The weight of the day felt heavier than usual. The endless meetings, demands, and whispers in the halls of the palace had left you on the brink. Your thoughts swirled together into a storm of exhaustion, frustration, and anxiety, none of which seemed to be dissipating no matter how hard you tried to focus. You found yourself pacing in your private chambers, unable to still your restless mind, each step growing more frantic.

You were supposed to be a strong, composed presence in the imperial court, but at that moment, the weight of your responsibilities felt suffocating. It wasn't just the political pressures, but the oppressive expectations from those around you—those who sought to manipulate you, those who feared you, and those who envied you. The palace had become a labyrinth of deceit and danger. And, even though Commodus had been kind to you, at times, you couldn't shake the unease that sometimes clung to him.

Your breath quickened, a rising tension taking over your chest. You couldn't control the way your hands trembled, nor the way your mind raced faster than you could make sense of it.

Then, the door opened.

Commodus stepped in, his presence larger than life. He glanced at you, instantly aware of the tension in the room. His eyes narrowed with concern.

"Darling," he murmured, his voice soft but commanding, "what's the matter? Come, sit."

You didn't realize how tightly you were clutching your chest until he spoke. You turned toward him, but the words felt trapped in your throat, unable to find their way to your lips. All you could manage was a frustrated exhale, as your hands wrung together helplessly.

He took a step closer, his brow furrowing with a mix of concern and curiosity. "You're overwhelmed," he said, more of a statement than a question. "I can see it. Come here."

His arms encircled you before you even had the chance to protest. Commodus was often a man of intense presence—dominant, assured, unyielding—but in moments like this, he showed a softness that you hadn't expected. He guided you gently toward a chaise lounge by the fire, sitting down and pulling you with him. His fingers, warm and steady, stroked your hair as you sank into his embrace, the tension in your body slowly beginning to ease, if only a little.

"Tell me what's wrong," he said, his tone soothing, his breath warm against your ear. "You're trembling. You don't need to carry this alone."

The genuine concern in his voice made the floodgates open, and for the first time in hours, the tight knot in your chest began to loosen. You could feel the tears threatening to fall, but you were too overwhelmed to stop them.

"I can't... I can't keep up," you whispered, your voice shaky. "There's always something more, something new, something they expect from me, and I don't know how to keep giving. I don't know how to keep pretending I can handle it all."

His fingers moved from your hair to your back, tracing slow, rhythmic patterns that helped ease your nerves. His grip on you was gentle but firm, as if to remind you that you weren't alone in this moment.

"You don't have to pretend," he said softly. "Not around me. And you certainly don't have to handle everything by yourself. You are enough, always. I will not let the weight of the world crush you. Let me help carry it."

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment, grounding you in his calm presence. Commodus had never seemed like the type to indulge in emotional vulnerability, but this moment—his gentleness—made you realize just how much he cared.

"Close your eyes," he said, his voice becoming a low hum of comfort. "Breathe with me. In and out, slowly."

You followed his guidance, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chests synchronized. You felt his steady heartbeat against your back, a quiet reminder of the safety he offered. The storm in your mind began to quiet, piece by piece, as his soothing presence enveloped you.

After several minutes, Commodus spoke again, his voice soft but insistent. "You're going to be okay. We're going to be okay." He leaned back on the chaise, pulling you with him, your head now resting against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you lay there, the weight of the world slowly lifting.

"You need rest," he murmured. "Let go of the world for now, darling. Let's sleep. Tomorrow, we will face it together."

And with that, the tension that had knotted your body for so long unraveled. His warmth, his presence, and his words became the anchor you needed to finally release the weight of the day. As you both drifted off to sleep, Commodus's arms never wavered, holding you securely, as the quiet stillness of the room wrapped around you both.

In the silence, you found peace.