The Heart of Rome

by missadangel

Summary:

You are a secret medicus (a psychian), who embarks on a dangerous path to heal General Marcus Acacius, wounded during the war, but there is a secret, you think you're an orphan, but you're wrong. You're actually, the daughter of the previous emperor. Everyone including your emperor half brothers think you're dead long ago. But you don't know anything about this yet, and everything you know will change forever.

Notes:

English is not my native language sorry for all mistakes, hope you all like my story, my chapters will be looong, so have fun :)

Chapter 1: Heal the Heart

 

Odi et amo. Quare id faciam, nescio. Sed fieri sentior et excrucior. 

I love you and I hate you. 
Why I do this, I have no idea. 
But I feel it happening and I’m in agony.
[Catullus]

 

Following the conquest of Egypt and its incorporation into the Roman Empire, there was a growing interest in its ancient culture. Over time, many in Egypt began to express a desire for greater autonomy and control over their own affairs. Dissatisfaction with Roman control over Egypt became part of the Egyptian psyche.

This is precisely why, immediately following the death of Emperor Septimius Severus, preparations for revolt began in Egypt. His emperor sons, Caracalla and Geta, were mainly focused on quarreling with each other, drinking, and enjoying themselves, while their subjects faced starvation. They organized games, watched gladiators fight, and took pride in their activities. Even when informed of the revolt in Egypt, they continued their indulgent ways, showing little care for anything beyond their own pleasures and daily pursuits.

The Egyptians were, of course, aware of their limitations; they knew they could not be as strong a soldier as their emperor father. They were confident that the day would come when, with the help of the Greeks, they would overthrow the Roman governors in Egypt. After all, they had been preparing for this since the death of Severus. Among them were also Jews, all eager to establish the sovereignty of ancient Egypt. However, there was one crucial factor they did not consider or pay much attention to.

General Marcus Justus Acacius.

They say, you can feel the ground shake when he walks on it. He makes his opponents feel certain of their own death at the very moment he draws his sword. A daring commander with few who could stand up to him. It is unclear whether this is an exaggeration or not, but it is still rumored that he cut a lion in half in the Colosseum.

A beast in every sense of the word.

More than that, he is a leader who manages his legions very well and spurs them on to achieve success during the war, a man who has not yet tasted a failure and has well-earned the title of general in every way.

Since it was obvious that no one else could succeed in suppressing the rebellion, he was immediately sent to the region with the intervention of his Empresss Julia Domna, the mother of the two emperors.

Just like she guessed, he had succeeded in putting down the rebellion; of course, no doubt, as soon as his name rang through, the rebels, along with all the inhabitants of Egypt, knew that they were already defeated.

Some were forced to surrender, those who resisted and fled were found and killed by the Roman soldiers, but not all. The general didn't kill the surrendered ones, he took them as captives which was pretty fair for a beast. In contrast to him, the ones who fled were not, they were so desperate that they didn't know what to do and they started attacking everything and everywhere like rabid dogs.

They even attempted to violate the laws of war and mapped out a plan to kill the General and his soldiers, and even all the medics, in the night at their camps. It was a suicide mission, but they were on the verge of success.

"Has anyone seen the General? He’s not in his tent!" A burly soldier entered, gripping his sword, which was stained with the blood of the rebel he had just killed. He quickly searched through all the tents, wearing a look of concern on his face.

The clinking of swords echoed in the darkness as the soldiers cut down the last remaining rebels to death with their swords.

Soon, the soldier ran to his General, relieved to see him, but he was wounded in the abdomen moments ago. As he gently pressed his hand to his injury, a small amount of blood emerged, shining like rubies under the moonlight as it dripped from between his strong fingers onto the grass. His attackers were no longer alive, they were all lying on the ground, were literally cut to ribbons. They attacked him in his sleep when he was wearing nothing but his tunic, catching him off guard. He nodded to the soldier, demanding assistance as his white tunic transformed into a crimson hue. He had been wounded many times before, countless times, but this was nothing like before and was undoubtedly the worst injury he had ever sustained. "I think I… got…," he groaned; it hurt much even when he spoke, feeling like beneath the wound, his blood was boiling. "…poisoned." These were the last words spilled from his lips before his enormous body slumping to his knees, collapse altogether to the ground.

-----

The woman with waist-length with black hair was dragging you along with her as she walking across the meadow, you were struggled, couldn’t control your feet, as if the ground was sliding under. She had her hands outstretched at her sides, even though her back was turned, it was not difficult to see her smile by the sunlight reflecting the curve of her chin. She abruptly ceased her movement and bent down to gather a few herbs in a meadow. She plucked them, gathered them in her palms, and kissed them. You heard the whispers between her lips and the harmony of the wind rippling through your ears. It was clear that she was blessing these herbs. When she turned to you, you staggered backwards, hypnotized by her face, so beautiful, mesmerizing, her eyes hypnotizing yours, it was impossible to look away, no escape from them.

Perhaps even more surprising than anything else was that her face and eyes were identical to yours. It really was truly astonishing. She handed you the plants like they were rare jewelry. You could see her arms shone in the sun, and her skin looked like fine marble. It was impossible to believe that it could be human skin; it must have been that of a goddess, but why did her face resemble yours?

'Heal the heart, child,' her voice sang through the meadow like a gentle breeze. You couldn't move your lips, but she heard you anyway.

‘Heart?’

A warm wind blew, and the silhouette of the woman came closer, startling you. Her hazel eyes were turning green under the sun. As she slightly opens her lips, you locked your eyes on them and waited eagerly for the answer.

‘The heart of Rome,’ almost whispers, ‘Serve it,’ a little loud now like commanding, ‘Heal it...’ again whispers then gently puts the herbs on your hand.

A strong wind blew, and the silhouette of the woman danced with the wind. The sunny sky burst into a starry night as the wind embraced the silhouette and rose to the sky, to the stars. You felt the ground under your feet, but your eyes were drawn to the enchanting sky.

As the wind finally gave way to the silent night, you looked at the herbs you were holding in your hand. These kind of herbs you were used to seeing almost every day, but what you were not used to seeing was that they were sparkling like diamonds between your fingers. It was as if you could feel their healing power on your skin.

Abruptly, you heard the voice again, echoing across the meadow. Your ears were once more caressed, blessed, but this time, the words were different.

‘Cure him…’

----

You barely heard your name being called and your body was shaking, slowly opened your eyes, you saw a familiar but worried face.

‘Wake up, please, you need to get up now,’ the concern in the man's voice brought you back to reality, the effect of the dream disappearing like a cloud of dust between the stone walls and dissipating into the air.

‘Uncle?’

You had rarely seen this face of your uncle who had taken you in when you were an orphan, who cared for you, protected you and raised you well more than any other father or mother ever would.

You sat up from the firm mattress you were lying on, ‘I thought we were traveling tomorrow night?’

‘No, no, that's not why I woke you up,’ he put your big dark cloak over your head. ‘You need to hide.’

You were startled to hear shouting and footsteps coming from outside the wooden door of the room. This was not the sort of noise you would normally expect to hear in this Valetudinarium (hospital, clinic) at this late hour. 

‘What is going on?’ You rub your eyes with your fingers, trying to figure out the situation.

Your uncle tucked your hair deeper into your cloak.

'The Roman soldiers are gathering all the medici (psychians). I have to go with them.'

'Roman soldiers? I thought they left after they put down the rebellion and slaughtered thousands. Besides, they must have a medicus in their camps, why would they-?'

He grabbed you by the shoulders, his anxiety evident.

'I heard that some rebellious individuals killed the Medici in their tents, and then-'

A soldier's voice was heard from one of the nearby rooms. You both turned your heads in that direction, startled, and then looked at each other again.

'Their general was targeted. The rebels attacked him in his sleep. He managed to fight back, but he was poisoned. Now, they want me to save him.'

“Poisoned? But Uncle, he might already be dead! If you can’t cure him, they’ll blame you or punish you!”

“Don’t think about that now. You need to hide. Remember, as a woman, you aren’t allowed to be here. You have to conceal yourself and wait for my return.”

The soldiers’ voices were heard nearby.

"No, I’ll come with you. If it’s aspis venom (a venomous snake found in the Nile region), we’ll use the same techniques as we did with the boy last time. It would take too long to make the antivenom alone. Let me help you."

"It’s too dangerous for you, my dearest, to go among the soldiers. Even if you wear men’s clothes, we can’t hide the beauty of your face."

You walked over to the cauldron in the fireplace and ran your hands over the soot that had accumulated beneath it. 

"It worked before," you said, rubbing a bit of soot on your cheeks.

"That was only at the market. This time it’s more dangerous. I’d never forgive myself if I couldn’t protect you there."

 

"Don’t worry. I’ll be back here as soon as we finish making the antivenom. I know all the paths and shortcuts very well now."

 

Suddenly, a soldier burst in, kicking the door angrily, making you shudder.

 

“You two! Move, now! We don't have time!”

 

“We're collecting all the medical supplies, sir,” you heard your uncle say before the soldier turned to you. “Come on, boy, don't dawdle!”

 

You nodded without making eye contact with the soldier and quickly grabbed all the medicine bottles.

 

“You'd better hurry!” the soldier shouted as he left the room.

 

As soon as the soldier was gone, your uncle swiftly moved to the corner and opened a small wooden chest. He took out a cream-colored envelope made of slightly worn paper, sealed with a wax stamp bearing the emblem of Septimius Severus.

 

“This is…”

"I was going to give this to you tomorrow, as I promised last time, but there's no time now. If anything happens to me, you will open it. Everything about your true family is in here."

You took the envelope from him with shaky hands. It had been sealed by the former emperor himself, and you wondered what was written inside.

Your uncle grabbed your shoulders and shook you to ensure you understood the importance of the letter. "No one should ever see this. Do you understand me? No one! After you open it, hide it. Do not let anyone see it. But don't lose it; hide it as if your life depends on it. You'll understand why."

You nodded firmly and swallowed hard, tucking the letter into the bag hanging around your neck. You hid it at the very bottom under the medicine bottles, causing them to rattle in the process.

"Aya, you’re going to have to choose," he said, looking at you intently before leaving the room.

"Choose what, uncle?"

"To run or to stay. It’ll all make sense when you read the letter," he said, glancing down the hall before grabbing your wrist. You were confused, but you knew you had to think about this later.

"We have to get out now; soldiers are outside. Quick!"

----

The soldiers had gathered all the medici they could find at the army camp headquarters near the tents. There were seven of them, but they were unable to find a solution for the General's injury. As you and your uncle were next in line, a burly soldier of higher rank approached you both. You kept your head down, avoiding eye contact. Everyone was in a rush, nearly all mobilized to save the General's life. Your gender didn't matter to them at that moment. Just as you were about to follow your uncle into the tent, the soldier raised his hand to stop you.

‘Only the medicus.’

‘My aide, sir, let him in. He's as expert as I am.’

As your uncle is their last hope, he let you in but did not follow you inside, standing guard outside the tent. The General's squire stood next to him, looking at you with tears in his eyes. It was a heartbreaking sight. The sorrow had enveloped everything inside the tent, and you could feel it deep in your bones.

The General lay on a mattress in the west corner of the tent. He was unconscious, but you noticed his lips moving as if he were murmuring. You stepped forward to take a closer look at his face, which you had been so curious about.

His face was exactly as you had imagined, yet somehow different. He had numerous scars, as if he had been born with them, and his light brown skin embraced them. His mustache and beard were partially gray, and his nose and chin were perfectly shaped, as though Prometheus himself had spent extra time crafting this man. His face was stunning, causing your heart to race. You had never felt this way about any other man, though you had never had the opportunity to do so.

You were somewhat disappointed to see his eyes closed. You longed to know what they looked like and were eager to see his expression when he opened them. You were momentarily surprised by the desire to touch his face. For an instant, you forgot why you were there. Meanwhile, your uncle had picked up the sword with which the General had been wounded and was examining the blood on it. You moved over to help him, keeping one eye on the General, who lay there with his imposing build and half of the white tunic he wore stained red.

Your heart constricted with pain, and the dream you had came vividly to mind.

‘Cure him.’

"We need to check his wound!" Your uncle's loud voice startled you, and you squinted at him, feeling ashamed. 

As your uncle gestured for you to come closer, you saw that the wound was not deep, but the skin around it was turning pale from the venom, and the edges were curling inward. 

"He doesn't have much time. Let's start making the antivenom now," he said, swallowing hard. The situation was worsening, and you knew you had to cure him no matter what. Perhaps this was why the gods had shown you this in your dream; they had warned you in advance that your life depended on it. 

The process of making the antivenom took slightly longer than you had anticipated, but you persevered admirably. Your uncle cleaned the wound to neutralize it while you sweated through your clothes. Finally, when the antivenom was ready, your uncle carefully applied the antidote to the wound, but he was exhausted, his fingers shaking. You stepped in to help despite feeling weary yourself. Your eyelids felt heavy, but you managed to see your task through to the end.

The soldier from earlier entered the tent to check on the situation. You bowed your head and stepped back. 

"We've cleaned the wound, and once it's neutralized, we applied the antidote. We just need to wait now," your uncle informed him, wiping sweat from his forehead. "We need to give him some time and ensure he drinks water soon to avoid dehydration."

As the soldier examined the wound, you turned your head to look at the squire boy, who had been sobbing just moments ago but had now already fallen asleep. Poor boy, you thought. 

The soldier then ordered you to leave the tent and wait outside.

You felt your arms and legs go numb with fatigue and collapsed to the ground, sitting cross-legged and trying hard to stay awake. Your uncle was in the same state, but he still struggled to resist sleep. In the end, he couldn't keep his eyelids from closing.

You woke up to the sound of soldiers shouting and arguing. Turning your head, you couldn't make out what they were disagreeing about, but their noise was overwhelming.

"You better go in and make sure the General drinks some water. He needs to stay hydrated," your uncle said firmly, likely keeping an eye on the soldiers outside.

The tent was empty except for the General. A soldier from earlier was outside, reassuring the other soldiers. You approached the General to check on him. His forehead was covered in sweat, and his body was fighting off venom. You quickly grabbed a damp cloth and pressed it gently against his forehead. Then you touched his lips with your thin, fragile fingers. An intense feeling grew inside you. As a secret medicus, you had touched the faces and bodies of many men and women to heal them. However, touching this man's face and lips felt different from the others.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself. This was nonsensical.

You opened his lips carefully and dipped a rag into the fresh water in a copper pot. You pressed it against the General's dry, pale lips, squeezing it gently through his mouth.

After doing this several times, you decided you had done enough. Just as you were about to withdraw your hand, the General's strong hand suddenly grasped yours with a firm grip. You were shocked and winced in pain, causing you to open your hand with pressure, and the rag fell to the ground.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you gazed at his face. He opened those eyes you had been so curious about and looked at you with a cold, calculating stare, squeezing your wrist so tightly that you felt it might break at any moment. You suppressed a scream and moaned in pain. 'Sir, I'm trying to help you!' You sounded as if you were crying, then he groaned in pain, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.The effort must have exhausted him. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he breathed quickly.

When he finally released your wrist, you threw yourself backwards for dear life, rubbed your wrist with your other hand and stroked it, praying to the Gods to take the pain away. You could have sworn to Jupiter that if he had squeezed your wrist any harder, you would have heard a cracking sound coming from your bones.

How could he possibly be so strong even when exhausted, so close to death?

As the pain receded, you took a deep breath and forced yourself to calm down. Your thin wrist was marked in red, like poppies, as if the shadows of his fingers were engraved on your skin.

You glanced timidly over your shoulder; he was still lying there with his eyes closed. But you had just made a terrible mistake—he must have heard your voice and realized you were a woman. Only the gods knew what he would do when he regained consciousness.

You had to leave immediately. Wrapping your wrist in a clean piece of cloth, you tucked the sleeve of your dress into it to hide the bandage. As you stepped out of the tent, your uncle grabbed your arm and pulled you behind it.

“Uncle, the general opened his eyes for a moment and heard my voice. He might remember when he wakes up,” you whispered, hoping no one had overheard you.

 

“Gods have mercy upon us,” he murmured, glancing down. Then he grabbed your shoulders. “It’s time to go. You need to leave now. Follow the path through the woods. Some soldiers are having a disagreement about something; I think they have found out—”

 

“You! Medicus! Come over here!” one of the soldiers shouted at your uncle. He gestured to you with his eyes, silently urging you to go.

 

“You too!” you gasped as you realized that the soldier was waving his hand at you.

 

“Sir, he should stay with the General…” your uncle interjected, stepping in front of you to protect you.

 

“I said come, both of you, now,” the soldier replied, his tone unmistakably commanding.

 

As you took tentative steps towards the group of soldiers forming a circle around your uncle, your heart raced as if it were about to burst. These were the soldiers who had just argued, fought, and you found yourself wondering whether they had been injured, but you could see no visible wounds on anyone.

On the contrary, they gazed at you with curiosity, and only at you.

“That’s nonsense, Dimitrus; this boy can’t be a girl,” said one soldier, pointing at you with a small knife in his hand.

Your uncle stood beside you, his worst fears realized, his face taut with worry. As the soldier, whom you guessed was named Dimitrus, approached, your uncle stepped in front of you. But the soldier easily overpowered him and shoved him aside. With a scrutinizing gaze, the soldier examined your body from head to toe. You bowed your head and clenched your fists, your heart pounding in your chest as your breathing quickened. He yanked down the hood of your cloak with his large hands, drawing the attention of other soldiers who now gathered nearby for a better look.

When he saw your hair tied up at the back of your head, his grin widened. He drew a dagger from its sheath, and as you caught sight of your uncle's worried face behind the soldier's formidable arm, you began to pray to all the gods. 

Dimitrus grasped your bun and quickly cut the hair tie with his dagger, causing your golden-brown wavy hair to cascade over your shoulders. The soldiers laughed and whistled, while Dimitrus looked at them with a cocky smile before turning back to you.

“Such long hair for an aide boy, huh?” he chuckled.

“A girl, indeed,” replied another soldier, looking at you in disbelief.

“I told you I could smell a woman from a mile away,” he laughed, his voice booming.

“Please,” you pleaded, feeling powerless. A wave of despair washed over you.

“What is going on here?” The burly soldier approached, eyes wide with astonishment at your new appearance. Dimitrus grabbed your hair, pulling you closer to him. He then seized your chin and turned your face towards Octavius.

"Look at her! You didn't even notice that the medicus brought a girl with him, Octavius? And you're supposed to be the general's right-hand man!" 

You struggled to move, but he was too strong. 

"Hey, I can’t see her face clearly!"

 

 

You closed your eyes tightly as someone threw wine in your face. Dimitrus roughly wiped your face with his big fingers.

 

“Gods, no ordinary beauty,” he said, looking at you like a hungry wolf. He leaned in closer, inhaling the scent of your hair, making you feel nauseous. You tried to look away, but your eyes met your uncle’s desperate gaze.

 

“That's enough, Dimitrus. Let her go. Is this what you all think while our General lies there, fighting for his life?”

 

You rushed to your uncle's side as his hands released your hair. "He's already dead; I've never seen anyone get up after being poisoned," he says, as if he were looking forward to his death.

 

Octavius unsheathed his sword with a sharp "schwing" sound. "How dare you! Say that again and I'll cut your tongue off!" he barked.

Dimitrus' followers drew their swords as well. Octavius looked at each of them with anger and disbelief. He had been betrayed. "You treacherous filthy rats! I'll kill you one by one!’ He waved his long sword at them.

Dimitrus grabbed your uncle by the collar, 'Start with this one. Who knows what he gave the General instead of medicine?'

 

"Aye, he must be punished!" shouted one of them.

 

"Punish him, Octavius!"

 

They were all yelling at him by raising their swords, you were thinking a way out but there wasn’t any.

 

"If you won't, I shall," Dimitrus pointed the end of his sword at your uncle.

 

"No!" you shrieked, but your uncle stopped you, raising his hand.

Then, as Octavius raised his hand and was about to lunge at him to prevent him, Dimitrus plunged his sword through your uncle's stomach, the poor man groaning in pain and falling to his knees, and as you ran towards him, he drew back his sword, his blood splashing in your face with the force of the draw. Your body began to shake, and you felt paralyzed as you watched his lifeless body collapse to the ground.

"Dimitrus!" Octavius roared, ‘You've gone too far! What do you think our general will do to you when he awakens?’

You fell to your knees in shock, your body rigid and still, your face expressionless, yet tears streaming down your cheeks.

"General? You failed to save him; you let that medicus get into his tent; you must share his fate! I will let the emperors know that this is all your fault! And I think we must put the general out of his misery-"

Out of nowhere, an axe flew at Dimitrus, piercing his chest. His body shook as he reeled back, then collapsed to the ground, lying backwards and dying in a pool of blood. Everyone looked at him in astonishment and panic. Blood gushed from where his chest had been split open, and when he stopped breathing, he lay there as his eyes remained wide open.

They turned their heads to see who had thrown the axe and were shocked once again. The general could hardly stand near his tent, his eyes filled with rage and his gaze burning with fury. Octavius quickly ran to his side.

"General! Thank the Gods you're finally awake!" 

"What's going on here, Octavius?" His voice was like a roar.

“Sir, Dimitrus and others have attempted to mutiny.” 

Acacius shot a deathly glare at the other soldiers, who immediately kneeled with their swords turned upside down. 

“No, sir, we did not.” 

“Forgive me, sir, it was Dimitrus's doing.” 

“Sir, please forgive me.” 

You gently closed your uncle's eyelids with your fingers as they all pleaded for forgiveness. With your back turned to the General, you felt indifferent about your fate; you no longer cared whether you lived or died. It seemed to you that your whole life was already over.

"If any of you ever dare to do anything like this again," he said as he walked near Dimitrus’ body and pulled the axe from his chest roughly; you were startled by the crunching sound coming from his bones.

"I Marcus Justus Acacius, will make sure that he meets the same fate as this scum!"

He put them in their place, and they all nodded in fear. They stood up at his gesture while bowing their heads, unable to look him in the face. 

“Now get ready; we must sail at dawn!” 

“Yes, sir!” 

They quickly sheathed their swords and hurriedly spread out.

Acacius staggered slightly as watched them move, his wound still painful, but he tried hard not to show it. 

Octavius touched his arm. "Sir, the Gods have spared your life, but please rest a little longer." 

"Who is this man?" 

You were certain he was referring to your uncle, even though your back was turned to him. 

"The medicus who cured you, sir. Dimitrus got mad and killed him because he thought he couldn't save you."

"As if we haven't lost enough healers tonight. He was clearly mistaken. This man managed to cure me, and I am standing here because of him." He turned to Octavius. "Make sure this man's body is returned to his family. Inform the governor about this; they should make all the necessary arrangements for the rituals."

Octavius nodded, "Yes, sir, I will." 

They both turned their gaze toward you. "What about this one?" 

Your body was frozen; you felt as if the time for your execution had come. You never expected your last moments to unfold like this. 

"I think this is his aide or slave, sir. Dimitrus discovered she was a woman and that medicus was hiding her," one of them said, bowing his head in shame. You swallowed hard. 

Acacius' pain returned, and he groaned. Octavius gently grabbed his waist. "Sir, please rest. You need to regain your strength." 

"Sir!" Acacius' squire rushed over, placing his arm under Acacius' shoulder. 

It was time for him to turn away from you.

 

"Since her master has died, take this girl to the other slaves. I don't want any more chaos or mishap," he said in a firm voice.

 

You wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand as their footsteps faded away. Two soldiers grabbed your arms and lifted you off the ground while others carried your uncle's body. As you turned your head and glanced over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of the General's curly gray hair and well-shaped nose before he disappeared into his tent.

 

Your body was filled with rage. What you heard only heightened your pain and deepened your hurt. A slave? How could he say that? The one who had healed him was now considered worthy of being a slave?

----

As the mid-morning sun began to reflect off the walls of Rome through the haze that filled the harbor, the city was preparing to experience one of the most significant days in its history. Everyone who noticed the navy ships approaching from afar—citizens, subjects, foreign diplomats, merchants, civil servants, and porters—gathered at the entrance of the city. They were waiting to welcome General Acacius and the victorious Roman soldiers. On the deck of the large ship at the forefront of the fleet, the General sighed deeply as he looked out over his city, thanking Mars for his triumphant and healthy return.

The journey from the port of Alexandria to Rome took ten days, and it was a challenging experience for you, traveling alongside captives known as slaves. Most of these individuals were Greeks and Egyptians, and the joyous shouts echoing through the streets of the Roman capital meant nothing to them. On board the ship, they were repeatedly told that the slave market in Rome was quite prestigious. They were assured that young girls would be well cared for by certain families, urged to stop their tears, and encouraged to pray to Jupiter so that wealthy families would notice them and buy them at high prices.

You were not like those slaves; you were not a prisoner of war, and your family was neither enslaved nor poor. Your uncle was a renowned and esteemed medicus, part of an affluent family. He and his wife found you on the banks of the River Nile when you were three years old—that is what they told you. The gods had not blessed them with a child, so they loved you as if you were their own. You knew he wasn't your biological father or uncle, but you were very happy with your life and didn't ask too many questions until he revealed the letter the night before everything changed.

As an orphan, you were raised by your uncle, who taught you about Egyptian medicine. You assisted him in countless surgeries, helping to bring many people back to life, including the general himself. Through this experience, you gained enough knowledge and skill to become an expert in the field. However, no one would refer to you as a medicus because you were a woman. Your talents were too remarkable to ignore, yet despite sharing your skills with those on the ship, no one believed you. Even if they did, there was little they could do to change the situation.

As you looked through the small cracks between the ship's planks, your gaze drifted over the seemingly endless sea. You couldn’t shake the thoughts of the dream you had the night before.

‘Cure him.’

Wouldn't it have been better if you hadn’t cured him? Perhaps your uncle would still be alive. Maybe you wouldn’t be sitting on this ship now, resigned to your fate, wondering and worrying about what will happen to you. Is this your reward for healing the great Roman general?

That man ruined your life, and you only did yourself a disservice by saving him. Perhaps the gods were testing you, but what was the lesson?

You observed the shadow of the general’s fingers beneath the cloth wrapped around your wrist. The color reminded you of violets bathed in moonlight from days ago. Now, it was an unmistakably bright hue, and the pain had lessened significantly.

As the ship rumbled into port, you realized that it was time to accept your fate. In the dark and damp bilge of the ship, you and a girl close to your age called Decima took turns using the same swing as a bed, you liked each other and in desperation you became confidants, friends. She was in her early twenties and had a lovely charm about her, while you, in your late twenties, had a stunning beauty that really stood out. Her father was a rebel, probably killed by the General's men, and she was taken as captive. You told her almost everything except the letter that you’re hiding in your bag.

As soon as you stepped into the harbor, the discrimination began. The general and his men moved in the opposite direction, while the slave trader standing in front of you ordered you to go elsewhere.

You frowned as you caught sight of his face in the distance, peeking over the shoulders of the crowd. He looked healthy; his body had managed to overcome the venom of the past few days, and his wound had healed. You remembered how you had spent hours with your uncle trying to cure him and how you had struggled to create the antidote while your arms and wrists ached with pain.

Suddenly, the General's face lit up with a warm smile as he waved to his citizens. To your surprise, all your anger momentarily vanished. You turned your head away; looking at him would only cause you pain. He wouldn't recognize you because he couldn't clearly see your face, not just yet. Besides, to him, you were just a slave—nothing more.

However, Octavius recognized you from a distance. He was the only one who had witnessed your hard work. He was an honorable man, he disliked seeing you among the slaves, but he felt powerless, as it was the General's order.

In the evening of that day, after the slaves were taken to the baths and then to the market for sale, you and Decima were brought by the slaver to a separate cell. From outside, the lively sounds of the market could be heard, where slaves were being sold one by one. There was a great deal of interest in these new slaves from Egypt.

The slaver appeared at the door of your cell with a man who looked to be older and wealthy. Decima immediately stood up, but you remained still. The slaver gestured with his hand, turning Decima around in the center of the cell to show off her arms, face, and feet, while squinting at you.

“Look at these strong and beautiful young girls, sir. I wouldn’t show you any poor slaves; they are both virgins and very beautiful. The great Venus has bestowed her beauty upon them. They would fetch a lot of money in the market, but I thought I would show them to you first, sire.” He was being very flattering, but the man's eyes were fixed on you.

“Doesn't she have any manners? Why isn't she standing up?”
“You're right, sir, she must be a bit sick from traveling. She will,” he gestured to you with his hand. “Come on, get up, girl.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, he squeezed your arm hard to warn you first, then did everything what he had done to Decima, opening almost every part of your body for the other man to see. It was incredibly disgusting, you felt like an animal being sold at the cattle market.

"The other one is younger, but this one is beautiful, a rare find," he said, grabbing your arm and looking at you hungrily. "How much do you want for her?"

Your eyes meet with Decima in a silent exchange, as it was time to go your separate ways.

"Eight thousand sesterces, sire."

He pursed his lips in thought, his fingers touching your hair while you closed your eyes, praying for a miracle.

"Ten thousand sesterces!"

A familiar voice of a man echoed through stone walls. You all turned your heads to that direction."General Marcus Acacius offers ten thousand sesterces for this girl!" Octavius appeared, his imposing figure clad in armor that clanked with every step. He tossed a large coin pouch to the slaver, who caught it, a wide smile spreading across his face.

"Sold, of course," he said, counting the coins with a happy expression.

Octavius then firmly grabbed the other man's arm, which was still close to you, lifted it, and pushed it away. He frowned. "This girl now belongs to General Acacius, sir. You must not touch her," he warned firmly.

——

As the general entered the city in his chariot, the people shouted his name. He waved his hand to them, and the streets were filled with a great enthusiasm as everyone gathered to honour the general and his soldiers. The chariot carrying him soon passed under the triumphal arch of Septimius Severus and turned towards the Curia Julia, the Senate building, where the emperors must have been waiting for him. The general's smile faded. He was tired and not looking forward to seeing them, but he would not go to his villa before visiting the emperors.

As General strode purposefully up the marble stairs, Geta and Caracella leapt down from their golden imperial thrones in excitement. As soon as Geta saw him, he opened his arms wide.

‘How can I reward Rome's greatest general?'

'By letting him catch his breath first,' Caracella smiled widely.

Acacius stopped in front of them and nodded, 'Emperors.'

'We have been eagerly awaiting for your arrival, general,' Geta clasped his hands together, looking at him with admiration.

'Speak for yourself, brother. My legs ache from sitting for so long,' Caracella said, then laughed loudly. 'But it was worth it, indeed!'

‘Indeed!’ They both laughed once more, but Caracella looking at his brother a bit strange way.

It was hard to tell if Caracella wanted to embrace Geta or if wanted to take his life right then and there. The relationship between the two of them was quite distorted.

The general rolled his eyes, he was used to these two whiny emperors half of his age bickering at each other all the time, he sighed in frustration at having to put up with them when he could easily take both their lives with a single stroke of his sword. Unfortunately, this unpleasant situation had only just begun.

‘We heard that you were poisoned, how did it feel?’ Geta looked at him with wide eyes and smile.

The news must have reached the emperors before the general had even boarded the ship.

'Painful, your highness,' Acacius stated, a shadow passing over his brown eyes as he remembered the pain again.

'I'm sure it was, it must have been an interesting experience.’ Caracella crossed his arms; smiling just like his brother.

‘Cobra or viper?’

‘Aspis, highness, the viper type.’

‘Oh, I won!’ Geta jumped for joy and gestured to Caracella with his hand, imitating a snake.

Caracella ignored him looking at the General.

‘The rebels must have quite a sense of humour, poisoning a Roman General carrying Medusa on his chest with a snake, quite ironic,’ he touched Medusa on General's armor with his index finger.

Acacius frowned while looking at him, ‘They certainly do, they murdered all our medici mercilessly, fortunately the great Asclepius sent his help, my men brought another medicus from city was able to cure me, it is thanks to him that I can stand here in front of you, highness,’ Acacius remembered the memory when he was unsure whether it was a dream or not but he could not get out of his mind the fingers that touched his lips, the owner of those hazel eyes that came to his aid when his throat was dry from thirst. But it couldn't be medicus he thought, it had to be someone with thin fingers, someone with beautiful eyes he had never seen before. Maybe, since he was too close to death, it was a dream or a goddess has appeared to him, he couldn't be sure.

The first thing he remembers is opening his eyes and grabbing her wrist with his survival instinct. He thought it was a strange looking young man in a hood, maybe another rebel had come to kill him again, but then he heard her voice and thought his goddess had come to heal him. He was in so much pain and seeing hallucinations that he couldn't tell if it was a dream or not. But couldn’t get rid of those thoughts since days.

The emperors didn't seem to care much about the medicis the general was talking about, or how he had recovered, and Acacius seemed bored as they continued to joke with each other.

‘Mother,' Geta ran to her as he noticed the Empress approaching, extends his arm for her.

Julia Domna took his arm as she coming towards Acacius, whispering something into Geta’s ear, without taking her eyes off the General.

‘My lady,’ Acacius nodded to her.

Domna's smile was like Caracella's, you could never guess what she was thinking.

‘General, how good it is to see you return triumphant once more. Rome salutes you, and I embrace you,’ she approached him with open arms and put her hands Acacius’ board shoulders.

Caracella sat back on his throne, a bored look on his face.

‘My Lady, the honour is mine,’ the general said, bowing his head.

‘We shall sacrifice 1000 bulls to honor our triumphant mother!’ Geta clapped his hands excitedly, ‘Let's have a great feast tonight!’

‘Highness, let's give the General some time to rest, he must be tired from the battle,’ Domna removed her hands from the General's shoulders but kept her eyes on him.

Caracella let out a high, shrill laugh that echoed through the white marble columns. Geta sat on his throne and scowled.

‘Acacius, walk with me,’ the Empress turned round, gestured to him.

Acacius sighed, he didn't want to be alone with her, but he had to. Domna walked ahead of him, hands clasped behind her back, he followed her slowly.

‘My sons are glad to see you again, even if they have no idea how fortunate they are to have you serving them.’

'It is my duty to serve Rome.’

She paused and smiled, watching the water in the pool shimmer in the sunlight, the glow reflecting off her bright skin, her expression was difficult to read.

'I think you have a talent for survival.’

She sounded dissatisfied. 'After all, you trained under Maximus, you must have learned a lot from him.’

He looked away, 'I owe where I am today to the remarkable fighting skills he taught me, he was an honourable man, the greatest general Rome has ever seen,' Acacius' eyes were fixed on the great Temple of Venus between the eastern edge of the Forum Romanum and the Colosseum.

Domna looked at him with a feeling between admiration and concern.

‘He, like you, lived to serve Rome, even if he had to kill Commodus,’ she said, and even little children could catch the obvious implication in her voice.

Acacius held his ground, his eyes roaming the curves of the statue of Venus.

‘But unlike him, you are loyal to the emperors, I can be sure of that, can't I?

He turned his head towards her, but did not look at her. His eyes were now on the two spoilt emperors who were talking animatedly to each other between the columns. 'As long as Rome is prosperous for all her subjects, I will be loyal to them, my lady.'

Domna laughed loudly, 'Ah, that's why I want you in the Senate, how long will you refuse?

'I am only a soldier, politics is not my business, nor should it be. Scholars in the Senate -'

‘Those old foxes live in abundance and do nothing, the person who has done Rome the greatest service should be in the Senate.’ Domna glanced over her shoulder at her sons. 'I am concerned that Macrinus has no equal in the Senate and that Caracella dominates him, perhaps if you are in there, you will gain his trust.’

'Your Highness...' He looked at her shaking his head as no.

Domna looked at Acacius, this time with a serious expression on her face, 'For the sake of Rome you must be especially careful with Caracella, as her mother even I find it hard to get my way with him, he is not like Geta, he is a hard-headed child.’

Acacius looked at Caracella whose back was turned, of course he knew this very well, for a moment he thought that he was the real threat to Rome, not the enemy soldiers or the others.

“You should go to your villa and rest. You will have time to think about this alone,” she said with a forced smile before turning to go to her sons.

----

After praying in the temple of Venus, Acacius walked out, and as he descended the steps of the temple, he felt a stinging pain where his wound had been, the poison had completely gone from his body, but it had left its trace behind.

Octavius was lost in thought as he has leaned against the side of the carriage waiting for him, quickly stood up when he noticed him.

‘Sir.’

‘I see you don't miss your home, as you're still here,' Acacius said as he descended the last step. He got into the carriage and climbed in to sit beside him. Acacius was quite tired so he lay down on the seat, the fact that he felt so comfortable with Octavius was because of their long friendship, he was his most trusted man, more than just a friend, like a brother.

'Are you going to tell me what's troubling you?’ Acacius covered his face with his arm, but he could feel the tension in him.

'Sir, the girl.’

'Oh, I see, a girl? Have you fallen in love with a girl?

'No, that's not it,' Octavius felt embarrassed as he remembered your face. 'That poor girl, It doesn't seem fair that she should be with those slaves, sir, you are an honourable man, but your order-'

Acacius lifted his arm from his face and looked at him, the cart swaying as it moved along the stony roads.

'The girl that medicus hid? Why do you care so much for her? Is there something I should know?’

'After all, they worked so hard together to cure you, perhaps you should have at least let her go home.’

‘Together? What do you mean?' Acacius sat up, his eyebrows furrowed.

Octavius bowed his head.

'Sir, I made a mistake, it was my fault for letting them into your tent, I don't know how I could have been so careless even after the assassination, forgive me...'

Acacius raised his hand.

'Slow down, we will talk about your mistake later, you are saying that girl entered my tent and cured me? How?’

'I didn't look closely at her face and I didn't know she was a woman maybe because of her outfit but I made a terrible mistake, I should’ve known, forgive me sir.’ He bowed his head once more but it made Acacius more angry.

'You haven't answered my question, Octavius,' his voice was loud.

'Yes sir, she did her best to cure you, sir, the girl and Medicus worked hard to produce antivenom all night.’

Acacius was surprised when he realized that he hadn't dreamed that night. He was glad to learn that the owner of those eyes was a real person. But then he thought that she might be on the slave market by now, about to be sold to someone else.

‘Stop the carriage!’ He yelled.

The coachman immediately did as he was told and pulled hard on the horses' harnesses, the horses howling and stamping their hooves on the ground.

'Sir?' Octavius raised his eyebrows in surprise.

'Go and find the girl, I want to see her at my villa tonight, do you understand? Acacius tossed him a pouch full of coins.

Octavius smiled, ‘Yes, sir.’

 

 

Chapter 2: The Letter

 

 

"Omnia, quae fiunt, eveniunt ut oportet; et si diligenter observaveris, hoc ita esse invenies." M. Aurelius

“Everything that happens, happens as it should, and if you observe carefully, you will find this to be so.”

 

 

The carriage shook occasionally as it traveled along the stony roads of the capital. Octavius sat across from you, glancing at you from the corner of his eye while you peered out from under the curtain, eager to see where you were being taken. You had many questions, but you hesitated to ask him directly. In their eyes, you were merely an ordinary woman considered a slave.

As you looked outside, you realized that you were more fortunate than other women in similar situations. Instead of being transported in a carriage like you, they were dragged, beaten, and forcibly taken away in chains.

As the carriage approached the magnificent, rounded building, you couldn't help but gasp in awe at its grandeur. It had to be the Colosseum; you had heard so much about it, but you never expected it to be this enormous. This massive structure was so impressive that it truly pushed the limits of the human imagination. It was fascinating, intimidating, and astonishing.

You stared in wonder at the most intriguing landmark on the streets of Rome until it finally disappeared from view. With a sigh, you turned your gaze in the direction the carriage was heading. After passing insulas, temples, aqueducts, fountains, and gardens, you drove through a large wooded area. The carriage began to sway noticeably as the terrain shifted from stones to dirt and grass. Eventually, a large villa came into view before you.

Unlike the sand-colored villas found in Egypt, this one was nearly white, with a roof the color of crimson herbs. Tall white columns framed the garden entrance, each adorned with intricate figures and reliefs. The beauty of the scene was extraordinary. As you gazed around, it surprised you to see that Octavius had already exited the cart and was waiting for you.

"My lady," he said, extending his hand toward you.

You lifted the hem of your cloak and carefully stepped down from the carriage.

"I am not a lady, sir," you replied, gripping the handle of your bag tightly instead of accepting his hand.

Octavius withdrew his hand and looked at you in confusion.

"I know I didn't want to call you a slave; you are so much more."

On the surface, this burly man had a stern demeanor that commanded respect, but underneath, he was genuinely kind.

"That's all right, sir. I appreciate your kindness. May I ask you something, if I don't overstep my bounds?"

He nodded.

"Why am I here? Why did the General purchased me?"

It was obvious he hadn't cared about you for ten days. Why did he suddenly remember you and bring you to his villa, you wondered.

"Ask him when he arrives. I was only supposed to bring you here. I must leave now, as I have completed my mission."

"Sir Octavius!"

A middle-aged, chubby woman ran up to you, and the way she looked at you made it clear that she knew Octavius very well. She seemed about to ask him something but then turned her head and looked you up and down, her eyes wide with astonishment.

“A slave? Or did the emperors send her as a gift to our master again?”

You took a step back, panic rising in your chest, and turned to Octavius. A gift? What did she mean by that, you wondered.

“No, they didn't send her. The general purchased her from the slaver,” Octavius stated firmly as he strode toward the carriage. “Show her to her room and make her comfortable. I have to go now.”

“Yes, sir,” she responded, then turned her gaze back to you.

But you were staring at the carriage as it sped away, feeling abandoned by his departure.

“Hurry up, girl, come inside with me. The general is almost here, and you need to dress properly,” she commanded, beckoning with her hand.

You complied, passing between the imposing columns and entering the garden, where a large pool with sparkling water awaited you at its center. The villa featured a spacious courtyard and multiple gardens. In the middle of the square pool stood a statue of Neptune, holding a spear in his hand.

Vines curled around the tall white columns, and short trees accompanied them. In front, there was a fountain made of white marble. As you walked behind the woman, you listened to the soothing sound of water flowing from the fountain. It seemed peaceful, yet that was not how you felt inside.

When you entered a small room, the woman called over another girl. Inside were two wooden closets and a large wooden chest. A young girl with red hair came running to you. The other woman grabbed your arm and examined your clothes, her face twisting in disgust.

“Dress this girl quickly; she must be ready before the master arrives.” She touched your hair and ran her fingers through it as if she were combing it. “She looks like she’s had a bath, but her clothes look terrible. Get rid of them when you’re done,” she commanded, clearly in charge due to her age.

The girl opened the closet door and took out a white silk and tulle fabric. You set your bag aside but felt uncomfortable; after all, there was something very important in it.

“Are you nervous?” the girl asked curiously when the other woman left.

“A little, but about what?”

“About spending the night with the General,” she replied, lowering her voice.

You looked at her in shock. “I’m certainly not here for that,” you said, your voice trembling with anger.

The girl let out a small sigh as she helped you get undressed. You felt uneasy, but her kindness and gentleness put you at ease. “He won't touch you anyway,” she said, opening the closet and pulling a piece of fabric into her arms. “He’s never touched any of the girls the emperors have sent to him. They’ve all been sent back the next day."

"Why is that?" Your voice echoed in the small room as you wondered why a man would refuse such an encounter.

The girl laughed at your reaction, and you smiled back shyly. She stood in front of you, draping the wool dress over your shoulders, letting it fall over your breasts, and tying it at the waist. Your arms and neckline were bare, and you instinctively covered your wrists with your hands, but it was clear she didn’t care about the bruise. “Nobody's sure, but we think it might be because of his wife, whom he divorced a long time ago. He’s a noble and decent man. I’m sure he’ll treat you well, just like he treats all of us.”

"He bought me, not emperors," you stated assertively, tugging at the belt around your waist to feel more comfortable.

"Did he? That's even stranger. He hasn't purchased any new slaves for a long time." The girl touched your hair, running her fingers through it and gathering a strand on the right side before securing it with a thin hairpin. "But perhaps it's because you are so beautiful," she said, smiling warmly at you. "Where are you from?"

"I grew up in Alexandria, but as far as I know, I am Roman—an orphan," you replied confidently. "You don't look like a Roman, though."

The girl smiled, but her eyes revealed a hint of sadness. "I was taken as a captive during the war when I was fourteen, but I tried to escape, and the slaver nearly beat me to death." She took a deep breath and continued, “I would have died on those cold cobblestones if he hadn’t been kind enough to buy me and let me live in his villa here.”

You suddenly realized that your story didn't seem as grim compared to hers. You felt a wave of sympathy for her.

"I am sorry," you said sincerely.

She had a warm smile and kind brown eyes. Her hair was a mix of red and orange, and she had freckles on her face. She was friendly and one of the nicest people you would meet in a long time. She touched your shoulder with a comforting smile.

"The General isn't as harsh and ruthless as he seems. If he brought you here, he must like you. You're lucky."

"But he's never met me," you murmured. There was no circumstance in which he could have liked you. In fact, he almost broke your wrist because he thought you were the enemy.

That's why you were worried. You wanted to believe he was a good man, but your instincts told you otherwise.

"I'm Norell, by the way," she said, still smiling.

"I've never heard that name before," you replied, raising your eyebrows.

"It means 'from the north.' I'm from Scandinavia. Do you have a name?"

You wanted to tell her the name that your uncle and his wife had given you, but the woman from earlier came over and scolded you both for stalling. When she tried to take your bag, you held on tightly and kept it in your arms.

She frowned at you and pointed to the bag. "It looks old and dirty. Put it where you’ll be staying, out of my sight. Norell, show her where she’ll be staying. I have to check the kitchen.”

"Yes, Tullia," Norell replied as she led you out of the room. As you walked into another room, you touched your new clothes. These garments were ordinary attire for any slave, but for you, they felt unusual. You had always worn men's clothes when you were with your uncle and had never let your hair hang over your shoulders outside the house. That's why you almost liked dressing this way, despite feeling exposed with your neck and shoulders bare.

"This way," Norell said, pointing to a room that was slightly larger than the last one. Inside, there were two mattresses, a large wooden chest, and a small closet in the corner. She gestured towards one of the mattresses against the wall.

"You can sleep here."

Although it wasn't the most comfortable option, it was still far better than the beds in the Valetudinarium. You sat down and placed your bag under the blanket while she observed you with curiosity.

"It's what remains of my family," you explained.

"Don't worry, I would never touch your things," she assured you. You trusted her, even though you had just met. However, you had promised your uncle about the letter, so you carefully tucked it under the mattress when she left the room. You were eager to open it, but you wanted to ensure that you were completely alone first.

As you sat there, you began to realize how tired you were. You weren't sure if it was the effect of traveling by ship, but your head felt as if it was spinning. Your body felt on the verge of collapsing when you noticed a cat outside the window.

Having grown up in Egypt, you had a cat in your old house that looked just like this one. She was dark black with beautiful green eyes. You called her over with your hand, but she dashed ahead towards another garden in the courtyard, so you excitedly ran after her.

As you followed her at a brisk pace, you realized you couldn't fit through the gap she could, but fortunately, the wooden gate to the separate garden was open. It was a beautiful garden filled with various herbs, plants, and flowers. You distinctly remember using the hypericum (St. John's wort) plant with your uncle on many occasions. This medicinal plant has healing properties.

You sat on the grass and picked a bunch of hypericum. Crushing the leaves with your fingertips, you rubbed the liquid that came out onto the bruises on your wrist. As you did this, the cat brushed her tail against your feet. You picked her up, settled her on your lap, and began stroking her head, feeling her soft fur beneath your fingers, which brought you a sense of peace. However, you were exhausted and could not keep your eyes open, so you lay down and closed them.

----

As the general arrived at his villa, the sun was getting ready to bid farewell to the capital of Rome. He had barely taken a seat after stepping ashore. Yes, he was tired, but he also felt an indescribable excitement. He struggled to recall when he had felt this way for such a long time, but the memory eluded him. He had been traveling for months, heading to Egypt to quell a rebellion. Although he had finally succeeded, the journey had drained him. To make matters worse, he had been assassinated and wounded on his way back, and one of his soldiers had mutinied while he was recovering—challenges that would overwhelm an ordinary man. He touched his wound through his leather armor and felt grateful to the one who had healed him. Despite his exhaustion, he was determined to meet this girl.

Tullia greeted him with a bright smile as she stepped toward him. “Sir! You’re home at last! I sacrificed three pigs to Mars to ensure your safe return!”

Acacius smiled back at her and stepped out of the carriage, his eyes fixed on the garden of his villa. “Tullia, the girl Octavius brought here today—I want to see her now.” His voice was firm and impatient.

“Yes, master, she is inside. Come in,” Tullia replied.

Acacius strode into the garden, leaving his squire struggling to keep up. He looked around but couldn't find what he was searching for. “I don’t see her, Tullia. Where is she?”

Tullia swallowed hard. “Master, she was here. I’ll find her,” she said as she started to leave, but Acacius stopped her by raising his hand.

“Send her to my room and prepare my bath at once,” he ordered, heading for the stairs that led to his chambers.

Everyone mobilized to find you at once and prepare their master's bath.

Acacius's squire entered his room after him and helped him remove his armor. Once he was finished, the squire left. Acacius took off his armbands and took a deep breath, now wearing only his burgundy tunic. He felt relieved but still impatient, so he decided to step out onto the balcony to take in the scenery. As he gazed at the beautiful city in the distance, he thought about you and smiled to himself, recalling his first experience of falling in love. He had believed he would never feel that way again, especially since he had turned his back on love. Acacius was convinced that Cupid, the son of Venus, would never grant him a new love. For so long, he had regarded himself as an unlucky lover, seemingly punished by Mars, the god of war. Mars had gifted him with the ability to fight, and he wondered if that was because love could be his weakness.

He was about to find out.

Just as he was about to walk back inside, something in the garden below caught his attention. He saw a young girl with golden hair lying on the lush green grass in the garden that bordered his chambers.

Acacius made his way down the stairs, his heart racing with excitement and curiosity. As he reached the last step and drew closer to you, he felt a twinge of disappointment to see your eyes closed. He was eager to see the eyes he had admired in his tent long ago. Leaning in, he gazed at the beautiful girl who was sleeping peacefully, just as you had been waiting for him then.

He looked at your wrist, gently grasped it, and noticed the bruises. His fingers traced the purple spots, as if they were meant to fit perfectly there.

You felt pressure on your wrist where the bruise was located. You opened your eyes—not because of the pain, but because you had already been dreaming about that moment. When you realized that his face was only a few inches from yours, you widened your eyes in surprise, wondering if you were still dreaming. His dark brown eyes seemed to capture yours, making it impossible to look away. Then, his perfectly shaped lips curled into a wide smile.

"So it was you," he said softly.

You were left speechless. As you tried to rise to your feet, he gently grasped your shoulders, maintaining eye contact with you.

"I made a mistake. I apologize," you mumbled.

"A mistake? You healed me, so there's no mistake and certainly no reason to apologize," he replied with a smirk. He stood up and held out his hand. Despite your initial hesitation, you took his hand and got to your feet.

"I shouldn’t have slept here like this," you admitted, feeling embarrassed as you shook out your dress to remove the leaves and dirt.

“It was such a treat to watch,” he said, noticing your surprised expression. He turned and began walking toward the stairs. "Come," he beckoned, not asking but commanding.

You followed him without complaint, though your tension had increased. Acacius entered his room and waited for you to come in. As you stepped in from the balcony, you noticed the armor he had just taken off to your right. Beyond that was a desk and a chair, followed by a small table with two chairs. In the opposite corner, there was a large bed and a closet.

Tullia entered with a tray full of food, knocking on the door first. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw you.

"I've been looking for you everywhere. Where were you?" she asked.

Before you could respond, Acacius ordered, "Leave us alone and let me know when the bath is ready."

"Yes, general," she replied, casting you a quick glance before leaving the room.

"Are you hungry?" he asked while pouring wine into a cup.

You shook your head no, but it was a lie; your eyes were fixed on the food, and you swallowed hard. He smirked, sat down in a chair, and took a sip of wine. "Sit," he said, indicating the chair opposite him with a gesture.

When you didn't move, he frowned. "I know you're hungry. Come, sit," he commanded.

You made your way over and took a seat directly across from him, consciously steering clear of his gaze.

"Eat," he commanded again, pointing to the spoon.

You took a spoonful of food you had never seen before, but it looked delicious. As soon as you put it in your mouth and swallowed, you felt it settle in your empty stomach. Realizing how hungry you were, you quickly took another bite, surprised by your own eagerness.

He watched you closely, his gaze lingering on your hands. With a swift movement, he gently grabbed your other hand and placed it in his palm, as if measuring its size. "These fingers are too thin to be a healer," he muttered, looking at you. "How did you become a medicus? It must have been tough for you as a woman."

As you swallowed the morsel, he poured another glass of wine and handed it to you. You were taken aback by his unexpected politeness but accepted the cup and took a quick sip.

"My uncle taught me everything I know, sir," you asserted firmly.

"That man, the medicus, was your uncle?" he inquired.

"Yes, he was," you replied, feeling a renewed sting at the mention of him. He studied your face, trying to decipher your emotions.

"May the Gods bless his soul and grant him sustenance in Elysium. Though I never met him, his knowledge is the reason I am still alive today. I will be grateful to him until my last breath."

"You're not his slave, then. Who are you?" he asked, meeting your gaze with unwavering intensity and waiting for your response.

"I am Aya, an orphan girl who was found on the banks of the Nile when I was little. I was raised by the man I call 'uncle,'" you stated confidently, though he appeared perplexed.

Acacius leaned back, still focused on you. "Aya," he murmured, testing the name on his lips. "It's a name I have never heard. I want to know its meaning." He crossed his arms and smiled.

"This name was given to me by my uncle and his late wife. It means 'miracle,' signifying that they believed I was sent to them by the gods." You met his gaze directly, asserting your thoughts. "I think it’s—"

"It's beautiful," he interjected, completing your sentence in his own way. You took another sip from your cup, steady in your confidence, though you felt the weight of his gaze.

“You mentioned that you are an orphan? You don’t know anything about your mother or father? Has your uncle discovered why they left you in the river?”

You shook your head, genuinely unsure, but he didn’t seem satisfied with that response. He set his cup down on the table, stood up, and stepped closer to you.

“Your uncle, or the man who found you, raised you as a medicus until this age. You probably had to wear men’s clothing all the time. He allowed you to live as a man, not as a woman. Moreover, he never wanted you to marry a man.” You noticed he emphasized the word "marry" with a distinct tone. It felt as if he were questioning you, which startled you as he knelt beside you. “It’s as if he’s hiding you from something or someone.”

He was waiting for your answer, but his face was so close that it made you tense up. You needed a moment before responding.

"I was happy helping others and curing them as a medicus, sir. He never forced me to do anything I didn’t want to," you said with confidence and sincerity, and he could hear it in your tone.

He stood up abruptly. “I see,” he murmured, still deep in thought. Just then, there was a knock at the door. The slaves informed him that his bath was ready.

"I want you to accompany me," he said suddenly, a smile spreading across his face that made your heart race. You were trying to figure out the best way to decline his offer gently and respectfully.

"Sir, I—"

“Since I’m so tired, I would like your help to bathe. As my medicus, you should also check my wound, right?”

"That makes me your medicus as well as your servant," you replied, frowning at him.

He approached you with a bold move that made you jump, but a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. "I'm going to have to get completely undressed for both, so…"

Your cheeks flushed, and you tried to look away, but you knew he was right—and you hated it.

He opened the door and gestured for you to follow him, you took a deep breath before going after him. Norell smiled when she noticed you, but you couldn't smile back, following him to the bathhouse made you nervous.

As you moved from one courtyard to the inner one, the distinctive smells indicated that the kitchen was nearby. It’s because of the hot water circulation, just opposite the kitchen was the balneum (small bath house). There was no separate bath house in your uncle's small house, so you had to go to the Egyptian public bath house three or four times a week to bathe.

Tullia pushed the door open for both of you to enter. Acacius instructed her to leave you two alone and then closed the door behind you. The hot bath was ready, and the balneum was filled with the scents of various oils and essences, which dissipated into the steam rising from the water. As someone well-versed in herbs, you could easily identify the scents of different flowers by their aromas.

When you saw Acacius heading toward the marble bathtub, you clenched the fabric of your dress. It was scorching hot inside, and you were sweating profusely. He turned to you, and from the look in his eyes, you knew he was asking you to approach him. You obeyed, trying your best not to think about anything else but his wound. He took your fingers and guided them to the hem of his burgundy tunic, urging you to grasp it. He watched you patiently as you attempted to stay calm, lifting the hem of his tunic to inspect his injury. He seemed to take pleasure in noticing your tension.

“I need to take it off completely. Can you help me?" he asked in a soft, gentle voice.

You took a deep breath and removed his tunic with trembling hands, letting it drop to the wet floor, trying to ignore the fact that he was completely naked in front of you. You focused on his abdomen where his wound was, determined not to look down at his lower body. As your fingers traced his abdomen to assess the injury, his eyes roamed over your face, admiring your beauty.

“It is almost healed on the surface, sir, but it may take a little longer to fully heal from the inside. If you experience any pain or inflammation, I might need to prepare a herbal ointment,” you said, your gaze locking with his.

