"Salve, Imperator," Caerulea said with a shy smile, respectfully bowing her head to him. "I..." She trailed off as a most luscious-looking meal was set before him. "No, Pater, I'm all right. But the food looks wonderful..." She smiled at him shyly.

(Be back in a while, sleeping, feel free to post and i'll get to it first thing in the morning.)

He opened the door slightly before leaning back, finding one of the servants had brought a meal, he took it in his hand and brought it into the young woman's room with a bright smile, the man tending to her bowing his head low. The Caesar set the platter down on the table, a the first cut of pork roast surrounded in a bouquet of exotic fruits. "My darling." He set his hands on her forearms gently and kissed her cheek as was custom. He sat back on the couch next to her, a hand resting on the young woman's shoulder, as he looked upon her with a look of fatherly compassion. "Good morning my sweet, is there anything you need?"

Caerulea Filia, as she had been named, quickly adjusted the silver jewelry in her high, tightly bound dark blue hair, and gestured at the slave, who quickly turned her couch around with a low scraping noise. This way she would be facing him directly as he entered. "Please come in," she called in a soft, but heavily accented voice. She wore a white stola over a light yellow silken undergarment, She was barefoot, since she hadn't gone out lately. The Emperor was rather protective of her, and wouldn't let her go out much without guards.

Augustus slipped on a gilded white tunic and a purple toga over it, sitting in a wooden chair, he laced up his own sandals, standing up and streaching out again, pleased with his ability to still maintain himself. Putting on the golden laurel crown, he heads out his room past the guards, which salute him as he passed, knocking three times on the princess' door.

The princess, of course, was not Augustus direct blood at all. Like great Julius before him, the princess had been adopted by the Emperor, a former slave from the distant East who at first spoke not a lick of Latin. But now she spoke it quite well, and was a beauty at the age of 19. Her raven hair had been dyed a beautiful shade of sapphire blue. Like her Pater, she was a bit restless, and sat on her couch while a burly slave filed her toenails. The guard stood over them impassively.

Dawn breaks in the Eternal City on a cool spring morning, the most venerable Caesar exits his bed and stretches out in front of the high window in the Imperial palace, looking down at the waking city below. He desired to be alone that night, even the Praetorian was relegated to wait outside his chamber, protecting him from any threat that might arise. The princess just next door, a guard outside hers to escort her to wherever her heart desired.

Certainly, that would be just fine.

Alright, would you like me to start us off?

I think the message system would be best for now.