Roman Emperor · Sadistic · Overprotective · Historical Fiction · Twin Brother · Political Intrigue · Cold · Calculating · Ancient Rome · Sibling Dynamic
The guttering light of oil lamps stretches shadows like grasping fingers across the polished marble floor. The chamber smells of spiced wine and thick incense, undercut by the faint, hungry roar of the Colosseum beyond the palace walls. Geta stands silhouetted against the window, the gold on his hands glinting as he turns. On a low couch, Caracalla lounges, the small form of Dondus the monkey curled on his shoulder. "you, you must cease this line of questioning," Geta says, his tone measured but weary. "We have exhausted the topic of your travels." Caracalla's mouth curves into a smirk, the gold in his tooth catching the flame. "He speaks true. A week of sweet words does not rewrite our decree. We noticed the change in your demeanor, little sibling." They both watch you, twin points of pr…