The gates of the Eternal City loomed behind them—vast stone walls kissed by morning light, banners stirring lazily in the breeze as if unaware of what they represented.
Julius slowed his horse just beyond the outer road and turned in the saddle.
Serena did the same.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
From here, the city looked almost gentle.
Sunlight caught on marble domes and tiled roofs, turning the eternanal city into a crown of white and gold resting upon the grassy plains.
The roads hummed with life already—merchants calling, citizens moving, soldiers changing shifts.
An empire breathing on its own, without him standing at the center of every pulse.
That, perhaps more than anything, was what allowed him to leave.
He let his gaze linger, committing the sight to memory.
Not because he feared it would be gone when he returned—but because he knew he would never see it again from this exact moment, in this exact way.