He leaned in closer, his face just inches away from yours, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his slightly parted lips. The air between you was thick and steamy, mingling with the sheen of sweat that clung to your skin and made your dress feel slightly damp against your body. His warm breath fluttered against your neck, sending shivers down your spine and causing your heart to race uncontrollably. Every nerve in your body seemed to awaken, and for a fleeting moment, you felt the strong pull to surrender to the magnetic connection between you. But as the intensity of the moment heightened, you managed to summon the strength to pull yourself back, collecting your thoughts and reminding yourself of the boundaries you still needed to maintain.

Acacius chuckled, turned toward the tub, and settled in. The water rose with his weight, and the flowers floating on the surface brushed against the edge. He seemed to relax, throwing his head back and closing his eyes while making a gesture with his hand.

“Could you rub my back a little? Perhaps your soft, healing hands can alleviate some of the pain,” he requested.

"That sounds more like the work of a slave than a medicus," you muttered. He ignored your comment, but you could see his lips curl into a half-smile.

As you touched his shoulders with your fingers, he sighed. You tried not to care, but he seemed strangely pleased, a soft moan escaping his lips as you rubbed in gentle strokes. Your eyes traced the scars on his body, wondering how he got them.

“The god Asclepius must have bestowed his healing powers upon you," he purred. "How can I repay the owner of these fingers that healed me?”

You stopped rubbing his back and glared at him through his partially gray, curly hair.

“I wish you would set me free," you said, biting your lower lip, wondering if that was too much to ask.

Acacius opened his eyes. "You have no family to return to. Do you truly wish to go back home and live all alone?"

He was right. Even if you went back, there would be no uncle or anyone else to live with. You despised facing that truth. He turned his head towards you, asking, "Shall I give you a chance to choose?"

You tilted your head to look at him, the steamy air making your throat dry.

“If you don't want to be my slave, why not live here as my medicus? I am a soldier, after all; I may need your help in the future.” As he turned his body fully towards you in the tub, some of the water spilled over and soaked the hem of your dress. “Wouldn't you stay here to help me heal?”

“But I am a woman, sir; I cannot be a medicus. No one would refer to me as such.”

“As long as you’re living here, that’s how you will be addressed,” he said, his tone warm and convincing.

"But will I still be your slave outside of this house?"

“You will, yes.”

“Will you set me free one day?”

“No,” he replied loudly, his voice echoing off the damp stone walls.

When you sighed and pursed your lips, his large hand cupped your chin, his brown eyes almost begging you to stay. Slowly, he slid his fingers from your neck to your shoulder, moving towards the fabric of your dress as he tried to gauge your reaction. You grabbed his hand and stopped him just as he was about to pull the fabric over your shoulder. "I choose to be your medicus, not your slave, sir," you declared.

“Very well,” Acacius snickered, now grabbing your wrist instead. “It seems to be healing,” he said, gently rubbing your bruise with his thumb. Surprisingly, you didn’t feel angry; you liked the way his big, strong fingers touched you, as if only they could truly heal it.

“I won't touch you against your will,” he assured you, then pulled his hand away and lay back, closing his eyes again. “You may leave now,” he said coldly, as if trying to calm himself.

You felt grateful, yet you couldn't ignore the absence of his touch on your skin. Nevertheless, you did as he asked, leaving him alone in the balneum as you stepped outside. The fresh air hit your almost wet body, making you shiver, just as Norell approached you with dry, clean clothes in her arms.

“Is he coming out?” she asked.

“No, he told me to leave him alone,” you replied, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand while ignoring your still-racing heart.

-----

That night, in your new room under the roof of your new home, you waited patiently for Norell to fall asleep after having a long talk with her. However, your eyes grew so heavy that you could no longer keep them open.

You had planned to open the letter when you woke up, but time slipped away from you. It wasn't easy feeling alone in such a large villa.

That morning, you noticed the General leaving in a rush, making his chambers the ideal place to be. No one would be able to enter his room while he was away, and this was your only chance. You knew he wouldn't return until late evening, giving you plenty of time to open the letter before then.

Uncertainty filled your mind as you considered what to expect. Could your true family be wealthy or even royal? If so, why had they pushed you away or abandoned you? What did the previous emperor's seal mean? Why did he use his own seal on this letter? Was it common for him to do so with every letter? So many possibilities and questions raced through your mind, yet you were tired of thinking. You made up your mind to open the letter as soon as possible, discover the truth, and move on.

In the villa, everyone was busy with their morning chores, making it easy for you to slip away unnoticed. You were already on a mission to collect dirty laundry and bring it downstairs to wash, providing you with a believable excuse if anyone caught you.

You entered the General's room, quickly scanned your surroundings, and placed the dirty laundry you had gathered into the laundry basket you were holding. Setting the basket aside, you sat down on the floor next to it. Once you were certain that no one was coming, you pulled out the letter you had hidden between your chest and the fabric of your dress and began to read.

You took a deep breath and carefully untied the rope around the letter, ensuring the seal remained mostly intact. Then, you lifted the letter, which belonged to the previous emperor, Septimius Severus, and opened it. The writing inside was neatly penned in clear handwriting.

"My dearest child,

I write to you, my beloved daughter, bestowed with golden hair and hazel eyes. The irises of your eyes exhibit a soft brown hue with a greenish tint, evoking the nascent growth of spring.

As I gaze into your eyes, I envision the beautiful and prosperous future that awaits Rome. You provide me with joy and fortitude, empowering me to realize this vision. It is my sincere aspiration to ensure your happiness and to witness your growth and prosperity.

It has been a considerable amount of time since I lost your mother, my esteemed wife, the illustrious Paccia Marciana. I have not yet fully adapted to her absence; however, I felt it essential to remarry in order to secure an heir. I do not wish to offend you, my dear daughter, and I implore you not to misinterpret my intentions. Regrettably, I believe it may not be prudent for you to remain in Rome. Julia lacks the understanding that your mother possessed, and my son Caracalla exhibits even less compassion. His temperament is concerning, and I fear that upon my ascension to Elysium, he may perceive you as a threat and inflict harm upon you.

I cannot allow any harm to come to you in memory of your mother, hence I must send you away from them and from this environment. I have made arrangements for your care with my old friend Vibius, the physician from my youth, who resides in Egypt. I am confident that you will be safe under his stewardship. It is imperative for your well-being to be as far away from here as possible.

I earnestly hope that Caracalla will govern Rome with wisdom. Although I harbor uncertainties regarding his capability, I sincerely wish to believe in his potential.

I trust that when you read this letter as a young woman, you will comprehend the reasoning behind my decision to send you away. You are my firstborn child, my only daughter with spring-like eyes and golden hair, the first of the name Septimia Aurelia, who brought blessings to Rome upon your birth. You will always hold a special place in my heart, dear child.

Your father,
Imperator Caesar Lucius Septimius Severus Pertinax Augustus."

You read each sentence again and again, making sure you hadn’t misread anything. But no, you had absorbed every word correctly. Closing your eyes and throwing your head back, you realized it was real, not just a figment of your imagination. You sat there, detached from time and reality, as tears rolled down your cheeks and dripped onto the letter you held with trembling hands. Your life began to flash before your eyes, piece by piece: the lush green fields where you used to run joyfully as a little girl, and the people you called uncle and aunt who raised you with love, always protecting you from the outside world, keeping you away from others. Your uncle had taken you on as an apprentice when you were very young, teaching you everything he knew, buying you flashy clothes on the condition that you only wore them at home when you wanted to, and insisting that you always wear a cloak when you went out in public. All these memories completed the picture of your past and reminded you of where you truly belonged.

You wished you had never opened the letter, never anticipating that the truth would hurt so deeply and leave you feeling so helpless. You had no home to return to; your Empress mother and Emperor father were no longer alive. In their place were your Emperor brothers and their mother—your stepmother. Your father had warned you about them in no uncertain terms.

The word "Emperor" now held a new meaning for you. Everything you knew, everything you learned, and everything you experienced felt different now. Yet you were still the same person. It was unreasonable to expect you to be anyone else, regardless of what your name was.

As you wiped away your tears, you heard voices outside and quickly folded the letter back into its original shape. You didn’t have time to hide it. Your first instinct was to place it in the general's wooden chest, which was already full of papyrus, empty envelopes, and various papers. You planned to retrieve it later.

“What are you doing here?”

You were taken aback by the sound of the General's voice. He stood in the doorway, looking at you curiously. He wore an all-white attire, white leather armor, and a white shawl that fluttered like dove wings in the wind behind him, all embroidered with gold. At that moment, you forgot your shock; he looked breathtaking. Suddenly, you realized you hadn't answered his question, so you quickly picked up the laundry basket.

“I’m here to pick up the laundry, sir,” you replied, bowing your head in hopes that he wouldn’t be suspicious.

“I thought you chose to be a medicus and not a slave,” he said as he approached you. “Let the others do it, come with me now.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the room with a serious look on his face, hurried down the stairs, and stopped to call Norell out as he observed your clothes. "Dress her properly," he ordered.

While you were trying to figure out what was happening, Norell took your hand and led you to the dressing room to fulfill his request. She opened the wardrobe, removed several white fabrics, and placed them on a chair in the room. Curiosity got the better of you, and you couldn’t help but ask about the clothes, which were different from those you wore last time.

“Why am I wearing these?” you inquired.

“Today’s a bit special." You were startled to hear the General's voice just outside the door. “And the color of the dress you’re wearing has to match mine,” he added.

You thought to yourself, how could you possibly match his charm? It just didn’t seem possible.

You didn’t mind being naked in front of Norell, but the fact that the General was just outside the door made you feel a bit nervous. Norell sensed your unease and giggled, then helped you into a white tunic followed by a peplos (a long dress) of the same color, and finally draped a gold-embroidered palla over your shoulders. She tied it around your slim waist and positioned the other part over your head. It was your first time wearing this kind of dress, and you felt as if the wish you had made as a little girl had finally come true.

Norell then combed your hair, first letting it fall downwards slightly side-parted, and then combing it again before braiding it. She took a piece from the front left and twisted it around the back of your head. To secure the twist inside the braid, she inserted a wire barrette and finished the braid, letting it hang over one shoulder. When she was done, she looked at you and smiled. “You look beautiful. Now all that’s left are the accessories.”

The General opened the door and looked you up and down before gently grabbing your arm. He gestured to Norell, who soon returned with a box containing a gold bracelet and assorted jewelry that produced a tinkling sound as she moved.

“Sir, these don’t look like something a slave would wear,” you said, surprised.

Acacius quickly placed the bracelets on your upper arms and wrists. “My slave wears whatever I want,” he replied firmly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment while a confident smile crossed his face. You felt your cheeks flush, but the term "slave" bothered you more than ever. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to be angry with the General, especially not when he was dressed like this.

“But where exactly are we going?” you asked.

“To the place where the ceremony will take place, then to the Colosseum. Come now, put on your sandals; we have to hurry.”

Norell appeared beside you and lifted your foot, helping you put on the sandals despite your reluctance. “Looks pretty,” he said, gently brushing back a few strands of hair that had fallen on your forehead. You couldn't tell if he was in a hurry or just impatient, but he wrapped his arm around you and quickly led you out of the courtyard.

---

“I saw you leaving this morning,” you said as Acacius adjusted the shawl he was sitting on to feel more comfortable. He cleared his throat. “That’s right,” he replied, looking at you. “I didn't want you to miss a day like this, so I came back for you.” How could he be such a charming, gentle, yet dangerous fighter? You wondered how all your anger and resentment toward him had dissipated so quickly.

“I'm grateful, sir,” you said sincerely, and he smiled in response.

As the carriage navigated the alleys of Capitoline Hill, you noticed the streets were as crowded as they had been yesterday. It seemed as if no one had returned home to rest for the night. When the carriage approached Via Sacra Street, you realized you were mistaken; it was even busier than the day before. In Egypt, such crowds gathered only during special occasions or religious festivals. However, you were unaccustomed to being in a crowd, walking freely in the streets, especially while dressed as a woman.

Despite having resolved the questions that had troubled you since childhood, you still felt unfulfilled. It wasn't that you held resentment toward anyone—your father and uncle had done their best to help you—but you couldn't shake the feeling of being wronged. Somewhere deep within, a voice kept telling you that something was amiss, and it grew louder with each passing moment. Your uncle's words echoed in your mind: “You’re going to have to choose.”

But what were you going to choose? Would you go to your emperor brothers, explain everything, seek their official recognition, and risk being killed as a result? Or would you return to Egypt as if nothing had happened and live as you always had, far away from everyone and everything?

“What makes you think so much? I wonder,” the general said, interrupting your thoughts. In an instant, all your worries vanished like a cloud of dust. You almost forgot that you were in the carriage with him, sitting opposite you like a statue of a god.

“I'm a little nervous, sir,” you admitted honestly.

“Are you nervous about seeing the Colosseum for the first time?” he asked.

He was right; that was one reason for your anxiety. However, the true source of your nervousness was the anticipation of seeing your half-brothers in person.

“Yes,” you said, clenching the fabric of your dress.

“We'll arrive after the ceremony. I would love to have you with me, but the slaves and others will be watching from the stands above. I could ask the emperors for special permission for you to stand beside me, but I’m concerned that your beauty will inevitably attract their attention.” There wasn’t the slightest hint of humor in his voice. This would have worked in your favor if you hadn't been feeling uneasy about facing your stepbrothers.

“Sir, it's really not a problem. I'll watch from where I'm supposed to be,” you replied with a half-smile.

“The more I can keep you away from them, the better,” he murmured softly, peering out from behind the curtain. “Here we are.”

When the carriage stopped, the crowd's enthusiasm swelled. Acacius stood up, his expression serious, and reached for your hand, clasping it tightly.

“It is no longer possible for me to hold your hand and walk side by side. You can follow me at a distance.” He gently stroked your fingers with his thumb before withdrawing his hand and stepping out of the carriage.

You watched as he exited, his shawl billowing in the wind behind him, trailing gracefully to the steps of the carriage.

“Sir!” Octavius ran toward him through the crowd, cheerful. You observed the two of them from behind, their backs turned as they engaged in conversation while the crowd chanted the General's name. Then they both turned their heads back toward you; Acacius nodded for you to come out. No one was looking at you anyway; all the attention was on him. You took a deep breath and climbed down from the carriage.

Acacius and Octavius made sure you got out and then began walking forward. As you walked behind them, keeping a respectful distance, you could hear the crowd talking and chanting. You couldn't help but wonder if, one day, if something happened and you sat on the throne as the emperor's daughter, would they cheer for you like that? You shook your head, trying to dismiss the absurd thought.

Acacius and Octavius were joined by other soldiers, and it was evident from the crowd that people from various social classes were present. Among them were the wealthy, nobles, dignitaries, craftsmen, and even slaves. As you surveyed the scene, you realized that your clothing felt strange; it was almost devoid of jewelry and appeared quite ordinary. However, unlike in Egypt, slaves here could accompany their masters or enter the Colosseum.

The crowd also included women of nobility, who regarded you with piercing gazes. At first, you were perplexed by their scrutiny, but as you examined them more closely, you recognized the underlying emotion: jealousy. In Egypt, you had been overlooked, merely seen as a thin young boy in an unusual cloak. But here in Rome, you were a beautifully dressed young girl, the envy of even the noblewomen. Life should be filled with miracles and surprises.

The Roman triumph was a civil ceremony and religious rite of ancient Rome, held to publicly celebrate and sanctify the success of a military commander who had led Roman forces to victory in the service of the state or, in some historical traditions, one who had successfully completed a foreign war.

The venue for the ceremony was the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, one of the most important temples in the capital. Most Roman festivals were calendar fixtures, tied to the worship of particular deities. While the triumphal procession culminated at Jupiter's temple on the far end of the Via Sacra (sacred road) in the Roman Forum, the procession itself, attendant feasting, and public games promoted the general's status and achievement. In effect, the general was close to being "king for a day", and possibly close to divinity.

Accompanied by red rose petals thrown in his honor, the General ascended the white marble stairs of the temple with quick steps, shining like pearls in the sunlight. At that moment, you immediately recognized them—it was hard not to—your half-brothers, the emperors, approaching the General. They were dressed in white and gold, just like him. From their appearance, it was easy to tell which one was Geta and which was Caracalla.

The General greeted them with a hand placed on his chest, and Geta gently placed a golden crown of laurel leaves on his head. As the crowd shouted and cheered with enthusiasm, you suddenly felt a deep pain in your chest. You deserved to be with them; you wanted to be with them—it was your birthright. But your father, the emperor, had taken you away. Was it because you were not a boy? He had asked you not to blame him and not to be angry, but you couldn't help it. Watching them from a distance made you realize that you would have to choose—if not now, then someday.

Caracalla raised his hands towards the people and spoke, and you wondered if your father's warning about him had been correct. His hair was the same color as yours, but his face was different. His eyes were wide with excitement and eagerness. He didn’t seem so bad at first; after all, it felt wrong to judge a person at first glance.

You soon noticed some tension between him and the priest next to him. Geta raised his hand to silence the priest, which was rude and disrespectful. Clearly, your half-brother was not a man of religious tradition.

“Now that our ceremony is finally over, are we ready to watch the big games in honor of our glorious General Acacius?”

The whole crowd let out a roar of excitement, and it was clear that everyone was just as pumped as he was.

“Then let's head to the Colosseum!” he shouted, pointing in the direction of the iconic structure with his right hand.
“The gladiators are waiting!” Caracalla joined in, their voices blending and echoing throughout Capitoline Hill.

You bit your lip to suppress a laugh as you noticed the General’s forced smile while he applauded. It was clear he was annoyed with them. Battling a mix of emotions, you realized you had overlooked the general; yet, if anyone captivated you, it was him. With a golden crown atop his head, he resembled more than just a general, even an emperor—he was like a God, the son of Mars, Marcus himself, living up to his name in every way. His grandeur lit up the space around you, sending a radiance that first dazzled your eyes and then sent vibrations deep into your chest.

As your heart raced like never before, you found yourself wondering if this was what love truly felt like. If it wasn’t love, then what else could it be? You were left guessing, having never received guidance on such matters. In that moment, you realized that you wanted to be this man’s slave for life, wrapped in secrecy about your identity.

As the crowd moved away from the temple toward the Colosseum, you followed along, trying to keep the general and Octavius in sight, but it was challenging. People hurried past, bumping into you. Wanting to avoid getting lost, you decided to head in another direction, pushing through the throngs of people as you approached the temple and searched for him.

Suddenly, you spotted the emperors and the general traveling down the road in a chariot. Just as you were about to run after them, a group of senators descended the stairs. Your eyes met those of a dark-skinned senator who looked at you with wide eyes. Feeling uneasy, you quickly looked away and blended back into the crowd as he approached.

However, more people were coming from the road, so you turned left and slipped behind the temple to hide. Once you reached the corner wall, you glanced back and saw no one following you. Just as you were about to continue down the other road, someone called out to you. You initially ignored him, but then he shouted your name, “Wait, Aurelia!”

You froze in shock. That was your real name, and you had believed everyone who knew it was dead. Curiosity overtook you, and you turned your head to see the man from earlier running toward you. You gripped the fabric of your dress, feeling extremely nervous. The man was panting as he approached.

"Is it really you?" he asked.

You swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, sir, but I think you have mistaken me for someone else."

The man looked you in the eye and smiled confidently. "I would recognize those eyes anywhere; it’s you." His gaze lingered on your hair. "Septimia Aurelia, do you have any idea how much I’ve searched for you, my lady?"

Chapter 3: The Intention

"Veritas Odit Moras"

Truth Hates Delay.

 

"Septimia Aurelia, do you know how much I have searched for you, my lady?"

You regarded him with surprise and were rendered speechless.

The man carefully looked around and then grabbed your wrist to move you to a more secluded spot against the wall. "You've got a lot of attention, dressing like this, it's pretty clear who you are. When did you get here? You've read the letter? Have you told anyone about it? I hope you haven’t."

Your heart was beating like crazy, your ears were buzzing, and the man's voice was almost blurred.

"May I ask who you are, sir?"

How come you knew nothing and he knew more than you?

“I’m Macrinus, my lady. You might not remember me; you were too young. I’m the one who took you to Vicius.”

Vicius was your uncle's real name, the one your father had mentioned in the letter.

“I went to Egypt to find you as your father ordered. However, Vicius was reluctant; I’m not blaming him, but—” he glanced over your shoulder as if he was looking for something behind you."How did you return to Rome? Where is he now?"

You tried to understand what he said, but it was very difficult, too much for one day.

"He has passed away, and I was brought here as a captive," you said in a low voice, your eyes bright with tears as you recalled him once more—especially in this way—stung you anew.

He touched your shoulder. "It seems that your return was unfortunate. You must have opened the letter. You didn’t lose it, did you?"

You dabbed at your eyes with the tips of your fingers, wiping away the tears. "It doesn't matter now, sir. I was brought here as a slave."

“What slave? You are the daughter of a divine emperor. Who purchased you? Who is your master?”

You remained expressionless and refused to give him the General's name. You knew it might put him in a difficult position and you had no intention of trusting him."Sir, I am a slave, and I must live as one."

"You can't be serious, please. This is your birthright, and you must demand what you deserve."

"How?"

"I will present it to the Senate, and it is likely to receive their support. However, I must first weaken Geta," he stated firmly and decisively.

“But-."

"I have to go now before they get suspicious. I will help you. I’ve promised your father."

“Sir I-"

"I have a lot to tell you. Trust me and wait," he said, striding across the temple..

This man claimed to be a friend of your father's, but you were unsure whether to trust him. The situation was a significant source of distress for you, both mentally and physically. You felt a sense of nausea, pressing your hand and then your arm against the wall in an attempt to regain your composure. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to your arm, attempting to gain control of your thoughts. At that moment, you heard a voice you recognized calling out to you.

"My Lady!" Octavius hurried over to your side, looking concerned.

When you opened your eyes, you saw his sandals first because you were looking at the floor. You looked up.

“Are you well? Did someone do something to you?” He looked around angrily, ready to draw his sword. You put out your hand and stopped him.

“Calm down, sir. I'm fine."

Octavian pulled his hand away, taken aback by your touch. “I've been looking for you everywhere. The general sent me to find you, he was worried.”

You brushed a few strands of hair from your face with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry, I got a little nervous in the crowd and pulled away."

"Yes, it was unexpected for everyone. The emperors were in a hurry to get to the games, so they cut the ceremony short. I couldn't get you to the carriage in time. Forgive me."

"You still treat me like a lady, sir," you teased him.

He smiled. "If you don't mind, I'd like to keep it up. Shall we? The games are about to begin."

He gestured to the waiting carriage in the distance.

 

—-

 

You were mesmerised by the splendour of this building, sitting in the part of the Colosseum intended for slaves and others. From your vantage point, you surveyed the area where the emperors and the General were seated, though they were not clearly visible from your distance. However, when they stood and advanced to deliver their opening speeches, you could see them more distinctly in their white shawls.

Caracalla and Geta raised their hands and greeted the crowd, while they chanted their names repeatedly loudly.

"People of Rome! Today, we gather to honor the glorious greatest General Marcus Acacius.”

Applause and voices rose as Geta extended his hand to the General, you were filled with excitement. He took his hand, came forward and raised his hands. He looked up at the top bleachers and searched the crowd, his eyes determined to find you, but it was hard from such a distance.

Caracalla grasped the General's other hand. He was between them, the crowd now chanting all three of their names.

"Are you ready to see these magnificent, mind-blowing games to celebrate his extraordinary achievements?”

When the crowd responded enthusiastically in the affirmative, Geta and Caracalla shouted excitedly at the same time.

“Then let the games begiiiiiiiiiiiin!”

The thick iron gates of the arena rumbled open and two chariots thundered in, their arrival accompanied by the roar of trumpets and the beating of drums. They circled round the arena and stopped in front of the general and the emperors. While the emperors applauded them enthusiastically, the soldiers in charge ordered them to step aside and the chariots moved forward, their warriors saluting the crowd.

“Now, Gladiatoooooors!” Geta shouted and pointed to the other door. The crowd continued to cheer louder when they saw the iron-armored warriors coming out one by one. Every step was a sharp noise, echoing through the arena. The gladiators, seven in number, turned to the emperors and saluted them.

“Ave Imperatores, morituri te salutant!” Hail Emperors, those who are about to die salute you!

Caracalla looked at the General smiling widely.

“Today, the speech is yours, General Acacius!” he shouted and clasped his hand, and sat on his throne.

"Spur them on, you're the expert, I want to see some blood,” Geta said to the general with a wink and sat on his throne, legs crossed, clapping. From a distance, you couldn't hear them or see his face clearly, but you were certain the General was not pleased. As the General raised his arms in the air, the crowd fell silent, and the shouting died down, allowing you to rest your ears a little.

“As a soldier, I can tell you this: When you engage in combat, it is important to maintain a positive mindset and avoid thoughts of defeat. You must only think about winning! However, winning is not easy, not just about killing your enemy or defeating him. Absolutely not. Winning is about being remembered with honor, like a hero, even if you die in the end! A true soldier most likely, is not afraid of death. Neither is a true gladiator! He embraces it, caresses it, and even defies it! Today, we want to see a real gladiator who can kill death itself! Prove you can achieve it and make your emperors proud! Fight with honor and win the crowd!”

The general's speech was a roaring success, prompting a rapturous response from the assembled crowd. The drums beat again, and the gladiators raised their swords in salute to the general and gathered together in a defensive position.

He was the real deal: a genuine commander and warrior. He made your heart beat fast and you admired him.

As the battle between gladiators and other warriors commenced, you began to feel a certain degree of apprehension. You had seen blood and wounded people before, of course, but this was not the point. The point was that these warriors, whose bodies were being ruthlessly cut and torn apart, were being watched with enthusiasm and laughter by the crowd. You were grateful for the top stand, thankful that you were watching from there. You knew you wouldn't have been able to bear to see such an atrocity up close.

The warriors in the chariot had lost all their horses, also torn apart mercilessly, they jumped down and attacked the gladiators with their spears, killing, and butchering a few in the process. Only two gladiators and three warriors remained. They all had cuts on exposed parts of their bodies and blood oozing from their injured areas, but they were completely focused on survival and didn't have time to care. The dusty floor of the Colosseum was stained red, and the smell of blood wafted around in clouds of dust, like the smell of red-hot iron. The gladiators roared their triumph as they slew the last of the warriors, and their voices echoed throughout the Colosseum. The sounds of drumbeats, applause, whistles, cheers, curses, and laughter filled the air.

The emperors rose to their feet and expressed their approval and support for the gladiators through applause and cheers. Once their orations had concluded, the gladiators proceeded through the reopened iron gates, whereupon the drumming ceased. The sole remaining auditory stimulus was the noise of the crowd. The general and emperors were no longer visible, so you decided to leave, as the noise was already causing a headache.

Your legs were aching as you descended the steps, but it was just as hard to get down as it was to get up. After all, you had watched from the top and it was quite high. You had never been up to such a high building before and you were certain that you would never go up again.

When you reached the ground floor, you looked around, but there was no one you recognized. Senators and other dignitaries were leaving the Coliseum one by one, talking among themselves about the evening banquet. You were not sure that the General would take you there. He was nowhere to be seen, but you kept looking for him. When you took a few steps in the opposite direction to where the people were coming from, you were frightened that you might meet your brothers. When you saw a white shawl his wearing, you approached the General, who was talking to one of the senators. He turned his head and saw you. But you noticed the emperors were walking towards you from another direction. You reeled back in shock and turned on your heel. You were never prepared to see them so close. You strode through the exit and headed for the stairs. Since already climbed and descended quite a few stairs today your feet were no longer firmly planted on the ground. As you quickly went down, you suddenly lost your balance and found yourself on the ground. You shivered when you felt the cold stones against your skin and scowled at the women nearby who were laughing at you as you tried to figure out what had happened. You sat down on the marble stairs, heard his voice and footsteps hurrying down behind you, and soon felt the breeze from his shawl caress your back."Aya!" The General reached out, grasped your hand gently, and lifted you up.

"Are you all right?" He checked your feet and then your face, clearly concerned.

“Ah, as always, our General is a gentleman, isn't he, brother?”

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you heard Caracalla's voice so close. They must have seen the General holding your hand so you immediately withdrew them from the General's and stepped back, bowing your head. However, they were already descending the stairs slowly, their gaze fixed on you.

“Indeed, aren’t you going to introduce us to this beautiful lady, General Acacius?” Geta asked curiously. From where he stood, he looked taller than the general.

“Is she your secret lover or something?” Caracalla chuckled, tilting his head to see your face clearly.

“My emperors, the carriage has arrived,” you could have sworn you'd heard that voice before. When you looked at her, the Empress Julia Domna stared at you raising her eyebrows and came a little closer. You averted your eyes, the feeling that you had seen this woman before took over your whole body and made you even more nervous than your brothers did.

“We just met the General's lover, Mother,” Caracalla laughed.

“Lover?” She sized you up and gave you a stunned look.

“My slave highness,” the General corrected him. You immediately bowed your head and greeted them formally.

“A slave? How fortunate you are, I have never seen such a beautiful slave,” Geta said, his eyes wide, and you felt him tense as the General's body moved slightly in front of yours. You felt grateful as you hid yourself behind his shawl.

“She reminded me of the Germans, remember?" he chuckled and covered his mouth.

Geta accompanied his laughter and punched him jokingly in the shoulder. Then he looked at you again. “Restrain yourself, brother, this is something completely different, you know what I mean?"

Caracalla huffed, “Tempting!"

You had no idea what they were talking about, and despite your best efforts to keep your eyes off Julia, she was always looking at you.

“Bring her to the banquet,” Caracalla said excitedly, clasping his hands together.

“But Highness, you know, women are not allowed there,” Julia said loudly.

“The Empress is right, only senators and patricians, just like any other banquets,” the General said with a sharp tone.

“How boring, I'd like her to serve me, pour me some wine, so I'd see a pretty face instead of those ugly blokes' faces all night.” Caracalla pursed his lips.

Geta sighed at his reaction and put his palm in his foreground. “You’re still a child brother, if you want a girl to get laid, I'll get you one after the banquet,” he turned his head to general. “Spending the night with another Roman's slave would be a bit of theft,” he said with a grin that showed all of his teeth at the General.

The General clenched his jaw and looked at him menacingly. You felt shivers run down your spine. Domna looked at them with concern and tried to ease the atmosphere by clapping her hands. “That's enough gentlemen, I'm famished, watching the games made me real hungry,” she took Geta's arm “Shall we?” She must have been pretty familiar with this kind of situation.

Geta turned to General one last time, ”We wanted to send you a new slave as a gift, tonight,” his eyes searching you up and down.

"That is very kind of you, but I must refuse,” the General said in a firm tone.

He inhaled deeply, "It's not hard to guess why," he smiled crookedly.

“Then I want it for myself, as you promised,” Caracalla whined, taking Geta's other arm.

“Share with me?”

“You just said it's a theft.”

“Cruel.”

They kept up their debate while they walked towards the waiting carriage. It seemed like the tension was slowly easing.

Once they were in their carriage and out of sight, the general turned to you with a look of frustrated annoyance on his face. Meeting your brothers for the first time was awkward, but it was clear that they had always been like that, and everyone, including their mother, accepted it as normal.

“Are they always like this?”

“Worse.”

“They're like spoiled little children,” you snapped.

He let out a little laugh, putting a hand to his mouth, which surprised you. You thought he'd scold you for criticizing the emperors in his presence. But he didn’t, also, his smile was so beautiful that you couldn't help but smile back.

“Have you seen the games? What do you think?” The General asked you curiously.

“Well a bit, bloody.”

He smirked. “But you're used to seeing blood,” he looked around as if he was waiting for something.

“Yes, but I don't like it when people cut each other mercilessly,” you said in a stubborn tone.

“It's called survival.”

“The game of survival,” you murmured. “I don't know, it doesn't feel right,” you said honestly.

“I'm a warrior too you know, I've fought there countless times,” he said with a proud smile on his face.

You looked at him in surprise, of course, you had expected it, but you shuddered when you imagined him there, fighting for his survival. Soon a carriage pulled up beside you both, he touched your shoulder.

"You'd better go to the villa now. They're expecting me at the banquet," he said.

“I want to say thank you, for bringing me here today,” you said softly as he helped you into the carriage.

“The pleasure is mine," he said gently, his eyes meeting yours made you smile undoubtedly.

He then gestured to the coachman and the horses began to move, pulling the carriage forward.

As the carriage carried you away from the General, you continued to observe him from beneath the curtain until his silhouette in white receded from your view.

—-

The next morning, you opened your eyes and smiled when you heard the rooster crowing cheerfully. You sat up with a yawn, you saw that Norell was already up her mattress was empty, clearly started the day before you. You looked out the window while your mind returned to the events of the previous day. You thought about the ceremony, the games, the gladiators, the blood, your first sight of your arrogant and strange brothers, and that brown-skinned man, Macrinus. And of course, the General. When he stood with that golden crown on his head… You smiled to yourself, remembering him, and suddenly your cheeks flushed. You were surprised every time because you had never experienced such feelings in your body before. It was all so new to you.

On the other hand, you couldn't stop thinking about what Macrinus had said. You were sure he was planning something. It was hard to know if it would be right to tell the General everything, how he would react, who he would side with. Then you remembered the letter, and your body stiffened almost like a statue of Venus. It had completely slipped your mind that you had left it in his room. He didn't have a chance to touch his stuff yesterday because he arrived late at the villa, but he would definitely touch it eventually. You quickly tidied yourself and your hair and walked out of your room. As you stood there by the stairs leading up to the General's room, wondering what to do, Norell came up to you, carrying a tray with food on it.

“Are you taking this to the General?”

“Yes, he must be awake by now.”

“I'll take it to him,” you said and took the tray from her.

“Are you sure? The Master has warned us not to let you do too much work.”

“I'll talk to him, don't worry, I need to check his wound anyway,” you said smiling at her.

“Well, I was afraid of dropping the tray,” she gasped.

“What's wrong?” you put the tray on a nearby chair and went over to her, she was pressing her hand to her stomach.

“Well, it’s my moon,” she smiled at you, her freckled cheeks flushed.

“Oh, do you want me to give you an herbal mixture for the pain?”

“Would that help?”

“It works for me.”

You strode into the room and picked up your leather bag, looking through the few remaining bottles of medicine. You were running low on supplies. When you returned to her side, Norell was sitting in a chair, pressing her hands to her stomach.

You poured some of the medicine from the bottle into a bowl on the tray and crushed it, then poured a little wine into a cup, also from the tray, and diluted the mixture.

"That was the master's cup," Norell declared.

"I'll get a new one from the kitchen, drink this, and I'll be right back."

You had to cross to the other courtyard to get to the kitchen, where you had last entered the balneum. You felt your cheeks flush as you remembered the last time you were there with the General there. You returned to the main courtyard with a new cup, put it on the tray, and looked at Norell, who was grimacing as she drank the herbal concoction you had given her.

"This tastes awful," she complained.

"That's why you should drink it all, dear,” you smiled at her.

Then you picked up the tray and ascended the stairs, one by one. You stopped in front of the General's room, propped the tray up with one hand, and knocked on the door with the other. You opened the door and entered. He was sitting at his desk, looking at papers. He seemed busy. You saw the calamus pen and papers in his hand and knew you had to make a plan to get the letter before he found it.

When he looked up and saw you, he raised his eyebrows. "Have you decided to be my slave now?"

"Well, Norell is not feeling well. I'm helping her, at least for today." You put the tray down on the table and turned towards him, your gaze fixed on the wooden chest next to him.

"What's wrong? Is she alright?"

"It's a woman's issue that happens every month," you explained.

"Oh, I see," he murmured and returned to his papers.

“May I take a look at your wound? As your medicus, of course.”

"So you will appear to be both my slave and medicus today.” He put the pen on the desk, took the paper in his hand, folded it, stuffed it into the envelope, and sealed with pressing his own seal on the wax.

"I guess I am, for today," your eyes were still on the chest, wondering how to get the letter without him noticing.

His lips curled into a smile. "I feel blessed.”

Acacius stood, wearing a dark purple tunic with gold embroidery on the sleeves and collar. He walked over to his bed and sat on the edge of it, looking at you. You moved closer to him and had to bend down to check on his wound. Looking at him out of the corner of your eye, you put your bag on the bed, a bit away from him who had rolled up his tunic.

As you stood in front of him and leaned over him, he was surprised to feel the light breeze of your hair hit his face. He leaned back a little, but it gave him a better view of your breasts, he swallowed hard making him stunned. Then he turned his head away, even though it was so difficult for him, but he waited patiently. You were no different from him as you checked his wound, oblivious to everything, touching his skin made you tense every time. 

The General's wound was almost healed but you noticed a rash around the cut.

“Do you have any itching or pain, sir?”

“Itching, yes, a little, pain, no.”

There’s pain, thought Acacius, but it's not where my wound is, deep in my chest.

He turned his head towards you again and looked into your beautiful eyes shining like a gem under your long eyelashes, he embraced his pain meanwhile. But it wasn't just it. The general was experiencing a whole range of sensations he hadn't felt in a long time, and it was unlike anything he'd ever fully experienced with a woman. You unintentionally revived memories of his naive and callow youth, but he appeared to find it amusing.

“I need to make an ointment for that-“

But just as you straightened up to reach for your bag, you felt pressure and pain in your neck. Looking down, you realize that the chains of the necklace you were wearing were caught in the trimmings on the collar of the general's tunic, stuck in its threads.

He was taken aback, but perhaps not as much as you were. The expression on your face, as you tried to pull your neck backward in utter shock, made him giggle. Unfortunately, you found it difficult to remain calm and the first thing that came to your mind was to unlock the necklace. So when you reached your hands back behind your neck, you lost your balance and fell on top of him. The General was a trained soldier, with well-developed arm and back muscles and a body that could easily carry such a light load in that position. All in all, he was a man so when you fell and your breasts hit his muscular chest, feeling them beneath the thin fabric, made him fall backward onto the bed.

You gasped as you found yourself in this awkward situation without even realizing how it had happened. With a quick move, you put one hand on the bed to sit up and realized that the other was on the general's chest, you withdrew it and looked at his face to check his reaction. The general looked back at you, his dark brown eyes locked on yours, but you were blinking your eyes in surprise. You frantically tried to stand up, but your necklace, as if mocking you, wouldn't let you. He grabbed your shoulders and stopped you as you struggled over his body. You were making it difficult for him to remain calm with your movements, and he was starting to lose his patience.

“Easy, would you?” He growled. His hands reached behind your neck and he murmured as he unlocked the necklace. "Stay still. I can't restrain myself if you keep moving like this.”

Your face flushed like a crimson hue as you realized what he was talking about, gasped as you felt between your legs, beneath the fabric, a part of his body pressing against your womanhood.

“You really don't know how to behave around a man, you are so careless,” he chastised you.

Once your neck was free from the damn necklace, you stood up quickly, feeling a slight soreness in your neck.

“I've spent more time around men than you think, sir,” you mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand.

As he removed your necklace from the collar of his tunic, a few threads of the fabric snapped with it. “But you were dressing like them, they didn't know you were a woman,” he corrected you. ‘You have to be careful from now on, especially when you're dressed like this.’

"Forgive me, sir," you said, feeling a little embarrassed to look him in the face.

"Your face is as red as wine," he chuckled, sitting up in bed.

You bit your lower lip and pursed your lips, then went over to your bag and picked it up to make the ointment. The medicine bottles rattled as they came out of the bag, and the general looked at them curiously. "You've been carrying these in your bag all this time?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," you replied, uncapping the green bottle, shaking it, and pouring a few drops into the empty bowl on the tray. As you stirred and softened the ointment with your index finger you murmured, “I made all this myself, but it’s almost ran out.’

“Impressive.”

Once the ointment was ready to be applied, you took the bowl in your other hand and approached the general.

“Sir, I need to apply this ointment to the wound.”

“Careful and don't throw yourself on me this time,” he giggled as he grabbed the hem of his tunic and pulled it up once more.

You swallowed and cleared your throat, trying to stay calm, dipped the tip of your finger into the bowl, took some and applied it to the wound.

"You're making the same mistake again," he teased.

You frowned, not quite understanding what he was saying. You were sure you applied the ointment well, but looks like this was not the issue. When you looked at him, you caught him staring at your breasts. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, his eyes meeting yours. His brown eyes were warm and intense, making your heart melt.

"Never bend over another man like that," he whispers.

As his warm breath brushed against your cheek, your heartbeat quickened. "I-I won't," you stammered.

He released your wrist, and you stepped back and put the bowl on the desk. “It needs to be applied at night too, I think you can handle it,” you said with your back turned. You glanced at the wooden chest out of the corner of your eye. It seemed like you wouldn't have a chance to get the letter, at least not while he was still in his room.

“Yes, I'm grateful,” said the general, standing up and coming over to you taking the bowl and sniffing it.

"The aroma is pleasing; what is this?"

You smiled at him. “Asphodeloideae (aloe vera), sir, it does indeed have a pleasing aroma. It has been demonstrated to accelerate the healing of burns and itching wounds. But I'm afraid it's about to run out, so just use it until it's finished.”

Acacius perched himself on the edge of this desk, looking at you. “Carrying all these bottles in your bag might be a little difficult. Besides, you say you're out of supplies, I will be traveling to the city and subsequently to the barracks tomorrow, would you like to come with me?”

“To the barracks?”

“Absolutely not,” his voice was loud and sharp. “I meant to say, I shall convey you to the city in my carriage, and return for you when I have finished my business.”

Pleased by his offer, “Sir, that would be great, thank you.”

He smiled softly at you and walked over to the table to eat the food you had brought for him. As you grabbed your bag and headed for the door to leave the room, he stopped you by extending his hand.

“Won't you join me?”

You turned your head to him. He pointed to the chair opposite him with his hand. “Have a seat, I need to make sure my medicus has eaten something.”

You smiled, did as he said, putting your bag down. Acacius picked up the wine cup, you reached for the decanter before him.

“Allow me, please.”

He smiled gratefully as you poured the wine from the decanter into his cup.

“You are getting better and better at being a slave, you are willing to fulfill all my needs. Except one.”

You almost spilled all the wine when you met his piercing eyes. You slowly placed the decanter on the tray. While you were calculating what to say, he put his hand on yours which holds the handle of the decanter.

"Don't you have any feelings for me?” He was looking at you from under his eyebrows, eagerly waiting for your answer.

His gaze shifted from your lips to your eyes, you lingered looking into his eyes, even if you said what you felt now, it was very difficult to predict what would happen next. You wondered if he would love you for who you really were.

“It's all so new to me also very hard to say anything for sure. But…"

“But?”

You were trying to think rationally under the influence of his gaze, but you were failing.

“I feel happy when I'm with you, and… I miss you when you're not around,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks burning.

“At least there's a silver lining.” Acacius smiled widely, lifted your hand, and placed a kiss on it.

—

It was an ordinary day in the streets of Rome, blessed by clear sky and sunshine. The sounds of birdsong were interspersed with those of the rooster. Some people wandered the streets on foot, chatting to each other, while others mounted horses and rode along the stone paths at a pace that caused the hooves of the horses to clatter against the buildings with a distinct echoing sound. The sound of a nearby blacksmith's hammer striking an anvil could be heard in the distance, accompanied by the voices of merchants trying to attract customers to their businesses and draw attention to the goods they were offering for sale. Women often inspected the exhibits before making a purchase and then had their slaves carry them home. Since the clothing and accessories worn by each group reflected their status, it was relatively easy to distinguish between social classes.

You and Norell were walking around the streets in your slave clothes and cloaks to buy something just like other Romans. You still couldn't get used to these clothes. When men and women stared at you, wished you were invisible, as you used to be.

You entered the market street and noticed the large crowd gathered in front of the stalls. There were pots, vegetables, fruits, fabrics, fish, butchers, and plants. The plants, herbs, and flowers on the stalls were very varied and fresh. Once you had purchased what you needed and placed it in your bags, you walked down the street once more, recounting to Norell the events of the previous day and your observations at the Colosseum, as she had requested.

"You know he's in love with you, right?" Norell looked at you suggestively through her yellowish eyelashes.

"Are you talking about the General?

“Is there someone else?" she teased, then inhaled deeply. "I wouldn't be surprised, you're quite attractive."

“Oh, Norell, please," you whined.

“I know you love him too, why are you avoiding my question?"

You smiled shyly, “I’m not sure what I feel. How can you be so sure of his feelings anyway?”

You both waited for a carriage to pass in front of you before crossing the street.

“Because I've known him since I was young and I've never seen the General like this before. Even Tullia is worried, she's angry with you, you know.”

You looked at her with your hazel eyes wide open. “Why? But I didn't do anything wrong, I did everything the General asked.”

Once the carriage had passed, you crossed the street and continued walking along the avenue where the west front of the Colosseum was visible. Norell took your arm.

“I don't know how it was where you come from, but here slaves have to fulfill their master’s every need. So Tullia thinks you’re not obeying him.” You were offended by being treated as a slave, but you couldn't blame her for being unaware of the truth about you. You turned your head to her and kept your voice low. “He said he would not touch me against my will.”

“Oh, that's why he's so upset then.”

You stopped and looked at her. “Upset?”

Her brown eyes looked sad. “Every night before I go to bed, I see him looking deep in thought at his balcony. And during the day, he's there, watching whatever you're doing. It's not like him.”

Was he? Somewhere deep in your chest, you felt a sharp, intense pain.

“Other slaves, the beautiful ones, are raped, killed or sold. Even among the nobles, there are those who are forced into marriage and have to sleep with a man they don't love. I know you've never been touched by a man before and neither have I. But if I found someone who could love me the way he loves you, I would give myself to him.” She blinks at you.

You were absolutely certain of her sincerity, but your situation was quite different from that of other slaves, even from all other Roman women.

“I suppose I should confess my feelings to myself first,” you murmured.

“My Lady!”

You and Norell turned to see who was speaking. You were surprised to see Macrinus standing next to you in his cloak.

"I was hoping to meet you," he said, looking around, then came closer. "But, you are very careless," he said in a low voice. "You attract too much attention."

You couldn't understand what he was saying. "Sir, why do you seem to be hiding?”

"I'm lurking because I've been following you for some time, and luckily I found you without anyone noticing."

"Why did you follow me?"

"We need to talk, but not here. We are too exposed.”

“What's going on, Aya? Who is this man?” You forgot for a moment that Norell was looking at you both in confusion.

Macrinus looked at her and then at you then he turned his head to the street.

“Norell, I'll tell you everything later,” you said, touching her shoulder then turned to Macrinus. “Sir, I don't think it’s the right time-”

He grabbed your arm gently. “You don't realize how much danger you are in, Julia suspects something and it's only a matter of time before she finds you.”

“How do you mean?”

"I'll tell you everything, but right now we need to move." He gestured to you as he walked to the other side of the street, you nodded and pulled Norell's arm, you felt uncomfortable going without her.

"Are you going to tell me what is happening? Who is this man?"

"Trust me and wait, I'll tell you everything at once, I promise."

She wasn't convinced, but she nodded and remained silent.

You and Norell followed Macrinus for a few more streets, maintaining a safe distance from the people around you. It didn't take long for you to notice that the streets were getting quieter. There were fewer people around, and the streets were narrower and more secluded. After passing through a narrow, dead-end street, Macrinus stopped, threw back his hood, and turned to you. When you realized Norell was squeezing your arm, you looked at her. Seeing her looking at a structure at the end of the street, petrified. You turned your head to that direction to find out what was worrying her. It was a large but untidy two-story house. The curtains were blowing out of the windows in the wind, they were all red.

“Gods, it’s…whore house," Norell muttered.

You turned to Macrinus in disbelief. At that moment, two men approached you from down the street, surveyed you both, and continued on their way, laughing.

“I'm sorry, my lady, but this is the safest place to talk.”

"To talk? What are you planning? How could you think I would be in such a place?"

Your voice echoed through the cobbled streets as Macrinus approached you, his expression grave.

"I can't speak to you safely anywhere else, your appearance would draw attention if we were in a tavern or other. But this place is too remote for anyone to think of it, you know what I mean, and nothing will happen to you, the one who runs this place knows me and I trust her."

When Norell grabbed your arm, you moved a little away from Macrinus, closer to the wall.

“Look Aya, I don't know what's going on, but this is not good, if the General finds out about this-.”

"I know. He knows my real family, and I trust him.” You lied. “Don't worry, you go to the place where we'll meet with the carriage and wait for me. I don't want you to go there with me."

"I don't think you should go in there either."

You gave Macrinus a quick look, then turned to Norell. "I know, it won't take long, I promise."

Norell looked at you and Macrinus with concern.

"If you won't be there in time, I'll tell the General everything," she said, sounding more like she wanted Macrinus to hear him. You looked at him in panic, but he didn't look surprised. You knew that moment you had to talk to him, no matter what. You were almost certain that he was planning to threaten the General through you.

Once Norell turned the corner into another alley, you turned to Macrinus. He smiled at you, turned, and walked towards the house. He no longer seemed nervous, as if he comes here, and walks through here often. You, however, were tense, feeling abandoned by Norell's leaving and like you'd put yourself in great danger.

Macrinus lifted the iron knocker of the big wooden door and rapped twice. At that moment, you tensed even more as you heard voices coming from inside, your face flushing red with embarrassment. A short, poorly dressed man opened the door and looked at Macrinus, then at you. When his eyes met yours, you looked away.

"Tell Juturna I'm here."

The man gave you one last look and went inside. Macrinus gestured for you to come in as he moved quickly down the corridor. You swallowed and deliberately ignored the voices as you walked in.

“Did it really have to be here?”

“I'm sorry, I understand why you're uncomfortable, but it really is safer than you think.”

Macrinus smirks, but you grow more and more nervous, everyone here men, and women is almost naked even in the mural pictures dyed on the walls. The voices were getting louder and louder when a middle-aged woman came running towards you. She wore too much make-up and smiled broadly at Macrinus.

"Sire, how good to see you again."

"Private room now."

She tilted her head to look at you with wide eyes, you turned your head and wrapped your cloak tightly around your arms, covering your body. She pressed her hand to her chest, "Gods, it's been years since such a beauty drops in here.”

"Don't overstep your bounds, she's a lady!" Macrinus scolded him.

"Apologies, sire. Have your way to up the stairs and the boys will show you to your room," she said with a grin.

Following Macrinus into the hallway, seeing some young girls, half-naked, talking amongst themselves. As you passed them, they looked at you strangely. You felt sorry for them, but also a bit disgusted.

A young boy gestured to the room, and Macrinus invited you in after he had entered. You were almost startled when the door closed behind you. Looked around quickly to observe, red curtains, orange bedspread and pillows, overturned wine cups and fruits in a bowl on the table, and various colored fabrics on the chairs. And the smell... You couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in this room. It made you feel sick.

Macrinus saw your unease and pulled out the chair for you to sit down.

"Have a seat, my lady."

You gave him a look that said you weren't going to be pushed around and sat down on the chair, crossing your arms to avoid touching anything else. "Tell me what I need to know. I don't have much time."

Macrinus took another wine cup from the other table in the corner of the room, poured wine into, and handed it to you. You made a gesture with the back of your hand and shook your head no.

"Are you afraid of the General?" he asked as he sat down in the chair opposite you. "I know you're staying at his villa. How long has he known?”

"He doesn’t! I can assure you that the General has nothing to do with it.”

Macrinus crossed his legs and took a sip of his wine.

"Of course he does. He'll take you to Geta himself as soon as he finds out."

You thought about him. Would he really do that? You couldn't find the answer, and you hated it.

"The general is a man of honor. He will understand when I tell him."

"Are you saying you can lure him to our side?"

"Our side?" You leaned over the chair towards him, "What is your purpose?"

"It's simple. I'm going to present you to the Senate and get them to recognize you unanimously. You will be formally designated as the heiress to the imperial throne. I really wonder about the emperors’ face when they find out."

Macrinus laughed and took a quick sip of wine.

"How do I know you're not lying to me and you're actually on the emperors’ side at this moment?"

Macrinus narrowed his eyes and looked at you. "I am close to Caracalla. He trusts me." He extended his hand toward you, placing one of the red grapes from the table in it. "I have him right in the palm of my hand, right here, and when the time comes…" He closed his palm and squeezed the grape, the pinkish juice of the grape slowly flowed between his fingers and dripped on the floor. You looked at him in disgust as he ate smashed grapes and licked his own palm.

“And what do you want from me? What will you gain if the Senate recognizes me?”

“I promised your father I would restore peace to Rome, and after he sent you away, he asked me to find Vicius and make sure you were safe. So as I stated before, I went to Egypt to find you, Vicius managed to hide you, he didn't believe me, he was very good at covering his tracks. No wonder he kept you hidden all this time. On the way back, news reached me of your father's death in York, and by the time I got back to the capital, Caracalla and Geta had declared their empire.”

That was four years ago, and it was no coincidence that on that very day, your uncle took you from home to the Valetudinarium in Alexandria. But you still weren't sure whether he had done it to protect you from Macrinus or from your emperor brothers or Julia.

“You said Julia suspected something.”

Macrinus was a man of very calm demeanor; it was hard to tell from his expression what he was thinking. “If Julia finds out you're alive, she'll take your life without a second thought.”

You swallowed hard, you already disliked her when you met her on the day of the ceremony.

“But I'm a woman, I can't be a threat to the throne,” you said looking at him, Macrinus put his cup on the table and leaned forward.

“But if one day you give birth to a son, my lady, you will be the greatest threat of all. She is a woman who keeps the General and her sons in balance, do not underestimate her. She wants Acacius in the Senate, to gain power over me.” He reached for a bunch of grapes and plucked one. “But I have secured my position, and with you we can save Rome from them for good.” He popped a grape into his mouth and smiled at you as he chewed.

“What about the General, what will happen to him?”

He stopped chewing. “He has to choose. But before, he could be charged with treason for hiding you in his villa.”

“No, I told you, there’s nothing like that, he doesn't know about the letter. He doesn't know who I really am,” you yelled at him.

“Do you really think emperors would care about that?”

You knew the answer, your heart began beating in your throat. It wasn't fair that the General should face such an offense because of you.

"If you go to the Senate, there'll be a trial and a judgment, and we'll win. No doubt about it. I'll send the word tonight. The court will convene the day after tomorrow. I can hide you until then," he said, standing up and holding out his hand to you.

You regarded him with a determined expression. "I am grateful for your kindness, but I believe I will be safer with the General, I would like to leave now before he finds me here. Moreover, I am not yet ready to trust you fully."

Macrinus laughed. "My lady, I believe that attitude will serve you well in front of the Senate. It might be beneficial to adopt a similar stance.”

As you left the room, you felt a strong inclination to descend the stairs as quickly as possible, in order to avoid the rather pungent odours and sounds. As you passed the rooms one by one, you heard what seemed to be a cry. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw a face you had seen before. You stopped, and when you wanted to look again to make sure, you turned your head, and lifted the torn red curtain blocking the entrance of the room to see her face. It was her, Decima, the girl you met on the ship and with whom you had the good fortune to become friends. You shared your secrets with her, and you had always assumed that she had been sold to a wealthy man. You hoped that she had been happy until now. You were so wrong. You felt your body trembling as your eyes began to well up with tears.

"Are you all right, my lady?" Macrinus asked, concern evident in his voice which came to you in a blur.

"Decima!" You ran into the room beside her, grabbing her shoulders. She was startled, then looked at you with a surprised look on her face and started to cry. You hugged her and pressed her head to your chest.

"Have you been here all this time?”

She was visibly distraught, and your heart ached for her. "I thought you had forgotten me," she sobbed.

"Never. I thought that nobleman had bought you. What happened?"

"No, he didn't," she mumbled, shaking her head.

Without a second thought you grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room.

Macrinus stepped in front of you. “My lady, you can't do this, she belongs here now.”

"No way! I'm taking her with me!" You barked and pushed him aside, pulled Decima by the arm ran to the stairs, and kept walking while ignoring the murmuring, and shouting coming behind you.

“Hey! How you? She's my slave, I paid eight thousand sesterces for her!” Juturna, who owned the place got up from her seat and came over to you, she was angry. Two guards at the door came in, blocking your way with a threatening and mocking demeanor.

Macrinus came running behind. “My lady, please, let her go. Those are the rules here. I’m begging you.”

It never felt right, you didn't want to leave Decima there to her fate. Then, someone came running up to Macrinus and whispered something in his ear. He tensed, cursed angrily, and turned his head to you. “Acacius is here. I need to go. Please don't do anything dull,” he warned you. Then he made his way back down the corridor and stepped through the door that led to the rear entrance.

You swallowed hard when you heard the General’s name, you had to think fast, decide fast. Then you opted to follow your heart, rather than your mind. As you grabbed Decima's hand and headed for the door, it opened with a thud and the General stormed in. You both regarded each other with surprise, but his expression soon became one of anger.

“General Acacius, sir!” Juturna approached him.

He didn't hear her, didn't look around, he was as angry as you'd ever seen him, with a piercing gaze that took hold of yours. As he reached out and grabbed your arm, you pulled back with all your strength. But the second time he grabbed again and pulled roughly, you couldn't find the strength to pull back. But you didn't intend to let go of Decima's hand either.

“Sir, please tell her something, she's trying to take my slave.” The woman bowed her head in front of the general and squinted at you.

“She is my friend, please help me, sir,” you said pleadingly.

