Octavian

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Octavian smiled triumphantly over the ruin of the art room. His Roman soldiers broke down the door to storm the rest of the palace. Octavian's heart pounded in his chest. Romans were very good at hiding their true feelings. Sometimes, it was useful survival skill. At some points, feelings can be dangerous. Octavian had one of those dangerous feelings right now.

His heart thumped so wildly, it wanted to betray him and push it's way out of his chest like a chick in an egg. His ears ringed. He felt his cheeks trying to flush. He forced himself to keep his calm. His vision blurred, and he saw only one thing: her beautiful face, imprinted in his mind so vividly it was as if he could reach out and touch her. Her freckle-speckled pale face, like the ghost of a princess. Her unnaturally frizzy red hair. Her entrancing green eyes, that seemed to stare right into your soul.

Octavian was hopelessly in love.