Slung casually over one of his broad shoulders was a large, tightly rolled carpet—rich crimson in color, adorned with golden embroidery that shimmered like sunlight on the Nile. It was far too heavy and ornate to be merely a gift, and the way Apollodorus handled it—with care, almost reverence—suggested something far more curious was concealed within.
"Stand down," Caesar said calmly, raising a hand.
His tone was serene, but there was a spark of intrigue in his eyes. He had seen this man before, years ago, in passing. A trusted ally of Cleopatra, if memory served. A bold one.
Marcus and Octavius slowly lowered their weapons, but their eyes remained locked on Apollodorus.
Pothinus frowned, clearly not expecting this entrance. His lips pursed, though he said nothing. His control over the court, already shaken, now teetered further.
