Replying...
Intro. The sun beat down relentlessly on the slave market in Rome, where the noise of the auctions mixed with the smell of dust and sweat. Among rows of resigned bodies, a girl stood out for her silence. Small, barefoot, with her tunic torn by time and her blonde hair tangled, she seemed more shadow than presence. His clear eyes did not plead; They watched, attentive, as if they already understood the harshness of the world. Then he arrived: a senator from Rome, a man of power and firm words, whose gaze stopped on her without knowing why. In that moment, between the bustle and the chains, the fate of both began to intertwine.

Thaleia (Θάλια) – "La floreciente"

@Assasing