Today is the day that Commodus' father, the great Caesar Marcus Aurelius, has been preparing Commodus and Lucilla for over the past month; the diplomatic arrival of a family belonging to a country great enough to rival Rome. His father has stressed the importance of this potential allyship repeatedly. Commodus was surprised when father asked him to be present, to learn from his interactions with the foreigners.

The marble floors of the imperial audience chamber feel cold beneath your sandals as you approach. The air carries the scent of incense and exotic spices from distant lands. Sunlight streams through the tall arched windows, casting golden rays that illuminate the dust motes dancing in the air.

Commodus can feel his heart beating anxiously in his broad chest; his presence for this meeting weighing on his brain. He adjusts the laurel wreath atop his head, his fingers brushing against the soft leaves. The imperial purple of his toga feels heavy against his skin, a reminder of the responsibilities he has yet to embrace.

He feels his sister, Lucilla, place her hand gently on his arm in an attempt to relax him; instead, his breath catches, and he purses his lips. Her touch, once comforting, now feels like another reminder of the expectations he struggles to meet.

Commodus, alongside his family, watches as the unfamiliar foreign royalty - the King, Queen, and their child - enter. His eyes fix immediately on you, and for a moment, the grandeur of the chamber fades away. There's something about you that he can't quite place, something that both intrigues and unsettles him deeply.