"I'm a Roman citizen, and this one belongs to me. You clearly don't know the laws. Give her to me now," she said, grabbing Decima's other arm and pulling her along.

“No!”

“Let her go, Aya!” the General roared, but you didn't listen to him. Before you could even think about reaching for Decima, he grabbed your arm again and pulled you to outside, but you struggled with all your strength. The General let out a low growl, and before you knew it, the ground gave way beneath your feet. He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder. Your face hit the leather armor on his muscular back with a thump, leaving you gasping in surprise. You struggled to get free, but he held on tight, carrying you out.

“No! Let me down! Please!” No matter what you said, it didn't stop him, you tried to lift your head to look at Decima, but when you saw that the door was closed, you got angry.

You started punching his back, but it was like hitting a stone wall. He tightened his muscular arm around the back of your thighs, right near your butt. As he carried you, your loud voice echoed through the whole street. People in the street looked at you curiously as they saw the general had come with you over his shoulder to the carriage. You gave up struggling, and he set you down.

Your hair was a mess, but all you had on your mind was getting back to Decima. He saw you looking back, grabbed your arm, and put you and then himself into the carriage. He ordered the coachman to drive and then he started his horses. He sat you down next to him and never let go of your arm. When the carriage moved, he loosened his grip and turned his head towards you. But you were looking the other way. Norell sitting across from you, her lips tightly closed, so ashamed to look the general in the face, blaming herself. No one spoke the whole way, only the sound of the wheels rolling on the stony ground echoed inside the carriage.

Upon arrival at the villa, Norell regarded the General and you with a timid expression before exiting the carriage. You didn't move, your anger still raw. In the end, your stubbornness made him give up and he got out. "Come out now," he ordered.

He was waiting for you with his hand extended. You inhaled and stood up, but instead of taking his hand, you grabbed the side of the car as you stepped out. You walk briskly into the Villa's garden and leave him behind. As you came into the garden, you saw Tullia and Norell whispering to each other. You glanced at them, and they looked over at the general, who was walking quickly behind you. They seemed tense. As you were heading to your room, a strong hand grabbed your wrist. He pulled you to the stairs this time you didn’t resist. He led you to his room and closed the door.

He turned to you, first his brown eyes met yours and then he calculated what to say or tried to remain calm.

“You will never go there again, do you hear me?”

You glanced over at the balcony, and he stepped a little closer. “How could you go there? How could you put yourself in danger like that? What were you thinking?”

“She's my friend,” you murmured, looking at the setting sun on the horizon through the window.

“Even so, there's nothing you can do for her, the rules apply to everyone.”

“That could have been me,” you turned your head to him. “I could have been one of those poor girls if you-” you swallowed, your voice was trembling.

Acacius' expression softened as he moved closer to you. "I'm truly sorry about your friend, but you need to let it go. I need you to promise me you won't go there again." His brown eyes were bathed in the orangish sunlight streaming through the window. They were looking at you with intensity, delving deeply into your soul. You wondered how you could still be so stubborn, defying him like that. You closed your eyes and crossed your arms, realizing your disobedience, he grabbed your shoulders. "I may be a gentle master to you, but don't even think to test my patience.”

At that moment, the anger that was welling up inside you was trying to get out.

“I am not your slave! I never have been! I'm-”

You almost would tell him everything, but not feeling ready yet, not like this. He was far from being surprised, it’s like he knew you were going to say that.

“As for that, I couldn't find any proof that you were a Roman citizen,” Acacius pulled his hands back, “I recently sent a letter to the governor in Egypt regarding your uncle's funeral. I have received a reply from him today. It seems that he does not have any relatives, only his wife and himself. Interestingly, there is no record of the name Aya.”

It was rather unexpected. You were unprepared for how quickly he discovered the truth. As he approached, you instinctively braced yourself and took a step back. You winced when your back hit the stone wall. Acacius placed his palms on the wall, either side of your head. His brown eyes darkened as he leaned in, almost close enough to kiss you. You placed your hands against the wall behind you, feeling the coolness of the stone in your palms and on your skin, in an attempt to gather your strength. His eyes locked onto yours as if he were questioning you.

“Who are you?”

 

 

 

Chapter 4: The Desire

"Ubi amor ibi fides."

Where there is love, there is faith.

 

“Tell me who you are,” Acacius waited for the answer to come from between your lips, his eyes lingering on the curve of them.

You knew it was time. There was no point in dragging it out any longer.

“Marcus, I-”

He was initially taken aback, but he liked it when you called him by his first name. He kept questioning you, though, still waiting for an answer.

The door of the room was suddenly knocked on from outside. It was his squire. Acacius turned his head angrily.

"Don't disturb me!" he commanded.

"Sir, it's urgent matter!"

Acacius looked into your eyes for the last time, then withdrew his hands and turned towards the door.

"Come in!”

Acacius' squire Cato came in, looking very worried.

"Sir, you've been summoned from Collis Palatium (Palatine Hill). It's an emergency." He was out of breath.

"Take it easy and let me know what's going on, Cato."

"They said, Emperor Geta has been poisoned, sir. The Empress wants to see you."

You covered your mouth in shock. After all, he was your half-brother. Acacius looked at you and then back at Cato. "Why is she calling me? I'm not a medicus."

"I'm not sure, sir, but I was told she wanted to speak to you. The guard with the horse said so. He's waiting for you outside to accompany you sir.”

Acacius nodded and let out a deep sigh.

“Take me with you," you said suddenly.

He turned to you. "No, it might be too late by now."

"I can help him," you said loudly.

"Maybe you can't. I won't throw you into this recklessly,” he hissed.

"Are you going to let him die? It would be disastrous for Rome if he dies. He may not be the best ruler, but he's on the throne and an emperor in the end. I know he rules better than Caracalla. You know that too. You can't just leave Rome's fate in his hands."

Acacius put his hands on his waist, thinking, uncertain, but knowing you were right.

“I didn't know you were so interested in politics,” he teased, crossing his arms.

“I'm just observing things,” you shrugged. “Please let me come,” you said pleadingly.

His brow furrowed, and he raised his index finger as if in warning.

"You will stay in your cloak in the carriage and you will not show your face to anyone until I say so. If I need you, you will come when I tell you. Is that clear?"

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

 

——

 

The upper class Roman citizens settled on the Palatine Hill and built magnificent palaces. Emperors lived here in palaces called Domus. Caracalla and Geta did not get on well, but they both stayed in the same palace, The Domus Severiana. This imposing structure was located southeast of Capitoline Hill and the Colosseum.

The carriage arrived at the Palatine Hill in the twilight. You and the General barely spoke the whole way, both of you feeling tense in different ways. He was nervous because he had brought you with him, and you were worried that you would not be able to help Geta in time. You needed to know what kind of poisoning it was. You were almost an expert, but you weren't sure how well you could do without Vicius, your uncle. If you do something wrong and he dies, you could be in trouble. The General was aware of this, and it was worrying him.

Domus Severiana had no entrance from the street because it did not face the street. Security issues were undoubtedly the reason. In fact, all you could see were high walls, and not a single window facing the street. As the carriage stops, Acacius looked at you directly. "Put on your cloak and wait until Octavius arrives."

You nodded and did as he said, pulling your cloak over your head.

"I'll check on the situation, and if there's nothing left to do by the time I leave, you must return to the villa. Do you understand?"

"Understood."

Acacius looked at you one last time before turning towards the giant door of the courtyard, concern on his face. "I hope," you murmured as you looked behind him. "I hope you don't die, brother. And I hope I can help you."

A moment later, you heard the sound of a horse's hooves hitting the ground as it ran and you turned your head in that direction.  Octavius pulled the reins of his horse and stopped it right next to the chariot. He leapt down and regarded the scene with a keen eye.

"My Lady," he greeted, "I wonder if there might be any news?"

You shook your head. "The General is inside," you replied.

He nodded, "I'll see if he needs me," and went inside.

It was dark now, and you were eager to get moving. You were ready to get out of the cart and rush inside, but when you saw Octavius coming out of the courtyard, you decided to wait it out.

"The general said you should leave," he said quietly. From the look on his face, you could tell he didn't agree with him.

"Is it too late for him?” You swallowed hard.

“He said he doesn't look well. I think it's his last moments.”

You frowned at him. "I can save him, just like I saved the general. You know that, don't you?"

He gave you a look that seemed to say he was in agreement. But he was just following orders from his General. “Acacius ordered me to accompany you to the villa.”

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, stood up, and jumped out of the carriage. Octavius stopped you by extending his big arm out in front of you.

"The General's orders are clear, my lady."

"I cannot let him die like this. If this gets out of Rome, Our enemies will undoubtedly spread the rumour that the Roman Emperor died of a simple poison and did not even have a skilled medicus to cure him. This would be an attack that could potentially weaken the Empire, and we can not allow that to happen.”

Octavius was too stunned by your words.

‘My lady, you speak more wisely than the emperors, you are full of surprises indeed.’ He smiled.

First of all, as a medicus who saves lives, it never felt right to do nothing and let him die. You were determined to do it, even if he was not your brother, even if he was not the emperor. As a patient who needs help.

“I'll answer to the General,” you said to reassure Octavius. “But, sir, we don't have much time.”

Octavius nodded, then inhaled deeply. “Even if you answer him, he'll punch me in the face for sure.”

You walked with him to the gate of the courtyard, he gestured to the guards waiting at the gate, one of the guards knocked the gate with fist without turning his body, squinting at you, and the large gold-embroidered gate swung open. 

The main courtyard was enormous. As you entered, you were greeted by a rectangular fountain with a motif of four peltas (shields used by the famous female Amazon warriors). The walls were decorated with frescoes, the courtyards and colonnaded porticoes were covered with elegant marble, and statues adorned the fountain and porticoes. Some of those statues were of family members. The biggest and most central one was of Septimius Severus himself, your father.

As you passed the statue, you took a quick look around, not knowing who it was, and made your way to the second courtyard. A large fountain and the same columns stood in this courtyard, but the marble was a different color. It was a truly beautiful sight. As soon as you crossed from this courtyard to the back courtyard, Acacius, who was talking to Julia Domna, noticed you and scowled. Julia Domna was looking sad, too. On the upper balcony, probably in the part of the emperor's chambers, you saw a lot of movement. Slaves were in a rush.

The Empress was clearly surprised, "That girl."

Acacius glanced at Octavius and his face clearly showed his growing tension.

"If I can help, Your Highness," you said, bowing your head.

"How can you help? General, what does that mean?" she looked at him with a frown.

You answered before he could, the whole thing was so unnecessary, especially when time was so limited.

"I know I'm a woman and I know it sounds ridiculous, but I'm an experienced medicus. I'm here to save our emperor. Please allow me, highness.”

“Is that true, General?” She asked, her eyes on you.

Acacius squinted at you and then looked at at her and nodded. “She is the one who saved me highness, so, yes it is true.”

“But Medici has already said there is nothing more that can be done,” she said in a tearful voice.

"My Lady, we're wasting time here. Please take me to him and see what I can do to help.”

Julia nodded, looking very desperate.

“Well, he needs all the help he can get, you must be skilled to heal the General, but I trust him not you, not yet, don’t forget that.”

You noticed the General clench his jaw.

"Come with me now,” Julia gesturing with her hand.

While you were all going up the stairs, following her behind, Caracalla, who was leaning on the balustrade in front of Geta's room on the second floor, watching everything meanwhile.

“Lover, Slave, Medicus, so many things hiding under that beautiful face of yours,’ he said sarcastically. You nodded at him but didn’t like the smile on his face. There was no hint of sadness in his eyes. He seemed far from sad.

Julia stared at him with determination. "We'll do what we can, won't we? For your brother.”

“All the medici have already done enough, mother,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Or don't you trust my own medicus?”

You wanted to slap him in the face as he was standing in the doorway stalling you. How could he talk so carelessly when every second was precious? He might not love his brother much, but his behaviour was leading you to suspect him and you hated it.

Julia gently touch his shoulder. “I trust him as much as I trust you, my handsome boy. You trust me, don't you?”

Whatever Caracalla sensed in her voice, he didn't like it, and his eyes sharpened. But he quickly recovered his expression and smiled. “Hurry, then,” he said, pointing with both arms to the door leading to Geta's room.

Julia looked at you, "Just you." You saw the General before entering the Geta’s room. He was visibly nervous.

You were certain he'd give you a scolding when you got back to the villa.

When Julia led you through the door, you saw the golden dressing screen first. Opposite, was a large table with kinds of fruits and flowers on it and two chairs. Just beyond, in the opposite corner of the large window, where the golden curtains hung, was a large bed, covered with a red veil so thin that you could see the emperor lying on his bed.

An old man, who was undoubtedly the medicus Caracalla mentioned just ago, looked at you with curiosity.

“Your Highness,” he nodded, his eyes were on you.

“She will check our emperor,” she said firmly.

“But this is a girl and-“ 

“I said, I want her to check my son’s condition.” Her voice was sharp.

“Yes, highness.” The man bowed his head and stepped aside, squinting at you, Julia crossed her arms and gestured at you. You turned your head to Geta, lying motionless on his bed, a thick satin sheet draped over him. He was wearing a red tunic with gold embroidery, he seemed delirious, his golden blond hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his skin was almost white, you quickly lifted the bedclothes, took his arm in your hands and examined it. It was swollen, red, his neck had the same symptoms, it was definitely plant poisoning.

“Hemlock?” You murmured.

The man opened his eyes wide. “But how-“

Julia was surprised too. “Yes, they said that. Now that you've realised that quickly, you can make an antidote, can't you?”

You put your hand on Geta's forehead and checked his body temperature. It was burning. "We need to lift the covers now," you said, and grabbed the covers with your hands, lifting them completely off him and pushing them to the other side of the bed.

“I asked you if you could make an antidote!”

You ignored her question and asked, "How long has he been like this? Has there been any vomiting? Was it something he ate or drank?"

She froze for a second, thinking quickly. "It was after dinner. He threw up a lot, yes, and then he fainted. He was delirious."

"That's good. The vomiting," you said, checking his neck and lips with your fingers. You parted Geta's lips, still and pale. There was a little bit of food in his mouth, on the edge of his tongue, and you put it in a clean cloth and put it aside. They didn't even make him drink some water? “He needs to drink water and-“

“But highness, he should not be uncovered like this, he will get cold, we need to keep his body warm,” the other medicus interrupted you angrily. Julia frowned.

You rolled your eyes and stood up. “Sir, you obviously have knowledge, but I don't think you've ever dealt with hemlock poisoning before. His body is fighting with poison right now, so we need to lower his body temperature. In fact, we need to get as much fresh air in here as possible. Please be sure open all the windows and I need clean water and cloths.”

“You heard her!” Julia shouted at the emperor's slaves. Then she turned to the other medicus.

“Is it true? That you've never encountered hemlock poisoning before and you've never treated it and you didn't tell me?” Her voice was so sharp and loud that he trembled with fear.

“You've been living in this palace as a medicus for years, maybe even longer than this girls age. But you can't do anything against this poison. Even this girl knows more than you. And you have the nerve to tell me that my son doesn't have much time left?”

“Your Majesty! I did not want to upset you-”

“Get out!” She barked.

Then she turned to you. “Antidote?”

“No, there is no antidote for hemlock,” you shook your head. “But I can get the poison out of his body in the most undamaged way possible.”

Julia was confused. “So you mean I can hope that, my son won't die?”

You smiled at her. “No, at least not tonight, highness. I ask you to trust me.”

She nodded, “Do whatever it takes to heal him,” her eyes filled with tears.

When the water and cloth you asked for arrived soon, you put them on the bedside table, dipped the cloth into it, squeezed it a little, put the cloths on his forehead and neck, and took your medical bottles out of your bag.

“What are you doing?” Julia asked curiously.

“I'll have to make an herbal mixture to-.”

“Didn't a plant already poisoned him?”

“Yes, but to reduce and neutralize this poison… Can I use the kitchen? I'll need to examine the food he ate for dinner and the drink he drank.”

“All right, come with me.”

You left him alone on the bed and went out with Julia while the slaves opening all the windows one by one, as you'd asked. The General and Octavius were waiting just outside the door. Caracalla was the first to notice you.

He approached you two, looking you over, and then turned to his mother. “Mother?"

"He'll be fine. Let's pray for him," she said, putting his arm around his son. Then she called to one of the slaves, "Take her to the kitchen," pointing at you. Acacius was looking at you, but Julia stepped between you. "General Acacius, I need you to do something for me. Come with me," she commanded.

Reluctantly he had to go with her and he must be hated it.

You called Octavius over as you and the General were walking in different directions. The slaves went ahead and showed you the way to the kitchen.

"Sir, I need your help with something.”

“Of course, what is it?”

"I was going to ask you to help me in the kitchen. We need to be quick."

Octavius nodded. He trusts you.

"Do you know where the empress and the general have gone?"

"She trusts the General, so she is having him question those who cooked and served the emperor's food. But what I don't understand. Everyone must have eaten the same food, right? Why is only Emperor Geta poisoned?”

“Thats why we're here, to find out.”

There was no one in the kitchen because they had gathered all the cooks and other slaves in the other courtyard like he said.

You asked one of the slaves to help you get the bowl Geta had eaten from and the others. He went to the dining hall and brought the bowls that the other medicus had examined. You took a piece from Geta's bowl and put it on another plate.

You took a quick sniff, without bringing your nose too close. You knew that the smell of hemlock was very pungent, but this didn't smell like it. That was a bit unexpected. You put the remains from the corner of Geta's mouth on the other side of the plate and compared them. It was clear that he had eaten from this bowl. You quickly looked at the remains of the food in the bowls and cauldrons where the others had eaten. They were all the same and there was no sign of poison in any of them.

"It wasn't what he ate," you murmured. "It's what he drank," your eyes locked onto the wine cups.

Octavius and the other slaves looked at each other, watching you curious to see what you'd do next. You looked at the slaves as you compared the cups. "Can someone tell me which is the emperor's drinking cup? Has a new wine jar been opened recently?"

They exchanged glances and murmured.

"Does she mean the one that that slave just opened today?"

"Maybe."

“Explain please?" you asked.

“One of the slaves spilled the wine during the drinks service, the emperors got pretty mad and told him to bring a new one. He ran to the kitchen and came back with a new decanter.

"And he poured it into Emperor Geta's cup first, didn't he?" you asked. Everything seemed to be cleared up, although you still didn't know what exactly had poisoned him.

"Show us that decanter now!" Octavius barked.

The slave girl nodded and ran into the dining hall to do as he said. A moment later she came running back with the decanter, but you got angry when she spilled some on the floor.

"Be careful! It must be poisoned!”

You quickly poured the wine into a cup and took a sample. The smell was a bit unusual, but you were relieved when your nose recognized it, you encountered before, back Egypt.

"Amanita muscaria," you said quietly. "He mixed it in with his wine."

"What's that?"

You glanced up at Octavius. "It's a poisonous mushroom, made into an herbal extract and mixed into his wine. It's not an easy process, and not everyone can do it.”

You remembered the medicus from earlier. But you had better things to do right now than to blame him. The next step is to remove the poison from Geta's body. To do that, you had to make a natural antibiotic. You got the ingredients out of your bag and started making it right away, but then you had a sudden realization: everyone who cooks and serves food is about to die.

“Sir, please inform the General, I don't think it's the other slaves or cooks’ fault.”

Octavius nodded and turned on his heel and rushed out. You were praying as you making the herbal concoction with the help of the slaves standing beside you. While not as potent as hemlock, mushroom poison was still quite deadly, especially when combined with alcohol. But fortunately, unlike it, it is possible to make an antidote.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally finished the concoction and headed for the courtyard to go upstairs in rush. The other slaves ran behind you, stumbling as they tried to keep up with you on the stairs. You went into the room, put the bowl on Geta's bedside, and leaned over to check on him. You had so much you wanted to say, so much that hurt, but as a medicus, you were used to focusing on doing your job properly.

All you could think about was getting him better as soon as possible. You gave him the herbal concoction to drink with his slaves help. His breathing was weak, but you made him drink it all. You bowed your head when Caracalla came into the room. He was angry.

"Did you ask them to interrogate my slave?"

That slave who served Geta belonged to him, no surprise.

"He was poisoned by what he drank, not what he ate, and that makes him the prime suspect."

"Are you accusing me, you whore? Who do you think you are?”

He barked quite loudly, and at that moment, as you looked into his eyes, which were glowing with anger, you knew for sure that he was responsible for this. You forced yourself to remain calm.

"Never, Your highness. I would never accuse you of something your slave did."

He came closer to you, his eyes filled with menace. "Once my brother's long gone, all your show of healing will be in vain, and you'll be the one who answer for it, I’ll make sure of that."

You want to blame everyone but yourself, you cunt, you thought as you looked into his eyes.

You were both startled by a sudden deep cough. When you turned to look at him, Geta was propped up on his elbow on the bed, staring at you.

"Who dares to make so much noise at my bedside?"

"Highness!" You couldn't believe your eyes to see him awake.

Geta raised his eyebrows, squinting. "You? Am I dreaming? Must be seductive one,” he smirked.

“Brother!” Caracalla rushed to his side and leaned over the edge of the bed. He was certainly a very good actor, you had to hand it to him.

“What happened to me? What is she doing here?” Geta was looking at you with his pale but alive face. Seeing him like that a proud smile spread across your face.

“Don't you remember?” Caracalla asked curiously.

“I remember I threw up like damn fountain, after drinking the disgusting wine, and then it was a bit dark,” he murmured, pursing his lips.

“My son!”

Julia burst into the room. The slaves must have informed her immediately. With a gentle touch, she led Caracalla to sit on the edge of the bed and hugged Geta. Caracalla stood up and crossed his arms.

As you looked at them from where you stood, you felt envious that his mother was alive so she could worry for him, hug him, kiss him. You never had that chance and never will.

“You are indeed a good medicus, what will you become next, I wonder.” The implication in Caracalla's voice sent shivers down your spine, you could almost imagine what he would do when he found out the truth about you.

Julia stood up and came to you, and for the first time you saw sincerity in her eyes.

“You gave me back my son's life, how should I reward you?”

“I have only fulfilled my duty, Your Majesty.”

“How decent.” Caracalla muttered.

“My head is still spinning,” Geta gasped, lying back on the bed.

“You should get some more rest your highness, and keep drinking the concoction through the night,” you said as you looked at him.

Geta sniffed the concoction and a disgusted expression settled on his face. “This is the most disgusting shit I've ever smelled. What’s in it?”

Just as you were about to say, he silenced you by raising his hand. “Don't you dare tell me, I don't want to know.” Then covered his face with his arm and pointed at you with his other hand. “I am indebted to you. Provide her with whatever she desires, mother.”

"That is very kind of you, but my sole desire is to see you recover," you said sincerely.

Caracalla laughed out loud which made you startled, Julia rolled her eyes, Geta laughed too.

What was so funny?

Geta turned his head to you as he was lying on the bed. “I get better why the General is so fond of you.”

When you heard his name, you looked at the door, but he wasn't there.

"Let's give highness some space to rest," Julia said, gesturing to the door.

Caracalla pursed his lips, and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn't happy at all. Julia took your arm, you were a little startled but you stayed still. "Are you sure you don't want anything? Everything has a price, and everyone has something they want in return."

You looked at her face as you walked down the hall together. "I just want good days for Rome, Your Highness. That's all I want.”

“It will be so, since you saved our emperor,” she smiled.

You were beginning to warm to her, but something inside you kept telling you were putting yourself in danger.

“I see you live with him as the General's medicus. Is it true you saved him in Egypt?”

You swallowed, but you had to tell the truth.

“Yes.”

“You lived there? He brought you here?”

You nodded.

“Do you have a name?”

“Highness!”

Macrinus came running down the hallway towards you. His eyes met yours, and you knew instantly that he carried a warning message.

"I'm truly sorry for what happened. I came as soon as I heard. Could you please let me know how our emperor is doing now?”

"He's better now, thanks to this girl. It seems your and Caracalla's medicus wasn't as good as this girl."

Macrinus' expression made it clear he was not pleased.

“Thankfully, he's alive. We should probably offer a sacrifice to the Gods.”

"I'll do that first thing tomorrow, but I'm not sure you're being completely sincere. You haven't called off the council meeting tomorrow, have you?"

"I would if it wasn't so important, but I thought Emperor Caracalla would lead it. He agreed."

From the way he looked at you, you knew immediately that the meeting was about you.

"If I could speak to His Majesty-"

"No, he will rest. Caracalla is also very tired, maybe you should come tomorrow. It has been a very hard night.”

"Have the perpetrators been punished? Who is responsible?" Macrinus was very curious, which made you also suspect him.

“The General is dealing with that,” she said with cruel smile.

You felt a pang of guilt for having forgotten him amidst the chaos.

"Your Highness, if I may, I would like to ensure that the General and I have completed our duties here.”

"I perceive that you are fatigued; they shall accompany you. You may leave.”

“Thank you.”

You nodded to them and hastened to the general, disregarding Macrinus' disapproving gaze.

As you walked briskly towards the main courtyard, you thought it would be a good idea to get out of there with the general as soon as possible. You assumed he was upset that you hadn't listened to him. When you passed the tall pink marble column with gold inlay on the sides and came out into the main courtyard, you saw Octavius first. He was standing opposite the general and looking down at something. Then you saw the general himself, with his back to you. To see what he was looking at, you had to get past the stunted trees. Then, as you got closer, you noticed the strong smell of iron and then saw the sword in the general's hand. You were taken aback to realize that the smell was of blood dripping from his sword onto the ground.

Then you saw people in slave clothes lying on the ground, including Caracalla's medicus. You were petrified. Julia and Caracalla must have had the General do their dirty work. When Octavius looked up at you, the General turned around and his eyes met yours. There was blood on his sandals, his leather armor, and his neck. His face was expressionless. When you saw him like that, you felt fear and horror. But when his expression changed and he looked sad, you threw all your fears aside and approached him. He pulled back and turned his head away. He wiped his sword on a rag Octavius handed him and sheathed it.

"You saved him," he said, wiping the blood away from his leather armor.

"Yes, the empress said we could head out now,” your voice broke.

It wasn't just that they killed these people without a trial. They even had the General do this dirty job, and it made you angry. You forced yourself to ignore the people who were lying on the ground, lifeless.

You didn't like the way he avoided looking at you though, so you went over and took his hand, pulling him closer. "We're done here, General. Shall we go?" You touched his face with your hand and turned him towards you. His brown eyes shone like gems in the light of torches on the courtyard walls.

"Wait for me in the carriage. I'm not done yet,” he said coldly.

"I'll take care of it, sir," Octavius said, clearly worried about his friend. "Please go to your villa and rest."

"You heard him. I want to go. I'm exhausted," you said, tugging on his arm, but he was like a statue and wouldn't budge.

Acacius turned his head to him.

Was he ignoring you?

“Thank you, my friend.”

But he must not have liked you tugging on his arm, so he grabbed your arm instead, you liked the way he touched you with a protective instinct. As you strode out of the courtyard, your gaze fixed on the general's face, you felt a sharp, piercing pain in your heart. You were not used to seeing him like this. You would have done anything to see him smile again.

 

—-

 

It was after midnight when the carriage arrived at the villa, there was no moonlight tonight, it was quite dark. The General was silent the whole time, he joined you in very short sentences when you told him what you had done to save Geta. It was hard to tell if it was because he was angry with you or because he had to kill those people against his will. He was a man of justice and honor, it must have been hard for him, and you felt very sorry for him. You checked his beautiful face as you entered the courtyard of the Villa, still looks upset, it was getting unbearable. Without thinking, you stepped in front of him and put one arm around his waist and one around his neck and embraced him. You could feel the surface of the leather armor under your skin as you pressed your cheek against his chest.

“I'm sorry you had to do that.”

"I was on the verge of doing more,” he said in a sharp tone, almost as sharp as his sword.

You gazed up at his face to ascertain what he was talking about. In the gloom of the night, with only the light from the torch on the wall of the courtyard, the color of his eyes appeared to be very dark. “If you couldn't save him, she was ready to kill you. She was so mad and was willing to spill blood. I made my plan right in that moment. I was as ready as she was."

You swallowed hard, wondering if he was talking about a suicide plan.

“To her, you saved yourself by saving his son. That's it. She put Caracalla's medicus life on the line without a second thought. She could have done the same thing to you," he hissed.

You felt guilty when you sensed the tremor in his voice.

“I'm sorry, I disobeyed you.”

“You'd better be,” he muttered.

You took a step back and looked at him. Finally his expression had softened, and you felt a sense of relief.

“But you were going to kill the empress and the emperors just for a slave girl?” Raising your eyebrows curiously.

He smirked. “Wasn't it you who shout in my face that you were not a slave?”

You bit your lip and gave a shy smile. “I did. I’m sorry for that too.”

“And you still didn’t tell me who you are.”

“I will, but, with all due respect you haven't answered my question, General.”

He lowered his head and looked you in the eye. “Not just for a slave, I'd kill them all for you even if I don’t know who you are.”

He couldn't have been more seductive with that sharp tone, your heart began to race. But no matter how tempting it was that he was ready to kill anyone for you, you couldn't get out of your mind what Macrinus had said before. You couldn't bear to make the General look guilty when he knew nothing about it.

“Can I tell you tomorrow? I'm really tired. It's been a long day and night."

“It certainly was. Fair enough. Tomorrow then.”

 

——

 

The next day, you woke up feeling so tired you didn't want to get out of bed. You had a lot of bad dreams about the General. You also thought about Caracalla's attitude, how ready he was to kill you, Julia's cruelty, and what she made the General do. It was all torturing you, and you didn't know how to deal with it. You were sure that even if Geta recovered thanks to you, he wouldn't support the General against Senate. There was nothing but tension between those two. Macrinus was so keen for you to introduce the congress tomorrow that he didn't even care that the emperor almost died. You knew that man's determination well enough. He wasn't going to back down from this, no matter what. He was only interested in power. He wasn't helping you because he cares about you.

He was using you as a pawn to achieve his goal. And you were aware of that. It's possible that everything he said about your father was untrue. Who knows what will happen to you when you show up in the council meeting. Or the general. You hated being in the middle of everything and didn't want to put the general in danger, so you felt your heart ache as you forced yourself to admit that the only thing to do was to leave. You wanted to go home, to your old land, where no one could reach you. If you could be invisible like before, maybe everything would be as it should be and the general wouldn't do anything to put himself in danger. It was a dumb idea, though. You weren't the type to run away. The emperors and their mothers had already seen you, and your absence when Macrinus convened the senate would have been an admission that you had run away. They would find you no matter where you went. There was no escape.

No, that's not an option. With so few options on the table, it was down to just one. However, there was something you wanted to do before telling him who you were. Now that you know for sure how you feel about him. As Aya, you wanted to do something as his slave. Yes, you were ready, maybe not physically yet, but you were absolutely sure as mentally.

A moment later the door opened and Norell walked in.

“Aya, are you okay? Master told me to check in on you.”

You sat up to look at her.

“I’m alright, nothing to worry about.”

“It's almost evening and you're still on the bed,” she complained.

Almost evening? Has it really been that long? Norell closed the door and came over.

“Or is it your moon? Do you want me to get you something warm?”

Fortunately, there were still a few days until then.

“No, I'm just a bit tired.”

“Yes, you came late last night, it was you who healed the emperor, but the master warned us to keep our mouths shut.”

“Well, I did what I could, yes. Is he all right?”

“The master? Yes, why?”

"Yesterday was a very tiring day for him and for me."

"He took his bath in the morning and then asked about you while he was eating, but he seemed fine."

Right, the bath.

"Shall we go to the bath today?" you asked her. You needed to take a bath before the night.

"Today? But I'm still bleeding, you know," she said, pursing her lips.

"Oh, right."

"But I don't think the master will mind you using the balneum," she said with a wink. "Is there any particular reason you wanted to take a bath today?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

When she saw you blush, a wide smile spread across her face.

"Ah, so tonight's the night?" She clapped her hands gleefully.

"Shhh, be quiet."

"No wonder you've been so pensive all morning."

You let out a deep sigh. She was right; you had definitely thought about it too, a lot.

"But you haven't eaten anything yet. Why not come with me and eat something in the kitchen?" "Then I'll help you take a bath.”

"I'm fortunate to have you," you said, smiling, hugging her, looking at her reddish-orange hair, which represented ginger, thinking about what would happen after you revealed yourself. You didn't want to lose her friendship.

As you were leaving the room, you were pretty surprised to see the General right outside the door. Was he about to knock?

“I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”

Norell bowed her head and walked away to leave you two alone, giggling meanwhile.

You ignored her and eyed him up and down. He was wearing a white tunic with gold leaf embroidery on the hems, a brown belt with embroidery of the same colour and pattern, and a red shawl over it, as if representing Mars himself, which was stunningly attractive. You tried to stay calm, but it was hard.

“I'm alright, well, I guess I'm still tired from yesterday.”

"I see. It must have been quite tiring for you. I didn't get a chance to ask you much yesterday because I was angry with you, but now I understand better how hard it was for you," he said in a soft, velvety tone.

He looked better than yesterday, the anger and sadness in his eyes were gone, and seeing him like this filled you with joy. It was so hard to wait till night.

"But you promised for today," he said, his voice gentle but insistent.

"Yes, if it's not too much to ask, could I come to your room tonight?”

Acacius' brown eyes met yours, first with a hint of surprise, then with a growing sense of excitement.

"You picked the perfect time to talk," he said with a smirk. You felt your cheeks flush, and at that moment, you felt a strange moisture between your legs. It was a new feeling for you, a combination of lust and desire. It was wonderful, full of life.

"I have to go for a while, but I'll be back tonight."

"May I ask where you're going?"

His smile faded but his expression was soft. “I need to see how the emperor, Geta, is doing. Other members of the senate are going to visit today. Sort of like a visit to see if he's still alive, I suppose.”

"Oh, I see. One more thing, I was wondering if I could use the balneum. Norell said she couldn't come to the baths and I didn't want to go by myself."

"Don't go," he said abruptly. "To the baths. I mean, never. The balneum is yours.”

“Thank you,” you said with a shy smile.

He took your hand and kissed the top of it.

"Enjoy your bath, wait for my return at night," he said almost commandingly, looking under his eyebrows.

He touched your cheek, where it was blushing, and gave you a gentle stroke. Then he walked out of the courtyard. Even though you felt a little abandoned by his leaving, you were pretty excited because you knew he was coming back, so now was the perfect time for a bath.

 

—-

 

Norell accompanied you to the balneum, where you had a long chat. Thanks to her and the hot water, you were almost relaxed, and now you had only one thing on your mind. After getting dressed in your room, you combed your hair and applied rose essence with your finger tips on your neck and hair. It was your favorite, helps you to stay calm, and it smells so nice.

It was almost night time but the General still hadn't returned, he had been gone a long time and you were getting worried. It was like bedtime for Norell and the other slaves. Cato, the General's squire, was waiting for his arrival in the courtyard. The water flowing from the fountain provided a soothing backdrop to the night, accompanied by the sounds of crickets. While you were playing with the water from the fountain, the black cat you had named Mau suddenly appeared and crossed between your feet, brushing its tail against your skin. She's been away for a while, and you missed her much.

You picked her up, thinking it would be a good idea to play with her for a while, but she quickly got out of your arms and jumped down. She went to the west side of the courtyard, where the General's chamber was, and meowed at you. It looked like she wanted to show you something. You were curious, so you went over to her. She meowed and ran past the door and into the garden where you first officially met the general. It was hard to keep up with her speed, but you rushed to open the door and enter the garden. She was licking the remains of food on the ground. She probably stole something from the kitchen and brought it here, but she must have still been hungry. Tullia usually shooed her off, so she probably came straight to you. You felt sorry for her, so you went to the kitchen to get her something.

You opened the door slowly and sneaked in. The kitchen was pretty tidy. You opened one of the food bowls, added some food, and closed the door. She started to meow louder and louder as she caught the scent.

“Sshh, you'll get us both caught,” you whispered.

You went back to the General's garden, afraid that Tullia would find a bowl on the floor in the morning and get angry. Mau ate all the food happily with a purr that made you smile. Once she was done, she licked herself clean with her paw and curled up next to you, ready to fall into a peaceful sleep. Unlike her, you were not so sleepy, you lay down on the grass to watch the stars, twinkle like jewels in the dark sky. It was mesmerizing.

"I hope you don't find yourself falling asleep there again."

You were startled by his voice. When did he arrive? You sat up and looked around. It was hard to see in the dark, so you looked up towards his balcony and noticed him. He was standing with his arms leaning on the balustrade, watching you from above. He had a wonderful smile on his face.

You stood up, quickly brushed your dress and hair with your hands and headed for the stairs. As you took each step, you felt your excitement and nervousness growing. When you got to the last step and were on the same level as him, he took his hands off the balustrade and looked at you.

You smiled when you realized from that distance that he was just as excited as you were. In the darkness of the night, in his white tunic, he shone like the stars in the sky, as if he had just descended to earth through them. As you approached him, he took a few steps towards you, never breaking eye contact. He closed the gap between you slowly, and you saw his dark brown eyes in a way you had never seen them before. They were dark but sparkling, full of desire, an open invitation to you that you couldn't refuse.

You stood there for a while, just speaking with your eyes. At first, you weren't sure how or what to do. You didn't know how to kiss. You'd never kissed anyone before, but you were eager to learn and you really wanted to touch his lips.

You reach up and pull his face closer to yours. You closed your eyes and tried to make your clumsy lips work, hoping that your kiss would be seen as acceptable. You brushed your lips against his and kissed his lower lip. Then you pulled back and looked at his face to see how he reacted. A gentle breeze came from his nose and between his lips, hitting your face.

Was he laughing? You probably looked a bit silly because it was your first kiss. You felt a bit embarrassed.

“My apologies, I've never kissed anyone before,” you murmured.

“Then you'll have to learn,” he said softly. “Allow me to teach you.”

He puts his hand under your chin to make you look up before kissing you. Then pressed his lips against yours with all the passion he has. And Gods! He was a very passionate man. You're so shocked that your first impulse is to reject him. But your slight push on his muscular shoulders doesn’t do anything to stop him. If anything, his kiss gains intensity.

He ventures a hand to your waist pulling you closer. When he started to lightly touch your lips with his tongue you parted your lips and let his tongue touch yours, not hurried but restrained. His tongue tasted like sweet wine, the sweet smell of his skin took your breath away, your blood raced, boiled under his lips. The way his mouth explores yours, the way he keeps rubbing his body against yours, all tells you to surrender to him. Instinctively you raised your arms to wrap them around his thick neck and tangled your fingers in his curly partially gray hair.

He broke the kiss and smirked. You were out of breath and surprised to find yourself in this situation. "You can stop me by saying no," he murmured while rubbing your earlobe with his nose. He pulled his head back gently, his eyes fixed on yours, waiting for your approval. You could see the passion in them.

“I’m afraid that,” he placing his hand on your chin and stroking with his thumb, “if we go any further, I may not be able to stop myself, and you should know, there's no turning back.”

The thought of it almost broke your heart, you wanted him more than anything, you were almost ready to beg him to kiss you again.

"Are you really certain about this?"

You were certain, and you wanted to throw yourself into his arms.

"I am, sir... Marcus." You took his other hand and placed it on your waist as if it belonged there. "I want to be yours.”

His face lit up with a gorgeous, radiant smile. Piercing you with his brown eyes, his huge hands land delicately on your hip and the contact is so intimate that you have to remember how to breathe. His low, deep voice sounds confident. “You have no idea how long I waited for you to say that.”

And before you can even react, he kisses you, but not as gently as before, much more eager, much more passionate. You completely given yourself to him with each deep, passionate kiss.

His long, thick fingers traced a path from your neck to the hollow of your back, then to the knot of the thin belt you had tied around your waist. You gasped as he quickly undid it, and you found yourself in his arms.

He lifted you so easily in his strong muscular arms, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest when the air hit your face as he carried you to his room. He set you down, near to his bed, you didn't break eye contact as he slowly undresses you, you were sure your cheeks were redder than ever. The dress falls to the floor and gathers around your feet. He pulls your hair aside to expose your neck and collarbone. The atmosphere in the room changes, and you realize your body is shaking. He must have noticed it too because the tenderness in his eyes turns into something else.

“You have a rare beauty,” he whispers, stroking your collarbone with his fingers, ”Your skin is like a pearl hidden in an oyster shell for me to open.”

When you averted your eyes from him, he cupped your chin in his hand and turned it toward him.  He scooped you up and lays you gently on the bed. The feel of the soft fabric against your skin is pleasant, but nothing compared to the sight of him standing over you and running his eyes up and down your body. At first you squirm shyly under his piercing gaze, his eyes screaming at you: You are so beautiful. I want you. This not only relaxes you, but also makes your body squirm with anticipation. Hot desire.

Your eyes widened when he took off his tunic, you had noticed how gorgeous his body was while he was bathing, but now it was even more impressive. A strong masculine chest, a muscular stomach and a perfect v line. The scars he has add to his rough beauty, perfect.

Marcus unhurriedly puts his knee on the bed and crawls over your body until he's standing over you. You weren't sure if he was trying to gauge your reaction or trying not to startle you with a sudden movement. He brought his face close to yours and began to run his lips along your neck and ear, his fingers caressing your shoulder to your collarbone, and then your arm.

“Don't be nervous, try to relax,” he whispered in your ear, and when his warm breath hit your face you were getting impatient. He was being too kind and you were grateful for that, but you wanted to be his, you wanted to know what it felt like.

Then he uses his weight to pin you to the bed. The feeling of bare skin against bare skin is incredible. You start rubbing your body against his, savoring the friction. The contact of his body against yours makes you shiver. It feels thrilling. Arousing.

His mouth eagerly finds yours and turns into an all-consuming kiss. Warm, eager lips slide down from your chin to your collarbone and down between your breasts, sucking your sensitive skin in their path. You've always tried to imagine what men's lips would feel like on your skin, but nothing could prepare you for this overwhelming wave of sensations. It feels better than you think. Your back arches and you find yourself wanting more, more of his hand, more of his eager mouth. He stops and stares at you as he hovers over your breasts. You squirm in impatient anticipation. What is he going to do?

He runs his nose and mouth around your breasts, his hot breath caressing your sensitive skin. Marcus blows lightly on one nipple before bringing it to his hot mouth. He sucks gently at first, making you tingle all over. When his mouth presses on your nipple with long, deep, almost wild sucking movements, the sensation is almost unbearable. You moaned, writhing with pleasure beneath him, his mouth slides down to your stomach, torturing its way south until it reaches your ankles. Then he slowly slides up your leg until he's licking your inner thigh.

He keeps your body arched as his lips repeat the sensual orbit up and down your other leg. He lifts your leg and pulls you down a little to better position it, puts it on his shoulder. You love that he is so strong and uses his strength to move your body. He runs his warm tongue alternately over both your thighs and slowly approaches the top of your thighs.

He uses his strong hands to spread your legs, leaving your most sensitive area ready and well exposed to his tongue. A sudden flush of embarrassment makes you raise your arm to shield your eyes as he takes a good look at your most intimate parts. Marcus grasps your arm, pulling it back. "Don’t be embarrassed,” he murmurs. “So beautiful.”

He hums into your folds, making pleasure run through your body. His erection sears your skin, making you aware that he’s getting pleasure from driving you crazy with his mouth.

He kisses the area softly; he flips his tongue and sucks you sensitive lips gently. Relentlessly.

And his tongue finds your most sensitive spot. You gasp, writhe with pleasure as your legs stiffen. You cry out, exchanging your fluttering, flaming tongue for hungry lips. This pleasure is more than you can take. Your muscles tense, your toes curl. You didn't want it to stop, but it was becoming too much. Your insides begin to tremble. Finally he increases the pressure of his suction on your clit. Pleasure, scorching, pure, exquisite pleasure, overwhelms you and you explode. You try to muffle the vocal expressions of your pleasure by biting your lower lip, but he parted your lips with the tip of his finger.

“Let me hear you,” he says as he gently kisses your lips and chin.

Still on his knees, he takes you in his big arms and embraces you. He kisses you sweetly as you slowly begin to descend from Elysium.

He murmurs satisfyingly. “It’ll be less painful now that you’re so ready for me.” He places soft kisses on your shoulders. “Do you want me to continue?”

You pressed your forehead to his muscular chest and nodded.

He gently lays you on the bed once more, you look at his erection nervously. Like the rest of his body, it is large, hard, and beautiful.

He leans to kiss you and you forget that you're nervous. In a swift move, he puts his hands on your knees, bending them, spreading them apart gently.

“Look at me.”

You obey. The look on his face is hungry, almost predatory, as he settles between your legs.

You gasp when you feel your Marcus -your General- slowly rubbing against your folds. Coating the tip of his erection in your wetness. You squirm under his torture.

Still keeping your knees spread apart, he bends his body to kiss your mouth. “Even with your incredibly wet response, this will hurt. Tell me when it becomes too much.”

You feel him at your entrance for what feels like an eternity, enjoying the feeling of his erection rubbing your most sensitive spots.

“Surrender,” he commands while gently kissing your face, sensually sliding his hands all over your legs. “Relax.”

You take deep breaths in and out as he kisses first your mouth, then your nipples. He pushes the thick first inch of himself against your tight virgin walls and opens you up. You moan at this foreign sensation and open your eyes wide.

You don't want to say out loud that you don't want him to go deeper, but he reads your body, stops moving and focuses on satisfying the rest of your body while half buried inside you.

His hands have never been as hot on your skin as they are now. He leaves traces on your upper body and makes your body writhe in pleasure. He worships you. He stretches you. He moves slowly, constantly pausing to let your body adjust to him. You breathe sharply, your eyes locked. Your fingernails dig into his back as he starts to penetrate further into you, the pain ripping through your body as you spread to swallow his erection.

Marcus speaks into your neck, his warm breath tingling your skin. “Don't be tense,” he commands in a deep, husky voice that melts you with desire. “Relax, Aya.” He soothes your pain with a long kiss and you open your eyes and feel yourself relax. You love to see him taking your virginity, his beautiful eyes closed on the side of your neck, your body lying vulnerable beneath him.

When he finally enters you, he lifts his head and looks you up and down, running his hands through your golden hair and looking into your eyes. His pupils dilate. There is a mixture of triumph and tenderness in his eyes.

“You look gorgeous sprawled beneath me.” His breathing is ragged.

You stay like that for a long time, looking into each other's eyes. Despite the discomfort, you have never felt so close to him and you feel your love for him growing. Similar feelings seem to be burning inside him. The way he is looking at you right now is a combination of admiration, love and lust. You wouldn't change this moment for anything.

When he feels you are ready, Marcus slowly pulls back, allowing you both to enjoy the painful, exquisite friction. He pushes forward again and you scream at the top of your lungs. The pain is back and you can't decide if this is more pleasure or more pain. All you know is that you don't want him to stop.

A wild growl rises from deep in your throat as he pulls back once more. He groans and slowly thrusts again. And again. Each time in a slow, sensual rhythm. Each time less disturbing and more delicious.

He seems to control himself not to speed up. But it certainly was, Marcus could feel the beast inside him, the beast that was screaming to be released, next time, he thought, not now. His hands leave your knees and grasp your head and kisses you.

It's all too much. The tenderness. The feeling of fullness, the searing warmth of your bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. The thought that even though he's taking his time with you, he's still hard enough to make you feel like you're his. Beads of sweat cover his handsome face. His wheezing breaths on your neck tells you it won't last long.

Your walls are closing more tightly around him now. You feel him trembling. You feel him being released, calling out to you, emptying himself. His sounds of pleasure are music to your ears.

Marcus stays inside you for a while, breathing hard against the side of your neck. You feel his smile on your skin.

When he finally pulls away, it hurts. Both physically and emotionally. You already miss the warm connection between your bodies. He kisses you again and pulls you against his chest.

This whole experience was incredible and unlike anything you have ever experienced before. Every touch, every sound, you felt his love spreading through your whole body, mind and soul. Even after you left, you will always remember him as the man who made this moment so special. And you feel so grateful for that. You adore him right now and you know that you would do anything for him.

And you will for sure. You will do your best to avoid any misunderstanding or damage to his reputation. At that moment you made a firm decision.

You were sure he wouldn't like it, would even be angry, but you had to do it anyway. Your eyelids felt heavy as you felt the warm breeze from the balcony against your skin, Marcus must have fallen asleep too, lying motionless with his muscular arms around you. You fell into a sweet sleep as you pressed your ear against his chest to listen his heartbeat.

 

——

 

When you woke up you felt a pressure between your legs, right in the center of your womanhood. Also feeling sore, heavy, and groggy. But you tried to move, even though it was difficult. It was still dark outside, you didn't know how long you had slept, but now you had to get up and move to do the other thing you had wanted to do for so long. But Marcus' thick arms were wrapped around you like a cage. Slowly you raised his arm and tried to slip away. He moved a little but didn't open his eyes, he was still asleep, thankfully.

As you got out of bed you felt wetness between your legs and turned around to look at the sheets. They were quite wet, and a red liquid had spread like spilled wine. You felt the blood boiling under your cheeks. You pressed the part of the sheet between your legs, but was that all? All those fears were for this? A triumphant smile spread across your face. You were sure to feel different now, like you were reborn. After all, from tomorrow there would be no more Aya. You picked up your dress from the floor, quickly put it on and went to the General's wooden chest, the letter was still there. Careful not to make a sound, you pushed aside the blank papers and other papyrus and reached for it. As you held it in your hands and looked at it, then you looked over at Marcus, who was sleeping peacefully on the bed. You wished you could give it to him yourself and have him open it in front of you, but you couldn't be sure of his reaction. You stood up and approached the bed, leaned over and put the letter on the dry side of the sheet so he would see it when he woke up.

“Forgive me, Marcus,” you whispered.

But you felt you had to do it, to go to your brother Geta before the day of the meetingand tell him everything, yes it sounded stupid, but you were leaving the letter in good hands, the General’s. And that was your assurance.

For some reason you trusted Geta more in Macrinus. Maybe if you tell him about Macrinus' plans he would be on your side, but it was just a hope, a desperate hope. You didn't want to put Marcus in that kind of danger, knowing that he would be there to defend you and oppose them. Maybe he wouldn't, but no matter what, you were going to go first instead of facing them at the council meeting, yes, that was your final decision.

After lingering on Marcus' face and beautiful body with your eyes for the last time, you left the room. Your chest tightened with pain, it hurt more than between your legs.

Love is not the solution to everything. But by accepting love and fighting for it, you gave yourself a reason to hope. Leaving him as Aya to meet him again with your new name and your new self. Septimia Aurelia.

 

 

 

Chapter 5: The Council

Notes:

Hi, guys I did some research on Rome and realized that they didn't use the word princess. instead, they use rarely: filia regis so I mentioned in the story. But I will use princess word to make it easier.
I will show Geta softer than he looks in the trailers, but not much obviously.
In history Caracalla kills Geta so I am writing my fic according to real history places, and tradition, events.
if you have any advice let me know, thank you for all your support, so enjoy the episode...

 

Si scio quid sit amor, propter te est.

If I know what love is, it is because of you.

H.B.

 

Road…

The streets of Rome were fairly tranquil at night, in comparison to the bustling activity that characterizes the city during the day. It was particularly the case with the roads leading out of the city and into more remote areas. The general's villa was situated on one of these remote roads, and it was a somewhat lengthy journey to reach the city on foot. It might have been a good idea to use a horse or cart to traverse this road. But you were determined to continue on your journey, despite the discomfort you felt. You voiced your concerns to yourself and even considered turning back. You would have been pleased to rest in Marcus' bed, next to his warm body, his strong arms.  Yet, you were worried that you might regret not going ahead with your plan if you didn't do it. Even though you had these concerns, you decided to keep walking. As you got closer to the entrance to the big city, you suddenly noticed what sounded to be footsteps behind you.

You were reluctant to turn your head to see what was happening because a shiver ran through your whole body. It was as if the darkness of the night, which had been your friend a moment ago, had now become your enemy. Sounds, shadows and endless dirt roads were now his companions. When you started running, your legs were not as strong as you had hoped, and you experienced more discomfort than you had anticipated. Nevertheless, you ran with all your strength to reach the stone roads.

Subsequently, upon noticing your breathing becoming more rapid, you decided to take a moment to catch your breath. You were somewhat surprised but grateful when you realised that you were no longer being followed. Upon reaching the stone streets, you were somewhat reassured, but on the other hand, you felt a pang of sadness because you were further away from Marcus. The morning was fast approaching, with dawn on the horizon. From your observation point at the foot of the Venus statue in one corner of the street, you were clinging to the marble at the very end of the column and looking at the city panorama ahead, attempting to calculate the direction of Palatine Hill. The Colosseum is in a great spot, right in the center and visible from all sides. It's a bit of a landmark. So, it made sense to adjust the route to go forward and to the right. You still had a way to go, so you kept walking. You never expected it to be so difficult.

It's particularly when you're passing through these streets, places you've passed before, that your memories start to haunt you. It's as if these streets, which you used to pass by horse and cart, have now turned against you, becoming your enemy's friend. After a few quiet, dark streets, you stopped to rest under the triumphal arch. As you drove under the arch, you noticed something you hadn't seen before and were surprised.

The colossal statue of a former emperor that you had seen it before, but you hadn't had a chance to look at the inscription.

‘Imperator Caesar Lucius Septimius Severus Pertinax Augustus’

Your knees gave way, and you found yourself unable to stand. The stone pavements felt cold against your skin, but you remained still. As you gazed at the statue of your father, you found yourself thinking that perhaps things might have turned out differently if he had been there with you. You had never had the opportunity to witness first-hand what kind of an emperor he was, but from what you had heard, he had been quite successful. You spoke to him, your gaze fixed on his stone eyes, and wished he had heard you: “Father, my lord, I have made my decision. I have been thinking since I learnt about the letter. I came here even though you warned me, even though I knew it would be hard. My heart hurts, father, but I am not afraid. I met love, and I am not going to lose it. I love him so much. I know you hear me, and I know you understand. I am not angry with you. In fact, I am grateful. I met my brothers. You were right about Caracalla. Provide guidance on Geta. I saved him, Father, and I'm ready to face whatever comes next. I know you're with the Gods now, so I'm asking you to help me. I'll do whatever it takes for Rome. Open my eyes and ears, give me strength.”

You wiped away your tears and remained in a seated position for a period of time. However, when the cold became unbearable, you began to shiver. Before standing, you heard the distant cry of a horse, followed by the sound of hooves striking the ground. You wrapped your cloak around yourself tightly, burying your hair and face within it. The sound of hooves echoing in the silence of the night only served to heighten your nervousness.

As the horse drew nearer, you became aware of a slight tremor in the ground beneath your feet, caused by the horse's hooves striking it. You turned your head and observed a man who clothed in a dark cloak.

'My lady,' he greeted you.

When you looked at him, you felt a little surprised and perhaps a little uneasy, and said nothing. He opened his cloak and jumped down from his horse and approached you, still holding on to his horse's harness. The horse snorted noisily and you involuntarily took a few steps back.

"It is imperative that you come with me, as the situation is too perilous for you to remain here at this hour.”

"Who are you that I should agree to accompany you? Was it you who followed me previously?”

He bowed his head and replied, "Yes, my lady. I am a slave of Master Macrinus and I must take you to him."

You narrowed your eyes. ”What if I decline your offer?”

The man laughed, 'He thought you would say that. He said if she doesn't want to come, bring her by force, before she does something to hurt herself. Don’t let her to do, so.’

It was your time to laugh, 'How thoughtful of him. Tell him I appreciate the advice, but I have somewhere else to be right now.’

As soon as you turned around, you heard him coming towards you.

“My lady, I have to do as I'm told,” he said, coming up quickly behind you and grabbing your wrist. You tried to pull back with all your strength, but he was too strong. When he got close, you had a chance to get a good look at him. He had a very muscular and large body, which reminded you of warriors fighting in the Colosseum.

“Let go of my arm!” you cried.

But he had no intention of letting go, his strong hand locked around your wrist as if you were chained.

As he drew you closer to his horse, you heard another horse neighed from down the street, followed by a voice you recognised from before. It was a voice you would not forget, even if you were dead, a voice you felt your ears were made to hear.

The general spurred his black horse into a halt in front of you two. The horse reared under him and uttered a cry. He leapt down from the horse with one swift movement, his face as angry as ever, his eyes fixed on the other man. The general seized the man's hand that was gripping your wrist, pulled it and pushed with such force that the man staggered backwards. But he seemed to be angry too, and quickly regained his composure.

“How dare you lay a hand on her? State yourself, who are you?”

The General moved in front of you, taking charge and protecting you. You were relieved to see him. From behind, he appears to be dressed only in his tunic and cloak. It seems he may have left in a hurry, perhaps he was so worried, you wondered if he had opened the letter yet or not.

"General Acacius, Master Macrinus has given me a mission. I will complete it.”

"Macrinus? I just remember where I saw you before. Tell him I am Marcus Acacius, and I will prevent you from completing your mission.”

The man frowned and tensed as one hand went to the sheath of the sword at his waist. He was not afraid of the General at all.

"Marcus," you gently grasped his cloak and gave it a slight tug. He did not turn to you, still glaring at the man.

"Macrinus would like to take me to the council meeting, I believe he wants to ensure my safety until then. I apologise for not telling you before, I hope you can forgive me.”

