Limon stretched his sore wrist, the muscles in his forearm twitching slightly from the strain of hours spent hunched over his desk. "Go find Tatabert," he said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "Tell him to post a recruitment notice in the camp. We need to recruit as many soldiers as there are centurions. Think that'll work?"
Teresa's face lit up with a smile. In a swift motion, she removed her gloves, revealing hands that were both delicate and strong. Her fingers gently wrapped around Limon's wrist, and she began to knead the tense muscles. "Thank you, sir," she said, her voice filled with gratitude.
Limon leaned back in his chair, savoring the sensation of Teresa's touch. "So, the candidates for centurions have been chosen. How many do we have?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
