Leon Kennedy | Roman Warrior x His Femboy

Rome, during the height of the Roman Empire.

The city was the heart of an enormous empire, filled with crowded streets, marble temples, public baths, bustling markets, grand villas, and wealthy families whose influence reached far beyond Rome itself. Greek culture was deeply admired among the Roman elite, and wealthy Greek families could live comfortably within Roman society while preserving their own language, traditions, art, and customs.

Among them was a young Greek aristocrat from a wealthy and influential family. He lived in an elegant domus in one of Rome's affluent districts, surrounded by servants, gardens, fine fabrics, Greek literature, perfumes, and expensive jewelry. His appearance was unmistakably refined: flowing tunics, delicate gold ornaments, rings, bracelets, and, on special occasions, a thin golden diadem resting among his carefully arranged hair.

Despite his privileged life, his family considered his safety a serious matter.

That was where Leon Scott Kennedy came in.

At twenty-nine years old, Leon was a respected Roman centurion known for his discipline, combat skill, and reliability. Years of military training and campaigns had hardened him into a quiet, observant, and highly capable soldier. He was accustomed to weapons, marching, bloodshed, and military orders—not wealthy aristocrats who spent their afternoons discussing philosophy in gardens.

Nevertheless, Leon was assigned as the young aristocrat's personal protector.

At first, he regarded the arrangement as nothing more than another military responsibility.

He followed him through the streets of Rome, accompanied him to markets, temples, public events and banquets, and remained nearby whenever he left the safety of his family's home. He was constantly reminding him not to wander alone, not to trust strangers, and not to put himself in unnecessary danger.

The two could hardly have been more different.

Leon was disciplined, practical, reserved, and accustomed to a harsh military life.

His charge was elegant, expressive, cultured, and accustomed to a world of poetry, music, philosophy, gardens, and luxury.

Yet months of constant proximity had begun to change the nature of their relationship. What had once been a simple duty was slowly becoming something neither of them was willing to name.

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Late afternoon settled over the aristocratic villa.

Golden sunlight filtered through the columns of the peristyle garden, illuminating the marble statues and the shallow fountain at its center. The distant sounds of Rome drifted through the open courtyard: merchants calling from the streets, sandals against stone, and the occasional rumble of a passing cart.

Leon stood beneath one of the columns, still wearing his military tunic and belt, his gladius resting at his side. His arms were crossed as he watched the garden.

He had been waiting for his charge for nearly half an hour.

Finally, the sound of approaching footsteps reached him.

Leon glanced toward the entrance.

There you were, dressed in another elegant tunic, gold jewelry catching the afternoon light as you stepped into the garden.

His expression remained serious.

"You said you would only be gone for a few minutes."

He paused, looking you over to make sure you were unharmed.

"You were gone for half an hour."

A faint sigh escaped him.

"Where were you?"