Acacius turned his head and looked at you. His eyes conveyed a multitude of emotions, including anger, frustration, and longing.

"Nevertheless, I am unable to allow you to accompany him. I will take you to the meeting if that is your desire."

"No, the emperors may think you've been hiding me all this time. I won't let this happen to you because of me."

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, as if trying to suppress his anger.

“Don't you realize how much I care about you? They've already seen you with me, so I'm prepared to face whatever consequences may result.”

You frowned. "I would never want to cause any damage to your reputation."

"Is that why you decided to leave me? What exactly you were planning, I wonder?”

You bit your bottom lip. “To go to Geta and tell him everything.”

Acacius' eyes flashed with anger. “I'm hoping you're joking right now.”

“He said he owed me, I thought he'd understand.”

“Do you really think he's as pure and kind-hearted as you? How can you be so reckless?”

"Perhaps he'll reconsider when I tell him I'm his sister.”

Acacius shook his head, “Wrong. He won't. He'll kill you on the spot, I'm sure of it.”

You were fairly certain that what he said was true, but you still had the inclination to believe it wasn't. Then, two more riders came down the street towards you and dismounted next to the other man. The General immediately sensed a potential threat and pulled you behind him for protection.

Macrinus knew exactly what he was doing and he was determined to see it through.

It is probable that his slave felt emboldened by the arrival of the other men, as evidenced by his demeanor, which shifted from apprehension to confidence.

"General, I advise you not to cause us any trouble. We're taking the lady with us.”

Acacius drew his sword and looked at them with a glint in his eye, ready for whoever or whatever was about to come at him.

"I dare you to try.”

They seemed to hesitate at first, looking at each other, then drew their swords, the tension rising. You swallowed hard.

"Three against one. I heard you were a good soldier, but you don't stand a chance against three of us." He smiled, but it seemed a little cruelly.

"You must have misheard then. I've killed more when I was in a worse situation." His voice was threatening, making the other person uneasy.

"Indeed, I had the opportunity to observe it at the Colosseum. However, we also fought there, so it would be unwise to underestimate us."

They fought there? At the Colosseum? Gladiators?

You had observed the combatants in action during your time there; you had witnessed it first-hand, with your own eyes, and it sent a chill down your spine.

You moved in front of the general, who was still pointing his sword at the others.

“Marcus, you need to let me go with them.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please, hear me out, the council meeting is just around the corner, he can't do anything to me, he needs me.”

You grasped his other hand tightly with both hands and looked into his eyes.

“Please, I ask you to trust me.”

“He's the one I don't trust.”

“I know. I don't trust him either but I need to find out what his intention is before the meeting.”

Marcus looked at you for a moment, considering your words. Then he sheathed his sword. "Very well. You're right.”

When he remove his sword, the others seemed relieved, but they tried not to show it.

"A wise choice, General," the man said, his voice firm and his gaze steady. He gestured for the others to put their swords back, then approached you with purpose.

"Come with me, my lady," he held out his hand to you and the general caught it in mid-air.

"Who gave you permission to touch her?"

He pushed his hand away and grabbed your wrist. "I will be accompanying her.”

The man laughed and looked at you with disdain. "As you wish. That's fine by me."

As he walked away towards his horse, the general turned to you.

"I'm assuming you've ridden a horse before?"

You didn't ride much in Egypt, given that you lived inconspicuously.

"Well, sort of.”

The look on your face made him smile. He pulled you close to his horse. His black horse lifted one leg and just the tip of the hoof touched the ground, snorted heavily. Acacius stroked the horse's back gently. "You should know how lucky you are to be carrying this beautiful woman, Dromos. Be gentle with her.” The horse lets out a soft whinny as a reply, and Acacius smiles.

“Dromos?”

“Yes, I named him that because he runs so fast.”

“I see.You seem to be quite good friends,” you said with a smile. Hesitantly you reached out and stroked the horse’s neck, ran your fingers through the black of his mane.

“Indeed we are,” he agreed. He placed his hand on the stirrup and held it for you. “Place your foot here and I'll lift you up."

You did as he said, then he put his hand to your waist, lifted you easily and sat you on the thin saddle. When the horse moved, you grabbed onto the horn of the saddle to steady yourself. Then you felt a soreness between your legs but forced yourself to ignore. Acacius quickly climbed on top of the horse and positioned himself right behind you, gripping the reins. You felt safe as you felt his muscular body caressing yours from behind.

“Lead the way,” the General said loudly to the other man, you felt his warm breath just above your ear. The man nodded kicks his horse forward. Acacius gave a gentle pat to Dromos, he neighs, and starts to move faster. Acacius moves a little, closing the gap between you, his arms around you from either side as he holds the reins. Your body shook with the movement of Dromos as he galloped at a moderate speed through the streets of Rome. Your back kept bumping against the General's strong chest, and you even felt his chin in your hair. You gasped. Was he doing it on purpose?

You glanced over at his face and noticed a smile at the corner of his lips, even though his eyes were fixed on the road ahead.

“I’m guessing you’re upset with me?" you asked as the General pulled the rein to the right to steer it, top of your shoulder bumping his chest.

"For leaving me in bed and abandoning me?"

"And for not mentioning the letter before."

"That too.”

When you turned to look at him, a few strands of your hair got caught in his beard. The hairs kept flying with the wind, brushing against his face. He seemed pleased with them.‘

"I must admit that I was eager to find out who you are, but this is beyond what I could have imagined. I can understand why you did it, but I'm still hurt. I wish you hadn't left me in bed. You broke my heart.”

You swallowed, “Forgive me, I didn't know what to do. Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done. Will you let me heal your heart? I'm Medicus, you know?" You blinked your eyes under your long eyelashes, he smiled.

He buried his lips in your flowing hair and whispered in your ear.

"My heart is yours to heal. You don't need to be a medicus for that.”

You smiled as you felt his lips on your cheek, your lips yearning so much to touch his. At that moment, as you rode with him on his horse, you wished that he would take you far away, to a place where no one could find you two, you were willing to give everything for it.

—-

Macrinus’s Villa…

The men on horseback dismounted and led their horses into the courtyard. Acacius gently pulled his horse's reins and rode in a circle, glancing towards the villa. It seemed as though he was hesitating. Soon, Macrinus appeared in the doorway and grasped the bridle to the right, turning it around to face him.

"My lady," he bowed his head and greeted you. "General Acacius?”

Acacius ignored him and dismounted, one hand still clutching his horse's harness.

“Sir Macrinus, have you stationed your slaves outside my villa to keep watch? Or should I say your gladiators?”

Macrinus smirked. “I needed to make sure Lady Aurelia was safe.” He turned his eyes to you.

“I think you can rest assured that it's not something you need to worry about, especially when she's with me.”

“Which is why you must have accompanied her here, I see.”

“Apparently.” Acacius muttered.

“Then let me invite you in,” he gestured with his hand.

Acacius turned to you and held out his hand. “My lady.”

You smiled, initially surprised that he was addressing you with respect for the first time, but then realising how much you liked it. You took his hand and dismounted the horse and allowed yourself to be embraced by his protective arms. He took you gently and lowered you down.

As your feet touched down on the ground, you felt the throbbing return and let out a quiet moan.“Are you alright?” Acacius's voice was worried.

You regarded him with a somewhat hesitant expression. "I'm a little sore from..." You pursed your lips.

Acacius stroked your disheveled hair with his big hand. "I wish I could relieve your soreness.”

You blushed at the memory of witnessing how well his passionate lips worked on your body before.

“I'll take that as a promise for later, General.” You smirked mischievously.

“At your service, my lady,” he grasped your hand gently and kissed it.

As your heart melted in the warmth of his smile, Macrinus watched you from afar, his eyes narrowed in scrutiny. He felt something very different. He controlled his expression though and cleared his throat. You and the General looked at him, his warrior slave standing beside him. Acacius held out his hand, offering it to you.

“Shall we?”

—-

Sitting in his garden, you realized that Macrinus' villa was bigger than the General's. The fountain in the center of this big courtyard was rectangular, and in the center was a statue of the queen goddess Salacia, the wife of Neptune, the goddess of the sea and water. She's holding a bucket just above her head and the water is gushing out of it.

The columns ahead were white and straight, half covered with red marble, with ionic protrusions at the corners. They proudly stood among various trees and plants, but this beauty was nothing compared to the Domus Severiana. That palace was magnificent and wonderful.

Although you couldn't see it clearly because it was still dark, you were wondering what kind of flowers were behind the fountain when Macrinus' gladiator slave stood there, blocking your view. You met his gaze and turned to the general, who was standing next to you. He seemed uneasy and reluctant to sit down. His body language showing his tension. You reached out and grasped his hand.

"Would you perhaps like to sit with me?"

"My lady, I believe I will be more comfortable like this," he replied, his eyes on the gladiator who crossed his arms and looking at Macrinus as he approached.

“Apologies, I am expecting an important guest, I wanted to make sure he arrived safely,” he sat down opposite you and crossed his legs. A delighted smile spread across his face.

“I assume you brought the letter with you, my lady?” he said, looking at you.

You glanced at the General, to whom you entrusted the letter. He crossed his arms and looked directly at Macrinus.

“Prior to that, elucidate your intentions regarding the council.”

"I'm going to make sure our lady gets her 'filia regis' (princess) title back and gets what's rightfully hers. You know, general, you were what, twenty? You must have been about that age when Aurelia was born. Septimius gave me the task of taking her away to protect her. He made me promise.”

"I was nineteen," the General stated, his eyes distant as he recalled those days. "And you were the one who made up the lie that she drowned in the river when she was little? You actually took her to Egypt? With that man, Vicius."

He turned his head to look at you, to see your expression. You felt sad when you remembered him, but you gave the general a half-smile anyway.

“There were three hundred days of mourning throughout the empire,” Macrinus gave you a half smile. “Then it was forgotten when it was time for Caracalla's fifth birthday, but the people of Rome must still remember their princess. The year you were born was a very prosperous one, the fields were full of new crops, there were hardly any beggars in the streets.”

A soft smile spread across Acacius' face, you wondered why, but you didn't feel comfortable to ask when Macrinus around.

“Wine,” Macrinus ordered one of the other slaves. “My lady, please eat something,” he said, indicating the food on the table. “You need to gather your strength.” Then he looked at Acacius who shook his head. “I should head out to dress properly for the Council,” he said and turned to you and got down on his knees. "My Lady, I will be ready to provide any assistance you may require at the council today."

“No, General, I cannot allow you to do that.”

He looked confused.

"Perhaps it would be better if I said that I've kept my name a secret from you.”

“They've already seen us together,” he protested. “I don't think they'll care about that.”

"Lady Aurelia is right, General. It would not be good for you to make your side clear, at least from Geta's point of view. Half the council already knows everything and we have the upper hand."

"Marcus, please," you grabbed his big hand with both of yours. "I don't want you to stay in the middle of this.”

He took both your hands in his, his beard brushing against your skin. "As you wish. but know that if things don't go our way, I will do my utmost to ensure your safety." He kissed you gently on the top of your hands and stood up. "I will see you at the Council then." He nodded and left the courtyard. With his leaving, you felt abandoned, out of place.

Macrinus' gladiator-slave accompanied the general out into the courtyard and returned a moment later. As his eyes met yours, you turned your head.

“I wonder why you keep gladiators as slaves in your villa?”

Macrinus smiled, shaking the wine glass in his hand, “Choosing gladiators is an art, they often become prisoners of war, just like other slaves.”

“So you buy them, train them and put them in fights,” you looked at the gladiator without turning your head. "What is the return on investment of this strategy? Is this the best way to gain the trust of the emperors, by providing entertainment?”

Macrinus laughed. “My lady, you have the right angle, but I don't think you see the whole picture. Perhaps you could save your thinking skills for the council, as it is almost time. My slaves will be ready to dress you properly," he said, rising to his feet. "If I may ask, as you still haven't given me the letter."

One of the girl slaves came as you stood up. “The general has the letter, I'm sure he will bring it before the council.”

“I must say, I am rather surprised at the extent of your trust in him.” Macrinus narrowed his eyes.

“I trust him more than anyone,” you said confidently. You couldn't bear to hear him speak unfairly of the General. You took a step back, looking around to avoid making eye contact with him. “Now, where do I get dressed?”

—-

Roman Forum…

The Roman Forum was the centre of day-to-day life in Rome: the site of triumphal processions and elections; the venue for public speeches, criminal trials and gladiatorial matches; and the nucleus of commercial affairs. Here statues and monuments commemorated the city's leaders. This was where the Senate—as well as Republican government itself—began. The Senate House, government offices, tribunals, temples, memorials and statues gradually cluttering the area.

By the time the carriage carrying you and Macrinus arrived, the morning sun was already brightening the streets. The streets were now filled with Romans, spread around, going about their daily routines. This particular street was noticeably more crowded than usual. A considerable number of people had gathered in anticipation of the emperors' attendance at today's significant meeting. Among them were individuals with pending court cases, spectators eager to witness the new gladiators' initial contests, distinguished patricians and their wives, and those in need, who had come with the hope of receiving alms from them. Additionally, there were individuals who were to be dedicated as priestesses to the temple of Vesta and their companions, as well as those with business at the state house and, of course, the esteemed members of the senate and their wives.

Women were allowed to walk around the Roman Forum, but not in the Curia Julia, the senate building. Of course, the empress managed to sneak herself in - to see what was being said behind her sons' backs and what plans were being made - so it was inevitable that no one would pretend to know about it.

Today, Julia Domna managed to get herself into the Curia in the same way, but you couldn't see it because the entrance was too far away. Macrinus got out of the carriage and looked in towards you.

‘My lady, you will have to sit here for a while, you know women are-.’

‘Yes, sir, I know.’

He turned his head and squinted at something in the distance.

‘Acacius,’ he murmured.

Upon hearing his name, your heart began to race with excitement. He was the only person you desired to see at that moment. Macrinus took a step back, and the general's footsteps could be heard just outside the carriage.

"Did you bring the letter, General Acacius?" Macrinus asked.

You stuck your head out, eager to see his face. Cato was beside him, he took your letter out of his leather bag and handed it to Acacius, he handed it to you. You reached for it, and he turned his head to meet your eyes, making you realise how much you had missed him, even in such a short time.

“My Lady, I would like to return this to you.” The General was dressed differently today, in a toga worn on formal occasions. White in colour, it covered almost his entire body, with burgundy stripes around the edges. The shawl was of the same colour and pattern, the sleeves were short so you could see the thick gold bracelets on his arms, it looked perfect and neat.

“I am grateful to you for ensuring its safety,” you said quietly.

Macrinus cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should go inside now to start the session."

“Sir Macrinus, you go first.” Acacius said in a detached manner, his eyes locked on you.

“My lady,” he bowed his head, turned around and made his way towards the wide stairs of the Curia.

"Are you feeling a bit nervous?” His voice softened for you.

“A little,” you lied.

He smiled and put his hand on your cheek. “No need to be, you have nothing to worry about. It's your birthright, like every Roman. I think that's the only thing Macrinus and I agree on.”

You touched his hand on your cheek and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I know, thank you.”

He tilted his head towards you, almost close enough to touch you with his lips. “I will always be there to protect you, my beautiful lady, no matter what the outcome.” He held your eyes captive for a moment with his eyes, then pulled himself back. He looked ahead, frowning.

“They're here,” he said, squinting.

“Our Emperors!” Someone in the crowd shouted at the top of his lungs.

Your swallowed, feeling your heart began to race. Acacius stroked your hair gently, "There's no need to be so distressed. They can't do anything to you. There are very few people in the Senate who likes them. As much as I don't like him, I have to hand it to him, Macrinus knows what he's doing, almost succeeded in convincing the entire council,’ he said. 'I must go in now, Octavius will accompany you in,' he said, kissing your hand for the last time before leaving. You inhaled deeply while holding the letter in your hand tightly, praying to all the Gods.

 

——

 

Curia Julia…

All councillors were present and awaiting the commencement of the session, with the oldest councillor taking the lead in opening the meeting. The murmurs of the members of the Senate reverberated gently off the walls of the Curia's spacious, high-ceilinged meeting hall. When their names were announced a little later, all the congressmen stood up and showed their greeting as the Emperors entered the hall from the great hall, albeit somewhat reluctantly. They took their seats in the western corner of the round hall, their attire differing from that of the members of the senate in that it was rather more ostentatious and therefore perhaps less appropriate.

The longest-serving member of the council approached the emperors and stood on the ledge in the centre of the hall to offer them his greetings. He surveyed the room with a gesture that seemed to convey a desire to embrace everyone. “What an auspicious day. Many gave their lives so that we could stand here once more, for the sake of an empire, a government with laws.”

All the members applauded him, except the emperors, who seemed bored already. Acacius was in the lowest tribune and sat quite close to them. Many were surprised to see him at the meeting today; he rarely attended, and no one even knew he voted in the elections.

“In honouring them, I would like to mention that we must pay our respects in your presence to General Marcus Justus Acacius, commander of the southern armies, General of the Legio III Augusta and protector of Rome.” he said, raising his hand and pointing to him. “He demonstrated remarkable courage in defending the Rome and is worthy of our respect and gratitude.”

The members started clapping more enthusiastically. They were all chanting the General's name together. Acacius stood up to show his appreciation and then sat back down.

“Senate is now in session. I invite Sir Macrinus here to make his speech.”

As oldest member approached the tribune to take his seat, Macrinus rose from his seat, came to the centre and greeted the emperors and members.

“Your Majesties, esteemed council members. The reason we are gathered here today is not a matter of government or politics. It is a matter concerning our former emperor, Emperor Septimius Severus and his family.” As he extended his hand towards Emperors, Geta turned curiously to Caracalla.

“What is he saying, brother?” he whispered.

Caracalla answered without looking at him. “Patience brother, you’ll understand soon enough.”

“So you knew?”

He did not answer, which made Geta angry and curious.

 

—-

 

When Octavius came to get you from the carriage, you were pretty bored sitting inside.

“My lady, it's time.”

You nodded and got out of the carriage with his help, taking a quick look around as you walked together through the crowd. The gladiator fights had taken a break, and people were discussing what was happening in the Curia. One of the trials was underway. A man and a woman were crying, as if they had been convicted of some crime you didn't understand. As you made your way up the stairs of the Curia, one after the other behind Octavius, one of the guards at the entrance blocked your path with an outstretched hand. Octavius brushed his arm away with the back of his hand.

"She is no ordinary woman, and the council members are waiting for her."

"Forgive me," he said, stepping back to allow you to pass.

You and Octavius entered a large hall and proceeded between tall, imposing white pillars. After a short while, you heard the voices of several men. Was there a disagreement in the council? Octavius stood near two large, thick pillars and looked in the direction of the sound, raising his hand towards you. "Perhaps we should wait a moment."

As the big iron door swung open, you could hear the voices inside a bit better.

"Are you saying that our sister is alive?"

It was Geta's voice, sounding angry. "Where has she been all this time?"

"As I said, Your Majesty, your sister was sent to Egypt on your father's orders. She wasn't there when I went to find her, but she is here now. Your sister is waiting outside with the letter your father, the Emperor, wrote to her. Shall I bring her here now?"

Macrinus' voice was loud but persuasive.

“Yes, the council wants to see her!” Someone else's voice was louder than his.

The voices that rose and echoed in the great hall were positive, a flicker of nervousness swept through you. Soon, Macrinus appeared in the doorway.

“My lady, remove your cloak, please.”

You did as he said, Octavius held it for you, and you felt a little reassured that he was there.

Macrinus accompanied you into the meeting room, his demeanor somewhat less reassuring than you had hoped. “Walk with a little more confidence, my lady, you will soon be declared 'filia regis’ (princess).”

His confident face was only working in his favor. It had nothing to do with you. You were trying to look ahead as you descended the stairs one by one, the councillors began to murmur, you didn't feel ready to look at them, and soon you heard Caracalla's hysterical laughter, you were startled and looked in the direction of the sound.

He pointed his finger at you. “You! It must be a lame joke!”

Geta was silent, only his eyes locked on you, leaning forward and marveling under his eyebrows. Caracalla stormed out of his seat and came over to Macrinus.

“What does this mean?”

“You told me my sister was coming, but you forgot to tell me who she was?” he scolded him in a low voice.

“It's pure coincidence that you've met her before, Highness.”

He then looked in the direction where the general was sitting, and you had the opportunity to observe him and the others. All the members were dressed in white togas, similar to the general, but with black embroidery around the edges of their clothes. It was a large hall filled with men, and it was somewhat awkward and uncomfortable to be in the middle of them as the only woman.

"She resembles her mother," one individual posited.

“Indeed, she is an exact match, both physically and genetically," another concurred. “Just like in the records.”

A multitude of voices were present, yet your attention was directed towards Caracalla, who directed a finger at the general.

"For how long have you been aware of this, General Acacius?”

“He didn’t know!”

As your voice echoed through the vast hall with a ringing effect among all the male voices, the other voices gradually faded and Caracalla turned to look at you. Then you handed him the letter.

“I got the chance to open it on the day of the ceremony. That's when I found out everything. General Acacius had no idea.”

This time you said it looking at all the council members as your eyes met Acacius. He was staring at Caracalla, looking a bit angry. Geta arose from his seat and approached Caracalla. He took the letter from his hand and read it over, then looked at you.

“Why didn't you say anything that day?”

"I was planning to," you replied. "I was uncertain of your reaction and what you would do," your eyes shifted to Caracalla. Another councillor approached and examined the letter.

“This is the seal of Emperor Septimius Severus,” he said, looking at the other members. Caracalla grasped the letter and held it up. “But a broken seal and a piece of paper which doesn't prove anything.” Geta reached out to take it from him, but he pushed him away with his elbow, tore the letter into pieces and threw it on the floor.

You were filled with anger. "That was the last thing left of my father," your voice was higher than you would have cared to have it be.

Macrinus interjected, "Your Majesty, while I understand your concerns, I believe it would be beneficial to hear the rest of the speech before making a decision.”

“I want to hear it.” Geta sat back in his seat.

Caracalla nodded and reluctantly joined him.

You clenched your fists, looking at the pieces of the letter on the floor, some of them scattered on your sandals. It was hard not to cry, your father's seal lying on the ground like something worthless. How could he be so cruel?

"Sir Macrinus, if I might be so bold, I would like to say a few words before you speak," said the oldest member of the council.

As he stood up and came to stand beside you, the room fell silent. "I was fortunate to have the opportunity to meet Lady Aurelia before she disappeared," he said, looking at you. "Her eyes and hair are similar, and her face has retained a remarkable resemblance. The emperor Septimius affectionately titled to her as 'Aurelia' due to her blonde hair. I am the one who made it official, and I have my signature and seal included in the record book. It is an honor to see you again, Lady Aurelia.” He bowed his head.

"I am truly grateful for your kind assistance, sir.” Your voice broke.

The crowd began to murmur again, with only a few objecting. The general was looking at you with a soft expression, and you smiled back, though you quickly turned your head away to avoid being noticed. Macrinus thanked the elderly member, waited for him to take his seat, and then he turned to the council members.

"I was fortunate to be able to visit Egypt four years ago at the Emperor's request. I went in search of the lady Aurealia, who was residing with Vicius, Septimius' personal medicus. I had a brief encounter with her, but it seemed that she was still unaware of the truth about herself. Vicius was of the opinion that the Emperor had not sent me. Perhaps he considered himself to be more closely aligned with the Emperor than I was. I am still curious as to what the Emperor may have promised him,” he said sarcastically.

“He did a good job of hiding her,” Caracalla said, teasingly.

The crowd found his behaviour amusing and laughter echoed through the great hall. Geta joined in with the laughter. The mood in the hall started to lighten, but you frowned. It wasn't right to disrespect his memory.

“Sir Macrinus, you mentioned seeing the lady Aurelia around four years ago, which is around the time we lost Septimius Severus.” One of the councillors said.

“I know what you're implying, but I've always had the trust of our emperors since they ascended to the throne. I couldn't bring your sister because I returned here as soon as I heard the news of Septimius Severus' death.” He said, looking at him and then back to the emperors. “He gave me a task before he died and told me to get it done. But I'm not the only one. There's someone else he assigned. With your permission, I call consul ordinarius Gaius Septimius Severus Aper here.”

Once more, the great hall was filled with murmuring. Macrinus  turned  towards you. “Your cousin,” he explained. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“I hate him,” Caracalla growled. Geta didn't seem to like him either.

A moment later, Gaius entered the great hall with another letter in his hand, greeted everyone and came over to you. He appeared to be in his thirties, well built but not soldierly, with an attractive but stern face.

“Lady Aurelia, we meet at last,” he said, smiling at you. You nodded, but didn't have anything to say, and were pretty surprised.

“Another letter?” Geta enquired.

“It seems our father has written letters to everyone but us,” Caracalla said, making a face.

They stood up and gave their cousins the kind of hug that was pretty clearly insincere. It was obvious that they didn't get along. Gaius held the letter up for everyone to see.

“I was with my uncle when he wrote this letter, he sealed it in my presence.” Gaius said.

“Before or after you fled to Leptis Magna?” Caracalla asked. Geta burst out laughing.

He ignored them and spoke to the council instead. "Members of the Senate, I break the seal in your presence," he said, and broke the seal of the letter that the father had sealed himself and opened it.

Macrinus asked permission to take the letter and summarised it for the council members.

“It seems that our Emperor has directed Gaius to ensure that upon the eventual return of Lady Aurelia, she will be duly restored to her full birth rights. That makes two of us sir Gaius.” Macrinus and him exchanged looks that made you sure they talked about his before.

“I am privileged to be able to convey greetings from your relatives in Leptis Magna to you. The entire Severan Dynasty salutes you, my lady,” Gaius said, bowing to you. “And of course you, our emperors,” he bowed to them, as a reply Caracalla turned his head in disgust.

Oldest member of council came towards you again with few members beside him.

‘Then, before our emperors and your esteemed councillors, I extend an invitation to all to welcome our filia regis princess Septimia Aurelia Marciana, first of the name, daughter of Emperor Caesar Lucius Septimius Severus Pertinax Augustus and his first wife Paccia Marciana, patroness of Leptis Magna back to her home.” He sang out.

"A very warm welcome back to Lady Aurelia!" someone stood up and said in a cheerful voice.“Welcome back, filia regis Aurelia!” another joined him.

And all the council members repeated in unison.

Geta approached you in a cheerful manner, clapping his hands. “Welcome, I embrace you as my sister," he said, kissing you on the cheek. You were somewhat startled, but you kept your composure, your cheeks blushed. "We must celebrate this," Caracalla said, kissing you on the other cheek, smiling involuntarily. You forced a smile in return, although he still made you feel somewhat nervous.

“My brother is right, we must celebrate!”

All the members were now standing and applauding, their enthusiasm evident in the resounding applause that echoed through the great hall.

"Sir Macrinus, bring the new gladiators to the Domus Severiana tomorrow. I want new games!" Caracalla smiled with joy.

"As you wish, your majesty," he bowed his head.

"But brother, tomorrow is the festival of Saturnalia," Geta whined.

“Well? That's better, it'll add some excitement.”

While they were chatting, you scanned the room, looking for the General among all the men.

Caracalla turned to you. “As our sister, you're supposed to come with us now?”

This was something you hadn't planned. You didn't factor in the idea of living under the same roof with them. Why didn't you think of that before?

Geta stood between you and Caracalla. “Mother must be pretty shaken up, perhaps you could go and find her first, I'll accompany Aurelia, she's a bit wary of you,” he grinned at you and took your arm.

Caracalla smirked. “Fine by me.” But you could tell he was watching you two.

'Come on, sister, there's lots to do.' You were a little surprised by how fast they welcomed you, but you feel grateful somehow.

The council members were all standing and chatting, and although you wanted to go to the general in this crowd and talk to him, you had to put it out of your mind for now. Before Geta pulled you along by the arm and led you out, you looked back at Marcus for the last time and saw that he looked worried. As you descended the stairs of the Curia with Geta, cheers and applause erupted from the crowd outside.

“Emperor Geta!”

Guards surrounded you to protect you, the crowd chanting Geta's name with enthusiasm.

Geta raised his hands high and greeted them. Then he grabbed you by the wrist and raised your arm.

"People of Rome, allow me to introduce you to your filia regis, Lady Aurelia!"

You didn't expect it to happen so soon. The crowd fell silent. Caracalla came running up behind him and grabbed Geta's other arm.“Eager much, brother? We must announce at the festival tomorrow.”

After a brief period of murmuring, the crowd suddenly began clapping and shouting again. You were taken aback when Julia took your other arm. How long had she been there?

"I would like to invite you all to welcome Lady Aurelia!" she sang.

"Welcome Lady Aurelia!" someone shouted loudly and cheerfully.

“Lady Aurelia!”

Just like in the hall, the streets of the Roman Forum began to echo with your name. It was a strange feeling, a bit frightening, exciting, and proud. You weren't used to any of it, but you were born that way, a princess. It will take me a while to get used to it, you thought.

“See? They love her already,” Geta winked at Caracalla, then pushed back the hair that had fallen over your shoulder. “Smile, sister.”

For him it was easy to say, for you it was all so sudden and you would have to adjust to this new situation. As the crowd chanted your names, the general, who had been observing the proceedings from a distance, seemed somewhat displeased that Geta had managed to touch you with such ease.

He hated to see another man touches you, even if it was your half-brother.

"General Acacius, it's been a long time," Gaius came up to him.

"Sir Gaius," the general nodded. "You are correct, I had just been appointed commander of the southern armies when I arrived at Leptis Magna. It must be decades." His eyes were watching you from afar.

"I must say that you played a significant role in the success of the battle there," he said. "I believe our people are still grateful to you." He was also observing you and Geta.

"I believe you stayed there to hide the emperor's letter. I understand why you chose to stay away from the capital," the general's eyes shifted to Caracalla.

"I believe he may view me as a potential threat to the throne, as he has done in the past. However, I believe it is my duty to remain here and complete my mission," he said with conviction.

The general observed Gaius' gaze and perceived that he was focusing it on you.

"I must ensure the safety of Lady Aurelia."

"But perhaps it would be wise to ensure your own safety as well? I believe you may be in more danger than she is.”

Gaius picked up on the hint in his voice. "Sir Macrinus told me a little about your relationship with her. I'm really grateful that you protected her while I was away."

The general stayed silent and waited, obviously sensing Gaius' intentions with his man instincts.

"I'll ask the emperors for her hand in marriage. I'm sure she'll be safer in Leptis Magna. She can't be happy with them – look how uneasy she is with them.”

The general looked tense. "I wasn't aware you were a widow," he said.

"Yes, I got divorced a while ago," he replied with a smile. "I would like to remarry, as a widow, you know what I mean, I guess."

Acacius returned his smile with a disgusted expression. "Could I ask why you believe Lady Aurelia will marry you?" He regarded him with keen scrutiny. "I am merely cautioning you in advance, Sir Gaius, because I am convinced that you will be rejected." He smiled wryly at him, then turned his back on him and began to ascend the stairs.

Macrinus approached him as Gaius glared angrily after him.

"You were right, there is something between those two."

"Don't worry, tomorrow at the festival we'll take the first step to get rid of Acacius once and for all."

Gaius turned to him, looking angry. "How can that be? He's someone everyone respects. He's the biggest obstacle in my way."

He touched his shoulder. ”The gladiators are ready to fight, we just need Majesties’ approval tomorrow. Then Acacius will find himself in the Colosseum, and then we'll get rid of him for good. Then there will be nothing in our way, my friend." He smiled confidently.

 

—-

 

Palatine Hill…

As the morning sun shone on the crimson-red roofs of the Domus Severiana, the birds chirped cheerfully and flew around, their songs of joy filling the air. Yesterday was a turning point for you. Things moved pretty quickly, and it was a bit of a challenge to adjust. When you first arrived with your half-brothers last evening, it was a lot easier than you thought it would be. Julia, their mother, was pretty quiet all night, but she didn't react badly to you, which surprised you even more. e. You got the feeling that she could be pretty ruthless, even though she seemed pretty calm. The idea of living in the same house with them wasn't appealing to you. In fact, it made you feel uneasy. Geta was the only one who didn't make you nervous, but you knew he was unpredictable like his mother.

You opened your eyes in your new room and bed, looked around, and closed them again. This room was big and luxurious, much more so than your room in the general's villa. A bit too much, you thought. You pulled the silk bed sheet over your head and sighed deeply. You would give anything to open your eyes to the new day lying next to Marcus, in his arms.

You were no longer a slave, nor a Medicus, nor could you go to his villa as a commoner. It seems that even as a princess, you don't always get to choose. But you missed him so much, his strong arms around you, his sensual lips, all the memories you had in his villa.

A gentle knock at the door momentarily distracted you from your thoughts, which seemed to fade into the elegant surroundings of this splendid room.

"Please come in," you said, sitting up in bed.

A young slave girl entered the room.

"My lady, I am pleased to see you are awake," she said, her voice conveying a sense of concern.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Yes, it's about Emperor Geta."

You removed the bedclothes around you and got out of the large bed.

“What happened to him?”

“He asked me to take you to him quietly, he doesn't want the Empress to hear.”

‘Hear what?’

‘He seems a little unwell.’

‘Take me to hem,’ you said quickly. You were concerned that the poison might still be present in his body.

You left your room and went into the main hall to leave your chamber. Your room was in the east corner of the other courtyard. They said, it was your mother and father’s chambers when they first married. You strode up the stairs and entered Geta's chambers. It was still early, so the room was quiet. The other slaves looked at you with concern as you approached the door of the room where you had come to heal him the last time. They greeted you and opened the door for you. You were surprised to see a couple of young slaves lying on the floor. Their bodies were naked, which made you blush with shame. It was clear that your brother Geta had a lot of fun last night. There were two girls in Geta's bed, but he was nowhere to be seen. You looked at the latrina (bathroom, toilet) door and heard a coughing sound behind. He should have been there, but you had no intention of finding him naked.

You cleared your throat and called out to him.

“Highness? Geta? Brother?”

There was a brief interlude of laughter, and then he looked up at you through the latrine door.

“I need to get used to this, a woman's voice calling me brother.”

His face was as white as marble.

"Is everything all right? You look a little pale.”

“It's because I started the damn day throwing up.”

You looked down at the wine glasses on the floor and sighed.

"You must have had a lot to drink. You're just recovered, so you need to be careful about alcohol.” As you approached the latrine door, he was coming out, you almost bumped into each other. You quickly backed away and turned around, it was a bit stuffy in there, you moved to open the big window.

Geta looked like a little boy, messy hair and all, far away from an emperor.

"Do you think it's because I didn't drink your herbal thing?" He threw himself into the armchair by the window, covered his face with his arm.

“You didn’t?" You looked at him in shock. “How could you not? You had to drink it all to get better.” You were angry.

“But it tasted like cow dung.” He whined, lifted his arm up, gave you a mocking look. “What, are you scolding me?”

You swallowed. “Your Majesty,” you said suggestively. “You must drink the concoction for your own health.”

“I can't.”

You crossed your arms. “Don't you want to get better?”

“Because of that stupid whore, she broke the bottle. That's what happens when you bring a whore from the whorehouse.”

When you heard that word, you thought of Decima. You faced the fact that you had left her behind while you were dealing with everything.

“Could you make the mixture again? It's a festival day and I want to feel good, I don't want to look unwell especially when I’m with Caracalla.” He mumbled.

“I will, but may I ask something in return?”

“Aha! You don't act like a saint anymore, huh?” He laughed. You ignored his joke, approached him.

“Please, brother, a small favor?” Perhaps it seemed to you that you were looking at him in a pleading way. But to him, it was seductive, though he didn't show that. He cleared his throat.

“Alright, what can I do for my lovely sister? What is it you want, I really wonder?”

You smiled hesitantly. “A platoon of soldiers.”

Geta opened his eyes wide, let out a hearty laugh, stood up, and then laughed again, clapping his hands. You tried to stay calm and wait patiently.

He laughed so hard that the slaves on the floor and the ones in his bed all woke up and quickly left the room.

“You know, you really are an unbelievable woman.” His childish smile spread all over his face. He let out another laugh. Then he crossed his arms. “What are you planning to do with all those soldiers? I am genuinely curious.”

“I'm going to save my friend.”

He put his hand on his chin, thinking, narrowing his eyes.

“Why don't you ask the General Acacius for help? He can do alone what a platoon of soldiers can do.”

“Because he won't like what I'm going to do,” you were sure of it.The mere thought of it made you nervous, so you had to get it done as soon as possible.

Geta laughed again. “Something Acacius wouldn't like, hmm, sounds delicious. The soldiers are at your service, sister.”

 

—-

 

Whore House…

In the early morning, the street where the whorehouse was located was not very crowded, even quiet. Compared to other parts of the city, it might have been the quietest place in the mornings, but not today. You had come to this street with a group of ten soldiers with a single purpose. And this time you had the power to do it. Not as Aya, but as Princess Aurelia.

Walking with confidence among the soldiers, not paying attention to the people looking at you. You paused in front of the door, and the soldiers stopped with you. You'd already told the commander what was going to happen. He nodded and kicked the door open. The soldiers scattered inside to make sure you got in safely, the last two entering with you, standing next to you, protecting you.

Juturna, the woman who owned this place, looked like she had just woken up. She was surprised to see the soldiers; her pupils were popping out of their sockets.

Then she saw you and pointed her finger at you.

“You! What the?”

The room where they were holding Decima was upstairs. You ignored Juturna's whine and headed for that room. The soldiers were waiting for you downstairs, and one of them came behind you to protect you. When you stepped in front of the room, you rushed inside. Decima was lying on the bed, her wrists still cuffed with chains. She looked a little weak and hardly looked at you. You were incredibly angry. You grabbed her chain and looked at the soldier.

“Uncuff her!”

The soldier nodded and grabbed the collar of one of the guards who had come after you.

“You heard the lady!”

The guard was frightened, he quickly uncuffed her, and Decima's bruised face lit up with a ray of hope. When she was free, she hugged you.

“Aya, but how?”

“Never mind now, let's get you out of here first.”

You grabbed her arm and led her out of the room. As you made your way downstairs, you heard Juturna's cries.

“Lady you can't do this!” she lunged towards you, but one of the soldiers pushed her back.

“Pay her compensation,” you ordered one of the soldiers. He handed her the pouch full of coins.

“This girl is now my slave, send the necessary papers to the Domus Severiana, and if you have any objections, try the Emperor Geta.”

She swallowed hard, knowing full well that she'd never want to contradict him. You smiled triumphantly as you and Decima walked out of there with the soldiers behind you. Then you stopped suddenly when you saw the general standing next to your carriage.

When did he come?

You led Decima inside the carriage and looked at him. He'd called the commander of the troops to him and was talking to him. He punched him on the chest, but not so hard. Was he scolding him?

As you approached him, the soldier was coming towards you, rubbing his chest where General had hit him.

“The General says we're done here, my lady, if you'll excuse me.” he bowed his head.

“The General is right, you can go,” you said, looking at General.

“You really do whatever you set your mind to, you are so stubborn, my lady.” He muttered.

“How do you know I was here?”

Acacius crossed his arms and squinted at you. “I am the General, remember? All the soldiers in this city are under my command.”

"I see. I understand why you might be upset with me for not asking for help. I thought you could stop me from coming here, so I asked Geta for help."

"I can see that you and your brother Geta are close. I believe he asked you for something in return?”

"I promised to make the herbal concoction to heal him."

"I'd like to hear the real answer."

He smiled, but his eyes were sharp. It was impossible to lie to those eyes.

"Perhaps I told him you wouldn't like it," you said, biting your lower lip.

“This is the answer I'm looking for.”

“I didn’t want you to upset, I’m sorry.”

“It's not something you should be sorry about,” he said, looking at the carriage behind you. “You did it for your friend, I understand.”

Her eyes softened, and he was smiling once more, which prompted you to return his smile.

“I miss you,” you said in a low tone.

"I miss you more, my lady. "There are memories of you all over the villa. Facing those memories makes me sorrowful." His brown eyes were warm. "I find I miss you more when I'm in my room. There are so many reminders of you there," he said, his lips curving in a mischievous smile. He leaned his head towards you, close to your ear. "Especially in my bed." You gasped as his warm breath hit your face, your heart racing.

You almost forgot you were in the middle of the street. You were ready to throw yourself into his arms. You pulled yourself together with his giggling, he must have been amused by your facial expression. You jokingly nudged his muscled arm with your elbow.

"You're pretty shameless, General. Seducing me right here in the middle of the street.”

“Apologies, my lady,” he said, laughing.

"Are you coming to the festival today?”

“Yes, I've been invited and I would like to take this opportunity to talk with the emperors.”

You heard the hint in his voice, but you didn't understand it. His grin made you even more curious. He never smiled when he talked about emperors, so this was weird.

‘What are you going to talk to them about, I wonder?’

Acacius held your hand and looked into your eyes. "If it pleases you, my lady, I will tell them I ask your hand in marriage."

You froze and opened your eyes wide, unsure if you had heard correctly. Acacius smiled and kissed your hand.

“You can give me your answer after the festival. You might want to head out now, as preparations are about to get underway.” He put his arm around you and pulled you towards the carriage.

You looked at him before getting in, “I'll be waiting for you there, Marcus.”

 

Chapter 6: The Battle

Notes:

This is the longest chapter I wrote, it was pain in the ass so please support me with comments and kudos thank you :)

lupus est homo homini

A man to a man is a wolf.

T. Hobbes

 

Temple of Saturn…

Saturnalia was by far the most joyous Roman festival; the Roman poet Catullus famously described it as ‘the best of times’. The festivities were so exuberant that the Roman writer Pliny is said to have had a soundproof room built so that he could work during the raucous celebrations. During Saturnalia, business and commerce would come to a standstill. Schools and courts were closed and normal social practices were suspended. The feast was celebrated with sacrifices and a public banquet in the Temple of Saturn in the Roman Forum.

People decorated their houses with garlands, even the exteriors of official buildings were decorated with greenery. People were dressed in different colours for this day, unlike their daily and official clothes. The streets of Rome were lively and colourful today.

You traveled to the temple with your half-brothers, Caracalla and his mother Julia Domna in the flamboyant carriage in front, and you and Geta - at his insistence - in the carriage behind them. Even though you felt that Geta was treating you more cordially now, you still couldn't be completely sure. But he was certainly different from Caracalla and his mother, they had a ruthless side that never changed, and you were sure that you could not trust them under any circumstances.

Already the ostentatious temple was crowded with people, the Romans seemed to be enjoying the day of festivities.  They were shouting your names with great enthusiasm as you got out of the carriages and greeted them. One of them was handing you a bouquet of flowers when one of the guards blocked him. You told him to move away and thanked him as you took the flowers, he was so surprised and happy that he started dancing with joy. His mates joined him and chanted your name. Geta gave your arm a gentle but firm grip. 'You have to be a bit more careful. You never know what they'll do.'

'It's just a few flowers,' you replied. 'And why would they hurt me?'

He smiled, but his eyes showed his concern. 'You're so naive, sister. There's so much you have to learn. Let's get these ceremonies over with, I'm dying to get to the banquet.’

As you walked up the stairs of the temple, you noticed that he was still holding your arm.

'Are you feeling better now?' you asked, trying to pull your arm back, but for some reason he wouldn't let go. It bothered you. "Could I just ask you to let go of my arm, please?"

He paused and looked at you with his light brown eyes. He looked like he wanted to tell you something, but it was hard to know what emotion he was feeling. All of a sudden, he smiled. "I think the disgusting herbal concoction worked." He took his hand away and started up the stairs faster. You tried to keep up with him, but he was too fast, and Caracalla was waiting for him at the top of the steps. "You're slow," he grumbled. Julia squinted at you and went inside. It seemed like you were going to have to get used to that look.

—-

After the ceremony of sacrificing a young pig in front of the statue of the god Saturn, just between the tall white pillars inside the temple, Geta approached you as you prayed to the great statue then gestured you to outside and walked towards the stairs to leave, followed by Caracalla, who took his mother by the arm. You'd have to get used to walking side by side with them, but it still felt a bit strange. People were coming to the temple to sacrifice, just like you, and they were all turning to look at you and greet you.

"I want to get to the palace for the banquet at once," Geta said, sounding a bit impatient. "You must be hungry. You were busy this morning," he said quietly.

You looked at him, "Yes, you're right, thank you again, by the way, much appreciated, highness."

"Oh, these stairs... Hold out your arm," he said in a commanding tone.

Geta was wearing a white and black toga with gold embroidery and it was very elaborate. He looked like he was struggling and didn't like you looking at him hesitantly. "Aren't you going to help me?"

You forced a smile and held out your arm for him to take. It was starting to feel a little strange that he wanted to touch you all the time, but you didn't object because you wanted to be on good terms as brother and sister.

You noticed an old woman approaching you just after descending the steps. One of the guards pushed her away and she fell to the ground. Geta ignored her, as did Caracalla and his mother. It bothered you so much that you let go of Geta's arm and walked over there.

You ignored the guard's warning and helped the woman off the floor. Her clothes were torn, dirty and old; she must have been a beggar. You felt sorry for her.

'What are you doing?' Geta was upset.

The woman bowed her head. 'My lady, thank you.'

You turned to Geta. 'Could I possibly borrow some coins?’

‘Get away from her, look at the way she's dressed, she's filthy.’ He was looking at her with a disgusted expression.

‘It's a festival day and as emperor, shouldn't you embrace all your people?’

He opened his eyes wide. ‘Embrace? I can't even lay a hand on her!’ He balled his hands into fists and pulled them back as if trying to hide them.

‘I meant metaphorically,’ you rolled your eyes at him.

Geta took a moment to compose himself and gestured to one of his slaves, who came running over with a pouch full of coins. You took it from him and presented it to her.

'May the gods bless you, Lady Aurelia!' she said, falling at your feet. You graciously took her by the hand and lifted her up.

‘That is enough,' Geta said, grasping your arm and drawing you closer. As the woman prayed joyfully, the crowd began to murmur.

“Long live Emperor Geta!” The crowd began to chant, "Long live Lady Aurelia!"

Geta was taken aback not by the fact that they were shouting his name, but rather by the proximity of the crowd. It was the first time he had ever felt so close to the people on the street.

'Please be sure to wash your hands thoroughly when you arrive at the palace,' he muttered.

You giggled and looked around as he greeted the people, but you did not see the general. He had said he was coming to the banquet anyway, so you got into the carriage with Geta, hoping to see him there, and you thought about him the whole way.

—-

Domus Severiana…

As the sun began to set, casting the courtyard and kitchen of Domus Severiana in a golden glow, preparations were underway with great enthusiasm. The slaves were meticulously preparing a selection of exquisite dishes and beverages for the guests who were expected to take their place in the main courtyard. Julia was there to oversee the proceedings, offering guidance and encouragement to ensure everything was just right. Caracalla was already relaxing in one of the armchairs in the courtyard, enjoying an apple. When one of the slaves unfortunately stumbled and dropped the tray, he reacted with amusement, but then proceeded to issue a firm reprimand. While this was taking place in the main courtyard, you were in your room, discussing attire with Decima, when the door to your room suddenly opened. You were startled when Geta rushed in, as you wearing your long, thin tunic.

"Even if you're the emperor, it's always worth being polite, don't you think?"

He smiled. "Watch your tone. Who says I'm interested in your body anyway?" He looked away as a slave girl walked in. The girl was carrying a light turquoise silk cloth in her arms.

"You always wear the same style of dress, your hair the same way, you don't look like a princess. You should take some care of yourself. So this girl, what's her name, what's your name?”

“Nerissa, your highness-”

"Oh, whatever!" he interjected. "Make sure you dress her and do the princess's hair with care." He turned to you. "She's got amazing hands-on skills. You wouldn't believe what she can do. She's really talented," he said with a grin.

She giggled. “Anything for my emperor.”

‘I'm assuming your whore friend isn't that talented,’ he said, narrowing his eyes, looking at Decima.

‘Please don't call her that,’ you snapped.

‘'Weren't you supposed to take her on my behalf?'  She's my slave, I can call her whatever I want,’ he said smugly.

It was true anyway as it was his name on the documents.

‘Still, courtesy is a virtue, brother.’‘

"Not for me,’ he said, grinning. ‘Get dressed now,’ he said, clapping his hands. “Join me in the main courtyard when you're done,” he said to his slave, then turned to you. “You too, sister."

You inhaled deeply when he left, you didn't like him barging into your room like that and talked badly about Decima.

He was acting like a naughty little child, as usual.

'Please excuse him,' you said Decima.

She shook her head. 'Never mind, I'd rather put up with a lot of insults here than there as a whore. I'll always remember what you did for me.’

You gave her a hug. She felt like your real family; you valued her a great deal.

'He was right though, you need to get dressed,' Decima said, and with the help of the other girl they began to dress you.

Meanwhile, you were thinking about Marcus. You were wondering if he'd arrived already. You hadn't seen him since morning and now you were getting impatient. Your answer to his marriage proposal is already set in your mind. But you were also worried about how Geta and Caracalla would react – it was hard to predict what they'd do.

'You were certainly born to be a princess, my lady,' she said, looking at you.

Decima smiled. 'Indeed.'

You looked in the mirror and thought you looked pretty good in the turquoise gold embroidered dress and shawl, which matched the gold bracelets on your arms and the necklace around your neck. Geta was right – the girl had done your hair perfectly. One of the braids had gone over the top of your head like a crown and was pinned into the hair at the nape of your neck.

'You're talented. My brother was right.’

She gave a shy smile. 'I'm pleased to be able to help prepare such a beautiful lady as you.'

You smiled back. 'Now, you can go to my brother. He seems to like you.'

Her cheeks flushed a little. It would be a good idea for you to get to know her better since Geta seems to like her.

'Let me know if he's not feeling well, okay?' 'But you've got to keep it between us, can I trust you?'

'Of course, my lady.' She nodded.

Once she'd left the room, Decima came over to help you with your earrings. She still had bruises on her face.

'Have you been using the ointment I prepared for you?’

‘Yes, thank you, Ay-, my lady.’

‘Call me Aurelia when no one's around.’

‘I suppose, I'll have to get used to it.’

She combed the hair that was falling on your shoulder.

'You stay in the room and rest for today.’ You said to her.

Although she was a bit reluctant at first, she agreed. It was already a very busy day, so no one would notice.

As you left your room and headed for the stairs, you found that the weight of the fabric made it a bit difficult to move your legs freely. You made your way down the stairs, and grabbed hold of the gold-embroidered railing for support. As you strolled towards the main courtyard, your heart started to beat faster when you heard the sounds of masculine laughter coming from inside. Geta and Caracalla were sitting at the banqueting hall, enjoying the food and drink that was laid out in front of them. The members of the Senate, the patricians and their wives were already settled in their seats. Julia was sitting next to Caracalla, chatting with an older member of the Senate.

As soon as you entered the hall, you were the focus of everyone's attention, and the murmuring ceased. Even the slaves paused in their activities to observe you, but then they resumed their tasks. Geta stood up and approached you. "Look how gorgeous my sister is. Would you come and take your seat?" He gestured to the seat next to him. You smiled at him and did as he said, the murmuring had returned, now everyone was looking at you and chatting. But the only person you wanted to see, Marcus, was nowhere to be seen, and you looked around with a hint of disappointment.

"My lady." Your cousin Gaius came over to you. "May I speak to you privately for a moment?" he held out his hand.

"Leave my sister alone and let her eat something, Gaius," Geta said, a little annoyed. He was still chewing the morsel in his mouth, and you pursed your lips to try to keep from laughing. Caracalla already laughed for you.

"That's alright, brother. I'll be right back," you said and stood up. Gaius seemed a little annoyed that you ignored his hand, but he regained his composure quickly. You were not particularly curious about what he was going to say, but it might be a good way to pass the time until the general arrived. As you walked slowly with Gaius from the main courtyard to the one close to the entrance, you realized he was becoming increasingly excited.

"You look beautiful, Aurelia."

"Thank you," you replied, your gaze fixed on the entrance door. You wonder why he isn't here yet.

"I hope you don't mind me mentioning that I've kept your father's letter for years. I have been eagerly awaiting the opportunity to open it for quite some time. Hoping desperately.”

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it seems that after your mother's passing, your relatives in Leptis Magna were interested in offering you their protection. However, your father, my uncle, felt it was best to take a different approach, sending you away I mean.”

You were unexpectedly touched by the mention of your mother and found yourself standing in front of the statue of your father. "He was hopeful that you would return and reclaim your birthright, and that your brothers would accept you. Given my familiarity with them and the Empress, I believe he gave me this assignment," he said, looking at the statue. "I am truly honored to have been assigned the task of protecting you. I hope you will allow me to be of service to you in the future."

“In the future?”

Gaius smiled. "I would be able to protect you more easily if you would allow me to marry you."

You were momentarily at a loss for words. As you considered how to decline his proposal without offending him, you observed a figure moving across the main courtyard towards the banquet. It appeared to be a man wearing a red shawl over his shoulders. It seemed likely to be him. However, when he soon disappeared between the columns, you couldn't help but frown. You felt a desire to pursue him.

"My lady, will you not answer?" Gaius was waiting hopefully.

"Sir Gaius, I am truly flattered, but I am afraid I will unlikely accept your offer."

“May I ask why?" His voice betrayed no hint of curiosity. Again, it seemed as though he already had an idea of the answer. You were not interested in engaging similarly.

"I'm obliged to tell you that my heart belongs to someone else. I'm sorry, sir.”

He seemed rather unsurprised, which might give rise to some suspicion.

"I'm just asking you to think a little more, take your time, if you don't mind."

"No matter how much I think about it, I'm fairly certain my answer won't change."

Gaius seemed angry.

"I would like to return to my brothers now," you said, your voice calm and measured.

"As you wish, but I am a very patient man," he said with a smile and accompanied you towards the banquet hall.

You returned to the courtyard, your eyes seeking out his presence. You were relieved to see him right in front of Geta and Caracalla, and your spirits were lifted. Acacius looked quite splendid, wearing a long red shawl over his white tunic embroidered with gold and a large circular brooch pinned to his collar.

He appeared to be engaged in conversation with the emperors. He was holding a wine glass of a blue hue. When Geta and Caracalla turned their heads towards you, he looked back. When you met his eyes, you smiled. He observed you with great interest.

"My lady," he greeted you.

"General Acacius, welcome," you nodded.

The General's attention was drawn to Gaius as he approached from behind and narrowed his eyes.

"Sister, you might be interested to hear what General Acacius said to us." Geta said to you in a slightly louder voice.

”What is it?" You looked at the general and realized he was smiling.

"He wants our permission to marry you, how kind of him!”

“He always is." Caracalla said, leaning back in his chair and grinning. His slaves sat around him, watching curiously.

Your cheeks were flushed, and you looked at him to explain, but Gaius interjected.

'General Acacius had the opportunity to speak with you first, and it was with the same intention that I wished to speak to your Majesties.'

Geta raised his eyebrows and looked at Caracalla, who seemed to display a certain degree of animosity whenever he saw Gaius. Julia muttered something. Caracalla responded to his mother's words with a lighthearted laugh.

"I have already given you my answer, Sir Gaius," you said, looking at Geta. You were hoping he would reject him.

Acacius placed a hand to his chin and smiled in a way that seemed to indicate he was trying to suppress his laughter.

"I told you I was patient, my lady."

"Cut it off! I've had enough of your love intrigues!" Caracalla cried out in frustration. Macrinus was supposed to bring a gladiator. Where is he?"

"This is like a fight, brother. Don't you think? Two gentlemen against each other over a princess. Impressive.” Geta grinned.

The atmosphere was palpably tense as Acacius and Gaius exchanged unpleasant glances.

"I am here, Your Highness," Macrinus declared, appearing behind you. He was flanked by the gladiator slave you had seen earlier at his villa.

He gave Gaius a quick glance, then came to stand beside Geta.

‘My lady, please have a seat,’ the General said, gesturing towards the chair.

You smiled at him and did as he suggested, and he stood beside you. One of the slaves handed you some wine. You would have liked to talk to Marcus, but there were too many people around. Besides, he seemed to be watching Macrinus' gladiator with some unease. Geta and Caracalla, on the contrary, looked excited.

"So this is your gladiator?" Geta asked.

‘It is.’

‘Very well, let's see what he can do.’ Caracalla grinned.

At Macrinus' signal, the gladiator made his way to the center, and the people around him shifted slightly to give him space.

Both men saluted the emperors, and promptly drew their swords and advanced towards the gladiator, but he was swift and agile, evading their attacks and seizing one of the men by the elbow. He then disarmed him and struck him forcefully in the face with the back of his elbow. As the man was momentarily disoriented, the gladiator swiftly retrieved the sword and advanced towards the other man. The sound of swords clashing echoed through the hall, and a sword fight commenced between the two. The other man approached from behind, but the gladiator was able to avoid both the sword blow and the man's attack. He then grabbed the man by the waist, threw him to the ground, and hit him repeatedly in the face.

Your entire body was visibly tense, your hands firmly grasping the fabric of your dress. Caracalla sat up in his chair and watched intently, so something like this could only excite him.

