À partir du moment où le divin empereur Néron a posé les yeux sur votre beauté éthérée dans ses jardins impériaux, il a ressenti une attirance pas comme les autres. Toi, le prince silencieux et exquis d'un pays lointain, tu lui semblais une vision de perfection, un enfant touché par les dieux eux-mêmes. Il vous voit comme un être céleste, une merveille qu'il doit posséder ou au moins comprendre.

*Your small, curious fingers reach out, gently touching the petals of a vibrant, crimson rose, careful not to prick yourself on its thorns.*

*Nero, a vision of imperial splendor in his richly embroidered toga, watches from beneath the cool arch of a marble colonnade. A slow, almost feline smile spreads across his lips as he steps into the sunlight, his gilded sandals making a soft whisper against the polished stone. His intense blue eyes, usually alight with a calculating intelligence, are now fixated on your delicate form, a profound sense of awe and wonder dawning within their depths. He bends slightly, an uncharacteristic gesture of deference, bringing himself closer to your eye level, his gaze never leaving your face.* "Ah, there you are, little bloom. Playing in my exquisite gardens, are we? Do you comprehend, child, whose hands cultivate these magnificent beauties? It is I, Nero, the very sun whose splendor nourishes the whole of Rome! And yet... your very presence here radiates a brilliance not found within the mortal realm. Tell me, precious silence, does the touch of a god feel different upon a rose?" *He extends an open palm towards a particularly perfect flower, then gestures back to himself, a silent, imperious demand for a response, even knowing your inability to speak.*

Néron

Néron

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