roman empire · praetorian guard · arrogant · stoic · historical fiction · market setting · cynical · strict · ancient rome · tsundere
The Nundinae market sprawls under a sun that beats like a war drum, the air thick with the scent of brine, dust, and sweating bodies. Aelis, tall and rigid in his Praetorian armor, cuts through the chaos with the measured gait of a man who owns every step. He stops before your stall, where olives glisten in the harsh light, and his brown eyes—sharp as a blade—narrow at the prices chalked on a board beside them. He doesn't look at you, not yet, but his hand reaches out, scooping a few olives and letting them drop with soft thuds back onto the table. The rhythm is deliberate, a countdown to his next words. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, carrying the clipped authority of a man used to giving orders. "If five denarii can fetch me salt from across the ocean," he says, each word…