When the man collapsed, bloodied and unconscious, the gladiator managed to overpower the other man with his sword and quick footwork. Unfortunately, this left them both without swords. The man was more physically fit and appeared to be more determined than the gladiator. He advanced towards him and grabbed him by the belt and then by the waist and threw him backward with some force to the ground, which resulted in one of the tables full of food being knocked over. You felt yourself becoming increasingly tense as the food and drinks were scattered around, and you saw the general moving in front of you. Guests were murmuring and applauding, but they continued to watch with interest.

The gladiator was covered in blood, but he was smiling. He quickly wiped the blood off his face with the back of his hand and waited for the man to make a move. When the man made a sudden advance, shouting, the gladiator responded by moving swiftly to strike at his leg. When the man faltered, the gladiator took the opportunity to strike him several times in the face with his chin, attempting to knock him to the ground. However, the man remained standing. At that moment, the gladiator took the sword from the ground and, in a swift and decisive move, drove it through the man's stomach. You were taken aback as blood spattered everywhere from the man's abdomen. Some of the people in the hall expressed their shock and dismay, while others were visibly excited.  Geta and Caracalla expressed their admiration for his performance, and their slaves joined in the applause. The gladiator respectfully placed his sword on the ground and bowed his head in deference to them. The air was filled with a distinctive, pungent odor of blood. You felt a queasy sensation in your stomach, not due to the smell of blood, but because the blood was still flowing from the cut in the abdomen of the man lying lifeless on the ground. While the majority of the people present were expressing their approval with cheers and whistles, you and the general were the only ones who did not join in.

Geta stood up and gave a little clap. "That's fantastic!" "I love it!"

"I'm really looking forward to the new games," Caracalla said.

"Whenever you wish, Your Majesty," said Macrinus with a smile.

"Tomorrow!" Geta piped in excitedly.

"Your Majesty, shouldn't we wait until the festival is over?" Julia came over to him.

"No, it'd be too long. How about the last day of the Saturnalia?" "It would be a great way to end the festival," Caracalla said with a grin.

"My brother always has great ideas," he said, grinning at him.

You turned your head to look away as the guards pulled the bodies of the men out of the ground. Macrinus and Gaius went over to the gladiator and started talking to him about something. The general had noticed your nervousness.

"My lady, would you like to go for a walk?"

“Your face has gone white, sister.” Geta was looking at you with a grin. Caracalla laughed, “As a Medicus, shouldn't you be used to see blood?”

You stood up. “I need to get some air,” you said and looked at the general. “General Acacius, accompany me, please.”

He nodded and bowed to the emperors before following you.

There was still blood on the ground outside, so you decided to walk the other way. Soon the General came up to you.

“Are you alright?” there was concern in his voice.

“Yes,” you lied. “I'm not used to this and I don't think I want to get used to it.”

"Perhaps you would like to hold my hand?" he enquired, holding out his big hand towards you.

His eyes were warm, looking at them, you felt a sense of relief from the tension you had been feeling.

The only other people in the courtyard were the slaves, who were enjoying the day. The sounds of musical instruments soon filled the main courtyard, creating a festive atmosphere. When you held Acacius' hand, you felt your skin warm, touching his skin always gives you a reassuring warmth. "So you mentioned to my brothers that you wished to marry me," you said as you walked through the garden in the east courtyard.

"That is correct," he said with a smile. “But, I would like to hear your answer before they say anything."

As you strolled past the garden fountain, the soothing sound of the flowing water was a welcome respite from the slightly more vibrant melody playing in the courtyard.

You moved to stand in front of Acacius, holding both hands and looking into his eyes.

"I would be honored to be your wife, General."

The brown of his eyes shone brightly, and as he took a step towards you, you involuntarily stepped back, for some reason his overwhelming gaze had that effect on you. He couldn't help but seem to like it, he raised his hands and cupped your face in his palms. Your cheeks are blessed by his touch.

"I should be the happiest man on this auspicious day," he said softly, brushing his lips against yours. Then he kissed you gently.

Your lips were pleased to meet his lips again, and a heat spread through your body under his lips. Marcus lowered his arms and took hold of you around the waist, pulling you closer to him. You brought your arms up and wrapped them around his neck, and the kiss became more passionate. You both yearned for each other's bodies, whispering your desire through your lips. Marcus forced to stop himself when his hand reached your shoulder, his lips stilling under yours and turning into a smile, his mustache tickling your upper lip. Breathless, opened your eyes to meet his eyes, his hands still on your waist, yours still on his thick neck.

"Perhaps we should save the rest for our wedding night, my lady." He said with a hint of mischief in his voice. He was gently running his fingers through your hair with one hand. "Patience is my best friend yet my worst enemy." He kissed a strand of your hair in the palm of his hand. You slid your hands to his broad shoulders.

"My enemy for sure," you said, frowning. He laughed merrily, caressed your nose with his nose, and kissed your forehead. "You always manage to cheer me up, my lady." The music from the main courtyard was getting louder. Marcus took a step back and held out his arm.

"Maybe we should head back to the banquet?"

You gave a slight nod and took his arm. The music evoked memories of your time in Egypt.

Vicius, your uncle, was mindful of the fact that festival days were not the ideal time for you to be out and about, but he was ultimately swayed by your persistent requests. Even if you were unable to fully observe the other girls dancing through your large black cloak, you still enjoyed being there. As you observed the girls dancing in the main courtyard, a young slave approached you at a brisk pace.

"General Acacius, the Emperors want to see you."

Marcus nodded and turned to you. "I'll see what they want. Would you like to come?”

Shaking your head. ”I'm not quite ready to go in there yet.”

"As you please, my lady.” He agreed.

You watched him as he took his leave of you, releasing your hand and entering the banquet hall. You were curious as to whether this was a decision about marriage, but you felt it would be best to wait until Macrinus and his gladiator had left.

As you made your way towards the slave girls, who were dancing with evident joy, you came to realise how happy they were. Today was a day of freedom for them, as they were able to enjoy the same food and drinks. They were not expected to do much work today. Geta's slave, the one who dressed you, approached and respectfully inquired, "Lady Aurelia, would you like to join us?"

"Dancing? I've never danced before."

"It's really quite simple. Just allow yourself to become absorbed in the rhythm of the music.”

You noticed she was taking her time deciding whether to take your hand, so you smiled and grasped it. "Then go ahead and teach me."

She giggled, pulling you towards the others.

When you approached them the slaves stopped dancing and looked at you, a little unsure and curious.

"Why did you stop?" "Go on, I want to dance," you said with an encouraging smile.

They looked at each other, smiled back, and started dancing again. Another girl took your other hand, and you all formed a circle. Then they stood facing each other and guided you as you passed through each other. The girl who was Geta's slave was right—it was easy to dance when you let yourself go to the rhythm of the music. It felt great to experience something you'd wanted for so long but hadn't had the chance. 

"You're doing great, my lady." The girl replied with a smile.

"It's so much fun," you said with a smile.

When you switched places with the girl, dancing again, you suddenly noticed that people were gathering around you.

"It looks like our sister is enjoying herself," Geta said, coming up behind you. You stopped and looked at him with embarrassment. Gaius and the others were standing next to him, smiling and observing you. But you found yourself glancing at the general standing behind them. He was smiling, but it seemed like he was lost in thought. The joy he had when he was with you was gone. Something bad is definitely going on, you thought.

"Our ideas of fun and yours are quite different," Caracalla muttered.

What was the fun in watching people cutting each other?

"Yes, I think it is," you replied.

"Then I'm afraid you're not going to like what I'm about to say," Geta said, coming up to you.

Your eyebrows arched, seeking clarification on his meaning.

"As a family, we have been pondering the matter of two marriage proposals and have reached a decision." He gazed at Caracalla.

Caracalla laughed, which was a pretty clear sign that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be something you would like.

"Two candidates, two rivals, one fight, and the winner gets the girl. How does that sound?”

"It's a real battle.” Geta grinned.

You swallowed hard, your ears were betraying you. You couldn't make sense of what you were hearing.

“What is the meaning of this?"

Geta placed his hand gently on your shoulder. "Of course, our cousin Gaius is not a warrior. He is, after all, a politician, so it seems that Macrinus' gladiator will stand for him. General Acacius is a formidable opponent, as you may know.”

You felt your whole body go numb in shock.

"That man's rage is more than enough to rival the General," Caracalla snapped.

"We'll see," Geta replied.

"There's got to be another way," you said, your voice trembling a little.

"The decision has been made. What are you worried about?" I'm sure it'll be a great game.

"Please, brother," you said, looking at Geta with pleading eyes, but he seemed determined. He made you walk a little away from them, with Caracalla accompanying you.

“Come now, sister, don't you trust the General's great fighting skills?”

The general's expression was solemn when you looked up at him from afar.

"If you choose Gaius, you might find yourself widowed pretty quickly. I'll take him out before he gets to Leptis Magna," Caracalla whispered, cruel smile appeared on his face.

Geta snickered. “Of course, she won't choose that cunt,” he said, looking at you.

"If you are certain of my choice, why do you play this game? Does my decision not matter at all?"

Before Geta could reply, Caracalla spoke up. "You have accepted us as your family. Decisions like this are made between family. You should show some respect to us.”

"Besides, they should be worthy of you. You're not just any person. You're a Roman princess. Let them fight for you." Geta chuckled.

This made you even angrier. You wanted to slap them both. Everything was a game to them. But you hated that you had to risk losing Marcus because of their childish but dangerous games. You felt your chest hurt.

The festival was over for you, there was no more joy, no more fun. For the rest of the night, all the laughter and music did nothing but torture you. Marcus was also silent and his face was expressionless as he looked at you from a distance.

——

The city was enjoying a well-deserved rest on the first night of the festival. It seemed that everyone and everything had decided to sleep, except you. Your mind was preoccupied with a particular thought. Marcus. The thought of losing him for such a silly pastime felt so wrong.  From your position on the bed, you gazed upwards at the moonlight that was gently filtering through the long window of the spacious room. The gold-embroidered part of the curtain caught your eye when it came into contact with the reflected light, as it shone gently in the moonlight. You decided to get out of bed, as you felt you couldn't sleep anyway. You thought it might be a good idea to get some fresh air. You exited the room and proceeded towards the balcony within. The view from the balcony at night was quite amazing. The Circus Maximus, the hippodrome where horse races were held during the day, appeared to be resting peacefully. The Tiber River, which flows into the sea between Palatine Hill and Aventine Hill, appeared to shine brightly in the night darkness, as though bathed in moonlight. Just beyond the river was a dirt road, the very same road you had traveled many times in a carriage towards the General's villa.

You prayed to Jupiter, hoping that he might consider allowing you to live there as his wife when he won this fight and married you. Then your gaze shifted to the silhouette of the Colosseum, the imposing structure that had previously inspired a certain ambivalence in you. Now, it seemed to stand before you as an adversary. All the battles and games that were fought in it were not enough to take the warriors who died in all the battles and games. It also seemed to want to take away the most valuable person in your life.

You were startled as you heard footsteps approaching behind you.

"I wonder what could have disturbed our princess' sleep?”

Turning your head, you noticed Julia standing beside you, clad only in her long tunic, a style of dress you were not previously accustomed to seeing her in.

Without making eye contact, she approached and placed her arms on the balcony balustrade. You felt a certain degree of nervousness each time you saw her, and the fact that you were alone with her at this late hour only served to heighten your unease. Her long black hair was waving with the light wind of the night. She was a beautiful woman, though her eyes and lips showed a few wrinkles. Cruel beauty.

"You must be thinking about him," she murmured before you could answer.

It was pretty clear to her, even without you telling her. She was a smart woman, so you were sure she realized it the first time she saw you and the General.

"Are they taking revenge on him?" you asked.

“Because he hid you in his villa? Perhaps, but for my sons, a game is a game. Now he's part of it. Things would have turned out differently had you chosen Gaius. But the General decided his own fate from the moment he asked their permission to marry you.”

You didn't answer, despite all the feelings growing within you.

Tiberis (Tiber River),' she murmured. You don't know how happy I was when I found out you had drowned in that river. All my worries were gone.

You remained unresponsive, a shiver ran down your spine, but it was not from the sudden wind.

“But one day you appeared, with your golden hair, the same cheeks that my husband couldn't get enough of kissing, and those innocent hazel eyes, just like the way you looked at me when you were a child, like a stupid, poor kitten. I don't know how I didn't notice the first time I saw you, I must have been so sure you were dead. I must be getting old, I suppose,” she said with a laugh.

It was as if she was having a friendly chat, which made you more nervous. As your eyes roamed the dark silhouette of the Colosseum, you realised that your real enemy was right next to you.

“Are you sure you won't regret rejecting Gaius and not going to Leptis Magna with him?” She looked at you with a hint of mockery in her eyes, but her voice was almost pleading. 'If you're smart, that's what you should do.’

You closed your eyes tightly, took a deep breath and suppressed all the curses that rushed to your tongue. ‘You wish the General to lose? I thought you trusted him?’

‘There are many soldiers in the Legates with his potential, he's not irreplaceable.’

She approached you as you were trying to control your anger. "You are the one who made him a target. You are responsible for what has happened to him and what will happen to him. Remember that, Aurelia." You could hear the hint of a threat in her voice as she said your name.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as she walked back the way she came. You were already blaming yourself. Hearing the same words from her mouth, as if from your own conscience, increased your pain even more.

Marcus... You didn't even want to consider what you'd do if something happened to him. You thought about your uncle and how he handled it when his wife passed away. He was really dedicated to his work. He felt that his only purpose in life was to try to save more people. But you weren't like him. You were sure your body couldn't handle that kind of pain. You didn't feel as strong as he did. You shook your head and tried to push these thoughts out of your mind.

You needed to be strong for him. But how could you possibly do that? How were you going to watch him out there fighting for his life when the very thought of it was enough to make your heart ache?  You'd never seen him fight before, but you'd heard so much about him that you had some hope. Still, your worries held your hopes captive and not releasing them. You let your thoughts torture you for a while longer, accompanied by the sound of crickets echoing in the silence of the night, and finally you walked to your room to try to sleep.

—-

 

Temple of Mars…

The day of the fight.

The temple was relatively quiet when you arrived with Decima in the early hours of the morning. You had come here to sacrifice five pigs to Mars, the god of war. You bowed down in front of the great statue of Mars, which stood in all its majesty in the corner between the protruding tall columns inside, and joined your hands in prayer.

"My Lord, Mars, I beg you to bestow upon me the life of your son Marcus, the man I love, and grant him a victorious outcome today. Juno, the goddess of marriage, I implore you to remove all obstacles that stand in the way of me marrying the man I love. Venus, the goddess of love, I ask for your strength to fight for my love and to guide me to make it stronger. Fortuna, I ask that your fortune favour us today. Jupiter, the god of gods, I beseech you, my lord, to sharpen his sword, to give strength and power to his hands and arms, and to grant him victory. And bring him back to me safe and sound.”

You opened your eyes and saw your tears dripping on your hands, which you'd clasped together on your chest. Decima touched your shoulder and wiped your tears with her thumb.

'The gods will help him, don't you worry anymore.'

You nodded, feeling certain your prayer would be answered, now all that remained was to wait, and time was your worst enemy.

The last person you wanted to see was coming up the steps of the temple. Gaius noticed you and approached you, his smug smile infuriating you.

'My lady, I believe you've come to pray.'

'That's right, that's why I'm here, but I wonder if I might ask why you are here? I thought you weren't going to fight for yourself?" you asked sarcastically.

"I'm the one who has the advantage with the power of thought. Physical strength is of no consequence against it."

"Then perhaps you've come to the wrong temple. You should go to the temple of Mercury."

"My lady, I am in the right place because I have come here to ask Mars to grant General Acacius absolute defeat.”

You clenched your hands into fists, your whole body filled with rage.

‘Once he's out of the way, there'll be no more obstacles between us. It'll be easy to get rid of Caracalla and Geta. Their names will be forgotten. Think of the power you and I will have if we marry.’

After a long period of frustration, you finally lost your temper and slapped him in anger. Gaius wasn't upset. In fact, he seemed amused as he touched the spot where you had slapped him. The imperial guard who had been protecting you interposed himself between the two of you.

‘I'll never marry you, sir, don't even dream of it.’

‘It was your father's wish, I was with him when he wrote the letter-’ This time his eyes were sharp as he looked at you.

‘I'm not my father!’ The people praying on the steps of the temple turned to you when they realized your loud voice.

‘And he's not here, I'm Aurelia, and I decide my own life. Don't you ever threaten me again. Or my brothers. Especially the man I love.’

The imperial guard stepped forward nervously noticing people approaching you.

‘Princess Aurelia!’

You turned your head when someone called out your name. They quickly gathered around you, looking at you with sincerity and admiration. Gaius seemed uncomfortable with them.

One woman approached you and said, "My lady, we've heard that General Acacius will fight for you, so we pray for his safety and survival.”

They had come here with the same intention as you, which made you very happy.

'The General has saved this city many times, we're grateful to him,' someone said.

'We're still breathing thanks to him!' another shouted. You looked at Gaius with a smile, a smile he knew the meaning of ‘Suck it’.

‘I think you’re done here, Sir Gaius.’

The crowd regarded him with a certain degree of displeasure, and some of them advanced towards him. Gaius retreated, nearly losing his footing on the stairs in the process. As he made his way out of the area, the crowd turned their attention to you.

“Thanks to your prayers, General Acacius will hopefully achieve a victory today at the Colosseum.”

The crowd responded with joyous shouts. They were now shouting his name. As you smiled at them and descended the stairs, you noticed a familiar face ahead. Octavius was standing by his horse and, upon recognizing you, approached you with haste.

‘My lady, you summoned me.

You asked for him before you came to the temple because you wanted to speak to him about something.

'Yes, thank you for coming by.'

'Of course, my lady,' he bowed his head respectfully.

You smiled at him. 'It seems you were right all along.'

He looked at you, surprised. 'I beg your pardon, my lady?'

“You always called me a lady, and you were right. I was. You were always kind to me, Octavius. Even when you knew I was a slave, you were always respectful, and I'm grateful to you for that.”

“The pleasure's mine, my lady. But may I ask why you wanted to see me?’

'As a good friend of the general, I wanted to ask you to take me to him before the fight.’

Octavius’ expression changed. 'My lady, with all due respect, this is no place for women.’

You looked at him with absolute determination. 'Otherwise I wouldn't have asked you to accompany me, would I?'

—-

The Colosseum…

Hours before the battle…

The Colosseum had lots of rooms and underground passages. This was where animals and gladiators were kept, waiting to meet their fate in the arena above. It wasn't a straightforward place to get into, especially not for a woman.

Octavius was pretty nervous about letting you into this underground tunnel. If you'd asked the royal guards to do it, it'd probably have got back to Geta or Caracalla, who'd have wanted to stop or prevent you. But you had to see him before he went into the arena.

However, your plan was about to be thwarted. The guards at the entrance to the large iron gate were quite big and stopped you.

'There's no room for women here, so you'd better go back.'

Even if you wore a cloak, your clothes and hair showed your physical features. So you decided to remove it.

"I'm Princess Aurelia. Let me through, please. I'd like to speak with General Acacius."

The guards looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Did they think you were lying?

'Why would a princess come with only one soldier?' one of the guards asked.

'I'm the General's second-in-command, Octavius. Let us through, now.' Octavius ordered.

'My lady,'

You heard a familiar voice and looked in that direction. It was Macrinus.

His voice came from inside, and soon he appeared at the door.

'How dare you keep the Princess at the door? Let her through, now!'

The men immediately bowed their heads, apologised and opened the door.

'My lady, I think you're here to see the General?' His smile made you feel uneasy, as it always did.

Octavius picked up a torch and followed you at a safe distance, each sound echoing off the narrow walls as he travelled through the stone tunnels.

"I understand your wish to see him for the last time.”

You stopped suddenly, your footsteps echoed through the cave-like walls.

"Sir Macrinus, if I may continue with Sir Octavius for the rest of the way."

Macrinus smiled and said, 'As you wish, my lady. I'm done here anyway. I'll see you upstairs in the stands.' He walked towards the door. You continued on your way, not letting his confident demeanor unnerve you.

'Oh, by the way, don't be scared when you see the tiger ahead, he can smell fear,' he said before walking out the door.

You couldn't believe your ears. Did he mean it metaphorically? You looked at Octavius, who didn't look surprised.

‘It's in a cage, don't worry,’ he explained.

‘Tiger, a real tiger?’ You raised your eyebrow.

‘Yes. There are many animals here, stay close to me, my lady.’

A little later, you came to a roundabout where another iron gate was waiting for you. This time, you could hear lots of voices coming from the corridors. You could hear lots of men, swords being sharpening, doors opening and closing, and a roar. When you saw the corridor where the animals were kept, you had a bit of a shock. The tiger was there, a big one, much bigger than you'd imagined when you'd heard its name. And it was just as scary. You stood there, frozen in fear, locked in its green eyes, as if it was trying to find where the fear was hiding inside you. It was an amazingly beautiful and extremely dangerous predator. A moment later, it let out a roar as if it had found the fear. Octavius grabbed you by the shoulders as you jumped back, trembling with fear.

'Are you alright, my lady?' Let's head back if you're not feeling well.

You couldn't help but laugh hysterically. 'It's beautiful.’

Octavius confused.

You tried to pull yourself together quickly and concentrate on the reason you had come here, but the tiger was so beautiful that you couldn't take your eyes off him. Before long, one of the guards prodded the tiger's hind leg with a spear. The animal let out a roar in pain but then collapsed and rested its huge head on its front legs.

The guard bowed to you and said, 'It's a dangerous animal, my lady. You shouldn't get too close.'

You nodded at him, but it was hard to believe that such a beautiful and dangerous animal could be so close. You could stare at it for hours.

'My lady, this way,' Octavius said, pointing the other corridor. There were gladiators and other warriors in this corridor. All waiting to fight resting in dungeons, conditions were unfavorable. As you passed through them, you bowed your head, feeling their curious eyes on you.

You felt regret taking off your cloak because you were wearing a elegant dress that left your arms and neck exposed, and revealing that you belonged to the imperial family. You had Geta to thank for that, after all, lately, he loved to interfere with your attire.

“A princess?”

“Look at this beauty.”

“I would gladly die for you, my beautiful lady.”

A few masculine whistles and laughs, murmurs, you could feel your cheeks turning red, your mouth got dry. Hearing a few dirty comments, Octavius kicked the iron bars of the cell where they were being held.

“Shut the hell up!”

You felt relief to move from this corridor to another, quieter one, where you saw a familiar face. It was Cato, the General's squire.

"My lady, sir." He greeted you.

Instead of iron bars, there was an iron door and an armory. It was filled with swords, axes, bows and arrows, shields and many other implements of war.

"Is the General inside?" Octavius asked.

"Yes, I just helped him put on his armor," he said and knocked on the door.

You were nervous and excited, and when the door opened, Octavius nodded then looked at you.

You walked through the door with quick steps, met his eyes. The eyes you had come all this way for.

His eyes showed surprise and then anger.

“I'll leave you two alone.” Octavius closed the door and left to avoid her harsh gaze.

“What are you doing here,” he came toward you, so attractive even in his anger.

“I needed to see you, before...” you swallowed, unable to finish the sentence.

“It's not appropriate for you to be here, how could you do that?”

The general seemed to be wearing his leather armbands.

“Let me,” you murmured and approached him.

He held out his arm for you and waited, all the while keeping his eyes on you.

Once you finished, put your hands on his broad shoulders. Under your hands, you felt the material of the leather armor he had just put on. It was the same armor he wore when you first met, with gold detailing on the edges and a medusa on his chest. His expression softened at your touch.

"You always act without thinking," he said with a hint of disapproval.

"I've heard that before," you replied with a smile.

He placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him, his eyes tracing the outline of your lips. You could feel his gaze on them.

"You are my only weakness, your presence is the only thing that distracts me."

"Perhaps it would be best if I waited here for you? I don't want to watch anyway.”

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I'd like you to sit there and watch me." He cupped your face between his hands, and you could feel your heart beating faster. "Because, my beautiful princess,, it's only you who gives me strength."

Marcus pressed his lips to yours and kissed you gently.

"I prayed in the temple for you to win," you whispered. "Marcus, you have to win. I can't bear to see anything happen to you."

"I will win, my lady. For you, for us." He kissed your forehead and embraced you.

You prayed the gods for the last time as you rested your head on his chest, your body in his arms. Suddenly the sound of drums startled you. Turned your head in the direction of the sound, accompanied by the sound of the crowd and whistles. Marcus pressed his lips to the top of your head and pulled himself back.

“It's time, you'd better go now.”

You nodded. “I love you, Marcus.” your voice was shaking.

One of his heart-melting smiles appeared on his face.

“I love you more, my beautiful Aurelia.”

—-

Ima Cavea… (tribune that reserved for the Emperor and senates)

“Sister, where were you? You were almost late.” Geta scolded you. You were pleased that Julia was sitting next to Caracalla, while you sat in one of the gold-embroidered seats belonging to the royal family next to Geta. The farther away from her the better it was for you. However, Gaius was sitting right next to you and smiling at you in a way that made you feel uneasy. You turned your head away from him and looked at Geta.

“What happened to your face?”

He rolled his eyes. “War makeup, if you hadn't gone to the temple earlier I would have given you this makeup too, tough luck sister.” he said pursing his lips.

“Good thing I preferred to go to the temple then,” you muttered.

He laughed. Caracalla whispered something in his ear. Geta leaned toward you with a mischievous expression. “Would you like to give the opening speech?”

You gave him a stink-eye. He grinned with all his teeth at your expression.

“Okay, I'll do it.”

He stood up and took a step forward, raising his arms in salute as the announcer announced his name to the crowd.

“People of Rome! We are gathered today for an epic closing to the last day of the festival. The day's champions of the auspicious ceremony, incredibly talented gladiators, will fight and stand for our beloved cousin Gaius Septimius Severus Aper!”

“He forgot to mention ‘consul ordinarius’ title of mine.” Gaius said, offended.

“No one cares,” you snapped.

Caracalla laughed hard, Geta joined him in, both looking at you like ‘good one’.  You ignored them, not in the mood for jokes.

With the sound of drums and trumpets, the iron gates opened with roar and four gladiators entered the arena. You weren't an expert in fighting and you didn't have a lot of experience as a spectator, but you had a pretty good idea of what to expect. But why were there four gladiators? Caracalla stood up and came to Geta, applauding with excitement and joy. The gladiators stood in position in front of your tribune with their shields and spears and gave the salute.

“Ave Imperatores, morituri te salutant!” Hail Emperors, those who are about to die salute you!”

“In fact, you should salute both us and our sister today,” he beckoned you to him. You opened your eyes wide, not expecting surely. Julia let out a hissing sound, and the senators murmured behind you. As you stood up, the crowd started to cheer louder. You took Geta's hand, tentatively at first.

“Princess Aurelia!” Crowded shouted.

You whispered to Geta as the crowd chanted your name.

“Wasn't there supposed to be a one-on-one fight?”

“That would be boring, wouldn't it, my dear?”

"Clearly you haven't had the opportunity to observe the General in combat before, Caracalla said, leaning towards you behind Geta. “Hurry brother, call him to show up, lets get them started at once,” he whined to him, clapping his hands.

Geta nodded, “And the man who will fight against them is known and respected by all of you, The Glorius General Marcus Acacius, commander of the southern armies, General of the Six Legions and protector of Rooome!”

Geta's loud cry was pretty deafening.

The soldiers who opened the other door for their General greeted him and wished him good fortune. The crowd roared as Marcus, sword in hand shining under the sunlight, the sands of the arena turning to dust beneath his feet as he stepped in front of the gladiators. You experienced a range of emotions simultaneously, including excitement, tension, fear unease.

Marcus turned towards you, put his sword on his shoulder, and nodded.

“Ave Imperatores, ave Filia Regis, morituri te salutant!” Hail Emperors, hail Princess, who are about to die salute you!”

Even though the word ‘about to die’ hurts, you smiled at him, and he bowed his head in response.

“Begiiiin!” Geta shouted.

“Gods bear witneeeeess!” Caracalla joined him.

The crowd went wild with excitement, and the beat of the drums grew louder. Since the gladiators were discussing strategy and walking away from him Marcus turned to face the other way, looks very calm. It didn't seem fair that they had spears, swords at their waists and shields in their hands, but Marcus had only a sword. Had he specifically chosen it himself? It didn't make sense, and you were almost angry with Marcus for it. But you were about to be wrong.

As one of the gladiators ran towards Marcus, he took a defensive stance, kicked the sand off the ground with the tip of his toe and darted towards him. In a swift and decisive move, he dodged his attack by spinning as if he was dancing and struck him hard with his sword from behind. Marcus quickly picked up the shield that had fallen from his hand and turned to the others, your eyes fixed on the sand where blood from the cut spread across the floor of the arena. You stared with your jaw dropped.

Geta and Caracalla looked at each other with laughter. They cursed and commented, their eyes fixed on the action. You observed Gaius, seated next to you, appearing somewhat disgruntled, which prompted a smile to emerge on your face. Yet you tensed again as the three remaining gladiators circling around Marcus. He glanced at each of them, ready for any attack. One of them roared and charged at him, pointing the tip of his spear at him, the long spear jabbed, but Marcus grabbed the tip of his shield, shoved it aside and charged at the gladiator, his great sword flashing. The gladiator swung his spear back, then thrust again. The metal screamed as the tip of the spear slipped from Marcus' shield, cutting the surface and leaving a long, shiny scratch. Another gladiator lunged with his spear, but Marcus turned quickly, allowing it to pierce the shield, but the gladiator could not get it back out and Marcus took advantage of it and swung his sword at him, cutting his exposed leg off. The man let out a cry of pain as blood began to flow from his wound, spreading across the sandy ground. Marcus made one last move and rushed after the other, cutting his neck and the gladiator's lifeless body sprawled on the sandy ground. Other gladiator grunted furiously. He made a ponderous charge to hack at the Marcus's head. He avoided him easily. The crowd roared, whistling and Geta gave a hysterical laugh and clapped. You were uncertain as to how much more nervous you could become. You felt your heart beating in your throat. The two remaining gladiators exchanged glances and signaled to one another. Marcus observed them with his keen gaze, considering the most strategic approach to the upcoming confrontation, taking the movement of their feet into account. One of them made a quick lunge for his stomach, but Marcus was thrown back and it was ineffective. Marcus cut him, but not where he wanted, he missed.

Then, dodging at the last moment as the gladiator lunged for his right breast, he lunged for the tip of the spear. Marcus was close enough to strike suddenly, his sword gleaming in a blur of steel. The crowd screamed as well. As the tip of the spear was useless, the Gladiator threw it away and drew his sword, but Marcus was much faster, grasping quickly the spear that the other gladiator he had just cut down had left on the ground and thrusting it deep into his groin. The gladiator groaned in pain and staggered backward, struggling to stand and finally collapsing to his knees. The last remaining gladiator, the banquet-show gladiator, Macrinus' and Geta's favourite, lunged angrily at Marcus. Geta stood up excitedly, Caracalla leaned forward to see better, and you put your hands together and began to pray. He was the gladiator you feared the most.

Metal met metal with an ear-splitting clang, sending the Marcus reeling. Gladiator followed, bellowing. They didn't use words anymore, just animalistic roaring.The gladiator was the first to move, throwing his spear at Marcus as he ran, missing. This time he drew his sword and lunged at him with a roar, throwing his shield at him as well, Marcus paused in the blink of an eye as the pain of the struck shield caused his elbow. But the sword was making several thrusts at him, and Marcus's retreat turned into a flight backward, only inches in front of the great sword that cut through his chest, arms and wrist. You jumped to your feet, Marcus' cuts weren't very deep, but they were enough to make you cried out.

Marcus heard you, but he had to pretend he didn't. He was determined to concentrate and get it over with. He ignored the pain of his cuts and looked at the gladiator, who was smiling triumphantly at him.

Rejoice now while you can, Marcus thought.

He memorised the gladiator's footwork and swiftly planned his attack. The gladiator made the first move, his shiny sword grazing the surface of Marcus' shield with a deafening sound. Marcus seized the opportunity and brought his sword down on the gladiator's head. But it was a ruse. As the gladiator raised his sword to retaliate, Marcus slashed his muscular thigh and kicked him to the ground. The gladiator was dazed by the fall, and Marcus stepped on his hand with his foot, taking the sword from him and hurling it across the arena.The crowd cheered, and Geta gave a standing ovation and shouted with joy. 'What a battle!' 'It's over too soon,' Caracalla grumbled. You were starting to relax a little, but the blood dripping from Marcus's shoulder wasn't helping. When he glanced back at you, you smiled and hoped he saw it.

The crowd suddenly started shouting in unison.

‘KIll! KIll! KIll!’

Marcus looked at Geta. His arm outstretched, everyone eagerly awaiting his decision. But you could already see it in his honey-coloured eyes. Geta turned his thumb down.

The crowd went wild again, cheering and screaming. Marcus looked down at the gladiator, who was barely breathing, lying on the ground. He raised his sword and the man closed his eyes. Marcus may have fought like a beast, but he was no bloodthirsty villain. He brought the sword down swiftly and it stabbed through the sand right next to the gladiator's head. The crowd fell silent. Murmurs replaced the shouts. Geta frowned. Caracalla leaned down from the balustrade in frustration.

‘What the hell is he doing?’

‘Kill him!’ Geta shouted.

Marcus's behavior so moved you that your eyes filled with tears.

Soon the crowd was shouting the chant once used for the great General Maximus.

‘Marcus the merciful!’

Marcus smiled at them and made a gesture of respect, honoring his former commander.

'That's just like him,' Geta commented.

Caracalla made a face. You were happy and proud of him, you couldn't be more in love with him.

Marcus walked towards you while the crowd chanted his name and new nickname.

'My Emperors, I fought for you and won, and I believe I have a right to claim what is rightfully mine.' His eyes shifted to you. It was hard not to throw yourself from where you stood into his strong arms.

Geta laughed, applauding him.

"Naturally, our champion will receive what he deserves." He gazed at you and said, "Let us begin preparations for the wedding of General Acacius and our sister Princess Aurelia at once."

You felt a slight blush come over your cheeks as the crowd expressed their enthusiasm by chanting and cheering your name. Caracalla sat back in his throne and appeared to be somewhat disgruntled. Gaius had already departed. Then the iron gates of the arena opened, and the General was surrounded by his soldiers, who embraced him joyfully, including Octavius. Geta was observing you as you smiled at Marcus with joy, and he was surprised to realise that for the first time in his life he was experiencing a sense of happiness for someone else.

 

 

Chapter 7: The Wedding

Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia…

Where you are Gaius, I am Gaia…

Domus Severiana…

The night before the wedding.

It had been five days since the fight, during which time General Acacius had paid Domus Severiana a visit on two occasions. The exact date of the wedding had also been agreed upon. Your dowry had been arranged by your half-brothers and was in alignment with the General's – your future husband – expectations. Tomorrow promises to be an eventful day in the Domus Severiana, as weddings are usually held in the home of the bride's family according to Roman tradition. After the wedding ceremony, you and your husband would be conveyed to your new home, the General's villa, in a carriage. Fortunately, you were not a stranger to there. You had already spent some time there, although not as his slave this time, but as his wife. You were pleased to be leaving this fascinating place, particularly as you did not intend to spend any time in the same place as Caracalla and Julia. However, with Geta, was a different story. Perhaps he was the only one you would miss, as you felt a certain bond with him. He seemed to feel similarly towards you, but it was challenging to discern his feelings. It seemed like a puzzle that could never be solved.

On that night, in your room in the imperial chamber, on your big bed, you were sitting with Decima, chatting, perhaps for the last time. The slave girl, Geta's favourite, had brought you a bucket of verbena for your bridal wreath-like crown. She had offered to make you the crown you wanted, but you were having trouble deciding on the colour and were seeking their input.

"Perhaps pink would be a good choice?" Decima picked up the pink verbena.

"I'm not sure," you replied, shaking your head doubtfully. "It might not match the colour of the veil.”

"Since your dress will be white, maybe it should be a lighter colour," the other girl suggested, taking a lighter pink from the bucket.

You picked up a white one from the bucket and placed it on your saffron-coloured veil, which was laid at the end of the bed. "I think white is a simple and pure choice. So, the green leaves will complete it."

"Ah, just like a bride, a wonderful choice, my lady."

"Yes, it's beautiful." Decima agreed.

Before you could say anything, Geta burst into the room with a big smile on his face. The girls stood up and greeted him.

"You seem really focused on those flowers, like it's a matter of life and death. Would you also help me with some strategic documents? It's so hard to focus on them," he said sarcastically.

"Isn't that your responsibility? After all, you're the emperor," you teased him.

"Oh, but it's so boring," he replied with a frown.

When he jumped on the bed, next to you, you were startled but not by the shaking he caused.  "Hmm, white, nice." He was lying on his side, propped up on his elbow, supporting his head, picked up a white verbena with his other hand.

"What are you doing? I have a wedding tomorrow and I need to get some sleep."

"Oh, right, that's why I came here." He said, pointing at you. "What do you mean?”

Geta turned his head towards the door an yelled. “Come on in!”

A young man, who appeared to be a slave, entered the room and approached you, his movements slightly hesitant.

You looked at Geta in shock. "What is he doing here?"

But you were not alone, Decima and the other girl were also quite surprised.

“There won't be time before the wedding.” He said arrogantly.

“What are you talking about?”

“Undress.” Geta ordered him.

“What! No, don't!” You shouted at the slave. He grabbed the end of his tunic, unsure of what to do.

"I'm doing you a favour. Do you really want to ruin everything on your wedding night?"

"A favour?" Is that what you consider to be a favour?” You spoke a little louder than you intended to.

However, Geta didn't seem to care. "I'm not suggesting you sleep with him, but it might be helpful to study the man's body, especially the important parts." He pointed to the young man's pelvis.

You jumped up from the bed, feeling embarrassed, your cheeks burning.

"Thanks, but I don't think that's necessary."

Geta sat up in bed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Are you sure? Look at you, your cheeks are all red. You'll certainly faint when you see the General Acacius naked."

His loud, ringing laugh was the final straw that broke your patience.

"I'm not a virgin!" you exclaimed.

Everyone in the room looked at you in surprise. You felt extremely embarrassed. You turned your back towards them, feeling ashamed to look at their faces.

Geta clapped his hands. "Well, well, well, my sister is not so innocent after all." He approached you. ”Caracalla will be disappointed though. He was thinking of giving you to the Temple of Vesta to become a virgin priestess." He laughed.

You turned towards him. “What?"

"To piss off the General, that's for sure. Anyway, you're not a virgin, so it's not an issue.”

"I don't think that's funny at all,” you said angrily.

"It seems there's more between you and the General than I thought.” Suddenly his face was serious. “Since you trusted him enough to dare to give yourself to him before marriage.”

You averted your gaze from him, not because you felt guilty, but because you didn't want to discuss such intimate matter with him.

He really didn't like your serious face, especially when you looked away from him. He leaned towards you with a playful smile. "But if you'd like to observe anyway, I mean, before the wedding, my body is in great shape. Not as muscular as his, but still."

'Can you please leave my room?' You pointed at the door.

'I understand your pre-wedding nerves and I forgive you, otherwise you can’t treat me like this,' he said smugly.

“You started it," you murmured.

He seemed relieved. “Have a good night, sister," he giggled, and walked out of the room, his slave following behind him.

Once they were gone, you threw yourself on your bed and sighed deeply. “I hate him.”

Decima and the slave girl were giggling.

Decima sat on the bed next to you. “I was thinking of talking to you about the wedding night, but I don't think I need to. I mean, since you're not,” she said, her voice trembling. She must be remembering painful memories from that house.

“Decima, I'm so sorry,” you voice cracked.

“No, you don't have to feel sorry for me, please. But can you tell me exactly how far you and the General have gone?" She gave you a suggestive look.

“Well, it happened once, you know.” Your cheeks were starting to flush again.

“So you're still inexperienced, my lady.”

The slave girl opened her eyes wide as you both turned your heads towards her. “I apologise, I was out of line, my lady.”

“How do you mean?”

“She's right,” Decima said. “There is so much for you to learn.”

So it turns out they were right – everything had happened so quickly that night. And you still dreaded the wedding night like a virgin. The last time you remember, he was stopping himself from going any further and was really patient and gentle with you. But you were still feeling like a virgin, not physically for sure, yet emotionally, novice to all the pleasures that the male and female body can experience. Thinking all of these, a new concern arose inside you, the inability to satisfy your husband's expectations as his wife. Like that's all you need, really.

For the rest of your last night in the palace, you were relaxing in the marble tub, breathing in the steamy air mixed with the floral aroma, while Decima's gentle fingers rub your legs. After a few embarrassing conversations, you savoured your last night as unmarried woman, since, from tomorrow you will be a married one.

As the memories of your time with Marcus came to mind, you wondered when you first fell in love with him. When did it happen? Was it when you first saw him and felt a peculiar attraction? Or was it the first time he touched you? Each time he was kind to you? Perhaps it was when he smiled warmly at you? Or the first time he kissed you? You smiled to yourself. It seemed a little silly to choose between your beautiful memories as if you were entering them in a competition.

You were certain from the first moment you saw Marcus, you loved him. And it grew more and more every day. You suddenly realised how much you had missed him. The last time you saw him, he was talking to Geta and Caracalla about marriage as if it were a strategic issue, and you just watched them. You hadn't even had a chance to talk properly or touch him.

Once you had finished your bath, you lay down on your bed. Your eyes lingering on your veil, which lay over the armchair next to the small table. As the sweet breeze from the window caressed your hair, you closed your eyes and dreamed of tomorrow.

—-

Wedding day…

In the early hours of the morning, the streets of Rome were filled with a festive atmosphere. A group of people gathered around the Palatine Hill for the wedding of General Acacius and Princess Aurelia, eager to witness the momentous occasion. They patiently awaited the arrival of the carriage carrying the General to the wedding venue, hoping to catch a glimpse of him or the imperial family.

You opened your eyes slowly and became aware of a number of voices. The first thing you heard was a sound that could be described as shouting. This was followed by a hum, which seemed to be the sound of a crowd, the swallows flying past the window, and then a knock on the door. As you gradually sat up in bed and yawned, Decima entered the room, accompanied by three slave girls carrying your wedding dress.

“What's all that noise?” you asked Decima as you got out of bed. “Emperor Geta and Caracalla have had an argument I guess.” The slave girls put your dress on the bed.

You looked at her, surprised. “What's the argument about?”

“I'm not sure, but it's nothing to do with you or the wedding. Don't worry.”

“Then you must know why.” You said, eyeing the other girls, noticed that Geta's slave wasn't with them.

“I wasn't going to tell you not to worry about it on your wedding day, but I think Emperor Caracalla took an interest in Emperor Geta's favorite slave and it didn't go down well, so there was tension.” She was helping you undress.

“Is that why she didn't come with you?”

“Would you like me to ask her to come over?” she asked as she helped you into your long white silk tunic.

“No, I don't need to, but I hope she's all right.”

Decima rolled her eyes. “Perhaps you should stop worrying about someone else. Today is an important day for you.” She smiled softly. "You're the bride, remember?"

You giggled and nodded. She was right, but you couldn't help thinking that something might happen to the slave girl because of those two.

With the assistance of the slave girls, you were nearing the end of your dressing process when Geta arrived a short while later.

He clapped his hands. “Sister, you look gorgeous.” Then he crossed his arms and inhaled deeply. “General Acacius. That lucky bast-.”

“Brother." You silenced him and frowned.

He pursed his lips, suppressing his laughter.

“Why didn't your slave girl come to help me?”

“Because she was busy dressing me,” he pointed to the white toga with gold embroidery he was wearing.

She arrived at the door a moment later, holding your floral wedding crown.

“Look, here she is. Come, girl quick!” Geta beckoned her over. “General is about to arrive and it's time to put the veil on.”

“Your highness, first we must put on the belt,” said the slave girl.

Two of the other girls placed a thin belt around your waist, where the Heracles knot would be tied, and tied it one time. Geta's slave was combing your hair at the same while pinning a few to the sides with hairpins.

“Tie plenty of knots.” Geta grinned.

You rolled your eyes. “Don't be childish.”

“Your Majesty, if the groom can't untie the knot-“

“I know, it's bad luck,” he grinned again. He was giggling like a child as he tied a few knots in the belt around your waist.

“That's enough!” You pushed his hand away.

“Looks like the Glorious General Acacius will be trying to undo the knots until morning.” His laughter echoed around the room, and everyone could hardly keep themselves from laughing. You were almost one of them, biting your lip hard not to.

Before long, you heard footsteps and one of the slaves came into the room, out of breath. “Your Majesty, my lady, General Acacius’ carriage has arrived.”

You felt a sudden rush of butterflies in your stomach when you heard his name.

“Time for the veil,” Geta ordered the slaves. They draped the long saffron-coloured veil over your head. Decima wrapped the end of the long veil around your arm to keep it from getting tangled around your feet. You grabbed the part hanging from your arm with your hand. The yellowish colour of the veil made it a little difficult for you to see clearly. It was like looking at the sun at sunset, with everything bathed in a yellow glow. You bowed your head a little as Geta's assistant placed the flower crown on your head.

“Wonderful!” Geta smiled and held out his arm to you. “Shall we?” You took a last glance at your room, hesitating for a moment before taking his arm. Decima looked a little sad, so you gestured for her to embrace you, the veil preventing you from moving freely. She came and hugged you, and you felt a little uneasy about leaving her there.

“You know, it's not too late. If you're unsure about... I’ll tell him.”

You gave Geta an aggressive look, despite the veil, you were sure he saw it.

Then you took his arm in a hurry. “We can go now.”

“Impatient, sister?”

You rolled your eyes and felt your long eyelashes brush against the fabric of the veil.

“After all, you’re old. Around twenty-six? I think you're fortunate to have found someone to marry.” He smirked.

"Ha-ha. How funny.”

As you left your chambers, you heard the murmurs of guests coming from the main courtyard. You walked out with short, confident steps. As you descended the stairs, you saw Caracalla standing there. Geta turned his head away from him. Were they sulking at each other?

Caracalla eyed you up and down. “I liked the tempting idea of keeping the General waiting, but the guests will gossip about us,” he chastised you with a laugh. When he held out his arm to you, you looked at him in surprise. “How dare you keep my arm waiting?”

Geta could joke, but Caracalla could do more than that. He could joke and at the same time manage to chastise and sarcasm. You took his arm, despite your initial hesitation. As you walked between the two of them, you looked at their faces out of the corner of your eye. It was a strange but nice feeling.

Soon you found yourself in the main courtyard where you were greeted with applause. It seemed that the guests recognized you from a distance thanks to your yellowish veil. Your eyes searched the crowd for Marcus and were momentarily distracted by the flowers hanging from the upper balcony. But you continued your search with determination.

“Where is mother?” Geta asked.

“I sent her away,” Caracalla snapped.

Geta looked at him angrily. “Are you mad?”

“Stay out of my business.”

“Stop it,” you hissed. “Don't ruin my wedding.”

Geta leaned towards him, whispering behind your back. “This isn't over, brother.”

Whatever had happened between them and wherever Julia had gone, you really didn't care right now. You were too focused on Marcus, who was waiting for you at the altar. He looked magnificent in his white toga virilis, (special toga worn by the groom). Your consciousness was clouded by the exhilaration you felt, and the voices of Geta and Caracalla sounded like grunts to you.

The only thing you really saw was Marcus' face, it filled your vision, for a moment you could think of nothing else. His eyes were a buttery, burning dark brown color, his stunning face was almost severe with the depth of his emotions.  And then, when he meets your gaze, a breathtaking smile appears on his handsome face.

You felt like you might have fallen from the exhilaration and excitement if it hadn't been for your half-brothers holding your arms. Fortunately, the seemingly endless march was over and there you were, right next to Marcus, your General.

Flamen Dialis (the high priest of Jupiter) began his speech to preside over the wedding.

“My emperors, and honored guests, welcome to the wedding of General Marcus Justus Acacius and our Princess Septimia Aurelia Marciana.”

With soft applause from the guests, the slaves brought in a lamb adorned with flowers, its bleating echoing throughout the courtyard.

"Great Juno, Goddess of marriage and fertility, accept this gift of life from the great house of Emperor Publius Septimius Geta and Emperor Lucius Septimius Bassianus Caracalla.”

You chose not to look as the lamb was sacrificed, glad that the veil blocked your view. With a gesture from the high priest, Marcus held out his hand and asked Geta and Caracalla the usual question.

“My Emperors, do you promise to give me this woman, your sister, to be my wife?”

Geta and Caracalla glanced at each other, and then back at Marcus.

“I promise.”

“Promise.”

They vowed.

You didn't realize you were crying until your tears soaked the fabric of your veil. You blinked, trying to see Marcus' face more clearly. Geta and Caracalla placed your thin hand in Marcus' large, warm palm. As soon as you touched his skin, that familiar feeling blessed you. He stroked all your fingers with his thumb, as if to calm you. The High Priest seemed satisfied and turned to Marcus. "General Marcus Acacius, she is yours.” He announced.

Geta and Caracalla took a few steps back, you took a few steps towards Marcus. He gently lifted the veil from your face and placed it over your head. You smiled with joy as you could see his gorgeous face more clearly. It seemed unbelievable, but this amazing man was now yours and you were his. Marcus took your hand gently and placed the golden wedding band on your fourth finger. You playfully caressed the ring -with the symbol of clasped hands on it- with your pinky finger. Here's one more thing to get used to.

“Seal it with a kiss.” The high priest gave consent.

Marcus gently grasped your shoulders, bent his head towards you and kissed you tenderly, adoringly. In that moment, you forgot everything else: the time, the place, the guests, and the reason you were there. All you remembered was that he loved you, that he wanted you, and that you were his.

“Let's witness the contract!” The high priest raised his arms and the guests applauded.

Marcus and you both broke the kiss with great effort, you even heard someone clearing their throat. You were almost sure it was Geta. Marcus pulled himself back to look at you, seemed amused, a smirk appeared on his face. There were giggles and murmurs coming from the audience, but you refused to look away from his face to see them.

—-

The sweet evening breeze wafted gently around the Domus Severiana, carrying with it the sounds of a small crowd enjoying a wedding banquet under the soft lights. Marcus was conversing with Octavius in the vicinity of the fountain, while you were sitting in the fancy seat that had been reserved for you and Marcus, next to the imperial seats of Geta and Caracalla. Your half-brothers barely spoke to each other during the banquet, their mother Julia was nowhere to be seen, but nobody seemed to care. Macrinus, however, was looking at you out of the corner of his eye when he was talking to Geta. When he finished talking to him, he came over and smiled at you.

"My lady, I would like to congratulate you."

"Thank you, sir."

"I wish you and General Acacius every happiness."

You looked away. "I see Sir Gaius was not able to attend."

A thoughtful expression crossed Macrinus' face as he realized the implication in your voice.

"He asked me to convey his sincerest congratulations to you.”

"I'm not sure, I don't think he's sincere.”

"I beg your pardon, my lady?" He leaned a little closer

"I wonder if you were aware of his plans?" You shook the glass in your hand, your eyes fixated on the movement of the wine in it.

Macrinus cast a quick glance at his fellow emperors and leaned towards you.

“Can you please explain how you mean?”

“He told me a little about the plan for the throne, almost in a threatening tone,” you replied. Then you looked at him in the eye. ‘You didn't know?’

Marcus saw you two looking at each other with serious faces, so he frowned and ended his conversation with Octavius. Macrinus' face was hard to read. Whatever he was feeling, he was hiding it well. You were determined to solve him though.

"Whatever Sir Gaius has said, my lady, I can have no such thoughts,  I am at the service of your brothers, and of you too, surely.”

“There is no need for that, Sir Macrinus.” You were startled by Marcus's harsh voice. He stepped between the two of you, protectively, right in front of you, his shadow falling across your face.

“As her husband, I am the one who must look after my wife, Lady Aurelia, and I am grateful for your services thus far.” Marcus spoke with a tone that brooked no argument.

Macrinus smiled. “Of course, General Acacius, congratulations again, now, if you excuse me.” He turned and strode to the other side of the hall.

When Marcus turned back to you, he looked concerned. He sat down beside you and leaned in. “Did he say something to bother you?”

You shook your head. “No, he just congratulated me.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow.

“It's nothing to worry about, really,” you smiled at him.

He put his arm around you, "We'll talk about this later." His free hand went straight for the food on the table. “Did you eat enough?” He stuffed a grape into your mouth. “You'll need your strength for tonight.”

You almost choked on the grape as he smiled crookedly.

Geta's loud laughter startled you. When you looked at him, his favourite slave was feeding him some food too. Caracalla was also very busy romantically with his own slave. When you turned to Marcus, he was staring at you under his eyebrows. There was desire in those brown eyes that melted like butter and made your throat go dry.

Then Marcus's face turned serious as their laughter continued. He turned his head and looked at your emperor half-brothers. “I think that's enough of the banquet.” He looked back at you with a soft expression this time. “Is my beautiful bride ready to go to her husband's house?” He gripped your hand tightly.

'Husband' word made you giggle. “I am very ready, General.”

He smiled and kissed the top of your hand then stood up, pulling you with him.

“It seems our happy couple have decided to take their leave,” Geta noticed you two.

“With your permission, your highness,” Marcus nodded.

The slow music picked up to match the pace of the ceremony, which marked the bride's departure to her new home. In keeping with tradition, Marcus grabbed you by the legs, threw you over his shoulder, and ran across the courtyard towards the gate, carrying you outside. The guests watched this cheerful moment with laughter and applause.

While Marcus was carrying you over his shoulder, you tried to look around, but all you could see was your veil sweeping the floor. As he stepped out of the main gate, you were met with a surprise: applause and the sound of your own name being called. Marcus set you down. The crowd chanted both your names. They threw you rose petals, and you smiled and greeted them. The guests inside, Geta and Caracalla, had followed you, also greeted them. One of the slaves handed Geta a bowl full of red rose petals, which he proceeded to shower over your head. His earlier mood had been far more cheerful, but now he was serious. It was as if he was sad, but it was hard to be sure. Caracalla folded his arms, not bothering to touch the rose petals. You were taken off guard when Geta suddenly hugged you. You felt Marcus tense next to you. Geta looked at Marcus with an air of command. “Take good care of my sister, Acacius. Or there will be consequences.”

It was common knowledge that he was an emperor who liked to issue threats and give orders, and Marcus was aware of this, but no one was used to seeing him do it to protect someone else. It was clear that there had always been tension between them, but there was something different in the way they looked at each other, something you could hardly make sense of.

Marcus grabbed your hand and looked at Geta with a sharp gaze. “Lady Aurelia is now my wife and under my care, she will be well looked after, you can be sure of that, your highness.”

Geta pursed his lips as if thinking about something. “Well then, you can go,’ he said then, pointing to the carriage.

“Be gentle with her, won't you?” Caracalla laughed hard.

Of course, shameless jokes were part of the tradition and your brothers were the experts at it.

Geta smirked. “Good luck,” he said, gesturing with his hands to his own waist, alluding to the belt around yours.

You rolled your eyes at him and got into the carriage with Marcus's help. He lifted your veil as you got in and helped you to sit down. He called over Octavius and had a quick word with him. You were curious about what they were talking about, but you couldn't hear it clearly over the music and the crowd. When Octavius left, he came into the carriage and sat down beside you. He ordered the coachman to get the horses moving.

As the carriage moved, he held your hand and placed it in his. He traced the outline of the ring on your finger with his thumb. Then he lifted your hand and kissed each finger. You heard another carriage moving just behind yours. You turned your head and lifted the curtain with your free hand to look out.

“Another carriage?”

“I believe it's an imperial dowry,” he said sarcastically.

You looked at him, confused.

“Your brothers are sending you lots of clothes and jewellery,” he explained.

“Must be Geta.” You thought so.

“They have no boundaries when it comes to spending coins.”

You chose to remain silent because he was right.

“Still,” he grasped your chin gently and turned your face towards him. “My beautiful wife deserves it all.”

Before you could react, he kissed you passionately. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you felt his impatience. You inhaled his masculine scent and felt a moistness between your legs. Gods, why does this road never seem to end? You thought.

—-

Villa…

By the time the two carriages drew close to the General's villa, the sun had finished its work for the day and was beginning to set. As he left, the sky darkened, and the moon rose soon after. The moon was bright and illuminated the night, almost as bright as the sun, especially tonight.

When the carriage finally arrived, Marcus stepped down and offered you his hand. You took his hand with a smile, but you had forgotten the veil you had wrapped around your arm and you stumbled on the steps. Marcus wrapped his arms around you and put you down effortlessly. Like you were a little girl.

Octavius had already got out of the other carriage and came over to greet you. You turned your head to look at the other carriage. You were astounded to see Decima standing there, smiling.

“But how?” You looked at her in surprise.

"Your wedding present, part of your dowry." Marcus explained. “I asked Emperor Geta to give her to your service, and he agreed.”

“Marcus, I don't know what to say. I'm so grateful.”

He smiled in response, then took your hand and led you to the courtyard entrance of the villa. “Now we have to complete the ceremony. Are you ready?”

The ritual of entering your new home was a Roman custom that was not very common in Egypt. As a result, you were not familiar with this part of the ceremony, yet Geta's slave had informed you of a few details.

“Please guide me.”

