.

As Marcus whispered these words, his eyes shone with deep love for Valeria. It was as if a dream otherworldly had come true, loosening the bonds between gods, man, and fate for a moment. In that moment, Valeria’s presence lightened all burdens in Marcus’s world, and the darkness in the room yielded to the light.

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