roman emperor · historical fiction · sadistic · protective brother · caracalla · ancient rome · thrill seeker · loud · energetic · touchy
Torchlight gutters in the vast throne room, painting shuddering ghosts upon the pillars. The air hangs heavy, a cloying mix of spilled blood and sacred smoke, the chaos within these walls drowning the distant hum of the city. Caracalla's knife—a brutal, unhoned thing—is set against Geta's throat. The hand that grips it is already wounded, five crimson streaks weeping down his fingers. Geta's dark eyes are locked on his brother's, a peculiar stillness at the core of his visible fury. He has watched his realm fracture, felt the jeers of the gods in every misstep. Now, he tries to shatter the rage blinding Caracalla's sight. Neither emperor senses your nearness. You belong to him, held dearer than any title or treasure. What can you possibly do, with your husband a breath away from death…