The morning sun painted the city in strokes of gold, its warmth struggling to dissolve the lingering mist curling over Rome’s rooftops. From his villa’s balcony, Lucius watched as the capital stirred to life—the clatter of hooves on cobblestone, the rhythmic chants of merchants hawking their wares, and the whispers of slaves exchanging hushed gossip before their masters woke.
Beyond the marble walls of his estate, power shifted like sand in a storm. The Senate, the legions, the hidden knives in the dark—every force in Rome moved against another in an endless struggle. And now, he was caught in the center of it.
A soft rustle behind him signaled Livia’s approach. Draped in a sheer silk robe, she leaned against the doorway, her eyes still heavy with sleep but sharp with curiosity.
“You’ve been awake for hours,” she murmured, padding barefoot across the cold stone.
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Lucius didn’t turn. “Sleep is a luxury I can no longer afford.”
Livia sighed, pressing against his back, her arms snaking around his waist. “You brood too much. Rome was built on the backs of men who took what they wanted without hesitation.” She rested her chin on his shoulder, her lips grazing his ear. “You should do the same.”
His hand came to rest atop hers. “And you would have me claim everything?”
She smiled against his skin. “If you don’t, someone else will.”
A knock at the door shattered the moment. Lucius tensed, pulling away as one of his trusted servants entered. The man bowed, his face grim. “Domine, Senator Gaius has summoned you to a private council. He requests your presence immediately.”
Lucius exchanged a glance with Livia. No summons was ever simple. And in Rome, a request was rarely just a request—it was a test.
He straightened, adjusting his tunic. “Have the horses prepared.”
Livia stepped back, watching him with an unreadable expression. “Be careful, Lucius.”
He smirked. “Careful men don’t rule Rome.”
She said nothing as he strode past her, but the warning in her eyes lingered long after he was gone.