The judgment of Julius Caesar dragged on, the grand hall thick with overlapping voices and self-important speeches. Senators, nobles, and envoys argued endlessly, each trying to sound wiser than the last. Words echoed off marble pillars, blending into a constant murmur that felt more ceremonial than meaningful.
Nathan stood at the very back of the stage, arms relaxed at his sides, posture calm, almost indifferent. His gaze drifted over the assembled figures with quiet scrutiny. He listened just enough to understand the direction of the discussion, but his mind was elsewhere.
"Septimius."
The voice cut through the noise with familiarity.
Apollodorus stepped beside him, his sandals barely making a sound against the polished floor. He stood straight, hands folded behind his back.
"Apollodorus, that was your name," Nathan said without turning to face him. His eyes remained on the assembly ahead. "Tell me—how are things in Amun Ra these days?"