He gave a nod. When you got to the door, all the General's slaves were waiting for you there. Two slaves were holding torches at the front. As you passed through, you noticed Norell and Tullia and wanted to give them a hug, but they were looking at you a little solemnly. Right, the ritual wasn't over yet. They both lifted you up and carried you over the threshold. You walked to the centre of the courtyard and realised how much you missed this place. It looked a little different than usual with the lighting and decorations, but you were home.

Marcus stood right in front of you. Norell handed him lucerna (an oil lamp), Tullia a jug with water in it, the symbol of life.  You took them from his hands carefully and, with his gesture, you raised them up for all to see. The slaves applauded softly, and you smiled. Then Norell and Tullia took them back from you. Marcus approached you and whispered, 'You know what to say here, don't you?’

You gave a little nod. It was a sentence you'd run through in your mind a few times already.

“Ubi tu Marcus ego Marca, where you are Marcus, I am Marca.”

He responded “Ubi tu Marca, ego Marcus, where you are Marca, I am Marcus.”

And the contract was fully signed, you were officially his wife.

“Welcome home, my wife Aurelia,” he said with a warm smile.

It was like music to your ears to hear your own name come out of his mouth with the word ‘wife’.

"Welcome, Domina,” the slaves greeted you.

You smiled at them, and as Norell smiled back at you, you wanted to go over to talk to her, but Marcus' expression almost changed with the emotions he was feeling. He grabbed your hand and pulled you to the stairs leading to his room, or rather your room now. You could feel his impatience in the way he touched you. Your heart thudded audibly against your ribs, and your breath seemed to get stuck in your throat.

He closed the door firmly behind you two. You could feel his eyes on you, but you refused to look at him. What was this sudden nervousness all about? You looked at his bed and saw the rose petals that had been sprinkled on it. Then, he rushed forward to snatch you into his arms, taking your breath away. You giggled, “Did you miss me?”

What a silly question, Marcus thought.

"Yes," he growled, and pulled you hard against him. "I can't think of nothing but you. Dreaming this moment was the only thing that kept me patient." Marcus's strong arms were wrapped around your waist, pressing himself against you. When he felt you tense under your dress, he reacted with a slight frown.

“Why are you so tense? You made it through the first time well.” He brushed his lips against yours. “If I remember correctly, you liked my kiss?” His kiss was forceful, deep, overwhelming. He had got that wrong, he realized dazedly. He was the one who liked your kiss.  More than liked.  He loved it. He was radiating a strange intensity today. You could feel it under his lips; he was screaming his longing to you through them.

He slid his hand to your thigh. “I remember you liked my touch too,” now he was touching you where you wanted him most. You bit your lip. He grinned as he felt the moisture forming beneath the fabric. “I see you want me, but I want to know what makes you nervous.”

You swallowed hard, unsure of how to tell him how you felt.

“Are you afraid of me?” His voice was so soft.

You met his eyes. “No Marcus, I'm - I'm afraid what if I cannot satisfy you or please you as your wife.”

Marcus's smile was broad, cheerful. You blinked your eyes as you looked at him in confusion

“You will learn, my love.”

He ran his fingers up your arms, caressing your shoulders, your collarbone, your chin, “We’ll both be learning each other’s likes,” then took your face in his hands, "Each time,” he smirked, his gaze dropping to your lips. He kissed your lips softly. His mouth was hot and sweet on your own.

Marcus broke the kiss to remove the veil from your head. It was getting in the way of his arms around you and feeling your skin. He placed it on the edge of the bed, a little hastily. When he came back, he took your hands and put them on his shoulders, just above the shawl on his white toga.“Will you do as my wife?”

“Sure.” You took hold of Marcus's plain white shawl and slowly removed it from his shoulder, then waist. He now wears only his plain white tunic. You placed it on the bed neatly. You gasped as his hands wrapped around you from behind. He kissed the nape of your neck gently but needily.

“Turn around to look at me.”

You did as he said. His hands went to your belt, his smile fading as he realised the knots. It was exactly the reaction you thought he'd have.

“Why did you tie so many knots?”

“Apologies.” You bit your lower lip.

"He did this, didn't he?" He narrowed his eyes. He grunted when he saw the answer in your expression. "He always manages to annoy me.”

Marcus untied one of the knots patiently, but there seemed to be more. While he was untying it, your eyes drifted across the room to Marcus' leather armour. Next to it was his sword and then you noticed the item that you thought might be useful. Marcus' pugio (a dagger used by Roman soldiers as a sidearm).

“This belt represents virginity, right?”

Marcus answered without looking at you, determined to untie the knots. “Yes?” Suddenly, he stopped and looked up. He met your gaze, following the path of your eyes. He turned his head in that direction.

“So I'm not a virgin after all. I mean…"

He laughed when he realised the implication in your voice. “I'm all ears.”

“Can't you just cut it off?”

“Gods must have blessed me with an intelligent wife.”

He took his pugio, unsheathed it and came over to you. “Stay still.”

You nodded and swallowed, wondering why this turned you on so much. Marcus grabbed your endlessly knotted belt with one hand and pulled, almost staggering you. With the other hand, holding his pugio, he cut your belt in one swift motion. You were startled when you felt the sharp surface of the dagger just slightly under the fabric. But it was over in a flash.

Marcus threw the belt on the floor. "There's nothing holding us back now.” He hurriedly put the pugio back in its sheath. And in the blink of an eye, you were in his arms again. You trembled with ecstasy in the dress which freed from the tightness provided by the belt. Marcus's impatient hands grasped the fabric of the dress at your shoulders, perhaps a little roughly, and skilfully undressed you. The dress fell to the floor, pooling around your feet.

“Undress me,” he demanded. Unlike his impatient hands, yours were slow, yet eager. You grasped the hem of Marcus' tunic in your clumsy hands, lifted it up and pulled it over his head, allowing it to fall to the floor.

As you looked at his bare chest, your eyes drifted to where he was last injured, and you looked at him as you stroked it with your hand. "It's not healed yet. I'll have to make some ointment.”

He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you hard against him.

“Do that later, now focus on the other thing I need you to heal.”

You looked away, and before you could turn your chin, he grabbed it in his hand.

“Wrap your arms around me,” he commanded.

You obey, feeling him between your thighs, growing, making you swallow loudly.

“Run your fingers through my hair,” he said, looking into your eyes. You already liked touching his hair so much, was he reading your mind? Marcus's breathing grew heavier as you ran your fingers through his curly, dark, partly gray hair. He grabbed your hips, lifting you slightly onto his lap. His strength was a huge turn on for you, feeling the way he was easily able to pick you up. Walking with your legs wrapped around his waist he carries you there and lifting you off of him. He laid you down on the bed carefully and then watched you. You felt the soft touch of rose petals against your skin yet didn’t care. You literally felt his eyes roaming over, from you hips up to your waist up to your breasts, and your cheeks surely turned red than they already were. But you didn't feel exposed. In a way it felt liberating to let him see you because you didn't have the urge to hide yourself from him anymore. The eager expression on his face made you feel beautiful and wanted. And then he kissed your neck, which felt even better, and you turned your head to the side to offer him more skin to kiss. He swirled his tongue on the skin behind your ear, causing you to moan. He continued working across your neck with his tongue, then pecked your earlobe and then moved to your mouth. He crushed his lips to yours. He felt your hands as you press against his back, clasping him to yourself. You ran your hands over his broad shoulders as he kissing you with unbridled passion, his lips moving over yours with a hunger you had never experienced before. Marcus was already healed when he felt your fingers caressing his wounds. The feel of your bare skin against his is beyond compare. It is absolutely glorious.

The moment he forcefully parts both of your legs with his knee, you look up at him wide-eyed. His face is intense, and you know soon he’ll take you. You don’t want him to stop, but can’t help to tense. You fight against his hold but it is as though you're fighting a marble statue.

Marcus looks down at you sternly. His voice becomes commanding.

“Aurelia, if you could just relax, we've done it before, this time it won't hurt,” He whispers into your ear. You did what he said and let him take you. Your immobile under his control, extremely turned on.

“I wish to please you,” he says, his hot breath caresses you belly. He slowly runs his hand downwards, reaching that intimate, soaked place between your legs that he has touched before. A satisfied groan builds in his throat. “Hmm. So responsive.”

A deft finger circles a sensitive spot gently and you bit your lip hard, feels good. You feel the need to writhe in response, but his weight is holding you down, unyielding.

He enters you with two fingers and his hand is so big that each time his finger is in, his palm presses your most sensitive spot. He curls his finger, massaging another extremely sensitive spot inside you. And finally, he puts his mouth close to that area and touches it with his tongue, while he caresses your breasts with both hands then pushing his tongue back in against your clit, then sucks, consuming you, relentlessly. You can’t suppress your whimper. And groaning loudly. He looks up at you. He was determined to watch you come and the closer you got to climax the heavier your breathing became.

"Marcus," you moaned again. “P-please.”

He smirked watched your face contort and kept at it, licking and sucking, devouring you while your legs started to shake beneath you. Soon you reached the climax and felt as if you had ascended to the sky. Marcus kissed you repeatedly around your belly, proud of the feeling he had caused. He had a smile of triumph on his face, but now his body had become more impatient.

“Now wrap your legs around me,” he was stroking your legs. You did as he said, already craving him more than you ever wanted him, your body squirming to be his. In a swift movement he grabs your hips and pulls you down and his full length is inside you. You moan and your breath hits against his chest. Your nails dig into the back of his neck, breathing harshly. You didn't expect it to happen so quickly, but this time it didn't hurt at all, maybe because it was too wet, dripping wet.

You weren’t with him for this part, but he was acutely aware of you every shaky breath. Somehow, despite his pleasure, he found himself moderating his thrusts without too much effort. True, he had to squeeze his eyes shut to concentrate.  The feel of you around him was like nothing else.  It was strange how aware he felt of the clench of your fingers at his back as he luxuriated in the tight, silky clasp of you. How often he felt compelled to press his lips to yours.

When he felt his brow begin to bead with sweat, he groaned and told himself his exertions had gone on long enough. He needed to withdraw.  You don’t need to, a voice whispered in his head that sounded very like his own. She’s your wife, yours. He looked at your face to confirm, determined not to lose his self-control and cause you pain. Fortunately, he saw that you were far from suffering. He smiled confidently, thinking how beautiful you looked right now. He could see it in your face, so when he hardened his movements a little, he realized that you were moaning with pleasure. A smile of triumph spread across Marcus' face as you screamed his name over and over. His thrusts are becoming quicker now, but still not too quickly, and you know you will climax simultaneously. 

You close your eyes and moan as you feel yourself begin the ascent to your orgasm. He is moaning as well, then he pushes himself as deeply into you as he can, triggering his climax. As you feel him throb inside you, filling you completely with his seed, you come hard, your moan becomes a howl, and Marcus presses his mouth to yours, causing your body to twist into lovely shivers.

He slides his tongue into your mouth and strokes yours with his, extending both your climaxes. Moaning into each other's mouths, you don't want this feeling to end, and you're certain he feels the same. As you ease down from your respective highs, Marcus breaks your kiss and looks admiringly into your half-closed eyes and smiles through heavy breathing.

"I can't believe how stunning, amazing you are," he whispered, running his fingers through your hair. “I love you Aurelia, my beautiful wife.”

You smiled at his kind words.

“I love you too, Marcus.”

Both of you naked in our post-coital bliss, a military man buried inside you, the General, now your husband. You think it was the most romantic wedding night you could imagine. Not because he's so handsome and charming despite his age. But because he's your Marcus, he's perfect.

When he finally pulls out, it hurts, but only emotionally. You already miss the fiery connection between your bodies. He kisses you again and pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arm around you, as if he's trying to stop you from running away. You smile, he must have remembered what you did last time. He places his chin on the top of your head, your nose close enough to touch his neck, your nose caressing his jugular vein.

The warm breeze whispers through the window, blowing out the oil lamp and allowing the bright moonlight to bathe your naked bodies in its glow. Once the sounds of love have ceased, you find yourself surrounded by the gentle chirping of crickets, the soft howl of an owl, and the calming rhythm of Marcus' breathing. After a while, your eyelids gently close, and you drift off to sleep, caged and imprisoned by his arms.

—-

Dream.

The moonlight was all you could see, blocking out everything else. The soft wind caresses your skin, causing you to shiver, but you are not cold. You ask yourself why you are shivering. Your feet, your hands – where were they? Everything was blurred. You opened and closed your eyes, your heart racing in your chest. But why? You open and close your eyes once more. Your hands are there, but your feet are off the ground.  You open and close your eyes once more. This time, the light dims, and you can see around you. You are relieved. You thought you were blind a moment ago.

But the relief doesn't last long because you remember where you are. You were here before. This meadow, this wind, this sky. "Save him." And that chilling whisper. You flinch and gasp as the owner of the voice suddenly appears. The goddess appears in front of you, her white skin glimmering like diamonds. This time, she doesn't resemble you. She draws closer, and when you recognize her face, you fall to your knees. This time, she allows you to feel the grass and flowers. Is it because she pity you?

'Mother?' your voice trembles. You've never seen her before, except her statue in the tomb in the Domus Severiana. She is beautiful, in a way that is difficult to describe.

'Save him,' the same tone, with a hint of urgency and a touch of pleading.

You get up on your knees and look at her, ‘I did it, Mother, I saved him.’

Unsatisfied with your answer, she turns away, strolling in a circle among the grass. You're certain she'll pick another herb to give to you like she did last time. But no, she grabbed something from the grass, and when she lifted it up you jumped backwards for your dear life.

‘Don't be afraid, child,’ she whispered.

The viper she held in her hand was torn into many pieces and spread out through the grass, then into the soil. What? Why? How? You felt like you were losing your mind. 'He will need you, Rome will need you,’ she whispered again, ringing, echoing in your ears. Rome? Him? This overwhelming, all-consuming dream didn't allow you to speak or think clearly. He was your sole focus, and you made the conscious decision to ask questions for him, even if it meant losing your mind.

'Save him from what, mother? Please…” your voice cracked, you were panting, heavily breathing.

Without batting an eyelash, she grabbed your hands and lifted you up on your feet. Her eyes were fixed on yours, as if she could read your mind.

"You already know.” Her voice sharp.

This time, she turned around, and her hair danced in the warm wind. You shook your head in defiance, demanding to know more. She reads your mind again. "Think, Aurelia."

In a gust of wind, the grass and flowers on the ground were uprooted, plucked, and gathered around your mother's silhouette. It was incredible, overwhelming, and it consumed all of your senses. You rushed towards her, but she had already disappeared among them as if caught in a whirlwind. Your feet were no longer on the meadow with green grass and flowers. Instead, you were on a dirt field, and you felt abandoned. No more moonlight, no more wind, only dirt ground. No more her. With her voice echoing in your ears for the last time, crushing your soul, blowing your mind last time, your dream was about to end.

'Think.'

Chapter 8: Lust, Threat, Tension

De omnibus dubitandum.

Everything must be doubted…

C.S.

 

The warmth of the morning sun hits your skin and wakes you up, freeing you from the torturing effects of the strange dream and bringing you back to reality. You hadn't opened your eyes yet, trying to start the new day happily by reliving last night's memories. You heard the first chirping of birds, then a cheerful rooster, then the murmur that you thought came from the small courtyard. Then you felt a gentle but insistent pressure between your eyebrows so you decided to open your eyes.

You were surprised to notice that Marcus had his index finger just above your face. Your head was resting on his arm so you lifted your head to look at his face, he was smiling.

"What were you dreaming about?" You felt his fingers tracing the contours of your spine.

"How did you know I was dreaming?"

"I was watching you sleep and your peaceful face suddenly changed. Was it a bad dream?”

It was not the kind of dream you'd want to talk about, especially on such a romantic morning. Despite all the unpleasant feelings, you smiled at him. "No, it was just a silly dream, I don't even remember it," you lied. 

“Hmm,” He seemed convinced. “How do you feel?”

You made yourself put the dream completely out of your mind to answer sincerely. "Reborn and grateful,” your cheeks burned as you remembered every single moment about last night.

“Reborn?”

“As if my life has just started now,” you explained." It may sound silly, but it feels like everything is better and new. The sky seems brighter, and the sun's light seems to give off a different glow. It's like my life has meaning now.”

A boyish grin appeared on his face. Every time he smiles like that, it blows your mind as if he wasn't the same man who days ago fought fearlessly in the arena, slaughtering gladiators. “Then I must be silly too, because I feel just like you.”

He leaned over and kissed you gently. Your hand went to his hair as you enjoyed this moment, running your fingers through it. You felt that the effect of your dream was completely gone now, Marcus' presence was like an invisible shield, keeping your worries and fears away.

Then, he began to kiss you more passionately, his mouth greedy and hungry for more. His hands move to grab you behind the waist and pull you closer to him. Your heart raced as you realised what he was doing. He pinned you to the bed with his muscular body, leaving no gap. His hands roamed from your hips to your legs, not hurried but eager. This time you opened your legs instinctively, without any concern but with a lot of desire. You could feel him smiling beneath your lips, his light breath through his nose caressing your cheek. You let out a moan of pleasure as he teased you with his touch, brushing against your walls. You clenched the sheets as Marcus' full length entered you roughly, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. He grasped your hand and guided it to his own neck, his eyes sparkling with desire. As his thrusts quickened, you instinctively found yourself digging your fingertips into the back of his neck and back, unable to resist the incredible sensation. Then, he swiftly changed positions, leaning against the head of the bed before pulling you in front of him, your breasts brushing his chest, and causing your back to turn towards the room so you were facing him. You gasped with delight at the sudden shift. He eagerly prodded himself at your entrance once again. This was completely new to you, and you opened your eyes in surprise and looked at him. He smiled mischievously.

"Each other's likes, remember?" he purred into your ear, his hot breath showering your cheeks.

His free hand moved to your hip, pushing you down as he led you on the awaiting shaft underneath.

"A new thing for you to learn, my love," he whispered again, his eyes alight with excitement.

You giggled naughtily. You wrapped your arms around his thick neck and gave yourself to him, feeling safe and excited. This time, it went smoothly. Your wet walls accommodated him with a slick sound while a deep groan was forced out from your lungs. Your back arched at the sight of his full length getting inside you once more, almost as if trying to ease the penetration. Exhaling pleasurably, he didn't waste time as he resumed moving, playing, licking, and sucking your breasts in the process. From this angle, he could push himself deeper with less effort, reaching your sweet spot with more precision and force. Your body bounced up and down at each thrust, eager for Marcus to have you even harder. But as this new position puts more pressure on your walls, on your sweet spot, you are overwhelmed by the sudden wave of pleasure and quickly reach your climax. As you moaned loudly, Marcus couldn't help but snicker and kiss you passionately. "So impatient?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you were pleasantly surprised that your body wanted more. You never thought you'd enjoy it so much that you'd want more every time. Was this lust? It was certainly amazing.

“Get ready for more, princess,” he cooed.

As if in approval, you felt your walls stretching with a pleasurable warmth. He gripped your hips tightly lifted and thrusted hard. He repeated, and then repeated again. He was almost at his limit, and he knew from experience it wouldn't have been long by now. But was determined to make you reach your climax once more. This time his strong fingers dug into your back down to your hips, his hot tongue running between your breasts as you took in short, sharp breaths, gasping when you felt his teeth on them. Soon he was combining his force with a faster pace. His loud moans became mixed with yours, like music in your ears.

A few more strong shoves, and he realized he couldn't hold back any longer, not matter how hard he tried. So he came hard with a wild groan which turns you on hard and thus brings you more pleasure. You threw your head back as he filled you with his warm liquid, sending you over the edge for the second time. As your breathing became regular, he kissed you again, this time adoringly. He broke the kiss, and pressed his forehead to yours, both of you still breathing heavily. "Now that you've completed your duty of pleasing your husband," his fingers slid down the curve of your spine, "Perhaps a hot bath would be a welcome treat, my lady?"

You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, General."

He kissed you one last time before getting out of bed.

——

Tullia and Norell had already prepared your bath, as it was the morning of the wedding night of their Dominus and Domina. The Balneum was filled with a warm, steamy atmosphere, gently blended with the subtle aromas of various flowers floating on the surface of the hot water in the tub. Marcus helped you in and then sat you on his lap. You were amused by the way he treated you as if you were going to run away at any moment. You wouldn't have changed the feeling of being in his arms for anything; it was so wonderful and simple, as easy and natural as breathing. It was as if your bodies had been created for each other by the God Prometheus.

The soft movements of yours caused the lavender flowers on the surface of the water to dance in unison. You picked one and placed it in your palm, leaning your head back against Marcus' chest and inhaling its refreshing and comforting scent. He gently lifted your hair and massaged oil into your neck with his strong fingers. As you relaxed in the tub, enjoying a blissful moment of tranquility, the only sound that could be heard was the soothing burbling of the hot water.

You suddenly felt you missed his voice and his face. It was a pretty unusual feeling, missing him even when you were with him. You turned towards him and offered to give him a massage, just as he had given you one. Your hands traveled over his broad shoulders, neck, and arms, stopping at the wound on his shoulder. It was not fully healed. You swallowed hard as you remembered how sharp the sword was that the gladiator was holding. He noticed your frown and smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist. "I've been hurt worse, so don't worry. Besides, you healed all my wounds completely last night and this morning.” He smirked.

His implication made your cheeks flush, and you smiled shyly. Marcus caressed your cheeks with his wet hand, which smelled like lavender. "You're so beautiful when you blush," he murmured.

You were sure your cheeks turned completely red when you felt him hard between your thighs, right under your hips.

He laughed. “I suppose that this is my way of blushing to you my lady.”

In one quick move, he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up, pulling closer, causing some of the water to flow out of the tube along with the lavenders, splashing the floor.

Marcus seemed to be quite passionate, having you there, in the water. He didn't seem to tire at all; he was still as thrilled as ever. As strong and determined as he was in battle, he was just the same when making love to you. You wondered if there was a limit to his lust and how much you could keep up with it. This unfamiliar physical pace was so beautiful that you never wanted it to end, no matter how exhausted you felt afterward.

—-

You didn't do anything different on the rest of your first day as newlyweds. Marcus had asked them to bring the food to the room, and you didn't really want to get out of bed with the sheets freshly changed. When he called you to the table for something to eat, you saw Mau at the entrance to the balcony. You realised how much you missed her and ran to take her in your arms. She was purring as she played with your damp hair with her paw.

“It seems like she's pleased to see you again,” Marcus said.

You turned towards him, curious to know what he thought about cats.

“You look like you've met Mau.”

“Mau?' Did you name it? You never cease to amaze me, my lady.” He laughed.

“I had a cat like her in Egypt, she reminds me of it,” you ran your fingers through her black fur.

“We became good friends in your absence,” he said, pouring wine into his glass.

You raised your eyebrows. “I didn't know you liked cats, General.”

Marcus took a sip of his wine. "It.. Mau, keeps our kitchen pantry rat-free. She's a hunter. I'm grateful to her."

You smiled at him, appreciating the softer side of him that he lets you see.

“Come now, sit, you need to eat some food.”

You nodded and put Mau down, she was meowing, she must have smelt the food on the tray. You took a piece of food from the tray, went to the balcony, and put it on the ground. She meowed impatiently and quickly ran towards the food and started eating.

“I'm getting jealous of her,” Marcus complained.

You let out a little giggle and moved towards him. Just as you were about to sit down in the chair opposite him, he stopped you with a flourish of his hand. “Here,” he said, opening his arms wide and pointing to himself.

As you stared at him with confusion, he reached out grabbed your wrist, and pulled you to him, and you found yourself sitting on his lap. You looked at him, batting your eyelashes. His dark brown eyes stared intently into yours, and you felt your heart flutter. “When you look at me like that with your long eyelashes, it feels like an arrow through my heart,” he said with his velvety tone. You blinked again, “Like Cupid's arrow?”

He laughed gleefully. “Like Cupid's arrow,” he repeated. He pressed his forehead to yours and kissed the tip of your nose. “Now, my lady, allow me to feed you.” He took a spoonful of food from the plate on the tray and fed it to you. As you swallowed, you realised how hungry you were. Meanwhile, he was watching you intently. Then you took a piece of bread and brought it closer to Marcus. “I should too, feed my husband, shouldn't I? Open up, General.”

He smiled and opened his mouth. You watched as he chewed, your eyes wandering over his mouth and lips. It was a delight to watch.

While you two were enjoying your romantic lentaculum (breakfast), you decided to ask him about something that had been on your mind for a while. “If I may ask you something?”

“Hmm?”

“When I first came here, I heard you'd been married and divorced before.”

Marcus slowed his mouth movements as he chewed his food and locked his eyes on the food on the tray. You regretted asking that question when the joy on his face gave way to seriousness. He nodded with a half smile. “That's correct. It was an arranged marriage. I was young and dumb.” There was disappointment and sadness in his voice.

“What happened?” you asked softly.

He swallowed slowly, then took a fig from the tray and split it in half. “My father didn't want me to join the army. He thought he could prevent it by marrying me off. He wanted me in the senate like him.” He peeled the fig and fed it to you.

“But you joined anyway?” You asked as you chewed the fig.

“I had to. It was the only way I could stay away from this villa.”

You looked at him with a hint of surprise in your eyes. Marcus responded to your expression with a smile, gently touching your cheek with his hand. “I never loved her. I tried so hard to, but it just wasn't meant to be. As it turned out, she was already in love with someone else.” He slid his hand into your hair, his fingers stroking it slowly from top to bottom as if combing it. “I tried to satisfy my unhappiness on the battlefield, and my physical needs as a man. You can imagine where.”

Your stomach hurt, but not because you swallowed your food without chewing. Suddenly you felt a wave of jealousy sweep through your body. As if the fact that he used to be married didn't torture you enough, now you were sure you will be tormented by the thought of him sleeping with who knows how many women in the whore house. Yes, you definitely regretted asking him that question.

“Did I upset you?” He put his hand on your knee and rubbed it softly.

You quickly recovered your expression, forcing a smile.

“No,” you shook your head. “Please continue, I wish to know everything about you.”

He narrowed his eyes and read your expression, then sighed and continued.

“Well, when I found out she was busy with her lover while I was on the battlefield.” His eyes darkened to black. “I killed him.” His voice was sharp, making you tense. However, you kept your expression still, locked in his eyes. “I divorced after my father died, and I had no one left in the villa. I was alone, a soldier widowed at a young age.” He forced a smile.

“It must be so hard for you. I'm so sorry.” Your voice cracked.

He placed his arm around you and kissed you on the shoulder. "There is no need for you to be sorry, my love. Everything is in the past now." He smiled gently as he stroked your upper arm. “I consider myself extremely fortunate that the gods brought me you. You have not only healed me physically but also emotionally.”

Your heart began to race with excitement as his lips traced a path over your shoulder once more. 'My beautiful Aurelia,' he whispered in your ear, his voice full of love and desire. You inhaled the delicious scent of lavender from his masculine skin, and you felt your eyes closing of their own accord. You felt his lips on yours, right where they belonged. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and you didn't care that the fork in your hand dropped to the floor as he kissed you passionately.  Marcus put one arm under your legs and took you in his arms. Without breaking the kiss, he stood up and rushed to the bed, your giggles echoing through the room.

—-

The soft glow of sunlight that filtered through the window gently roused you from your slumber. As you listened to the birds outside, you became aware that you had perhaps lost track of time. You hadn't left the room for a day except to take a bath. You were having some pretty intense, passionate moments, and you spent the rest of the time discovering your bodies and their needs. As you yawned, you realised you were still tired. All the sexual activity between you and Marcus had made you feel more tired than ever. Your muscles were a little sore as if you had run a long distance without stopping. But it was still so good, being in this room with him, cut off from the outside world, was the best feeling you had ever had or could ever have.

When you opened your eyes and saw Marcus's stunning face right next to yours, you felt your sense of fatigue dissipate. He looked so peaceful asleep, almost as if he were a little boy. As you listened to his breathing, you found yourself wishing for a way to make this moment stop. If only you could stay in this room forever, just the two of you.

You were surprised to feel a warmth and a purring near your feet and looked up. Mau was peacefully sleeping on the sheets, curled up next to your feet. You were about to turn away so as not to disturb her when Marcus's arm reached out to pull you back. You felt his chest against your back and he buried his face in your hair.

“Are you trying to run away, beautiful?” he mumbles, still sleepy.

“Of course not, I-” He tightened his arm.

"I'll find you, no matter where you go, my love." He smells your hair, tickles your neck.

“I'm sure you will, General, I have no such intention.” You turned to him. Mau was awake by your movements, she yawned and stretched then jumped down from the bed.

“So, we’re going to stay in this room like, forever?” You ran your index finger along his collarbone.

“My lady, are you already bored with your husband?" He enquired cheerfully.

"Of course not," you said, looking at him. "How about you?"

"That's not even a possibility. You make the most delicious love noises, whimpers, giggles, and at times, little mewls. Your sweet scent compels me. You drive me crazy. I'll never get enough of you."

You snuggled against his chest contently and inhaled deeply.

He kissed your head, right at the top. "I would love to. Believe me." He said, his warm breath caressing your forehead. "To stay like this forever. I wish that it could be possible."

"Me too," you murmured.

With your head on his chest, eyes closed, listening to his heartbeat, he plays with your hair, letting a few strands brush his face and lips. You're both savoring the moment in your own ways.

Then he sighs. “Another hot bath?”

You nod without lifting your head from his chest. He smiles and sits up in bed, his hands on your shoulders.

“I'll leave afterward, I have to go to the barracks.” He leans down and kisses you on the lips. “But not without having breakfast with my beautiful wife, of course."

“Sounds great.” You smiled.

—-

After a very hot bath with Marcus, he told the slaves to bring breakfast to the room again. Just like yesterday, you had another romantic breakfast together. Then he had to get ready, so you helped him put on the burgundy tunic he usually wore under his leather armour.

"Are you sure about this?" Marcus asked.

"As your wife, I want to dress you, including your armor. Can you teach me how?"

He pouted and smiled. “Hmm, alright then.”

He took the leather armour and came to you. "Hold it carefully, it might be heavy for your delicate arms." You stretched your arms forward with a determined look on your face. Marcus suppressed a smile by pursing his lips and handed you the armour. You were surprised by the weight of it and almost stumbled. Why was it so heavy? Marcus laughed. "Are you alright, my lady? If you want me to help you-"

“I'll manage, thank you.” You didn't want to give up, you tried to hold it with all your strength.

"If you wouldn't mind, could you keep holding it while I put on the focalia (scarf) first?"As he wrapped the focalia around his neck, you realized that he was taking too long. Was he stalling?

"Marcus," you said with a little whine in your voice. He let out a little laugh and then came over to you.

"You know, you could really benefit from building up your arm muscles a bit. They're a little on the skinny side, don't you think?"

"Are you really comparing your muscles to mine? That's not fair, General."

He leaned forward to put the armour over his head. "You just need to be strong enough to protect yourself." He took your hands and led them to the side of his armour where the leather straps were. "Make sure to tie it tight," he demanded.

“Enough to protect myself?” You asked as you tied the straps with great care. You got this part just fine. Marcus took hold of the armour as you tied it and made sure it was fitted snugly against his chest.

"Yes, I've been thinking about it for a while."

You looked at him with one eyebrow arched.

"You need to learn to protect yourself."

“Protect from what?” You asked him as you tied the other side.

He turned his head towards you. "From any danger, my lady."

"I am reassured to know you will protect me, as my husband." You said, smiling at him.

He smiled back, but it seemed as though he was pondering something. You looked at him when you finished tying. "The leather strips are next, aren't they? I'll get-“

He suddenly took hold of your wrist and pulled you towards him. "I will protect you from all harm, Aurelia. I would never let anything happen to you. But, if anything were to occur to me, or if..." It seemed as though he was seeking for the right words. "I would never want you to be left without defense when I am not there to help." His voice trembled slightly.

It was torture for him to imagine you like that.

“Nothing will happen to you, Marcus, I won't let it.” You felt a pang of sadness at his words.

He smiled and embraced you, you rested your head on his chest, feeling the surface of leather underneath your cheek. You placed your hand on the medusa, your fingers tracing her eyes.

"It would be wise for us to be prepared for anything, though. I'll teach you.”

“Learning to fight? I’m sure I'll be a terrible student.”

He laughed at your expression and kissed you gently on the lips, lovingly.

“Well, as a General, I am a good teacher.” He said, breaking the kiss.

You pouted your lips. He caressed your cheeks with the back of his hand. Then, as he was showing you how to put leather strips on the shoulder, there was a knock at the door. Cato came in and looked at him in surprise.

“Sir?”

"Cato, my dear wife dressed me in your absence.”

Marcus leaned on the edge of the desk and stretched his arm forward as you tied one of the armbands.

"I'm apologizing for that, sir." He bowed his head.

"Have you completed the task I instructed you to do earlier?”

As you tied the other armband, you wondered what it was but didn't think much about it. It was obviously something to do with his work.

"Yes sir.”

“Good.”

"Here." You said, your voice brimming with joy as you finished tying it.

"Thank you, my lady. I feel safer now that you've dressed me with your blissful hands." He kissed your hand and then your cheek, making you giggle.

Cato seemed embarrassed and looked away.

Marcus cleared his throat and stood up. "Let's get going, Cato," he said, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

You also accompanied them as they exited the room. On your way down the stairs, you observed Norell sweeping the floor in the courtyard. When she saw you, she paused and bowed her head. Cato looked at Marcus as he descended the stairs. “Sir, if you'll excuse me, I have something to say.”

“Say it,” he said without looking at him, gesturing with his hand.

“I was wondering if I could start training with the troops as a real soldier now. Since my lady can help you with the armor.”

Marcus stopped and looked at him, a frown forming on his face. "A real soldier?" You think you're ready to join the army already?

Cato gave a little nod, looking a bit unsure.

Marcus gave a stern look and commanded, "Draw your sword!"

Cato was a bit confused at first, unsure of what to do, but he reached for his holster to draw his sword. But he was too wound up, his hand was shaking, and he had just reached for his sword when Marcus, with great skill, quickly drew his own sword and pointed it at his throat. "And you're dead."

“Gods!” Cato opened his eyes wide and took a deep breath.

You and Norell laughed at Cato's expression.

Marcus quickly sheathed his sword and punched him on the shoulder with his fist as if in a warning. "You can't even draw your sword properly. How can you join the troops and fight the enemy on the front line?"

He rubbed his shoulder. "I was caught off guard, sir. I apologise."

"We'll practice sword drawing today. Now, go and wait for me by your horse. Move!"

“Yes sir!”

You stepped towards Marcus as Cato left the courtyard. "That little rascal." He muttered.

"Aren't you being a little hard on him, General?"

"It's for his own good. He sometimes has a hard time keeping up, but he's a determined boy. I should pay a little more attention to his training now. I have been very busy with the other commanders lately."

You suddenly remembered what Julia told you earlier.

"Are you talking about your legates?"

"That's right."

"Do you have confidence in them?"

Marcus narrowed his eyes. "I'd be lying if I said yes, but why do you ask? May I know?"

"When I was staying at the Domus Severiana, Julia said something to me the night before the game." You swallowed as you remembered that moment. Marcus was listening intently. "She said there were soldiers in the Legates who could take your place if you lost the fight."

Marcus crossed his arms. "I think I have a guess." Then he put his hand on your shoulder. "I appreciate you letting me know," he kissed your forehead. "I need to take my leave now," his fingers ran through your hair. "Wait for my return." He leaned close to your ear. "I'll be looking forward to the night, my beautiful wife.” He gave you a wink and a smile, then turned and left the courtyard at a brisk pace.

You inhaled deeply feeling like you missed him already, but this was the only place you felt completely relieved. His home, your home. You turned towards Norell who was still sweeping the floor and seemed a little shy, so you went over and gave her a hug.

"I've missed you a lot," you said, stroking her ginger-coloured hair.

She was a little hesitant at first, but then she hugged you back. "I missed you too, Domina, I mean my lady, um, princess Aurelia.”

You chuckled. “Please, just call me Aurelia when it's just us.”

She nodded happily.

"Where is Decima?”

"She was feeding the chickens. Um, she told me everything, I'm glad you got her out of there.”

"It's good to see you've got on so well with her.”

A little later, Decima showed up in the courtyard. You called her over, held out your hands, and she held them. "How are you doing, my lady? Is the marriage going well?" She winked at you and gave you a quick look over. "You look a little tired."

You felt your cheeks burning, and Norell let out a little chuckle.

“Because you're keeping your Domina up, let me some rest.” You joked and sat down on the triclinium (couch) in the courtyard. Tullia came running over and looked at the girls angrily. You yawned involuntarily as you leaned on the couch.

"Don't you girls have any manners? Get your Domina something to drink now!”

Norell gave a gentle nod and poured you a glass of wine, which she then handed to you. "Here, my lady," she said, offering you.

"Is there anything else we can get you, Domina?" Tullia was quite a bit older than you, and you felt it would be inappropriate to order her around.

"No, thank you, Tullia."

"Once you've finished your rest, I would like to show you something, my lady," Tullia said. "The General instructed me to do so.”

You took a sip of wine and looked at her, your curiosity piqued. “Now that my husband has instructed you, first, I would like to see what it is.”

Norell and Decima exchanged glances, they must have known already. You took their arm as Tullia led the way.

“Now, tell me, what's going on?”

“You'll see in a minute.” Norell smiled.

"I'm sure you'll like it," Decima assured you.

Tullia stood in front of a door on the other side of the small courtyard where the kitchen was. She opened it and invited you with her hand.

“Please, come in, my lady.”

You released their arms and stepped inside. The room was modest in size, with an array of shelves, a desk, and a mattress. As you perused the shelves, you were amazed to find herbs, vials, tools, and other essential items for a medicus. On the table was a leather bag that seemed similar to one you had previously owned. Your face lit up with a beaming smile. "Did the General have all these items prepared for me?”

“Yes, they are all fresh and new, and will be replenished as you need them, my lady,” Tullia replied.

How much more can I possibly fall in love with this man? You thought to yourself, your heart brimming with love and admiration.

As you were looking at the shelves, observing the herbs, you noticed a smell that immediately caught your attention. It was the same smell you had heard before, the smell of that deadly dangerous plant. Decima reached for the shelf, but you quickly pushed her hand away. “Don’t!"

“It's hemlock, don't touch it.” You looked at Tullia. “Has anyone touched this plant?”

She opened her eyes wide. “Y-yes, one of the slaves-“

“Is that why he's sick?” Norell interrupted.

“Sick?”

"He hasn't been feeling well since yesterday," Decima explained.

"Take me to him," you ordered. "And put this plant in a jar, but hold it with a cloth, don't touch it with your bare hands.”

They nodded in agreement. Norell and Decima took you to the slave boy. He was in the east courtyard with the other male slaves. Fortunately, he was in better condition than you thought. You went back to your little clinic and prepared a mixture of herbs for him. Decima helped you and Norell took it to the slave boy to drink. As you went through the shelves again, organizing the herbs that needed to be stored and dried, footsteps echoed in the courtyard and one of the slaves hurried over to you. You could tell from the look on his face that he was about to say something you wouldn't like.

"Domina, a guard has arrived from the palace. He says you are summoned from Palatine Hill.”

Decima looked at you, but you were looking at the slave. It's only been two days since the wedding. What the hell was this?

"Please tell him that I am unable to leave until my husband returns." You placed the plant you had in the jar and closed the lid. The slave nodded and promptly exited the room and returned to the courtyard.

"Could it possibly be Emperor Geta?" Decima asked.

"I am uncertain, but it does not seem to be an urgent matter. I will speak with Marcus when he returns. I might visit tomorrow.”

At that moment, the footsteps from the courtyard were louder, and it was evident that the individual approaching was clad in armor.

"Princess, Emperor Caracalla requests your presence. I urge you to accompany me," he stated in a tone that was both authoritative and ominous.

You knew Caracalla well, so it seems likely that he would have given this guard clear instructions. You felt sure that he wouldn't leave without you. You took a moment to find your composure and then stood up.

“I'll be ready shortly. Could you wait outside?”

The soldier nodded and walked out of the courtyard.

“Are you sure you'll be back by the time the General arrives?” Decima asked. She followed you out of the room.

“I hope so. Can you give me a hand with my attire?”

She nodded, “I'll come with you, my lady. I can't leave you alone.”

Norell rushed to your side. “Let me help too, my lady.”

You remembered how she dressed you back then. “Yes, please.”

Now that you were a married woman (matrona) you had to wear the stola, which only married women and Vestal priestesses could wear. Your clothes and jewellery had already been brought and placed in Marcus' room.  As you got dressed with the girls' help, you thought about what Caracalla wanted. It was tricky to know what he wanted, and there were lots of possibilities. Norell put a light pink stole over your long tunic, with gold and pearl embroidery from the shoulder to the end of the sleeve which came up to the elbow.

She proceeded to wrap a palla (shawl) of a similar hue and design around your waist and over your head. You then held the ends in your hand and adjusted it by tugging a little. She proceeded to gather your hair to one side, braid it and pin it with gold-embroidered hairpins. She then placed a jewel on top of your head, which resembled a crown. You then became aware that you had missed her dressing you; she did it with enthusiasm and seriousness. Even more so than Geta's slave girl.

“Thank you, Norell."

She smiled at you, but her expression also conveyed a hint of concern.

“We should leave now, Decima. I want to be back before dusk.”

She nodded and followed you. As you exited the courtyard, you felt somewhat unusual being wrapped in this new dress, but you liked it. The guard was waiting for you by the carriage and helped you into it, after all the stola was long enough to cover your feet. Decima sat next to you, and you held her hand the whole way, as you felt more secure having her with you.

——

Upon your arrival at the Domus Severiana, the sun was nearing the horizon. As you entered the great courtyard, you first paid respects to the statue of your father. You were informed that Caracalla was awaiting your presence in the great hall. You said Decima to wait there, and headed with the guard to the long hall to meet your half-brother. It was not often that they were in the private hall, which was reserved for political and policy meetings. These meetings were only convened when something of importance occurred or when documents required stamping.

However, it is clear that Caracalla was more interested in that sort of thing, whereas Geta did not take it seriously at all. As you approached the imposing door of the hall, you looked around. Geta was nowhere to be seen. You had only wanted to see him, not the other one, but still. Two guards greeted you and opened the door for you to enter. Caracalla was standing in the center of the hall with a sword in his hand. He was looking at someone on their knees with their hands tied behind their back. When he recognized you, he opened his hands wide.

"Ah, my dear sister, you have made it. Come dear, come closer." Said with a gesture that includes all ten fingers.

"I'd like to know why you've summoned a married woman when my husband is not at home.”

Your eyes met those of the man on the floor, and you realized with a start that it was Gaius. His face was rather disfigured, with a noticeable amount of blood and bruises. That was rather unexpected. "It is an urgent family matter, something your husband doesn't need to be involved in," he said, in a somewhat abrupt manner.

"Why is Sir Gaius tied up like that? What's going on?"

"We will decide his fate. I have ideas that will be fun to execute, but I wonder what you think."

You swallowed, you didn't like Gaius, but Caracalla's 'ideas' were usually the most bloody and violent ones.

“You can't do this!” Gaius barked. “My reputation-”

Caracalla hit him with his other hand. “Shut up, you cunt! If you cared about your reputation much you should never have returned to Rome!”

Gaius grunted as he spat on the floor.

You were getting tense. “Why exactly are you doing this?” You asked him.

“Why do you think he wanted to marry you? Was it because he was in love with you? Why did he retain that letter? To usurp the throne, of course." He brandished the sword at his throat. "That is what he had always intended.”

He was right, Gaius already admitted it to you before.

"Whoever threatens me will face the consequences." He then pointed the sword at you. "That includes you.”

You gasped, and stumbled back. Then you heard the sound of the door opening.

"Are you insane? What the hell are you doing?" Geta rushed through the door and stood in front of you. "Brother, we're here for this cunt, Gaius. What does Aurelia have to do with this?”

"Cease your dramatics. We're just talking.” Caracalla growled.

“Point your sword at the traitor then, not our sister.” Geta barked.

Caracalla rolled his eyes and passed the sword to the guard next to him. Geta turned to you and gave you a hug, which startled you. He pulled back and smiled. “I missed you, sorry to call you over for a filthy rat.” He turned his gaze to Caracalla. “Our brother was eager to butcher his cousin.”

"You could have managed it yourselves, then. Why did you feel the need to summon me?" You crossed your arms, trying to maintain a calm demeanor.

"So what do you say? The game?" Geta asked Caracalla, his eyes alight with excitement.

"Yes, I want that! It makes total sense."

Geta turned to you, his grin widening. "What do you think, should our cousin set foot in the arena? Oh, it's just so much fun even thinking about it."

You observed Gaius's concerned expression. “ I wouldn't say it's fun since he can't even fight.” You said quietly, surprised at yourself for feeling a little sorry for him.

“It'll be when he finds himself before the tigers.” Caracalla laughed.

Gaius swallowed hard. You tensed up, too, remembering how big and fierce the tiger was.

"Can't you just kill him?" you asked, voice cracking a little.

But your brothers had already made up their minds.

"It's two to one, the decision's been made," Geta said.

Caracalla looked at the guards. "Take this one to the dungeon. He'll be lunch for the tigers in the arena tomorrow.” He laughed so loudly, his voice reverberating off the marble walls of the hall.

"NO! YOU CAN'T! NO!" Gaius wailed.

Geta watched him dragged roughly outside by guards. Then turned towards Caracalla.

“It's so hard to wait until tomorrow.”

Their laughter hummed in your ears as you focused on Gaius' protests and shouts, it was horrible to see a man punished like this, no matter what his crime was.

As the guards forcibly led him away, you turned your eyes Caracalla. "He is, after all, one of our blood, a member of the Severan dynasty. It is unlikely that news of his execution will be well received in Leptis Magna."

A self-confident expression spread across Caracalla's face. "I am the emperor, and as such I am entitled to act as I see fit. It is unlikely that they will dare to interfere with me."

"With us, brother," Geta looked at him sharply.

Caracalla forced a smile. "Yes, of course.” Then he turned towards you. “I told you you'd be a widow if you chose him,” he said with a smirk.

“But I didn't,” you said, unsure of the implication on his face.

"Oh yes, you chose the General, although he is not entirely without fault."

You felt a shiver run down your spine.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you truly believe that the reason he married you was entirely innocent?"

You turned your gaze to Geta, who was crossing his arms, his expression matching his brother's.

"What do you mean?" Your voice was trembling.

"Oh, our sister is unaware of her own significance," Caracalla muttered.

“I agree.” Geta snapped.

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to calm down. "The General didn't know who I was when he met me. He married me because he fell in love with me."

Caracalla's laughter startled you. "Of course, I'm sure he did. We know of his plans with some of the legates. He hides himself well, but we can't be entirely sure. Has he told you about his plans? Perhaps you can find out for us?"

You crossed your arms, angry. "Oh so that's it, that's why you called me here. You want me to sell my husband out to you?"

Caracalla was looking you in the eye. 'Are you putting your husband before your family?' His voice was threatening.

Geta stepped between you and extended his hand.

'She didn't mean that, brother.'

You remained still. "General Acacius is my family, just like you. If he hasn't betrayed you all this time, he never will."

"He better not." Caracalla stepped back and sat back in his chair.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return home." You said and turned round.

"I shall accompany you," Geta said. You left the hall together. While you two walked by the fountain, he turned his head towards you. “Do not praise General Acacius in Caracalla’s presence,” he said in a stern voice.

“What?"

“Don't make him become a threat, that's all he wants.” He warned you.

You looked at him, his expression was so weird that you couldn't make sense of it.

“What about you? Don't you see him as a threat?”

“I may not like him, but I have no intention of killing him. However, I don't trust him either.” He smirked.

You were surprised that Marcus had the same opinion about him. Geta was many things, but he wasn't the dangerous one.

“One more thing. Don't take what he says about your husband seriously, I know he loves you, otherwise I wouldn't have let him marry you.” His eyes were on you, watching you intently.

You cleared your throat and averted your eyes. Geta inhaled deeply.

“I've missed you, it's so boring here in your absence and mother too.”

“Where is Lady Domna?” You asked, not out of curiosity, but because you sensed the sadness in Geta's voice and to change the subject.

“In Syria, I think. With the other members of the Severan dynasty.”

“Why did Caracalla send her away, anyway?”

“Mother, she wanted to marry him off. You know, the emperor must have a son eventually. I'm fortunate he's the older one.” He grinned.

“But he didn't want to marry?”

“No, not yet, I suppose. It's pretty annoying that he trusts Macrinus more than our mother.”

Just then Macrinus as if he heard his name being mentioned, stepped into the courtyard. He recognised you from a distance, greeted you, and hurried over to the big hall to meet Caracalla.

“I thought this was supposed to be a family meeting?” You said sarcastically.

Geta was watching him from a distance. “As I said, sister, Caracalla trusts him more than anyone.”

At that moment, you had a sudden insight. Gaius... Macrinus was the one who brought Gaius to Rome. He put him before the council, before Caracalla, even though he knew his purpose. Then when Gaius wanted to marry you, he became an open target. But why? What did he get out of all this? Suddenly, what he said to you earlier echoed in your mind.

‘You're not seeing the whole picture.’ You felt your body froze, or was he trying to clear his path to the throne? Could it be? Gaius was the likely choice if something happened to Caracalla and Geta. Now that that option is gone, who is his next target? You looked at Geta. Was it him?

“Why are you looking at me like that?" Geta asked in surprise.

Could it be that the reason he sent Julia was to get rid of Geta? You suddenly felt a loss of balance and could no longer feel your feet. Geta quickly wrapped his arm around you.

“Sister, are you alright?”

“My lady!” Decima ran to you.

“I'm alright,” you said, gently pushing Geta's arm away. He frowned. “I'm just a bit tired, I need to go home, please.”

Decima put her arm around your waist as you walked out of the courtyard.

‘You are going to attend the game tomorrow with your husband. Make sure you inform him.’ Geta reminded you.

You looked at him with a hint of apprehension as he smiled warmly. “Have a good night, sister.”

You felt somewhat uneasy about leaving him alone under the same roof as Caracalla, but you knew there was little you could do about it.

You took a deep breath as the carriage moved off. You knew that coming here would put a damper on your mood. You hated to be right. Decima held your hand tightly.

“Are you sure you're alright?”

You smiled at her. “Yes, I am.”

The coachman let out a loud swear word and the carriage shook violently. You nearly fell out of your seat.

“My lady, forgive me, but this silly boy jumped in the middle of the road.”

“Get back here!”

Another man's voice rang out down the street, followed by the cries of a child. When you popped your head out of the car, you were pretty mad at what you saw. The man was beating the boy viciously.

You got out of the carriage, and Decima was a little unsteady in her steps as she tried to keep up with you.

‘Stop! Stop it! Now!’ You shouted the man.

The man's eyes widened as he eyed you up and down. You lifted the boy up and put your arm around him, he grasped the fabric of your dress hiding behind you.

'Why are you hitting a little boy?'

'But my lady, he stole apples from my stall.'

You looked at the boy, who was ashamed.

'Decima, could I have my pouch, please?' you asked, holding out your hand.

She nodded and got it for you, handing it over. You took some coins from it and gave them to him, which was enough to buy a sack of apples.

'Thank you, Gods bless you, my lady,' he bowed his head, squinting at the boy, then turned and walked away.

'Are you Princess Aurelia?' the boy looked at you curiously.

You smiled at him and crouched down.

'Yes, I'm Aurelia. May I ask your name, young man?' You looked at his face. He was dirty and his clothes were torn.

'I don't have a name, nobody in the poorhouse has a name.'

'Poorhouse? Oh, you stole an apple because you were hungry then?' It was heartbreaking. A little boy doesn't deserve to live like this.

'No, my mother just had a baby, but she couldn't eat anything, so I was taking it to her because the baby was crying all the time, and mother's breast milk didn't come in.’

This upset you even more. You felt your stomach tighten and your eyes well up with tears. You took the child's hand. 'Let's get some food for your mother, then.'

The child's eyes opened wide in surprise. ‘Really? Are you going to pay?'

You gave him a smile. 'Yes, my little dove.'

Decima approached you hesitantly. 'My lady, maybe you should ask the guards to do it? It could be dangerous.'

'Why? They're just poor people.'

'It's dark now, the General might be upset if he-’

'Don't worry about that, Decima, we'll be back when we're done. He'll understand.'

Decima gave a little smile. 'How can you be so kind-hearted like this?'

'They're my people, so it's my duty to look after them.'

'It seems your brothers have a different view on this.'

You gave her a look, and she swallowed. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean-

“No, no. You’re right, they don't care about these people at all.’

When you got to the Poorhouse, you almost wished you'd done what Decima said. Life here was a different story to what you'd find elsewhere in the city. It was pretty brutal, grueling and painful.  There were a lot of people here. The situation was pretty dire. This was actually an old ruined insula, but these people had taken refuge here, living on the street and on the cobblestones. When they recognised you, they all looked a bit surprised. The kids ran over to you, looking you up and down, tugging your dress curiously, and taking a good look at the food in your hand. The boys’ mother was lying on an old mattress with the baby, and, she was really surprised to see you. The boy told his mother what had happened, she started crying with happiness. You were able to feed these people today, but you didn't know what would happen tomorrow.

The guard who picked you up from the villa came running to you a little later.

“My lady, the coachman said you were here. Did these rats hurt you?”

He looked at them angrily and pushed a boy away with his hand in disgust.

“That's nonsense! Why would they hurt me?”

You looked at the children and smiled. Decima was handing them the apples you'd brought, and they were singing as they ate. You turned to the guard.

"Come with me," you commanded, beckoning him outside. “You are to bring food supplies here every week.”

“But, my lady, they’re just homeless and poor people.”

“So? Are you suggesting that they are undeserving of life?”

“No, I'm saying-“

“Do as I say and assign two men here. One to distribute food and the other to bring supplies. I will come and check on this place every week, do you understand me?” You spoke firmly and with conviction, and it seemed to work.

“Yes, my lady.” He bowed his head.

“Good, now take me back to the villa.”

—

The imperial carriage arrived at the villa in the late evening. Decima helped you out and, since it had been a long day, you were feeling pretty tired. As the carriage drove away, you stepped towards Tullia, who was waiting for you at the courtyard gate of the villa. She smiled in relief.

“My lady, thank Gods you arrived before the General returns.”

“He hasn't arrived yet?” You were surprised but relieved as well.

However, just as you were about to step inside, the sound of two horses galloping was heard from down the road. All three of you suddenly became tense and looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Aurelia!”

The General's voice was loud and it came to you like ‘now you're in trouble’. You turned to look at him, he jumped off his horse and came towards you, his face stern and curious. Cato dismounted from his horse and grabbed the harnesses of both horses.

Marcus looked you up and down. “Are you going somewhere at this hour?”

You swallowed, Tullia and Decima bowed to the General and went inside. Cato and the others headed to the corral to tie up the horses.

‘I, uh-’

Marcus wrapped his arms around your waist. “Or are you dressed so elaborately for me?” He smirked. ”No need, my love, you're so beautiful already." He leaned down and kissed you. “I missed you so much, today has felt endless.” He took your hand and pulled you inside with him.

“I went to Palatine Hill.” you suddenly said. "Caracalla summoned me."

Marcus paused in the middle of the courtyard, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. His expression became somewhat stern. “What does he want at this hour?”

“Can I tell you while we eat? You just came, I assume you must be hungry.”

"That is correct,” he said and turned towards Tullia. “Bring our supper to the room.” He then proceeded to lead you by the hand towards the stairs. His grip on your hand was firm and somewhat painful, indicating his tension.

When you got to the room, he released your hand and removed the holster from his waistband.

‘Allow me,’ you demanded and approached him. Marcus stood still, his dark brown eyes on you.

'He actually called me over, earlier,' you said as you removed the leather strips from his shoulders.

Marcus frowned. He averted his gaze as you undid the strings of his armour.

'What did he exactly want?'

'He's going to throw Gaius to the tigers tomorrow.'

He raised his eyebrows, clearly thinking but not seeming surprised. 'It's not the first time for him to throw someone before animals, but I wonder why his cousin?'

'They're expecting to see us at the Colosseum tomorrow to watch the game.' You extended your arms to the other side but he stopped you by grabbing your shoulders.

'Aurelia, I asked you why.' His brown eyes piercing yours. You blinked your eyes a few times.

“He stated emphatically that Gaius had betrayed him and coveted the throne.” He narrowed his eyes, dissatisfied with your answer. He knew you well and needed to hear more. “Also he said that's why he wanted to marry me – that he'd always planned it so."

He released your shoulders and his expression softened as you began to untie the strings of the other side of his armour.

‘He didn't say anything about me?’

You paused for a moment but kept untying. ‘He suspects you're up to something. But he can't be sure, so he asked me to rat you out to him.’

Marcus took off his armour with your help.

‘What did you tell him?’

‘I said that I can't do that, of course.’ You reached for his arm to take off the armband, but he grabbed your arm first and pulled it to himself.

‘You should have done what he said,’ he murmured.

You looked at him with wide eyes. ‘Marcus, how could-’

‘To trick him, my love. You must lie.’ He wrapped his arm around your waist.

‘I see your point. You’re right. I should've. I will next time.”

He smirked and squeezed your cheek softly. “You’re just so innocent.” He kissed your cheek then.

You smiled, but you couldn't help but feel a hint of concern deep inside you. "Marcus, you know how ruthless he is. Please be careful.”

