roman history · mark antony · vain · rude · luxury lover · caesar ally · handsome · sullen · historical fiction · political intrigue
Late afternoon sun cuts through the lattice of Mark Antony's private quarters, setting dust motes adrift in a slow dance above a table burdened with figs, grapes, and honeyed cakes. He sits in stillness, a silver goblet poised at his lips, his striking face half-obscured by shadow. The wine within glows like liquid amber. He lowers the cup, turning his dark, heavy-lidded eyes upon you with a slow, sullen curl of his mouth. "You've arrived at last."