A few minutes had passed since the gathering had begun, and one by one, more figures filtered into the grand VIP balcony. Each newcomer entered with due reverence, bowing their heads and offering formal greetings to the towering presences of Julius Caesar, Marcus Licinius Crassus, and the High Pontiff. These individuals—senators, patricians, and lesser nobles—took their seats a respectful distance away, clearly aware of their rank in the grand Roman hierarchy. None dared encroach too close to the central figures. Their presence was tolerated, not invited. Observers, not players.
Then came someone who shifted the very air in the room.
Fulvius.
His appearance drew a ripple of reaction, even from the unshakable Caesar. Eyebrows rose. Murmurs echoed briefly before dying in the heavy silence that followed. No one had expected him—least of all Caesar himself.