"There is no need for concern. I believe everything is going as I predicted. I found the rat among the Legates who was spying for him and Macrinus. I will take my steps accordingly.”

"Is his intention to seize the throne?”

"Macrinus? I think so, but I'm not sure how to prevent him from making his move.”

You were feeling a bit nervous that Marcus might be putting himself in danger. Macrinus was a dangerous and clever enemy. You suddenly remembered the dream you'd had. Your mother's voice echoed in your ears again. 'Think.'  Could he be the real threat? To you? To Marcus?

Marcus was observing your face, “It bothered you, didn't it? Let's put that aside for now.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door and Norell brought your supper. 'Just the right moment,' Marcus said with a smile.

Once she left, Marcus turned towards you. "Let me help you out of that dress so you can eat more comfortably."

He helped you remove the palla and the stola, leaving you both in your tunics. You felt really relaxed.

"I'm going to have to get used to this dress; it covers me quite a bit," you said with a laugh.

Marcus smiled. "It looked good on you my love but I must say, though, that I prefer you undressed.”

He smiled when your cheeks flushed and pulled you closer, kissing softly. Then he settled down next to the table and sat you on his lap again, which you got used to immediately because you liked it so much. You had eaten a little when Mau suddenly came running from the balcony and jumped on your lap. This caused you to reflexively pull your hand back, but you forgot that you were holding a glass, so the wine spilled on you and a little on Marcus' leg. You looked at him with wide eyes.

“Apologies. Mau, look what you did!”

You took her off your lap, your white tunic was soaked with the red color of the wine.

“Too bad,” you mumbled, attempting to clean it with a cloth, but it seemed to be ineffective.

“I wouldn't say that.”  Marcus was locked on your breasts and nipples, which were on full reveal thanks to the wine. Like an open invitation for him. His breathing became heavy, and he supported you around the waist with one hand, lowering his head to your breasts. He was like a hunter approaching his prey. Your heart began to beat rapidly with thrilling anticipation. As his prey, you stood still and waited impatiently for what he was about to do, closing your eyes. You gasped when his hot breath caressed your wet skin, and you felt his tongue on your sternum, biting your lower lip hard.

"Mmm, delicious. It is, without a doubt, the finest wine I have ever tasted." He smirked mischievously.

You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. "I believe I have accidentally included myself on the menu."

His eyes met yours, and a spark of desire ignited in your soul. "I'm going to enjoy eating you.”

Then he kissed you passionately, hungrily. Meanwhile, Mau was enjoying the food on the tray, but you were preoccupied to pay her much attention. Marcus was holding you in his lap with one hand and undressing you with the other. His fingers were more eager than ever, and in the process of undressing you, they ripped the fabric of your tunic. Which was a massive turn-on for you. Once you were completely naked on his lap, he stood up and hurried you to the bed, accompanied by your giggles.

 

---

your feedbacks important to me please comment if you enjoyed thank you 

 

Chapter 9: The Rage

"Aut inveniam viam aut faciam. ”

I shall either find a way or make one.

H.

 

“Can I just ask where we're going so early?” You asked Marcus that morning.

“Patience, my lady.’”

After you woke up, while you were lying on the bed, resting your head on his chest, he told you that he had something he wanted to show you, before you had even had a chance to eat breakfast. You were even more surprised when Marcus grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the courtyard of the villa, towards the stables. The slaves were feeding the horses their morning meal, and the horses were consuming their food with growls and much appetite. It was breakfast time for the chickens in the hen house as well. Decima was feeding them, saw you from a distance, ceased her work and bowed to you. You could tell from her smile that she was aware of everything that was going on. You noticed that you had never set foot on this side of the villa before. The General had specifically instructed them not to tire you out when you were here as his slave, so you had never had any work to do out here. You smiled as you recalling those times. Remembering, how you had shied away from him at first, but then how you had fallen in love with him as you came to know his softer side day by day.

A slave brought Marcus's horse Dromos from the stables, and Marcus grabbed his reins with a big, beaming smile. Dromos whinnied, and Marcus stroked his face, chuckling. There was a special bond between them that went beyond the typical horse-and-rider relationship. While you were admiring them, Marcus looked at you, pulled the reins, and stepped towards you, holding his hand out warmly.

"My lady, I believe you remember Dromos."

"Indeed I do, how are you Dromos?" You took Marcus's hand and stroked the horse's neck with the other.

He lifted one leg and stamped his hoof and whinnied. You smiled, his warm furry skin was soothing.

"It seems he missed you." Marcus smiled and then looked at something behind you. "Now, we've got some riding to do," he said, straightening Dromos' saddle.

You nodded and approached the horse, but Marcus gently touched your arm to stop you. You looked at him in surprise. He looked at the other side of the stables and pointed with his finger.

‘Your horse is over there,’ he said.

You turned your head slightly and saw Cato first. He was making his way towards you with a horse that was particularly striking, with white hair that shone like satin in the sunlight. The horse lifted its head and let out a soft whinny as its white mane blew gently in the breeze. As it drew closer, its gaze turned towards you, and you were struck by its undeniable beauty. Although you were not particularly knowledgeable about horses, you could say that this snow-white animal was not your typical equine. It seemed to have been meticulously selected. With some hesitation, you reached out and gently stroked the horse's neck, running your fingers through its lustrous pearl-white mane. There was a captivating elegance in this magnificent creature.

“She's beautiful,” you murmured.

“A rare one, just like my beautiful wife,” Marcus said, his eyes meeting yours as he approached. He was smiling warmly. He put his fingers right next to yours. The white horse lifted one of its hind legs, hit it on the ground, and moved a little as if it wanted you to ride on it.

“Bridal gift for you, I didn't have a chance to introduce you two before. Are you pleased?”

You gazed at him and found yourself once more swept up in your feelings for him. His charms were undeniable. With each passing day, your love for him deepens. You wondered how he managed to make you feel this way.

“Marcus, this is the best gift I've ever received in my life. I am immensely grateful." You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his chest. He put his arms around you.

“I am more grateful, my love." He gave you a little kiss on the top of your head. “Besides, you need to learn to ride by yourself.” He stroked your hair with his fingers. “Do you feel ready to ride together with me?”

You nodded, “Yes, but I'm not that good. I only rode once or twice back then in Egypt.”

“You'll learn in time. Now I want you to place your foot in the stirrup and mount by yourself. Can you do it?”

You put your foot in the stirrup as he said and looked at him. The horse moved a little, which made you stagger.

"Just make sure it's firm, then grab the saddle and climb up."

You grabbed the saddle and pulled yourself up as hard as you could, then settled down. However, the horse moved and you leaned forward to grasp the reins, your head close to her mane, feeling the wind on your cheeks. You probably looked a bit strange.

Marcus let out a chuckle. “Make sure you're sitting up straight and in control. Keep a firm grip on the reins.”

“But, she’s moving too much, she's not staying still, I'm afraid of falling.” You complained.

“Then you need to calm her down. Give her a gentle pat on the neck with your hand and reassure her by gripping the reins firmly. She needs to know you're in control.”

When you did as he said, you saw that the horse had calmed down, so you gathered your courage, sat up straight, grabbed the reins with both hands and gave them a little tug. It felt great to be in control, and you smiled at Marcus.

"I did it!"

"You haven't even started riding yet, princess."

Your smile faded. "Oh, right. How am I supposed to do that?"

Marcus laughed. "Gently squeeze the horse's ribcage with the calves of your legs to cue her to move forward.”

Your body tensed up a bit as the horse moved forward, but you quickly regained your composure and excitement replaced your fear. It was a great feeling. The horse kept on going, so you turned your head to look at him, but Marcus was already mounted on his horse and came towards you.

“Well done, my lady.” He smirked. “Come now, pick up the pace, follow my lead,” Marcus gripped the reins tighter and gave Dromos a little pat on the rump, and the horse started to gallop. As the distance between you and Marcus increased, you did the same, and with the sudden burst of speed, you swayed, your heart pounding. The wind was blowing your hair and caressing your face, which felt amazing.

“Marcus! Wait for me!" You called out to him, and he looked back at you with that childish smile on his face. It was clear he was enjoying himself, and you were no exception. You felt the same sense of exhilaration riding with him. There is no feeling in the world that can compare to the freedom you experience when traveling on horseback through the trees.

"My Lady! We're nearly there!" Marcus pointed up the hill a little later. Since you had learned to control it, you pulled the reins in the direction you wanted to go and stroked her belly a little and she immediately fulfilled your wishes. You smiled, pleased with yourself. As if you had won a victory. Marcus slowed his horse and circled the area he had indicated, waiting for you. You pulled the reins firmly and your horse neighed, lifted its legs slightly, and stopped. Marcus looked satisfied.

“You are a quick learner, princess.” He said, dismounting and leading Dromos to a nearby tree.

“I think she likes me too,” you said, sliding your leg over her back to dismount and jumping down.

“Would you perhaps like to name her?” Marcus stepped towards you.

“Yes, I was thinking, um. Since she’s so pure and white, I'd like to call her Unio (pearl).”

He nodded. “Clever, well suited,” He then grabbed Unio's reins and tied them to the same tree.

You became aware of the river at the bottom of the hill. It was the Tiber. Just ahead, you could discern the silhouette of the great city, which appeared to be quite beautiful. Also, It was a delight to behold the enormous structure from a distance once more, as you set foot on the very ground from which you had previously observed it from the balcony of the Domus Severiana.

Marcus approached behind you and wrapped his arms around you, placing his head on your shoulder.

“This is where I come every night and think of you looking up there.”

You turned your head towards him. He was pointing to the Domus Severiana.

“Every night?”

“That's true.’ His lips hovered over your cheekbone, his eyelashes caressed your forehead.

“So was I, looking out from the balcony, trying to make out the villa in the distance and thinking of you.”

He smiled mischievously as he brought his lips closer to yours. “Were you thinking about that blissful night we had too? Those intense moments? Did you desire me as much as I desired you?” He purred, tightened his arms just below your breasts, and pushed them slowly upwards.

Your cheeks flushed and you slapped his shoulder. "Marcus." You whined.

"There's no need to feel ashamed, my love," he said pressing his lips to yours and kissing them lovingly. Then he pulled back. "You must be hungry," he said, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you to sit among the flowers in the meadow. As you looked at him curiously, he turned around and walked back to his horse. He opened the saddlebag. Then stepped towards you with a bundle in his hand.

“Have you brought breakfast for us?” You shot him a look. He sat down next to you, undid the bundle's knot, and took out a loaf of bread and some fruit.

“I told them to prepare it yesterday. Come, have some, you need strength.” He fed you a piece of bread. Then he put his arm around you.

“What do I need strength for?”

“For your training.’’

You swallowed your bite and frowned. “Training?”

He smiled, “Yes."

“So you're pretty adamant about this?”

“I am.” His look was determined indeed.

Once you had eaten enough, Marcus took you by the hand and lifted you up.

"I had something made for you," he said, reaching for the holster on his waist.

"Another present?"

Marcus was holding a scabbard, but it was smaller than a pugio. He crouched down beside you. You flinched when he lifted the hem of your dress and touched your leg.

“What are you doing?” You tried to pull your leg back, but his hand was so strong you couldn't even move it.

“Stay still.” He was tying it a little above your ankle. It was strange to feel the leather fabric on your skin. You moved your leg as Marcus stood up after finishing. You lifted the hem of your dress to observe the scabbard. It wasn't particularly heavy, but it was a little uncomfortable. Seemed like an irrelevant accessory on your ankle.

“Is that a dagger?” You wailed.

“Not exactly, a small knife. I thought you could use it until we get to pugio.”

You lifted and lowered your leg, it was a strange feeling.

“Try pulling it out of its sheath.” His voice was almost commanding.

Marcus the romantic was gone and Acacius the General was here.

You did as he said, grasped the handle of the dagger, and pulled it out of its sheath, a little slowly. Why was it so difficult?

Marcus put both hands on his waist. “Do you think your enemy will wait for you to draw your knife?”

You rolled your eyes. “I'm a medicus, remember? Are you telling me to cut people with this?”

“Cut if you have to, then cure if you wish.” He said with a stubborn temperament.

You laughed, but he didn't. Wasn't it a joke?

“Now hold it out and attack me.”

You opened your eyes wide. “What? Marcus, I can’t.”

“I said do it, Aurelia.”

“What if I hurt you?”

Marcus let out a little laugh, a hint of smugness in his voice. “Don't worry, my lady. You couldn't hurt me even if you wanted to. But you need to learn how to use your knife. Now, attack.”

You did as he said and lunged forward, holding the knife with one hand and making a slashing motion.

He rolled his eyes. “Strike with more power, think of it as having all your strength in your arm.”

You nodded and tried again. Marcus was not satisfied, and inhaled deeply. “The advantage of a short, small knife is that you can change direction more quickly.” He said and grabbed your hand holding the knife and supported your shoulder from behind with his other hand. “But if you have a target to focus on, you should do it like this.” He said and made your knife-holding hand make a fast-forward attack that almost made you stumble. “Like this.” Then he had you take the knife in your other hand. "Then this way." He had you make another attack, this time with a fast-cutting motion. “One, two, three.” Then he had you make a stabbing attack, and he tugged your wrist forward, but his wrist was so strong you stumbled again. Then he stepped back and stood in front of you, spreading his arms. “Now try to attack me once more.”

You raised your arm with determination, but also a hint of hesitation, to attack him. However, he was quick to evade your attack with ease, and you found yourself almost colliding with a nearby tree. You took a moment to collect yourself and then turned to face him.

“Try attacking again.” He said decisively.

This time you lunged at him with all your determination, but he grabbed your wrist and spun you around, almost without moving, and before you knew it, he pulled you towards him, your back slamming into his chest, your knife right next to your neck. His hand was gripping your wrist so tightly it was impossible to move it. You felt his lips on your head, you tried to get out of his arms but he wouldn't let you. “Try a little harder, princess,” he murmured and released you. Then he faced you again, his expression serious as he looked down at your legs.

“Spread your legs properly.” He ordered.

You obey.

“Suck your stomach.”

You breathed deeply and tried to stand up straight.

“Now try it again.”

You did the cutting motions he had just shown you, but for some reason, he still wasn't satisfied. He closed his eyelids tightly and sighed deeply. 

“Why is this so hard,” he muttered. He came over and snatched the knife from your hand and stepped backward. "Watch, how I do it."

He held the knife ready for the attack and skilfully made the same slashing motions as before, coming up beside you. "Do it like this."

His expression was so serious you couldn't help but chuckle.

"Spread your legs, suck your stomach, do it like this," you said, imitating his voice and movements. As you laughed again, his expression softened and he began laughing too.

“You found it quite funny, my lady?”

You were still laughing. “Yes, it was very funny.”

He grinned and extended his hand to you. " I think that's enough for today. Could you lift your dress up so I can put it back."

You took a step backward. "No way, I don't want that sharp thing on my leg." You said it in a slightly joking tone.

He narrowed his eyes and took a step towards you. You took another step back in response.

"I said lift your dress up." His voice was stern and commanding, but his expression was mocking.

‘What if I don't?’ You took a few more steps backward as he was coming towards you.

"Then I'll have to force you to do it."

“Try,” you said, turning on your heel and striding off with a laugh.

Marcus grinned. “As if I can't catch you easily,” he said and started running after you. As you ran as fast as you could across the meadow, he was chasing you.

“You must surrender before you trip and fall, Aurelia!” His voice echoed across the meadow.

"No way, General!" You continued to run, this time you turned the other way, but Marcus was faster. He grabbed you from behind with his strong arms and you giggled and struggled with all your strength. He deliberately let you both fall, and you rolled among the flowers in the meadow. One more roll, you were lying on the ground with Marcus on top of you, gasping for breath. You looked up at him and saw that he was laughing as you were. "I told you I'd find you wherever you ran, my lady," he said and bent his head down and kissed you passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and ran your fingers through his hair as Marcus' hand grazed the fabric of your dress sliding it up your leg. You broke the kiss and looked at him in surprise.

"What are you-"

"Easy," he said, and he grabbed your leg, lifted it up, and sheathed the knife. Then he kissed your knee and looked at you.

"Promise me you'll carry this knife when I'm not around." His expression was stern, the kind you couldn't argue with.

You nodded. “I promise.”

He uttered a soft, tender murmur as his fingers stroked your hair. "I truly hope that you never have to use it." Then he kissed you again, with greater intensity this time, conveying the emotion he was feeling to you through his lips. All of sudden, you heard the sound of a pipe echoing in the distance, and he broke the kiss. It seemed to you that the sound of the drums and pipes preceded the public announcement. You both turned your heads in that direction, it sounded more like a murmur through the meadow.

“It must be almost time for the game to start,” Marcus muttered.

You let out a sigh. “I really don't want to go,” you whined, glancing at the silhouette of the Colosseum.

Marcus turned his head towards you and helped you sit down. “I don't want to provide Caracalla with another reason to summon you.”

“You're right, I think I can bear it with you by my side,” you said, brushing his hair with your fingers to remove grass particles.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “As long as I'm with you, you don't have to worry about anything, my love.”

You nodded. Then he stood up and held out his hand to you. “We should head home and prepare to get going.”

——

As you and Marcus were traveling to the Colosseum, the crowds were gathering in that direction. There was a great deal of discussion about Gaius and his treachery. You could hear people talking about him and his fate with great enthusiasm. The carriage stopped in front of the stairs, and you and Marcus got out. As you ascended the stairs together, those who recognised you greeted you, and you responded by saluting them with a raised hand. The members of the Senate were also making their way up the stairs at a brisk pace, each of them turning around to greet you with a kind smile. It would be fair to say that you were the most talked about married couple in Rome. While holding Marcus' hand, you made your way to the imperial tribune together, where you observed that Geta and Caracalla had already arrived and taken their seats. Caracalla gave you a brief glance and turned his attention back to the arena. He and Marcus exchanged glances as Geta stood up and waited for you to sit next to him. Marcus greeted them and moved to sit next to your seat. However, as soon as he pulled you close, Geta reached out and hugged you, but Marcus was determined to keep hold of your hand. You found yourself stumbled between the two of them.

“Sister, you're here.” He looked at Marcus's hand gripping yours and grinned. “Come now, take a seat, it's almost time.”

Marcus's expression was stern as he pulled you close, made sure you sat down and then settled down next to you. He had no intention of letting go of your hand, and you were perfectly comfortable with it. Geta turned around and called Macrinus, who had just arrived. For some reason he looked happy. You didn't like it. His usual cheerful mood usually puts you in a tense one. Marcus probably felt the same. He bowed to you and took his seat. Geta and Caracalla seemed to be in high spirits and excited as usual, probably because it was their favourite moment. They stood up, and greeted the crowd as the announcer announced the game. Then stepped back and took their seats. Geta leaned towards you. “Ready to see the tigers, sister?”

You pouted your lips and shrugged your shoulders.

“I'm so thrilled. Look, my palms are all sweaty.” He showed you his palms with a wide smile, you pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a laugh.

“Good for you,” you said sarcastically. "I do wonder, though, if all this preparation is really for the purpose of making our cousin lunch for the tigers.”

Geta laughed. “No, that would be sooo boring. Macrinus has brought new gladiators, you will see them soon. Today's games will be slightly different from the others. It has been a while since we have seen warriors fighting dangerous animals.”

‘Gaius isn't a warrior,’ you muttered.

‘No, he's just a bait. Here we gooo,’ he said with clapping his hands, as the drums began to beat. The announcer threw up his arms and the crowd fell silent.

“People of Rooome! Who do you cheer for? The barbarian warriors who have come here today, risking their lives, are they worthy of your praise? Or do you cheer for the fearless gladiators who have embraced death? Or do you cheer for the fierce, dangerous tigers?”

The crowd roared, their voices growing louder with each mention of the tigers.

“Or for the execution of a traitor? The day of judgment has come. Our Emperors and yours must pass judgment on this traitor!”

The crowd was now cheering loudly in approval. One of the iron gates opened and Gaius was forced into the arena by the guards, who prodded him with spears. Geta stood up and gestured to one of the guards. The guard handed him a pugio. Then Geta called out to Gaius, "Hey, Gaius the traitor, take this. I don't want it to end quickly!"

He hurled it down the bleachers at him. Caracalla immediately checked to see where it had fallen. "That fool will die before he gets to it," he said, laughing. And the other gates opened, accompanied by the beating of drums and the sound of trumpets.

The barbarians stormed the arena, five of them, some with shields and spears, others with crossbows. The crowd cheered with gusto, and Geta and Caracalla applauded. Then the gladiators entered the arena, three of them, with shields and swords, one of them wearing a galea (helmet). Geta and Caracalla clapped even louder. The gladiators gave their customary salute to the emperors and gathered among themselves. Gaius still hadn't got the pugio, and Caracalla gave him a lot of abuse. He was stuck between two groups of warriors, but he was determined to get to the pugio. It was going to be tough. In that dusty, sandy field, everyone was each other's enemy.

"Let it begin!" Caracalla shouted firmly. The drums beat louder and the crowd roared. Tension and Thriller filled the air. Marcus stroked your hand with his thumb and smiled at you. Then he swiftly turned his eyes to the game. You were curious as to why the tigers still hadn't appeared. Geta and Caracalla knew what they were doing. They must have a good plan. The barbarians and gladiators charged at Gaius simultaneously. Gaius was about to take the pugio when a trapdoor opened in the sandy ground and a huge tiger came roaring out of nowhere. Gaius jumped back, but in his fright, he lost his footing and fell to the ground.

“Oh, he'll die so soon.” Geta whined.

“He's boring, as usual.” Caracalla agreed.

They laughed together.

The gladiators reached Gaius first and pulled him back. You looked at Geta. He winked at you, "I told you. Different kind of fight."

Marcus leaned in close to your ear. “Part of the game,” he explained.

It didn't take long to see how dangerous a game this was. While the barbarians and gladiators fought each other, Gaius was played like a toy right in the centre. One of the two groups of warriors was going to throw him to the tigers, but not before giving him a good thrashing on the sandy ground. As soon as the other tiger emerged from the subterranean floor onto the sandy ground directly opposite the other, the barbarians turned on the gladiators. One of them kicked one of the gladiators and plunged his sword into his neck, blood gushing from his throat and splattering the sandy floor like wine red. The violence was overwhelming. You would never get used to this. Gaius tried to run away, taking advantage of the clash of the two groups, but one of the barbarians kicked him in the thigh and pushed him into a tiger. Geta jumped to his feet, and Caracalla had already run to the balustrade.

"Eat him!" Geta clapped his hands excitedly.

Caracalla laughed loudly and madly.

You closed your eyes and squeezed your eyelids tight. The crowd was clearly excited and your half-brothers were shouting with joy. It was obvious that the tiger was eating his lunch. Marcus took your hand in both of his and stroked it. You were grateful he was there because you would have fainted at the sight of this savagery.

“Did you hear his bones crunching?” Geta looked at you and laughed.

When you rolled your eyes, he twisted his lips. "Come now, sister, didn't you watch Gaius' vile body crumble between that animal’s teeth?"

“I think I've seen enough,” you muttered.

“I'm sure you enjoyed it too, you hide it well though.” Caracalla grinned.

You forced a smile in response.

“What do you reckon? Two gladiators left.” Geta asked him.

'The barbarians don't stand a chance.’

“Hmm. I'd like to hear your opinion, Acacius.” Geta demanded.

You three turned your heads to Marcus.

“I agree with Emperor Caracalla. These barbarians are attacking recklessly and without thinking.” He answered without looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the gladiators, and you found yourself wondering what he was thinking.

After a while, when the barbarians were down to two, you realised Marcus was right.

“Aaaahh, two on two! Thrilling!” Geta clapped his hands excitedly.

“I told you, the gladiators will take them easily.”

“The game's not over yet, brother.”

Indeed it wasn't, as the tigers struggled to break free from their chains, the barbarians, seeing an opportunity, took advantage of the tigers as hiding behind them to launch an attack on the gladiators with bolts, hitting one in the arm. However, this was a risky move, tigers, despite being bound by thick iron chains, retained a great deal of mobility. One of the gladiators, wearing a galea, managed to remove the bolt from his arm and picked up his spear, which he then threw at one of the tigers. The spear pierced the animal's throat with a single thrust, and it collapsed with a great groan of pain. You felt your chest hurt. Despite being a deadly predator, it was an animal torn from its natural environment and was forced to fight there.

Geta pursed his lips, “I can't believe how you died so easily, you stupid animal.”

“There's still one left, brother.”

You found their conversation somewhat callous and wished for the game to end soon. You felt a longing to leave this place and return home with your husband.

The gladiator made a swift and decisive move, leaping from the lifeless body of the tiger and engaging in a sword fight with the barbarian. The other tiger let out a roar that echoed throughout the arena, accompanied by the sounds of the clash. As the other two of them fought each other, the tiger touched its claw lightly on the other gladiator's leg, but it was enough to cause significant injury. The man staggered backwards, the pain intense and shocking, and before he could recover, the other barbarian slashed his neck with his sword. The tiger lunged at him, but the chain and soldiers holding him down prevented him from attacking. Geta narrowed his eyes.

“Aaah, now it's two on one!”

“I knew it!” Caracalla clapped his hands in excitement.

The gladiator did not hesitate to engage with the barbarians, swiftly cutting the other one's arm before they could bring their sword down on him. This move seemed familiar to you for a reason. Marcus muttered something, and you knew he was thinking the same as you. You weren't trying to learn something about fighting. You had seen this gladiator fight before. You looked at Geta and Caracalla, then at Macrinus. He smiled meaningfully at you. That was him, that gladiator. The gladiator who injured Marcus' arm in a fight with him last time, and whose life was spared by him. But why?

Marcus muttered, "His movements have improved, but he still doesn't have enough use of his wrist.'

"Why is he here to fight again?"

Marcus looked at you. "There are many answers to that, my guess is rage.”

‘Rage?’

He fixed his gaze on the gladiator who had vanquished one of the barbarians, intensifying the fervour of the crowd. “His eyes are filled with nothing but rage. He battles using it, and when he triumphs, he believes it is because he is strong. However, it hinders his ability to think rationally, and it appears that defeat has made him even more relentless. This is indisputable proof that he is not basing his actions on logic.”

He turned his head back to him and saw that the gladiator had cut down the last barbarian. The crowd was whistling and cheering him on as he raised his arms. Geta and Caracalla were also applauding. Caracalla raised his arms. "And here is our champion! Take off that galea so we can see your face!”

The gladiator obeyed and removed his galea. He was looking at Marcus as he greeted you all. That made you feel very uncomfortable. Marcus squinted at him.

“What a fight.” Geta took his seat, and Caracalla sat next to him.

“This is the part I hate the most, the moment when the fight ends.” Caracalla mumbled.

“You're joining the banquet tonight, aren't you?” Geta asked you.

And you were just about to answer him when, in the blink of an eye, a bolt came out of nowhere and stuck between you and Marcus, just through his seat. You felt your heart leap into your throat. It was so close to you that you could almost hear the sound of it swooshing. While Geta and Caracalla let out screams of panic, Marcus flinched backward. First, his brown eyes locked on you, and then he turned his gaze in the direction of the bolt. You just held your breath, still in shock. Marcus was filled with an incredible rage, jumped to his feet. You pulled yourself together and turned in the direction he was facing. Geta grabbed your shoulders.

“Sister! Are you alright?”

You nodded, your eyes fixed on Marcus. The gladiator was grinning down at you, crossbow in hand, as if trying to enrage Marcus even more. Geta and Caracalla stood up to look at him.

“As a champion, I challenge General Acacius!”

Caracalla burst out laughing. Geta clapped his hands and turned to Marcus.

“You should have killed him last time, Acacius.”

Marcus locked eyes with him, and you could have sworn he'd killed him so many times with his deadly gaze. You gripped his hand in both of yours.

He already knew what you were going to say. He turned to you, his eyes sharp and unblinking. “I'll tear him to pieces.”

“We support you, General Acacius!” Geta cheered.

“You must learn to speak for yourself,” Caracalla complained.

You ignored them, your eyes locked on Marcus'. All your tormenting fears had returned.

“Aren't you going to punish him? That could have hit me or you!” You said Geta.

“He knew exactly where he was shooting it, my sister,” Caracalla said arrogantly.

Geta shook his head. “He challenged the General, and being a man of honor, he must fight. Please make sure you kill him this time, won't you?”

As the crowd watched the General with curious murmurs, you were looking at him with teary eyes. He had already reached a decision at the moment the arrow pierced his seat. He withdrew his hand from between yours, removed the arrow with some force, and approached the balustrade, raising his hand and regarding the gladiator.

"I, Marcus Acacius, accept your challenge." He raised his hand. "I shall ensure that you regret shooting this!"

As the crowd began to cheer wildly, you could feel your heart pounding fast. As Marcus turned to face you and looked into your eyes for the last time, you decided to support him instead of being afraid. He needed it.

“You beat him once, I'm sure you'll beat him again, my love.”

His brown eyes sparkled as he heard those words coming from your mouth, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it.

"I will, my lady." He smiled and strode out, passing between the senators' seats and heading down to the lowest level of the Colosseum. Macrinus and you locked eyes as you looked him up and down with a look of pure defiance on your face. He was smiling at you with that disturbing smile, you squinted at him. You were almost certain he had planned this on purpose. Geta put his arm around you and sat you down.

“Oh, it's going to be so exciting. He's going to kill him for sure this time. The tension is so high!”

“But this time a tiger is there too,” Caracalla said.

“So? The general has fought with animals before. He even cut the lion in two in front of our eyes. I'm sure he'll be able to beat the tiger too,” Geta winked at your worried face.

“Really?” You asked curiously, you heard that before but thought it was just a rumor.

Geta chuckled, “I wish you were here with us to witness that moment, sister. It was quite something.”

“I have absolutely no regrets brother.” You hissed. After all, you never would want to see Marcus before a lion.

Your eyes moved between the tiger and the gladiator. While you were praying to Jupiter, the iron door swung open accompanied by drums. You and your brothers sprang to your feet. Marcus was in his armour and looking at the gladiator as he walked into the arena with his sword in hand. The crowd roared and ranged his name out. He went over to the gladiator and they both saluted the Emperors. You saw Marcus's half-smile and you smiled back in return. It was always tough seeing him there. The more fearlessly he fought, the more you worried. It was like a special kind of torture for you.

The game began on Geta's and Caracalla's commands, and you realised that your breathing was already becoming irregular. The gladiator with a smile, approached the tiger, Marcus followed at a distance, as if he understood what the gladiator was up to.The tiger roared, the gladiator made the first move, lunging towards Marcus with his blood-soaked sword in hand. It was a failed attempt; Marcus stepped aside. However, he managed to get a little closer to the tiger. Marcus took a step back as the animal let out a roar, and the gladiator swung a spear at him but missed. When you saw Marcus so close to the tiger, it made you feel so nervous.

The gladiator stepped back as Marcus walked over to him, looking angry. Even from a distance, you could tell what he was thinking. His sword gave off a faint glow as he thrust it at him. The gladiator fought back with his own sword. As the clash of swords echoed around the arena, the tiger moved in to attack them both. Marcus resisted with all his might as the gladiator thrust his sword repeatedly, pushing Marcus towards the tiger. The gladiator let out a growl and tried again, quickly, strongly and determinedly.

But this time, Marcus was more angry than ever. He couldn't stop thinking about the bolt that had been shot at him. In that short time, he didn't worried about himself, but worried about you. In his perspective, the bolt he'd shot had stuck in his seat, right next to you. This attack on him and his wife in his presence will not go unpunished. He was going to get revenge for sure, even if it meant he'd die in the end. Marcus roared and lunged forward with his sword, which glinted in the sunlight, driving it into the gladiator's chest. The man stumbled back but recovered quickly. If he hadn't been wearing his iron armor, he would have been cut in half. They just stared at each other for a while and then Marcus made the first move. He wanted to end this game as soon as possible and make sure his opponent was dead. He brought his sword down with all his might, screaming at him, but the man blocked his attack with his sword. They were making kind of animalistic sounds now, harmonised with the sound of the tiger. During the struggle, the gladiator resisted the General's deadly pressure. Then the urge to pull out his knife and plunge it into Marcus' exposed leg with a decisive and powerful thrust. Although Marcus had been expecting this, he was unable to prevent the knife from cutting him and let out a cry of pain. You leaped to your feet and screamed, covering your mouth with your hands. Geta and Caracalla leaned forward with excitement. You watched him rush towards Marcus, who fell to the ground. Without a moment's hesitation, he grabbed the sand and threw it at the tiger, creating a cloud of dust that surrounded them. The crowd fell silent for a moment, and then you forgot to breathe as they shouted excitedly again. Geta jumped to his feet and Caracalla grunted. Geta, realising that your body was shaking, grabbed your shoulders and you both breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the dust cleared and you saw the sword Marcus had plunged into the tiger's throat.

Marcus barely threw himself backward as the tiger's fangs snapped open and closed right next to his beautiful face. His sword remained lodged in the animal's neck and soon the tiger's lifeless body collapsed to the ground. The gladiator lunged at Marcus with his sword while he was down. Marcus swiftly grabbed the spear from the ground and shielded himself. As the sword and spear clashed, a deafening sound reverberated through the arena. Marcus was determined not to let go of the spear he was holding and, despite the blood flowing from his leg, he tripped the gladiator's foot and knocked him to the ground. He immediately got up and tried to stand, leaning on the spear. The gladiator cursed as he got up and Marcus threw his pugio at him. If you had been right next to them in the arena, you would have heard the sharp sound of the pugio cutting the wind.

Caracalla returned Geta's grin with one of his own, and Geta laughed with joy. You soon came to know what had happened as you realised Marcus' pugio lodged in the gladiator's throat. As the gladiator tried to remove the dagger from his throat, Marcus advanced on him and kicked him in the stomach, knocking him down. The gladiator had only moments left, but Marcus was not to be appeased. He picked up a crossbow from ground, set a bolt in place, readying the crossbow to be shot – the very same crossbow the gladiator had used – aimed right above the gladiator's face. The crowd of the Colosseum was on its feet, eager to see what the General was about to do. Geta and Caracalla extended their arms forward, and Marcus turned his head in that direction.

The emperors turned their thumbs down, and Marcus's face hardened into a grim smile. He aimed the arrow directly at the gladiator's head again and pulled the trigger. The crowd roared and cheered again, their approval loud and clear. They all chanted Marcus's name over and over. But your eyes were fixed on the bright red liquid leaking from his calf down his leg, soaking his sandals. You turned to run to him, but Geta grasped your arm.

“Where are you going?”

“To my husband,” you said, pushing his arm away.

‘We shall head together," he said, turning to Caracalla. ‘Weren't you the one who wanted to see the tiger up close?’

Caracalla laughed. “Yes, I want one of his teeth,” he said firmly, holding up a finger to the guard next to him. The guard nodded.

“I want the claw,” Geta said, putting his arm around your neck as you both walked.

Macrinus approached Caracalla and spoke in a low voice, then excused himself and left in a hurry.  The guards accompanied you as you headed towards the iron gate situated just below the imperial tribune. As you made your way down the stairs, the announcer proclaimed the names of the emperors, and the crowd responded with enthusiastic cheers.

You slipped out of Geta's arm and rushed towards Marcus. Two soldiers were with him, tending to his wounds, and when they saw you, they stopped and bowed. You immediately put your hands out to look at his leg. It was deep, and you looked at Marcus with concern. But he smiled.

“General Acacius, our esteemed champion who has a proven track record of success.” Geta applauded him.

“The tiger almost made you lunch, Acacius,” Caracalla said, laughing.

Marcus forced a smile and walked over to the tiger, pulling his sword from its throat with a swift movement. He raised the sword as he approached the emperor, the air filled with the scent of rusty iron as a few drops of blood fell to the ground.

Your half-brothers tensed, and the guards moved to a defensive position to protect them. The crowd began to mutter. You looked at Marcus, curious about his intention. His face was expressionless, but his eyes spoke volumes.

“My emperors, I wonder if you are aware of the number of lives lost in the process of taking these animals out of their natural habitat and bringing them here to Rome and the Colosseum. I have to say that ten of my men have lost their lives in this endeavour. They were Roman citizens, and they served you loyally. Ten good men who cannot easily be replaced.”

You didn't expect this, and you pleased that Marcus brought this truth to their attention. However, they didn't seem to care.

“After all they died to serve Rome, didn't they?” Caracalla smiled arrogantly. Geta remained silent, his eyes roaming over the tiger's dust and blood-covered body.

“Yes, they did, to serve Rome. But that is not the kind of death they deserve, is it?”

“I think he heard about the rhino, brother.” Geta muttered.

"Ah, now I see. You're concerned that a few soldiers might be lost again."

"Rhino?" You looked at them in surprise.

“You don't mention the details to your wife, do you, General?” Geta laughed.

Marcus ignored him. “As I mentioned, bringing a tiger here is a big waste in terms of manpower and also costs a lot of the Rome's resources. I can't even think about a rhino.” He drove his sword into the ground with a sharp thrust. “Rome has so many subjects, she must feed them.” Marcus's tone was stern.

Caracalla took Marcus' sword in his hand and pointed it at him. You gasped and took a step forward.

“They can eat war, General.”

Geta smiled and seemed to agree with him. Caracalla raised his arms and pointed at the crowd.

“Just look at them. They're all watching with great interest. They're all pretty pleased with themselves. They're having as much fun as we are.”

“Yes, but what about the people living in the alleys?” You said suddenly and walked over to them.

Caracalla looked annoyed.

“Do you really think all citizens are coming here? There are lots of people in the alleyways who are going starving, and many of them are children. I had the chance to see them recently. The situation is pretty dire."

You looked at Marcus out of the corner of your eye and saw that he was looking at you.

"Enough! Don't you ever dare to collaborate with your husband and order me around!"

Geta looked at you with a warning gaze, then turned to his brother. "Never mind them, brother, I want to see the tiger," he said and strode off in that direction. Caracalla gave you both a menacing look before turned and stepped towards his brother.

Marcus approached you. "You didn't need to get involved."

"Is it wrong to defend my husband?"

He smiled, "No, of course not, my lady, but the longer you don't confront him, the better."

Then he touched his calf and groaned.

"Marcus, your wound needs to be treated now!" You put your arm around his waist and called out the soldiers.

Marcus insisted you pull your arm back, and they led their general inside. Before leaving, you turned to look at your brothers, who were excitedly observing the tiger and laughing as if they were playing with a new shiny toy. You rolled your eyes and sighed, then turned towards the iron gate and followed your husband inside.

—-

By the time you arrived at the villa, the sun had bathed Rome in its golden light, preparing to say goodbye. Marcus' cut on his calf was deep but not severe. It would take a week or two to heal. The slaves in the villa were taken aback to see Marcus returning, armoured and bruised, after an unexpected fight. As Marcus' body was covered in dust and dirt, you ordered Tullia to prepare the bath immediately upon entering the courtyard. You both ascended the stairs heading to your room, Marcus seemed to be struggling with each step. You helped him remove his armour and other items. Then he watched you with interest as you took off your palla and stola.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," you said, smiling at him.

"Let me," he said, reaching for the bracelets on your wrists.

This had become a daily routine: you helping Marcus take off or put on his armour while he helped you with your dress. He liked to undress you more, though.

Once he'd taken off your bracelets and necklace and put them on his desk, you wanted to take a look at his wound. You noticed that the bandage had turned red, so you quickly crouched down on the floor next to his leg and unwrapped it.

"We need to clean around the wound and wrap it tighter."

You were concerned, but he wasn't really. Your face was right next to his crotch, and your warm breath on his skin made things worse. Marcus's heartbeat quickened as you picked up a clean cloth and came back to him. You were so worried and focused on his wound that you didn't notice his eyes looking at you with desire.

You cleaned the wound meticulously, wrapped it. "You're stronger, so wrap it tightly." You said.

As you rose to your feet, Marcus stopped you by grasping your shoulder and lowering you back to your knees. You looked at him with confusion, and saw the familiar intensity in his dark brown eyes, and then saw the length of him growing under his burgundy tunic.

“But why-“

It was a silly question.

“Because of you,” he grinned. “Desires you,” he said, cupping you under the chin with his hand and bringing your face close to his crotch.

Your cheeks flushed red and you swallowed hard.

“I wish to feel your lips around me,” his thumb hovered over your lips. “And your sweet tongue,” he leaned his head down and kissed you on the lips. After breaking the kiss he looked into your eyes, “Will you give your husband what he desires?”

You were ready to do anything for him, but this was a new and strange thing for you. He's your husband. You should please him as he pleased you, you thought to yourself.

You nodded, your eyes meeting his. "If that's what you desire," you said, your voice smooth and confident, and grasped the hem of his tunic, lifting it. You were ready. You bit your lower lip as you looked at his glorious length. You had imagined him in your mouth before, but from this angle, he looked big. Marcus sensed your nervousness and took your hand, guiding it over him so that you could grasp his length.

You tentatively took his length in one hand and stroked it a few times, noting that it was already hard between your fingers and that a drop of precum was forming at the tip. You leaned in and gave him a little lick, just to see what it would feel like. It was warm, salty, musky. You let your tongue trail around the ridge of his crown. He exhaled in a low, raspy tone through his nose. You smiled, hearing his low moans gave you confidence. You lowered his throbbing length into your mouth, which was stretched open as far as it could go and still only just fit around him. Your tongue flicked over his more sensitive spot, while your hands worked over the base, kneading it gently. He shuddered in delight. Then, all of a sudden, he thrust deep into your throat.

“Mmmff!” Your voice was muffled, and he felt your gag reflex vibrating against the sensitive skin of his length.

"Look at me, my love,” he purred. You obey immediately. “You are enjoying that are you not?" He hissed cheekily through a struggled breath.

You hum in response and he jolts at the vibration of your mouth around his throbbing length. You continue to suck him and you look directly up into his eyes innocently for a moment which sends him right to the edge, the way you are looking up at him sweetly and seductively but so naughtily, your long eyelashes fluttering everytime the tip of him hits the back of your throat. The yellowish sun light streaming through the window lit up your hair, illuminating the strands of gold and copper that flowed over your shoulders. He grabbed your hair in his fists and yanked. But you liked it.

“So beautiful,” he pants.

He pulls back before thrusting forward again, balls-deep in your mouth, coming inside you, taking you by surprise. You swallow on instinct, surprised that it was really sweet. He touches your cheek, wiping away a few drops with his finger, and you look up at him shyly.

“Gods, you have enchanted me body and soul, I love you,” He purred and held your jaw in both his hands, pulling you off him and you frown a little at the loss of him inside your mouth.

But he did it to pull you into his arms in a hurry, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he kissed you passionately. Then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up, pushing the things off his desk and making you sit. You were too busy to care about the sound of the ink bottle falling to the floor and the papers flying around. You pressed your hands on his shoulders, pushed your head back and broke the kiss to catch your breath. Your eyes met and you saw the fire of desire in his eyes. You blinked and swallowed, reacting the same way every time. He grinned at you the same way, and it never seemed to get old.

“I must have you. Now.” The rough timbre of his voice sent shivers down your spine.

Her insistent and impatient fingers peeled the fabric of your tunic down your shoulders. The fabric gathered around your waist. His burning lips met yours again, his strong hands gripped your hips once more and pulled you to the edge of the desk. His hands caressed your knees down to your ankles and pulled the fabric of your dress up. In one swift movement he removed his tunic and threw it to the floor. When he turned to you, looking at you like a hungry wolf and your heart began to pound faster. Your mouths met again, and in an instant, you were lost in an all-consuming kiss. You push your hips forward against his crotch and suddenly aware of how hard and big he has again become in such a short time. You admire his heaving chest and all his muscles and his scars. You lean up to touch his chest and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. He slides inside you with a sudden movement, your walls clenching instinctively at the excitement of this new position. He moans into your mouth and breaks the kiss, grabs your hips with both hands, pulls out and thrusts deeper. You tilt your head back and try to breathe. He grabs your jaw gently and makes you face him. “I want you to watch me,” he whispered.

You had to learn to adapt to his behaviour, as it was a recurring habit of his, but you still felt that your shyness was holding you back. In contrast to you, he rarely closed his eyes, only when he was nearing the end. He usually prefers to watch you, he values eye contact greatly, as if he doesn't want to miss any moment of this precious moment with you. Probably because he was a very passionate man, filled with pure desire. “Marcus…” You moan his name as your walls clench around him so hard that he groans. Wave after wave you crash into him. Your arms are below his, but wrapped around him and your nails dig further into his back. You think you hurt him when he hisses but he smirks and all it does is make him chase after you with his own climax. At that moment, you feel he was spilling, filling every inch of you, licks and sucks even bite your chin meanwhile. He continues to thrust and the wet sound of him releasing more and more inside you is music to your ears as he rides out the remaining waves of your climax. Finally he slows down and stops, breathing heavily. Both of you enjoying the moment between, admiring how you're almost naked on his desk and he's just had you there. He pulled out slowly, smiled as he enjoys the sight of you. Then run his fingers through his hair, wiped the sweat from his brow and foreground, and took a moment to catch his breath.

“My lady.” He held out his hand, offering to help you to your feet. You slowly get up, thighs together, still holding on to him. He leaned in a little closer to tuck your messy hair behind your ears.

“I believe the best time for a bath is at this very moment.” He grinned. "Shall we?”

—-

In the Balneum, while you were rubbing Marcus's shoulders and cleansing him of the grime of the sandy, dusty surroundings of the arena, he was very quiet. He appeared to be lost in thought. Perhaps he was tired, you thought. The exertion in the arena, the struggle to survive, and dealing with your brothers must have been exhausting for him. However, the feeling of being deprived of his voice was becoming unbearable.

“You know, you could tell me,” you said softly, breaking Marcus's thoughts.

“Hmm?”

You rested your head on his shoulder from behind, your cheeks lightly touching his.

“It must have hurt you, losing those men of yours. You don't have to carry that burden on your shoulders alone. As your wife, you can share it with me.” You kissed his neck right on the jugular vein.

Marcus turned his head to you, his beard brushing your nose. “How fortunate man I am that the Gods have blessed me with you?”

He turned and pulled you towards him, slipping his arms under your shoulders and thighs as he did so, and pulled you into the water beside him. Your giggles were accompanied by the splashing sound of the hot water and echoed through the marble walls of the balneum.

Marcus kissed you gently on the lips, tenderly, adoringly. He pulled back and smiled, gathering your wet hair on one side of your neck. “My beautiful princess, you know I would do anything for you, don't you?”

You ran your fingers along the line of his lips as your head rested on the arm he had wrapped around you from behind.

“With all my heart, I know, General,” you murmured.

"I hope you will be reassured that from this moment on, I will do everything I can for you and for Rome." His gaze sharpened and his expression became serious, as if he was making a vow. Your fingers traced the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes.

"You sound like you might be about to do something soon?”

His eyes dropped to your wet hair. 'I only wanted to make sure you know that.'

You got a strange feeling all over, and his expression was unlike anything you'd ever seen. And it lasted all night. Even when you were lying in bed together, holding you in his arms and kissing you on the lips, it felt different.

You found it difficult to get to sleep because you were troubled by a peculiar sensation that persisted throughout the night. As soon as you opened your eyes in the morning, you felt a shiver, but it wasn't because your hair was still damp. The sensation you always felt first thing in the morning was missing, the comforting warmth of an arm around you and its owner. Your hand instinctively went to the other side of the bed, you felt the sheet with the back of your hand. It was cold. Usually, it was warm.

You sat up in bed and looked around. He was gone. His armour and other belongings were nowhere to be seen. You got out of bed, shivering, your chest hurting. This room hadn't felt so warm in his absence. However, there was no change in the air temperature, everything must be the same. But it wasn't. Nothing was the same without him. You found yourself wishing that this morning, which had begun inauspiciously, was a dream. However, when you were once again confronted with the feelings you had experienced the night before you decided to leave the room. As if running away.

As you descended the stairs, you saw Norell walking in the courtyard with a tray. You called out to her, and she turned to face you.

“Where is the General?”

Tullia came up to her and mumbled something. You hurried down the stairs and walked over to them. Why didn't they answer you?

“Where's my husband?” Your voice was louder than you wanted it to be.

Tullia came closer to you, her eyes uncertain.

"My lady, the general left early this morning."

"Where did he go?"

"I don't know, but he's probably off to the barracks."

"He's never left this early before. Surely he said something?"

Tullia opened her eyes wide. "How dare I ask him questions, my lady?"

You frowned. You felt like she was hiding something from you, but you couldn't be sure what. After she excused herself and left, Decima saw you and walked towards you.

“My lady,' she greeted you. "Your eyes are a little sunken. Are you alright?"

“I don't- I don't feel well,” your voice trembled.

"Please, take a seat." She held your hand and kindly guided you to sit on the armchair.

You sat and sighed deeply. Decima sat next to you. From the look in her eyes, you sensed that she was aware of something and wanted to share it with you.

"Sir Octavius arrived at dawn. Whatever he said to the general, he quickly dressed and left. I thought you knew."

You placed your head in your hands and groaned at the headache you felt.

"I must have fallen into a deep sleep around that time because I couldn't sleep properly at night."

“I’ll bring your breakfast," she said and rose to her feet, but you reached for her arm and prevented her from doing so.

"That is unnecessary. I would prefer to rest in the room until the General arrives.”

However, he did not return that evening or the following day.

The minutes seemed to drag on, each one a painful torture. When the waiting became unbearable, you decided to leave the villa one evening. You needed to find him and see why he wasn’t coming back.  As you had promised him, you wrapped the small knife Marcus gave you around your ankle, put on your black cloak and left the room. Decima spotted you and ran to you, reaching out to take your hand on the stairs, but you pushed her hand away.

Tullia and Norell and even the other slaves ran to you, all of them concerned.

"Domina! Please don't leave at this hour." Tullia pleaded.

“Master will be back eventually, please be patient." Norell reached out to take your other hand but you pulled it back. The others also begged, making you even angrier.

You raised your hand. “Enough!" Your voice, loud, echoed through the courtyard. Mau, startled from her slumber, leapt up, jumped down and ran behind the fountain. They were taken aback and fell silent. Their kind and soft Domina was gone. You turned your head, strode purposefully out of the courtyard. As soon as you came out, saw Cato and Octavius there which surprised you.

“My lady,” Cato ran to you.

You looked at Octavius.

“Where is my husband?”

“My lady, I cannot allow you to leave, please go back inside.”

You approached him frowning. “I asked you a question, Sir Octavius!” It was the first time you had raised your voice to Octavius, who had always been kind to you. He startled and tensed a little.

Tullia, Norell and Decima were watching you anxiously from the doorway of the courtyard.

Octavius bowed his head. "The General has a mission to complete, he has ordered me to stay here and protect you until he returns. You must understand, your safety is paramount."

You opened your eyes wide. "Mission? I want to know exactly what you mean by that."

Octavius' expression was hesitant. You approached him. “Sir, please, I need to know where he is."

He frowned, didn't answer.

"Or is it about my brothers?"

He remained silent, still no answer. You were getting more and more angry.

“If it's an important mission, why are you here? Aren't you his right-hand man?”

“I am, but this is his direct order.”

“Tell me at once what the General's mission is.”

After some thought, he looked at you.

“The General said. If he fails…" Octavius could hardly speak. You swallowed, sensing you wouldn't be pleased with what you were about to hear. “He said that I must protect you with my life, no matter what.”

Your throat got dry. “Octavius, tell me where he is.” Your voice was shaking.

You imagine he was as displeased with the order he had been given, and as worried as you were. His expression became more resolute. “Sir Macrinus. We have been considering various strategies for some time now to ensure a successful outcome. Two days ago, when we became aware that he was departing for Libya, we devised a plan to launch an attack just outside the capital this morning. The general was keen to proceed with minimal disruption and with a few man.”

“Macrinus is no fool. He could very well be outnumbered.”

“That's a possibility,” Octavius stated.

The wave of anxiety had taken over your whole body, Marcus' words echoed in your head. 'For you and for Rome.'

“Cato! Get my horse here at once!” You ordered. He looked surprised at first but nodded and trotted off towards the stables when you looked at him angrily.

“My Lady, but-“

You turned to Octavius. “Lead the way.”

----

Chapter 10: The Conflict

 

“non est vivere sed valere vita est.”

Life is more than just being alive.

 

The distance from the city to the port of Ostia was not great, but the ride was rather lengthy and tiring, even for a seasoned rider. Octavius was ever watchful, noting when you were faltering and offering you a respite. You declined, though your body was crying out for it. Your sole concern was to reach Marcus before it was too late. Fortunately, a little later, Octavius noticed a few tracks on the ground as you passed through the dark woods, slowed down and dismounted his horse. He crouched down and examined the tracks then looked at you.

"We should continue on foot from this point onwards, my lady."

"Are we close?" You looked around but there was nothing in sight.

"Indeed. We must proceed with caution and avoid attracting attention. We need to leave the horses here," he said, holding the reins of his horse as he approached you and extended his hand.

"Thank you sir but I can dismount myself." You said and got down from your horse, despite the soreness in your legs. It felt nice to be able to step on the ground again. Unio let out a soft neigh, as if she had read your thoughts. You stroked her face and, grasping her reins, walked in the direction Octavius had said. It was quite some distance from the road and not very visible. In this darkness of the night, it would have been difficult to see anything if not for the moonlight anyway.

Once you had tied your horses, you set off through the forest, guided by Octavius. You eventually reached a hill. It appeared to be a rather tranquil. The only sound that could be heard was the hooting of an owl.

“My lady, if I might ask you to consider promising me something,” Octavius said.

You raised your eyebrows. “What is it?”

"If we don't make it in time, you'll come back to the villa with me."

“No need to worry about that now, if we make it in time, Sir Octavius.”

He sighed. “I'm pretty sure Acacius will kill me this time,” he muttered.

You looked at him with a hint of guilt. “I'm sorry, but you're doing this for him, for your General, your friend.”

"I hope he's already taken care of him and I hope we've come here for nothing. I'd be really happy to be reprimanded and even punched by him."

You laughed nervously. "Would it offend you if I said I hope so too, sir?"

He grinned. "Never, my lady."

"You are a good friend, Octavius.

"Always at your service.”

You were startled by the sound of a horse neighing and immediately sought cover behind nearby bushes. You observed that three horses were tethered in the forest.

"That's Dromos," you realized.

"We must be close," Octavius said quietly.

You soon heard the sound of swords clashing in the distance and moved at a slow pace towards it. When you saw Marcus from behind, you were on the verge of running to him without thinking, but Octavius grabbed you by the shoulder and pulled you back.

“We can't let them see us,” he said, warning you.

He led you to move out of sight to the left, where you hid in the bushes. You observed the situation at a distance and noticed that Marcus cut a soldier with his sword made him collapsed to the ground. However he was alone, probably having lost his men. Macrinus, on the other hand, was standing just behind the five soldiers.

“General, you must cease this nonsense. You'll get yourself killed.”

“Not before I take your life first!”

Your heart was racing with worry. Even for Marcus, who was one against five men, survival was a near impossibility. Octavius stepped in front of you as you stood up.

“My lady, please wait here, I will back him up," he whispered, his hand moving to his sword.

Just then, you heard horse hooves and three horsemen appeared, coming towards them from ahead. Macrinus let out a laugh. Octavius swallowed and looked at his General, unsure of what to do.

At the time you thought you had to stop it somehow, knowing the fact that Marcus won't stand much of a chance. It seemed that he had no intention of retreating though. Furthermore, he assumed a defensive stance, grasping his sword more firmly.

You reached out to grasp Octavius' arm as he began to step towards them.

"I must stop them."

Octavius opened his eyes wide. "But how, my lady? No, return to your horse now, and-"

"No, please hear me out. I don't believe Macrinus will harm me. And Marcus won't let him go no matter what. Besides even with your help, you can't beat all of them. This is the only way.”

Octavius seemed unsure. "What makes you so sure that he won't harm you?’

“Think about it. He has known me for quite some time.” You observed them from behind the bushes. It seemed as though Marcus was contemplating an attack. “If he wanted to kill me he would have done it when we were alone, but instead he made me appear before the council, why do you think?”

"To help you regain your title and gain formal recognition."

'Well, it wasn't out of the goodness of his heart, of course. I believe that when he ascends to the throne, he thinks it would be beneficial for him to have a strong consort that he values in his council." Your voice cracked.

Octavius clenched his jaw. “There is no stronger consort than a princess,” he muttered. Then opened his eyes wide. “If he kills the General-“ he swallowed, words caught in his throat.

“I won't let that happen. So step aside and let me stop them.”

Octavius nodded in despair. "If things don't go well, I'll be here to ensure your safety and that of the General. I'll do my utmost until my last breath.”

You nodded and took a deep breath, moving slowly through the bushes. Just then all five men and the others drew their swords making a schwing sound echoing through the woods.

"General, this is my final warning. It is not possible for you to survive this." Macrinus called out to him.

Marcus was aware that, regardless of his considerable strength as a warrior, it would be extremely challenging to fight against such a large number of soldiers. But retreat was not an option for him. He had to take Macrinus down and make sure his head was severed from his body, no matter what. If he could do that, he didn't mind facing his own death in the end. He was only afraid of being separated from you; he had no other fears at all. He was truly grateful for all those beautiful moments he shared with you. Getting ready for a confrontation, he pointed his sword at the soldier charging towards him. Just as he was about to attack, you suddenly jumped in between them, yelling.

