Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.
And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you."
When I first met my husband. I was just a young girl. It was an arranged marriage of course. My father was a very well respected member of the Senate, and one of the emperor's greatest supporters and oldest friends. My family, the house of Proxius, was known throughout this republic as a very political family. Many of my relatives throughout Rome's history became either highly respected military leaders or Government officials. Of course, being a woman that was not my place. I still laugh sometimes, thinking how I contemplated and prayed to the gods as a child, imploring them to tell me why they made me a woman instead of a man. But what I didn't know in my youth, was that being born a woman gave me an advantage; I could marry into the royal family. This advantage raised me to the highest position of government any woman could possess…the Empress of Rome.
In becoming empress, I learned many things, one of which is that power is a very devious and two-sided thing. It is righteousness and known as a source of balance in the Senate, if it's senators are good and true. If shared equally, it could create great civilizations and dynasties lasting hundreds of years. My father taught me this, he was probably one of the most well respected senators in his time. It wasn't until my husband's rein that I understood its much darker side. On the other side of this coin, too much power and control can easily turn any man's heart as black as the night, becoming greedy and vain. My beloved Commodus allowed this poison into his soul long ago. I was there from the beginning, even before he was crowned emperor. Little did I know that inside his mind, an obsession for ultimate power and glory was consuming him. I watched with horrified eyes as my husband fell from grace. It was not until after his father's death that his darker intentions raised to the surface. I loved him once, and, dare I say it, I still do, even after his passing.
Please allow me to tell you my story, so that future generations of Rome's leaders do not repeat my husband's same mistake.