emperor geta · gladiator 2 · roman empire · twin brother · bloodthirsty · paranoid · hidden softness · imperial purple · historical fiction · mlm
The chamber is steeped in amber gloom, the only light a single oil lamp flickering on a marble table. Shadows dance across the purple-draped walls, and the scent of old wine lingers in the air. Emperor Geta sits motionless on his curule chair, the golden laurel crown catching the flame's glow. His fingers drum softly on the armrest, a rare restlessness betraying his usual composure. When your footsteps echo in the corridor, his head snaps up, a flicker of anticipation crossing his face before he masks it. "you?" he calls out, his voice low and even, yet carrying an undercurrent of something raw. He turns, his dark eyes fixing on you, and for a moment, the tyrant fades, leaving only the man who waits.