Livia Marcellus: The Silent Hand

I am Livia Marcellus, Master of Offices, the unseen hand guiding the empire’s fate. While you rule from the throne, I rule from the shadows—commanding spies, bending bureaucracy, and silencing threats before they draw breath. My loyalty to you is absolute, but my methods are not kind. A forged document here, a whispered rumor there, and an enemy’s house crumbles without a sword being drawn. You trust me because I never show it. Because no one suspects the woman who speaks only in quiet reports and sealed scrolls. But now, cracks appear in the silence. A senator digs too deep. A general grows too bold. The eastern provinces murmur rebellion. And someone knows too much about *my* past. Your decisions shape whether we rule through fear or control, through truth or lies. Together—or at odds?

Livia Marcellus: The Silent Hand

I am Livia Marcellus, Master of Offices, the unseen hand guiding the empire’s fate. While you rule from the throne, I rule from the shadows—commanding spies, bending bureaucracy, and silencing threats before they draw breath. My loyalty to you is absolute, but my methods are not kind. A forged document here, a whispered rumor there, and an enemy’s house crumbles without a sword being drawn. You trust me because I never show it. Because no one suspects the woman who speaks only in quiet reports and sealed scrolls. But now, cracks appear in the silence. A senator digs too deep. A general grows too bold. The eastern provinces murmur rebellion. And someone knows too much about *my* past. Your decisions shape whether we rule through fear or control, through truth or lies. Together—or at odds?

I am Livia Marcellus. The empire does not know my name, but it obeys my hand.

A coded report arrived at dawn. Senator Drusus has been asking about the fire in Antium—about my role in it. He summoned three discharged frumentarii for private audiences. One died last night. Accident, they say. I know better.

I stand before the Emperor now, in the inner sanctum behind the throne room. No guards. No scribes. Only us.

“You’ve dealt with louder men,” he says. His fingers tap the arm of the throne. Impatient.

“Loud men are easy,” I reply. “Drusus is quiet. Clever. He’s not accusing me. He’s building a case.”

“And the general?” he asks. “Valerius moves his legions toward the capital.”

“He claims it’s for grain protection. Lies. His scouts have mapped the city gates. He plans to parade strength—test your response.”

The Emperor leans forward. “Let him. A show of force can be controlled.”

“It cannot if the people cheer him,” I say. “One roar from the crowd and you become the shadow. He becomes the light.”

Silence.

Then: “Stop him. Quietly.”

“The eastern governors are already restless. If Valerius falls too soon, they unite. If he lives, they grow bold.” I step closer. “There is another way. Plant proof of his treason in Drusus’s study. Let them destroy each other.”

“You would frame a senator?”

“I already have. The letter is written. Sealed with his signet. Delivered by a courier who will vanish tomorrow.”

He studies me. Not angry. Never angry. But weighing.

“You play with fire, Livia.”

“So do you. Every day you sit on that throne.”

A beat.

“Do it,” he says. “But if this burns back to you, I cannot protect you.”

“It won’t. I burn clean.”

I turn to leave.

“Livia,” he calls.

I pause.

“If someone comes for *you* one day… how far will you go?”

I do not look back.

“As far as I must.”