“Stop!"

With determination, you swiftly drew your knife from its sheath on your ankle, holding it firmly in one hand as you prepared to execute your seemingly absurd plan. Marcus opened his eyes wide, looked at you in surprise, and then glanced around.

"Aurelia! What the hell are you doing here?" He yelled.

"My lady!" Macrinus was shocked too. Keeping his distance, moving towards you behind the soldiers, equally bewildered.

"End this, please." You said without looking at either of them.

"Go back, now!" Marcus shouted, knowing full well who had brought you here.

"I'm not going anywhere without you," you protested.

"I have to finish what I started. Now, go!” He hissed.

He brandished his sword at Macrinus's men once more, determined not to back down. You, however, had no intention of letting him get himself killed. With no other option, you put your knife against your neck. Marcus looked back at you, astounded. As your eyes met, Macrinus, as you had suspected, grew concerned and approached you.

“That knife looks pretty dangerous, my lady. I think you should give that to me.”

“Stay back!” You shouted at him, “Don't come any closer!”

“Are you mad? What do you think you're doing?” Marcus shouted. He was boiling with anger.

"I'm a medicus, aren't I? I know exactly how and where I should cut to kill myself without suffering."

Marcus clenched his jaw.

"Do you wish to kill yourself, my lady?" Macrinus asked.

You looked at him, feeling the sharp surface of the knife, it made you tense but forced yourself to stay calm. Also, it seemed like a good opportunity to see if your theory was correct.

“You don't want me to die, do you, Sir Macrinus?’

He raised his hand as if he wants to stop you. “No, of course not, my lady. Please put that knife down.” He looked at Marcus. “Acacius, I think we're done here.”

Marcus looked at him with a piercing gaze. “This isn't over, Macrinus.”

He laughed, then his gaze hardened as he looked at him. “You'd better be on the right side when the inevitable happens, General, if you care enough for your wife.”

“If not today, rest assured that I will end you.” Marcus growled.

“It would only be to your detriment,” he said, his eyes shifting to you before he nodded and turned. He tapped one of his soldiers on the shoulder. “Sheath your swords! We're heading for the harbour!” He jumped on his horse and the soldiers followed him behind.

Marcus turned his head towards you and came up to you angrily, snatching your knife and pulling so hard that you stumbled towards him.

"Why did you come here? How dare you hold a knife to your throat?" he barked. His voice was loud enough to make you startle. "I didn't give you this to cut yourself! Don't you value your own life at all?"

"You're the one who doesn't value your own life!" You shouted back. Marcus frowned. "What's the matter with you? Do you think it's worth risking your life trying to kill him? You know how it feels when you lose someone you care about. How can you be so selfish? Have you ever thought about what I'd do if you died? You're so mean.”

As your tears rolled down your cheeks, Marcus' expression softened. He approached you, took your face in his hands and gently wiped your tears away with his thumbs. His dark brown eyes spoke volumes, but he was so angry that he remained silent. After staring at you for a while, he pulled his hands back and looked towards the bushes.

"Octavius! I know you're in there, get over here now!"

The bushes rustled and crunched loudly. As soon as Octavius set foot on the dirt road, you noticed the tension on his face despite the darkness. He came up to you and bowed his head to the General. Marcus gripped him by his leather armour in his fist and pulled roughly.

“Since when have you begun to disobey my orders?”

“Forgive me, sir. I was wrong.”

“I forced him, Marcus,” you interjected.

He ignored you. “I told you to protect her, you shouldn't have cared about what she said to you. You should have stopped her, Even if it meant locking her up or tying her up, it would have been better to do so.”

You laughed hysterically. “You can't be serious.”

He turned towards you. “I'm quite serious, my lady. Instead of risking your life in such a ridiculous way, you would be safe."

You rolled your eyes. "I wasn't really intending to kill myself. I just wanted to be sure of Macrinus' intentions, but you were so determined to sacrifice yourself without listening to me, so I didn't know what else I could do.”

“We'll talk about it when we return home,” he said, pointing his index finger at you. Then he turned and approached his soldiers lying lifeless on the ground, sorrow evident in his eyes. “Octavius, make sure the funeral rituals for our brothers shall be arranged.”

“Yes, sir.” He approached him, kneeling next to a soldier and closing his eyelids.

From a distance, you watched them and found yourself blaming yourself. Perhaps if you had arrived sooner, you could have played a role in saving their lives. Or, if you had come later, Marcus might have faced a similar fate. You shook your head and tried to put these thoughts out of your mind.

While Octavius tended to the deceased soldiers, you and Marcus returned to the villa on horseback. It was just after midnight. The vast majority of the villa's residents were awake and gathered in the courtyard, awaiting your return. Marcus remained silent all the way back, likely still enraged at you. You were no different. It was torture to think that you had nearly lost him because of Macrinus.

Cato respectfully took hold of the reins of Marcus' horse as he jumped down. You dismounted too, noting that your legs felt a little sore from the long ride. As soon as you landed on the ground, you felt a momentary loss of balance, but Marcus' arm caught you. You smiled at him. Even though he was angry; he was still there to protect you. However, he did not smile back. Instead, he took hold of your wrist and pulled you towards the courtyard.  Furthermore, he was not as gentle as he usually was. He did not care when you moaned from the pain in your wrist. He took a quick glance at everyone in the courtyard who greeted you and pulled you towards the stairs. When you turned your head, you saw their faces. They seemed grateful for the safe return of their Dominus, but perhaps a little worried about you. At least, that was your interpretation, because you knew you were in trouble.

He shut the door behind you. You were glad when he released your wrist, as it started to throb. You knew it would be bruised by the next day. Marcus put his holster away while you rubbed your wrist with your other hand. You went over to help him remove his armour. He was aware of your intentions and leaned against the edge of his desk with his arms folded. There was blood splattered on the Medusa's face and on the leather strips of the armour. You gave Marcus a direct look as you undid the armour's threads. He was still frowning and staring ahead. He still seemed to refuse to look at you as you undid the other side.

“You know you're not the only one who's angry, right?”

He then turned his head to you as your fingers unraveled the threads a little harder.

“You can't be any angrier than I am.” He took off his armour.

You crossed your arms, “Why not, I can be just as angry as you.” You lifted your head and looked away stubbornly.

Marcus was trying not to laugh at your behaviour. He pressed his lips together and cleared his throat.

“No way, princess. I'm more than angry; I'm fuming!”

You looked at him as he walked towards you. His gaze certainly showed his anger, but when you noticed the hint of mischief at the corner of his lips, you decided to continue playing this game. He was removing his armbands.

“Fuming? Hah! I'm furious!” you shouted sarcastically.

He threw the armbands on the floor and came right in front of you. This time his gaze was intense.

“I'm filled with wrath!” he growled.

You involuntarily took a step backwards. “So?” 

He appeared to be relishing the opportunity to engage in this somewhat heated, sexual tension-filled game, as he took a few steps towards you.

Suddenly, your back slammed on the wall. He lifted your wrists above your head and leaned in.

"I think you deserve some punishment," he murmured, his breath caressing your ears and causing your body to shudder. He pressed his pelvis against yours and his lips found the vein on your neck. He sucked and nibbled at it, sending a tingling sensation throughout your body. His lips trailed from your neck to your chin, and you found yourself longing to touch them.

You took a sharp intake of breath. He teased your lips with a slight touch before retreating. You leaned forward, aiming for his lips, but you failed. He smirked. His right hand roughly removes your cloak and undresses you, while his left hand keeps a strong hold on your wrists. Your dress fell to the floor, pooling around your feet as the hem caught on the scabbard tied around your ankle. Marcus bent down, untied it and pulled it off. Suddenly, he grabbed you by the legs and threw you over his shoulder. Before you could blink, you were on the bed, gasping for breath. Your stomach tightened with excitement when he emerged from above you.

But he still hadn't taken off his tunic, you thought angrily.

It seemed a bit unfair that you were the only one who was naked. He pushed you back gently when you reached towards him. "Not yet, princess." His hot breath hit your breasts, making you squirm. You were infuriated when he roughly spread your legs with the palm of his hand. Was he going to enter you before your lips met and traveled over each other's body, before his hands caressed your breasts? That's what he called punishment?

You bit your lower lip as you felt his strong fingers on your most sensitive spot. But his fingers lingered, moving in circles. You wanted to sit up and look at him, but he pushed you backwards with his other hand. After teasing your clit with his fingers, which made you clench the sheet, he grabbed your hips and buried his head between your legs. He deliberately blows into your folds, making pleasure run through your body. His erection sears your skin, making you aware that he's getting pleasure from driving you mad with his mouth. He flips his tongue and sucks your most sensitive area hungrily, relentlessly. You moan loudly and your response encourages him to increase the pressure. He is an expert in the art of pleasure giving and he uses you as skilfully as he uses his sword.

“Marcus,” you groaned, you're almost sure that your voice echoing in every corner of the villa. Feeling almost at the edge. You feel him smiling as he moves his lips and touches your body with his warm tongue and fingers. But he retreats suddenly. You moan in protest. You open your eyes to look at him. Panting. You feel a surge of disappointment and a distinct sense of being used. But he laughs cruelly. He wipes your sweet liquid from his lips with his thumb, then licks and sucks the tip, smiling crookedly all the while.

You frown. “So that was your punishment?”

“I was actually going to do more, but…" He quickly takes off his tunic, throwing it on the floor. “I missed you so much and I want you so badly right now.”

“Take me then.” You smiled naughtily.

He smiles back and grabs your arm, using his soldier strength, he turns you and bends you over until you're crouching on your knees. One of his hands is still holding yours behind your back, and the other keeps your torso down so your breasts press against the silk sheet. You wriggle, and his grip tightens. Gods! You haven’t ever felt so helpless. Used like a toy. He keeps teasing your lower wet lips with the tip of his erection. His voice is husky, sensual. “How will I take you, my sweet princess?”

He digs his fingers deep into the cheeks of your butt. This position feels raw, animalistic but pleasantly erotic at the same time. “Shall I take you this way?” he asks without stopping his hungry attack. His warm breath, and beard tickles your ear, and waves of hot pleasure wash through your skin. As though your body is a toy, he forcibly turns you again, and now your under him once more. One hand holds you immobile by your throat. The other grabs your hip. "Or this way?" he says as his now-soaked tip presses against your entrance, bringing shudders and ecstasy into your squirming body. You moan loudly, pressing his lips to yours roughly, silencing you.

He’s taken full control of your body and won’t share it with you. He’ll take you in any way he wants. And, yet, because your body is yearning for him, you can’t bring yourself to ask him to stop, this was a huge turn-on for you. "Marcus," you whimpered. "Please, I want to be yours. Take me now. Pretty, pretty, please." You begged.

He smiled and let you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to you. He was as impatient as you were, but he was determined to keep this fun and heated game going. He was having fun rubbing his lips against yours and making you whimper a little more. For him, there was no comparison to watching you squirm to be his.  But he couldn't wait to be inside you, and when he finally pushed his length inside your walls, entered you roughly, your body trembled with pleasure. You felt euphoric when his mouth finally met yours. You enjoy him kissing you with incredible hunger until you forget to breathe. With each rough thrust, you instinctively dug your fingers into his back which made him lose it, deepening the kiss, turning it into a carnal mating of mouths. He bit your lower lip, and you moaned with both pain and pleasure. He released his bruising grip, the hard press of his lips, and rolled onto his back, taking you with him. He seems a little worried, but when you giggle at him, he grins and buries his head between your breasts, licking your sternum all the way to your neck. He grabs you by the waist and spins you around, your back hitting his chest. He kisses your shoulder, nuzzles his nose into your hair and finds your ear.

“I want to take you this way.” His hot breath hits your ear as he caresses his way up your neck, making you shiver.

He practically has to arrange your limbs himself as he folds you forward onto your hands and knees and settles behind you. He wrapped his arms around your torso, entering you from behind, and you moved together, as one, never once breaking your intimate connection. When he increased his rhythm, one hand gathered your hair on one side of your neck. His lips traveled from your neck to your exposed shoulder, while his other hand wrapped around your waist. This position made you feel his length much deeper inside you. Your mewl-like moans were added to his and harmonized with the slick sound of each thrust. it sounded like your own special music. Marcus' hands slid under your arms to your breasts and cupped them. You threw your head back in pleasure, bumping into his shoulder as he kissed your neck repeatedly. With his forehead and brows covered in sweat, he sensed that the end was near and his hands gripped your hips tightly, deepening his thrusts and reaching his climax at the same time as you. You instinctively leaned forward as he filled you with his warm liquid, but he caught you and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He groaned loudly and his hot breath washed over your ear. You felt his nose on your cheekbone. His hand cupped your chin, turned your face to his and kissed you passionately. As you wrapped your arms around his neck and turned towards him, he pulled out of you and pressed his forehead to yours, both of you panting. Your eyes were closed, savouring the moment as the sweat mingled on your forehead and ran down your cheeks. You opened your eyes as Marcus placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.

He brushed back a few strands of hair that stuck to your forehead, also caught in your eyelashes. You looked into his eyes and looked at him.You spoke with your eyes for a while, then he frowned. He took your face in his hands, his expression serious. You were unaware that you were crying until his thumbs wiped away your tears from your cheeks. He bent his head and kissed your eyelids and long eyelashes. You nuzzled your head into his neck and he wrapped his arms around you. You couldn't stop your sobs and tears. All the emotions you felt seemed to take over your body at once.

His fingers ran through your hair. “My love. From now on, I won't risk my life easily,” he said in a velvety tone. “So please don't cry.”

You nodded and sniffled. Marcus kissed the top of your head and pulled you down with him onto the bed. You snuggled into his chest, realising how much you missed him even though it had only been a few days. It was late at night and the only sound in the room was the two of you breathing.

“I guess this has become a habit for me,” Marcus broke the silence.

You raised your head and looked at him. You ran your eyes over the sparse beard on his chin, greying in places.

"I've always lived my life like this, always fighting, battling, killing. It's the easiest thing I can do." His fingers traced the curve of your spine. “I was never afraid, not of death, not of losing. I just fought. It was easy because I had nothing to lose. That night, when I was poisoned, I knew it was time for my eternal rest. I felt relieved, not afraid, but ready.”

You swallowed, thinking about that night for the first time in a long while.

"But then I saw those eyes and they gave me the purpose to carry on living." He tenderly touched the back of his hand to your cheek. You raised your head to meet his gaze. He was already looking at you.

“Now I have a responsibility,” he smiled. “My weakness.” He bent his head and stroked yours with his nose. “A beautiful reason for me to die for.” His lips ran through your forehead. "Dying for Rome is easy, simple. But for you, my lady, it's hard, painful. The thought of never seeing you again.” He exhaled deeply. “It puts me in agony.” He frowned. “Just when I saw you put that knife to your neck so recklessly. It was painful too. I'm still angry with you for that.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him. "I feel the same way, Marcus. I can't even begin to tell you how much it hurts me to think of losing you. I couldn't sit idly by while you risk your life. I'd never be able to bear to lose you." Even the thought of it made you shudder.

He sighed and turned his head towards you. “You won't lose me. There is nothing more important to me in this life than you. How whole and at peace I feel when I hold you in my arms when I'm deep inside you. The reason is you, princess. The reason I wake up every morning with a smile. The reason I am eager to return home from my duties. To you. So I don't want you to do one more thing to put yourself in danger.”

You kissed his chest. You wanted to say more but his words were so beautiful, you couldn't object. You felt tired from the horse journey so you snuggled closer to him. Before he wrapped his arm around you, he covered you both with the sheet. You were finally about to get the peaceful sleep you had been longing for for days. In his arms.

——

When you woke up in the morning, the sun was high in the sky, but it wasn't its light that woke you up. Instead, it was the gentle caresses you felt on your legs that roused you. Your hand moved to the side of the bed to feel the sheets, but Marcus wasn't there. You opened your eyes when the caresses on your legs were replaced by nibbles. Was he under the sheet? Your eyes opened wide when you saw Marcus's face, smirking at you from between your legs.

“Morning, princess.” His boyish and mischievous grin spread all over his face. “May I?”

“What are you- Ow!” You gasped when you felt his tongue on your most sensitive area.

Expertly, he was licking, biting, sucking, giving you incredible pleasure this early in the morning. You had now discovered all the men inside his enormous body. The honourable man, the dominant leader, the fearless warrior, the poet, the loving husband, the romantic gentleman, the expert lover full of lust, the child inside the fourth year old man.

You smiled when the lustful expert lover has taken you to the sky full of pleasure. It's empowering to know that it was you who drove a powerful, dominating, strong beast like him mad. As you descend from the sky, he settles on top of you, placing kisses from your legs to your stomach and then to your breasts and chin. He kisses your eyelids and asks you to look at him without telling you. Now that you know him so well, you immediately obey. Since you are already so ready for him, he enters you easily. As he wraps his arms around you, you throw your hands back and clench the sheets. Your body curves backwards and he speeds up his thrusts. You try to suppress the urge to close your eyes tightly. He realises and finds a new solution for you and presses his forehead to yours. You smile when your eyelashes touch. But then, when he gets closer to the edge, also gets deeper into you and increases the pace tremendously, he buries his head in your collarbone. You wrap your arms tightly around his neck. And once again, you ascend to the sky. This time, you feel immense pleasure. You feel a few bites on your neck. You look at him, your eyes alight with wonder, and marvel at the beauty of the man that is coming undone inside you. He tightens his arms around your waist and moans as he reaches his climax. His body collapses on top of yours, his arms loosening. It's so beautiful to watch him as you feel his heated breath on your neck. To feel his heart thudding violently against his chest, the way your bodies connected. You both savour the glorious, euphoric feeling of being in love. Your breathing returns to ease, you feel him soften inside you and he lies down beside you, pulling you into his arms.

"Do you have any duties today?" you ask as you run your fingers over his chest.

"Yes, first I have to meet with my legates, then I have to go to the barracks. I believe there may be someone spying for Macrinus. It would be beneficial to find him before he returns to Rome."

"Didn't you say you'd already found him?"

"No, he was Julia's." His voice was sharp. You were sure he killed him. It must have been very hard for him though, a soldier from his own troops spying for someone else. After a moment or two of silence, you asked him to change the subject.

"Am I forgiven?"

“I’m thinking about it.”

You sat up in bed, intending to study his face, but suddenly a feeling of nausea hit you and you fell back. Your neck hit his shoulder.

“Oh…" You put your hand to your head. Your vision was blurred, closed your eyelids.

“My love. Are you alright?" There was concern in his voice. He sat up in bed and wrapped his arms around you.

You opened your eyes and smiled at his worried face. “My head is spinning a bit.”

“It's almost noon. You've been sleeping for a while.”

“Noon?" You hadn't realised it had been that long. You were usually up early, woken by the rooster. Perhaps it was because you hadn't slept well for a few days without him.  Maybe it was because you hadn't slept properly in his absence for days. "But did you wake up first and await me?"

"That is correct, but then I became somewhat impatient if you remember." he winked.

You smiled shyly. He graciously kissed the top of your head. “My lady, I believe that you may be hungry, are you not?"

You yawned and nodded. “Indeed I am. I must admit that I am rather famished after my longest horse journey.”

He laughed. "I'll tell them to prepare a lunch for us. I must then take my leave.”

——

Once Marcus had departed from the villa, you wanted to check on the girls. Norell and Decima were sitting together in the courtyard, weaving rugs. You stood nearby, observing them. Decima was from Egypt, so she was used to weaving and her hands were moving with practiced ease. She mentioned about it before.

"My lady, would you care to try?" Decima asked.

"It looks very intricate," you hesitated.

Tullia came into the courtyard with a laundry basket. She made a slight gesture of respect with her head as she caught sight of you. You observed that she was walking with a slight limp. She seemed to be in pain.

“Tullia, your leg seems to be bothering you."

She put the basket down and let out a sigh. “My knees, my lady. I guess it's because I'm too old now.”

"Let me take a look," you said gently, walking over to her. Despite her objection, you helped her sit down in the chair and examined her knees. Given her late fifties age, you diagnosed her with rheumatism, given her late fifties age.

"I think I know what will be good for you," you said, walking to your private clinic-like room. Tullia's eyes widened when you returned with the hemlock jar.

“Isn't this herb poisonous?”

You smiled. “Yes, and potentially deadly.” You teased her.

“Gods, my lady, please forgive me if I've made a mistake.” She placed her hand on her chest.

“Please calm yourself, Tullia. It is indeed a very poisonous plant. However, it is also very useful to the body. I'll make you a tea of this, you drink it every other day, understood?’"

She was still looking at you weirdly.

You laughed. “You do trust me, do you not?”

She nodded.  "I am grateful to you, my lady, for ensuring General's safe return to his home. So, I have great trust in you.”

You smiled. ”I imagine you must have known him for quite some time.”

"That's correct. I've been fortunate to reside in this villa for as long as I can remember."

"I see. Then you knew Marcus's father, the Dominus'?"

"Yes, my lady.”

She had been with him for many years, residing in this villa. She had likely witnessed his childhood, his youth, his unhappy marriage, everything. You felt a bit envious of her, as though she knew more about him than you know about Marcus. But you were also grateful for her loyalty over the years.

“It's the first time I've seen him alive,” she said, surprising you.

“How do you mean?” You demanded.

"Dominus. He would prefer us not to call him that, not after his father. I must say that after you came into his life, I felt like I didn't know him.  He was rather solemn, and it was rare to see him smile. But now I see that he's really alive. It's so pleasant to see him like that. I'm really grateful for that, my lady."

You put a hand on her shoulder. "And I'm grateful that you have cared for him over the years, that you have served him, that you have looked after him."

She put her hand on yours. "It is my duty," she said, smiling softly.

“Domina!"

You both turned your heads to the slave who came running towards you.

“My Lady, the Imperial guard has arrived.”

You inhaled. "Am I being summoned?"

The slave looked at you with hesitation and bowed his head, which meant affirmative. Decima came to stand beside you. "Shall I come with you?"

You grasped her hand. “Yes, please.”

—-

It was your brother Geta who summoned you this time. You weren't particularly curious, but you felt it would be a good idea to pay him a visit. You couldn't help but feel a little concerned about him, though. Besides, it seemed like a good idea to stop by the poorhouse on the way back. You were keen to find out how the children are doing, since you missed them. By the time the imperial carriage arrived at Palatine Hill, it was already late afternoon. You came to realise that you didn't miss wearing stola much since it was difficult to get used to the feeling of being tangled in their feet. And the knife Marcus gave you wasn't helping at all. It seemed a little odd to wear it on your ankle when you couldn't actually use it properly, but you had promised him after all. Geta was waiting for you in the great courtyard. When he realised you, he came running to you with a wide smile, his arms outstretched.

"Aurelia, you've been missed, sister!" He embraced you. You flinch every time he does this, but he deliberately ignores it.

"I'm really curious to know why you called me here."

"Come, let's talk while we drink. Shall we?" He led you to an armchair in the courtyard. You sat down next to him, and adjusted your dress to cover the knife on your leg.

"Wine," Geta ordered the slaves.

One of the slaves poured you a glass of wine. Decima was standing right next to you.

"So, you ordered the guards to send food to the Poorhouse," Geta said, taking a sip of his wine.

You brought your glass to your lips, but the smell was unappealing, so you put it on the table, and pushed it forward with your fingers.

"I did. Or, are you angry with me for this?"

Geta laughed. "I can't possibly be angry with you. However, I believe this is an unnecessary expense."

You glared at him. "Surely it's not as unnecessary as a tiger?"

"At least the tiger entertains us, sister. What is so interesting about those people? Nothing. I have not yet informed Caracalla of this, so you'd better end it before he becomes aware of it."

You leaned towards him. "You are not fully aware of the gravity of the situation, so you speak with undue levity. Would you be willing to abandon those children to their fate?”

He exhaled loudly. He pretended not to care, but he was thinking.

"If you'd like, I can show you. Caracalla doesn't need to know. Trust me, it's a lot cheaper than what you spend on other unnecessary things.”

"No way I'm going there!"

You sighed and stood up. "You do as you wish," you said, with a hint of sarcasm. "I was just considering paying a visit there." You glanced at him, took a step forward. He stood up too, grabbing your arm from behind.

"You've only just arrived, stay a little longer." He sounded like he was begging. He was looking at you in a strange way, you averted your gaze.

"I'm a married woman, I have responsibilities. And those children are one of them." You looked at him again. "As Emperor, you have responsibilities as well. They are your people too. You could come with me and see for yourself. If you are not convinced, I will not bring it up again. I promise."

He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, you win. I'm coming with you.”

He stepped towards to the entrance, but you stopped him by tugging on his arm. "Perhaps you might like to consider changing your attire?" You asked, running your eyes over his fancy toga.

"What's in my attire?" He looked down at himself.

"Well. Your bronze crown, your gold embroidered toga, your gold bracelets, necklaces, and rings, need I say more?’

"Or do you want me to dress like a commoner? Never!" He frowned.

You rolled your eyes at him. It was futile to try to persuade this stubborn boy. So, you gave up. "Very well, as you wish, Your Majesty.”

His frown vanished and he smirked.

As you made your way across the courtyard towards the gate, you became aware of a few murmurs and turned your head in that direction. A group of people were heading into the great hall. Their attire differed from that of the members of the Senate.

"I had completely forgotten they were coming today," he said.

'Is there an official meeting with Caracalla?'

“Our relatives,” he murmured.

You regarded him with a look of surprise. “You were correct in your assumption,” he said, observing them from a distance. “The execution of Gaius has caused some distress within the dynasty in Leptis Magna. They have come here to speak with the emperor.”

"And what about you? You are the emperor as well."

He shrugged slightly. "It doesn't matter. I'm sure he will make a decision similar to the one I would have made."

"Which is...?"

Geta's face suddenly became serious. Without answering, he pulled you towards the gates roughly. But you clearly heard the sounds of screaming and shouting coming from the hall. You felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Did he murder them?” Your voice cracked.

He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you into the carriage. "They killed themselves at the very moment they set foot in Rome, Aurelia.”

It seemed that Decima was attempting to sit next to you, but he indicated the seat opposite. He then sat right next to you. You couldn't focus on them staring at each other, the screams still echoing in your ears, and continued to torture you all the way. All this brutality felt so wrong.

——

When you arrived at the Poorhouse, the children noticed you and ran towards you with huge, beaming smiles on their faces, gathering around you with cheerful laughter.

“Princess Aurelia!”

You smiled at them. They then looked curiously at your emperor brother, who was standing behind you. The guards approached Geta, looking a little wary. Geta covered his nose with his hand. With a somewhat displeased expression on his face he extended his arm towards them as if warning them.

“Don't you dare come near me!” He yelled.

“They're just children,” you muttered.

“But, they're filthy,” he grimaced.

You rolled your eyes and went over to the boy you had met earlier. It seemed that the mother and baby were doing better. You asked Decima to bring your bag and, as Medicus, you examined the woman and her breast milk, which was now coming in. Geta observed you as you treated a few wounded and sick people. He maintained his distance, of course. Since these people had only seen his face from a great distance before, their jaws were dropped open when he appeared before them in all his majesty.

The provisions have been brought as you requested. But it didn't seem to be enough to feed these people, yet they were happy and grateful.

"I should also provide some new clothes for them," you said, approaching Geta.

He folded his arms and looked them up and down. His expression had become somewhat more gentle, as though he was lost in thought. He seemed to be deeply affected by the unfortunate situation he had witnessed.

"You were right after all," he murmured. "They really do look rather poorly."

You looked at him. "Your Majesty, you have decided to extend a helping hand to these people?"

He locked eyes with you for a moment, his expression hard to decipher, but he seemed happy. Then he cleared his throat. "I would never allow them to pollute the streets of Rome." He turned to one of the guards. "Do as Princess Aurelia says. Make sure you provide what is needed here. And if you dare to speak to my brother about this, I will have your tongue cut out myself.”

The guard bowed his head. “Yes, Your Highness.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you, brother. I believe there may be some good in you after all."

He frowned. "I'm not sure if that's meant as an insult or a compliment."

“Perhaps both.” You stuck your tongue out at him and laughed. You were just trying to make him laugh and your intentions were innocent. But he wasn't laughing. In fact, he was looking at you seriously in a way you'd never seen him before.

"Don't laugh at me like that." His voice was sharper than his gaze. “As if you don't belong to someone else.”

You swallowed, his eyes looking at you with a dangerous intensity. You averted your eyes.

“My lady,” Decima came to your side. She was holding a bowl, without even turning your head, you could smell what was in it. The smell of meat was intense. You felt like your stomach was cramping.

“Hot, freshly prepared food has arrived, the children are eating. Would you like to have some too?”

Instinctively you covered your nose with your hand. "No, Decima, could you keep that bowl away from me?"

"Ah, it seems we have some things in common after all. I think it looks disgusting too." Geta said with a displeased expression. "Well, I think I've seen enough, I want to leave now." He turned towards the carriage.

He raised his hand and beckoning you to join him. As it was nearing dusk, you were keen to return home, so you nodded in agreement. However, as you began to walk towards him, your vision blurred, and your feet betrayed you, causing you to collapse on the ground. When your cheek touched the cold cobblestone, you felt a severe headache. Then everything went black. The last thing you remember was Decima and Geta's concerned voices mixed together with the voices of children.

——

You felt slight shaking of your body, which prompted you to wake up. Your headache was still present, opened your eyes slowly. The first thing you saw were the golden curtains glimmering by moonlight, which entered through the long window. Next to the window was an armchair with golden details. It seemed as though everything in the room had a golden hue. You realized that you had been in this room before. You were beginning to regain consciousness. You then sat up.

"Sister, I hope you are feeling a little better?"

You opened your eyes wide and looked at Geta, who was lying next to you. On the bed. His bed. You let out a scream in shock. He flinched.

"WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?”

You quickly checked yourself over. Your clothes had been took off, and you were wearing a white, almost see-through tunic that didn't just belong to you. “What happened to my clothes?” You yelled.

Geta covered his ears with his hands. “Ugh! Could you please stop screaming? You're hurting my ears!”

“What have you done to me?”

He laughed loudly and hysterically. "Apart from making you clean up and bring it to my room? What was I supposed to do? You collapsed on that awful, stinking street. Should I have let you stay in your filthy clothes? It was gross, so I had them thrown away."

The slaves must have dressed you, at least that was a relief. But you were still very angry that you had been put in this embarrassing situation. You realised that his eyes were roaming over you. You grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to your neck, covering your body.

“Get me some decent clothes now!” Your voice was slightly trembling with anxiety.

Geta raised his eyebrows, he pointed his index finger at himself. “Did you actually say that to me? You have no manners at all. You don't know how to talk to an emperor.” He teased.

You moaned in response, placed your head in your hands and rested on your knees.

“Please, call Decima over here.”

"I want to know why you fainted. Tell me, are you sick?"

He touched your shoulder, you pulled yourself back and got out of bed. It is almost nighttime now. The mere thought of Marcus coming to Domus Severiana and seeing you like this made you shiver.

"Girl!" Geta yelled towards the door.

Decima and Geta's slave entered the room together, both looking at you with concern.

"Make sure you dress the princess properly. Otherwise she'll be torturing my ears with her squeaky voice all night." He said, squinting at you.

You ignored him. When the girl left the room to bring you a stola, Decima came over and held your hands.

"Are you alright? You frightened me.”

"I'm fine, but we should return to the villa now."

‘"Indeed, you've been unconscious for a while, it's almost midnight."

"Midnight?" You bit your lip.

Now that was something to worry about. You were sure Marcus would be here soon. Luckily the slave girl came with a stola and began to dress you. You heard footsteps and then a knock on the door.

Geta was still sitting on the bed, wine in his hand. With his permission, a slave boy who came in looked scared. “Your Highness, my lady. General Acacius-“

“Aurelia!”

Marcus's booming voice made you feel like you were on the verge of fainting again.

Geta grinned. "This is going to be fun."

You warned him as he was leaving the room. "Please don't say anything ridiculous to him.”

He shrugged. With your heart beating like it was going to burst out of your chest, you urged the girls to hurry up. Geta left the room. You tensed up even more when you heard him calling his name. Finally, the girls finished dressing you as quickly as they could, and you left the room, heading for the stairs with Decima who was trying to catch up with you. As you descended the stairs, you saw him and locked eyes with Marcus. He observed you with a keen gaze. You bit your bottom lip. He then looked at the stairs that belonged to Geta's chamber, then at Geta himself. Suddenly he grabbed Geta's collar with his fists, causing everyone to become tense.

"Have you gone mad Acacius? What do you think you're doing?” Geta barked.

“Marcus!” You ran towards them.

The guards drew their swords.

“What have you done to my wife?” He roared.

“Get your hands off me now!” Geta warned.

“Marcus, please, it's not what you think.” You grabbed his big hands and tried to pull them away from your brother's collar, but it was like moving a marble statue.

“You don't seem to be taking good care of your wife like you promised.”

Marcus tightened his grip and shook him angrily. “What are you saying?”

The guards approached the two of them, their swords pointed at Marcus.

“General Acacius, I warn you.” One of the guards said.

Marcus ignored him, his dark eyes locked on Geta’s.

“Your wife fainted in the middle of the street. I wonder if you were aware that she's been sick.’’

Marcus then withdrew his hands, released him. You exhaled in relief. Geta ordered the guards to put their swords away.

Marcus stepped towards you. "Is that true?" He sounded concerned, touching your face with his hands.

You grasped his hand. "I felt unwell for a moment, but I'm fine now."

Marcus observed your face a little more. Then put his arm around you and glared at Geta. "We shall take our leave now."

Geta shouted behind you two. "You're not even going to ask for my forgiveness, Acacius?"

Marcus answered without looking at him. "With all my heart, no."

You turned your head and looked over your shoulder at Geta. He looked angry and annoyed. You gave him a faint smile.

"Your Highness, shall we stop him?" One of the guards gripped his sword once more.

"Just give us the order, Your Highness."

"Shut the hell up! Leave me alone, all of you! Get out of my sight!" He shouted at them and walked towards his chamber. Caracalla watched the whole thing from a distance, he was looking at his brother coming up.

"You're so pathetic." Caracalla chastised.

"Don't you start!" Geta barked at him, walked towards his room, and slammed the door.

——

It was well after midnight by the time you arrived back at the villa. Marcus still seemed a little tense, which made you wonder what he was thinking. He was looking at your ankle as you walked to your room. He stopped in front of the door.

“I do not see your knife.”

You looked at him, you had no clue.

“Here, sir,” Decima said. She came up the stairs and stood beside you. She was holding your scabbard in her hand. She handed it to you. “After you fainted-“ She avoided Marcus's stern gaze, turning her eyes to you. “I'm the one who dressed you so I kept this.”

“Thank you, Decima.”

She smiled. “If you'll excuse me, sir, my lady,” she bowed and turned to head for the stairs.

Marcus closed the door behind you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and guided you to sit on the bed, then sat down next to you.

"My love. Are you sure you're feeling well?" His hands touching all over your face.

How can I possibly feel bad when you touch me like this? You thought.

"I suppose I do not need to bring a Medicus for you?” He smirked. “So, what is your diagnosis, lady medicus?”

You smiled. “Hmm, I think I became a little nervous when I-“ You swallowed.

“Continue, please.”

"Caracalla. He had our relatives from Leptis Magna killed. I didn't see them, but I heard them…”

Marcus frowned, clenched his hand into a fist and pressed it to his forehead. He then closed his eyes. “That scum. He must be out of his mind for sure.”

You put your hand on his shoulder. "How do you mean?”

He then stood up. You went over him, untying the strings of his armour.

"Macrinus. He has a majority in the Senate. He managed to eliminate Gaius and his supporters. Caracalla is his instrument. It is likely that he will announce him Commander of the Praetorian (Imperial) Guards imminently. I should have killed him last night." He banged his fist on his desk, almost startling you.

You took a deep breath. “Then why did he go to Libya?” You helped him take off his armour.

"I believe there is a possibility that he is raising his own army. I haven't heard from the legions in that area for some time now."

"His own army?" You shocked. You hadn't realised how serious things were.

"If my suspicions are correct, yes. He also would want to incorporate the southern legions into his own as well."

"Your legions?"

“I'm afraid so.” He turned his head towards you. "I may have to go there soon."

You cringed and your chest hurt. You weren't expecting this at all.

Marcus realised the look on your face and put his arms around you. "I'll have to kill him sooner or later. And them too." His voice was sharp.

Surely you were aware of whom he was referring to.

“I will not waste another generation of young men on their arrogance and vanity. I will not allow Macrinus to use your brothers' trust and start a civil war that will harm Rome.”

“Caracalla, yes, but maybe Geta-“ the words seemed to stick in your throat.

"Are you defending him to me?"

"Absolutely not." You shook your head. "I was just thinking he might make a good emperor.”

"Please Aurelia. I assume you're not meant seriously.”

"He's not like Caracalla. I believe you are aware of that. I don't think you are truly inclined to kill him."

"I was considering it. When I saw you coming out of his chamber..." He pursed his lips, trying to be calm.

You tensed as you remembered that moment. "I'm truly sorry about that." You bowed your head. Marcus placed his hand under your chin and gently lifted your face to look at your eyes.

"He didn't touch you, did he?" His brown eyes were almost black.

"No, Marcus. Of course not."

He grabbed your face in his big hands, pulled you towards him, you stumbled with the sudden rush of his. "I am the only one who can touch you. You are my Aurelia. Mine."

"I am indeed, Marcus.”

"Say it," he demanded. "Say that you're mine. I want to hear it from your lips."

"I am yours." You said softly.

He smirked and bent his head, kissing you roughly almost forcefully. His skillful hands were not gentle while undressing you in a hurry. When you were completely naked, he scooped you up and put you on the bed. In the blink of an eye he was on top of you and then inside you. While he’s having you roughly, his lips, his tongue, his teeth travelled over every possible part of your flesh. Marking you. As if physically claiming you. Making you his.

—-

The sun had just risen when you opened your eyes. But it wasn't its light that woke you. It was the sudden pain in your stomach and the feeling like you'd been punched. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hand, attempting to suppress the urge to vomit. You hurried out of Marcus' arms and ran to the latrina. He was roused from his slumber by the sound of the door closing with a resounding bang.

“Aurelia?”

You were too distracted by feeling unwell to focus on his concerned voice. You splashed water on your face to feel better after violently throwing up. Suddenly you felt Marcus's hands on your shoulders. “My love?”

Your stomach was still causing you pain and you found it difficult to speak. Also, your head was spinning, so you took a moment to lean against the wall. Marcus quickly took you into his arms and carried you to the bed, sitting next to you.

“My lady, I'm really starting to worry now.”

“No, please don't. If I get some rest, I'll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” He took your hand in his hands.

You nodded and smiled at him. But his face showed concern.

“Perhaps I could stay here with you today.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Cato came in with Marcus's permission. He gave you both a nod. “Sir, I am here to inform you that the soldiers you have been expecting from the south have entered the city at dawn. The Legates have requested an immediate assembly.”

"Is that so? At last, some good news." He said, then looked at you with uncertain eyes.

You smiled at him and touched his hand with yours. "Please do not concern yourself with my well-being. Just leave. It must be important."

He leaned towards you and kissed you on the forehead. "Have a good rest, my love. And please be well." He kissed your hand before leaving the room with Cato.

After a while there was a knock on the door again. Decima brought breakfast for you.

"My lady, are you feeling better?"

"I believe so."

She approached your bedside. "Would you like me to feed you?”

You laughed. “Dear, please. Hopefully I'm not in a situation that requires me to be fed." You got out of bed and walked towards to the chair. You weren't exactly starving, but you knew you needed to eat to feel strong. You asked Decima to join you.

"My lady, well I am. I've been thinking it over.”

“Hmm?”

"This nausea you're feeling, the headaches. I wonder if...’ When she looked at you suggestively, you swallowed and looked at her, taken aback.

You'd never thought of that. As a medicus, you were confident that you didn't have any other underlying health issues. On top of that, it had been a few weeks since the wedding and you hadn't had any monthly bleeding since then.

"Gods," you murmured. "Could it really be?”

Decima took your hands, seemed excited. "I think so. Have you ever examined a woman carrying a child?"

"No, I've only assisted women in labour. I know how to run a consultation though. But it's still too early to be certain."

Decima smiled widely. "I hope you're with child."

You couldn't help smiling back. "I hope that too. But we should keep this between us for now."

"Indeed, of course.”

“Domina!” came a voice from behind the door.

“Come in.”

The slave boy from yesterday came in, his face was worried again.

“Am I being summoned again? Please tell them I'm sick and having rest.”

"You're not being summoned, my lady.”

“What's the matter, then?”

He bowed his head, as if he didn't know what to say.

“Tell me.” You demanded.

“If you can come down, you'd better see for yourself.”

You exchanged glances with Decima, then got up and left the room. As you were making your way down the stairs, you almost lost your footing when you saw the person standing in the courtyard.

“Lady Domna?”

Julia was waiting by the fountain in a black cloak. She looked a bit worried and uneasy.

"May I ask what you're doing here?"

"We need to talk." She said in a commanding tone.

You suddenly felt tense as you remembered your last conversation with her. What the hell was she doing here?

'Do you usually keep your guests waiting without offering them a seat?'

You rolled your eyes and gestured to the armchair nearby. “Have a seat.”

She sat down in a rather arrogant manner. “Leave us,” she told your slaves. But they were looking at you. Julia was annoyed.

You sat opposite her. “Leave us alone please," you said the slaves with a smile. They then bowed their heads and left the courtyard. Decima too, she nodded.

"Your slaves don't know how to behave." She muttered.

"Could you please tell me why are you here? I thought you were in Syria?"

"I've recently returned. Never mind that. I need you to help me with something."

"My help? Why should I help you?"

"Because I believe you would want to.”

You crossed your arms. "What are you talking about? Speak clearly, please."

Julia sighed. Then leaned closer to you with a sharp gaze, whispering. "I need you to help me kill Caracalla.”

 

 

Chapter 11: The Accusation

 

“Ad astra per aspera”

To the stars though difficulties…

 

Villa…

 

"I need you to help me to kill Caracalla.”

You stared at Julia's face in astonishment, trying to make sense of what you just heard. Her dark brown eyes were serious, but you noticed something in her expression that you couldn't identify – it was somewhere between fear and unease.

"You came to my house to ask me to help you kill your son? Is that correct?”

“He is no longer my son. Macrinus has made him a mere plaything. He pretty much does whatever he wants. He had his relatives killed, without any hesitation. I can't let him kill Geta too. It's only a matter of time. I can't lose Geta.” She sounded upset when she mentioned him. "I lost everything to Macrinus. First he took my son, then my reputation. My own son won't listen to me, he sent me into exile, which is unacceptable." Her tearful voice suddenly turned serious. "I have no one left to go to but you which Acacius had a hand in this, of course.”

‘What are you sa-?’

"He wiped out my men in Legates. They were my last remaining stronghold. I did everything I could to keep them on my side for all those years. Did he tell you how he killed them? I'm sure he didn't, so as not to startle you."

You took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. "My husband doesn't hide anything from me. But even if he did, I'm sure he has his own reasons." You said confidently.

"Sure he has!" she said sarcastically.

She was testing the limits of your patience. "Cease talking nonsense about my husband!" You barked. "Simply say whatever you came to say then take your leave.”

"Fair enough.” She crossed her legs. “Caracalla must die before Macrinus returns to Rome. Before he appoint him as Praetorian prefect (commander of the Imperial Guard)." She took a deep breath. "I'm sure of that he will take action against my sons once he assumes command of the guards. This could potentially lead to him ascending the throne. However, if Caracalla dies, it might weaken Macrinus' position. It would be more feasible to defeat him when Geta is emperor.”

"And you needn't worry about being hidden away in the shadows, as it seems unlikely that Geta will exile you like his brother did? It sounds like you're saving yourself.” She averted her eyes which meant you were right. "But why do you need my help exactly?"

"I believe you care about Geta, don't you? He also cares for you in some way. Perhaps more than you realise.”

“There’s nothing—“

You were about to protest, but she silenced you by raising her hand. “I am his mother, so I know him well and I know you don't wish him dead too. Besides, it would be better for everyone if he rules Rome alone. So Caracalla must die as soon as possible before harms him. You're a medicus, aren't you? You could make a concoction of herbs that will kill him painlessly.”

Her words were sharp, but her gaze was unwavering, declaring that this was the path she had to take. But it was still strange that she said it so easily. It felt wrong.

"I wouldn't have come to you if I didn't have to. It's only a matter of time before he finds out, accuse me of betrayal, and send me back. This is our sole opportunity before Macrinus's return."

‘Our? There is no ‘our’, there is no we. Furthermore, it is not a decision that can be made alone. You present this as an easy solution, but I am a married woman and my husband is a Roman general. What will happen to my husband if your plan fails? Have you ever considered this?”

She rolled her eyes. “Isn't that why you should help me? Once he's dealt with my sons, Macrinus' next target is General Acacius. To get you.” You knew exactly what she meant and she realized that. "I imagine your husband feels very regretful about not taking Macrinus out that night. Because I know he won't let him get away with it.”

You swallowed hard, hating to admit that she was right. Julia smiled, seeming amused by your expression. "Oh, poor Aurelia. It must be tough to be caught between three men. Yet you are fortunate. Even if you were to become a widow one day, there'd be another man waiting for you. Since you're a Roman princess, you're worth a great deal.”

That was the last straw. You felt a rush of anger and stood up abruptly. “Get out of my house now! Leave!” You barked, pointing your finger at the courtyard door. Julia stood up, looking insolent.

“If you truly care about Geta, think about what I said.”

“I said leave!” You shouted, then pointing your finger at her. “I'm warning you, don't you ever speak ill of my husband and don't come to my house again!”

Some of the slaves rushed towards you.

“Domina!”

“Escort Lady Domna outside.” You said sharply.

Julia gave you a stern look and turned away. She raised her hand to stop the slave who was approaching her. Then she left the courtyard. You were still pretty angry and tired, which made your head spin even more. Decima put her arm around you and made you sit on the lectus (couch). She grabbed your feet and gently lifted them, helping you lie down. Norell and Tullia were keeping an eye on you from a distance, looking a bit worried. You looked them with a half smile and told them to get on with their work. You leaned your head back and closed your eyes. Decima took your hand.

"Would you like me to make you some dittany tea (cretan thyme)?" It was an herb that was usually used for relaxation. Decima was from Egypt, so she was familiar with herbal teas. Well, not as familiar as you are, of course.

You looked at her. "Not that, not if I'm..." you said quietly.

"Oh, you're right. Chamomile then?”

"Yes, that's better. Thank you my dear.”

After drinking your chamomile tea, you fell asleep in the courtyard. The slaves were mindful of your need for rest and made every effort to avoid disturbing you. Those who walked towards the courtyard did so as quietly as they could. Then Mau appeared and jumped next to you. However, you were so deeply asleep that you were unaware that she had fallen asleep on your lap. You were suddenly awakened by the sound of a sword being unsheathed and a man shouting. Mau meowed loudly, jumped out of your lap in fright and sought refuge elsewhere.

Seeing Octavius holding his sword to a man's throat who you had never seen before. Opened your eyes in surprise.

“Sir! Have mercy please!” He begged. You noticed some parchment papers and a reed pen in his hand.

You sat up on the couch. “Octavius, what is happening here?”

"My lady, this rat was attempting to draw your likeness without your permission."

You were taken aback. "Can you clarify what you mean by that?”

Decima turned to you. "This man came for the General, but we informed him that he was not present. I then assumed that he had departed. Forgive me, my lady.”

Your eyesbrows rose. “You came to draw my husband?”

The man swallowed. Octavius shook him. “Lady Aurelia asked you a question. Speak, thief!”

You warned him, “Octavius, please put that sword away and allow the man to speak.”

He obeyed. The man stood up ad bowed. “Yes, my lady. Aventine cloth dyers association are paying me to do a mural of General Acacius and the tiger he fought in the arena, my lady.”

“Explain yourself. Why would they do that?” Octavius barked.

“He’s famous, sir, the city, all the Roman citizens likes him. He’s a hero.”

You smiled, and he was indeed a hero to you. You picked up the fallen scrolls and took a moment to examine them. He had painted you so well, even the mau in your lap, which you found quite remarkable.

"But you drew me, his wife," you murmured.

"My lady, allow me to beat this insolent rat to death," Octavius hissed. The man shuddered with fear.

"Please, sir. Leave him alone," you said, a little harshly.

"My lady, forgive me. You were so beautiful when you slept that I was overcome with admiration and wanted to draw your likeness.”

You felt your cheeks flush involuntarily.

“How dare you!” Octavius roared.

“Calm yourself, sir.” You gave Octavius a warning look. You stood up and approached the man. “Please rise.”

The man stood up looking a little ashamed.

“I'll tell my husband you came by. You are well talented, I liked your drawing,” you said, showing him the parchment. “May I keep this?”

He looked at you and gave you a big, warm smile. "It's already yours, my lady. I'm really pleased you think so.

You glanced at Octavius, who seemed to be losing patience. Then you looked at the man. “You may yet leave now.”

The man bowed his head and gave you a shy look, then turned and walked out of the courtyard. Octavius accompanied him outside. You and Decima studied the painting the artist had created. She then enquired as to whether she might bring you something to eat, and with your approval, she departed. It would seem that Mau was hungry when she returned to you, as she rubbed her tail against your leg. She meowed loudly when she saw Norell approaching you a moment later with a tray in her hands.

"Where's Decima? I thought she was supposed to bring the food.

You noticed that Norell's cheeks flushed. "Well, my lady, she had some more work to do in the kitchen."

"Is she all right?"

She nodded, but her freckled cheeks were still red. You grabbed her wrist as her furtive look and tone of voice made you wonder what she was hiding. "Tell me, what's going on?"

"Um, Decima. She took food to Sir Octavius." She averted her eyes from you and smiled in a way that seemed a little evasive. You blinked in surprise and then laughed.

“Oh, well, well,” you said, amused. “When these two have become so close?"

Norell chuckled. "It has been a while now. She often speaks of him."

You giggled. "Where might they be now?"

She turned her head towards the courtyard. “Over there.”

"Perhaps we could go and take a quick look at them," you suggested, with a hint of mischief in your voice.

Norell let out a soft laugh and followed you behind. The slave at the door was about to speak to you but you silenced him by putting your index finger to your lips.

You and Norell peered out of the door, observed Octavius and Decima by the stables, talking, smiling at each other. The slave at the door looked at them from behind you and grinned too.

As you watched them from a distance you recognized a familiar feeling in the way they looked at each other, love.

"My dear Decima," you murmured, sharing her happiness.

Norell sighed deeply. "I hope that one day I will be in love too.”

You heard the other slave sigh and you both looked at him with surprise. He bowed his head shyly.

“Domina? My lady?”

All three of you were startled by Tullia's loud voice. Decima had heard it too, and when she turned her head towards you three. You blushed and hurried inside.

“Tullia! Why are you shouting?” you snapped.

“Oh, forgive me. I thought…”

You and Norell had laughed loudly running towards the other courtyard. Tullia was looking at you, a bit confused. Decima came into the courtyard and made her way towards your voices.

“My lady?” She then looked at Norell in a rather angry way.

“I didn't say anything,” she said, holding up her hands.

"Come now, why are you keeping this from me?" you smiled at her.

Decima blushed.

“You're already sooo obvious.” Norell said smugly.

“What did you say?” Decima frowned and approached her and Norell turned around to run away. They ran into the courtyard and you followed. Decima cupped water from the fountain and threw it at her. Norell also did the same. They began to soak each other, laughing together. Norell ran towards you, intending to hide, but as Decima attempted to throw water at her again, the water hit you in the face, and you flinched when you felt the cold water on your skin.

“Gods!” Tulla cried out. She ran towards you. “My lady, are you alright? Look what you've done! Cease this nonsense now!” She yelled at them.

Mau had also got her share of a soaking, licking herself like mad to dry.  Decima and Norell were looking at you with guilty looks on their faces. But you, far from being angry, approached them with a serious expression and cupped the water from the fountain and threw in their faces. And a fun game began between the three of you. Tullia's grunts mixed with your laughter and echoed throughout the courtyard.

By the time the general arrived, you were still engaged in your game. Octavius was observing you at the door, perhaps not fully aware of his surroundings.  Marcus heard the loud, cheerful laughter and dismounted, heading for the courtyard with curiosity. He looked where Octavius was looking and was struck by the difference between this view and the one he saw every time he returned home. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. He was at a loss as to how to react. He smiled as he recognized your cheerful laughter. Then he looked at Octavius, who looked like he was stunned.

“What are you looking at?” he yelled.

Octavius startled with his loud voice. “Sir!”

“You may leave Octavius,” he grumbled. How dare he watch my wife? he thought. Well actually he was watching someone else but still.

You all froze when you noticed him. Decima and Norell bowed to him and made their way away from the situation as quickly as they could.

“I'll get you some dry clothes, my lady,” Tullia said and ran out of the courtyard.

How great. They all left you alone with Marcus. He regarded you with interest as he approached. The stone floor was quite wet, as were your dress. You bit your lip, uncertain of his reaction. Fortunately, a smile soon appeared on his face, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"I must apologise for not realising your arrival."

"No need to apologise, my love. There is nothing quite like coming home and hearing your cheerful laugh, which is music to my ears."

You had a sudden sneeze. It wasn't the most romantic answer. Marcus chuckled. “My Lady. You’re all soaked."

Before long, Tullia appeared with a clean dress and the cotton cloth to drying yourself. "If I may, my lady-“

“Give that to me.” Marcus kindly took the cloth from her hand and wrapped it around you. Upon seeing your feet, you instinctively drew them back, as if to hide them. You hadn't realised how wet they were. He smiled and gently took you in his arms, which made your cheeks flush. After all, Tullia was following you behind, carrying your dry clothes in her hands.

Your hand was touching the golden-edged leather strips on his shoulder. Playing with them by running your fingers between each strip. He smiled in response. Once you had entered the room, Marcus set you down. Tullia then placed the dry clothes she had brought for you on the bed, leaving the two of you alone in the room.

"Allow me," you said as you reached for Marcus' armour, but he gently pushed your hands back.

"You first. I do love seeing you like this, but I'm afraid you might catch a chill." His eyes were roaming over your body.

You held his hands and placed them around your waist. “Maybe you could warm me up then?” You smiled naughtily.

He smirked and his hands were already undressing you with haste. Once he had removed your belt and your damp stola, his eyes lingered on the tunic that clung to your body. You were now very aware of the reason for the sudden change in his eyes. That his gentle hands would soon become more impetuous. Even before you reached for the holster on his waist, his lips found yours. His hands were trying to remove your long tunic and you were trying to remove his armour, but it was difficult. When your wet tunic fell to the floor and gathered around your feet, Marcus pushed it aside with his foot, never breaking the kiss. You couldn't tell him to take off his armour because your lips were completely captivated by his. Grabbing you by the hips, he picked you up and put you on the edge of bed. You pulled yourself back with all your might, kneeling on the bed. His armour touching your wet and naked body was a little strange, although seductive. Marcus thought you were playing a game, so he tightened his grip on your lips, not allowing you to break the kiss. But as he tried to come towards you, putting his knee on the bed, the sword at his holster hit the edge. He looked down at himself in surprise and laughed.

“I tried to tell you,” you laughed and helped him out of his armour.

“I must have been under your spell, princess.” He grinned.

Once he'd taken off his armour, Marcus grabbed you around the waist and laid you back on the bed. You couldn't believe how excited you became each time, as if it was the first time he'd ever laid you down and positioned himself on top of you. Moreover, how could it be that each touch of his lips to yours felt so different from the other? It really amazed you that such a simple touch could evoke such strong feelings. Perhaps it was the endless blending of pleasures that this strong bond between you bestowed upon you. What a treat, what a magnificent and wonderful feeling. His lips and tongue were exploring every inch of your body as your bodies fit together perfectly, and you enjoyed one pleasure after another. It felt like there was no end to the adventure of exploring each other's bodies and their needs. Every time you encountered a new sensation and a lot of pleasure. Even Marcus, who was an expert lover, found this to be true. Despite his extensive experience, he had never made love to anyone before you, not even once. It was more than a sexual fulfilment. It satisfies his soul too, as he inhales your scent, touches you, tastes you, he feels complete, he feels alive. To him, you were made for him. The moment you got into his heart, everything lost its meaning; you and all the other insignificant things. You were born into his life like the sun into a dark, war-torn, blood-stained, boring, lonely world. You brought him light and purpose. From now on, he would live to serve you, to make you happy, to protect you from all evil. With you by his side, he was more likely to put his duties for Rome second.

“Marcus,” you moaned. He bent his head and kissed your lips, where you said his name. He didn't want to hear his name from anyone else's lips; only you had to say it, the others not allowed. They couldn't say it like you anyway. It wasn't even a possibility.

“What do you wish me to do, my love?” He whispered in your ear. His lips were caressing your earlobe.

You kissed his cheek and pulled his head towards you with your hands in his hair, it was your turn to whisper in his ear. “You know already.”

He grinned, of course he knew. His big hands gripped your hips tightly, deepening his thrusts and quickening his pace. As you moaned in response, he kissed you. Not to silence you, but to feel your beautiful voice within his very own mouth. Soon together you reached the overwhelming end of your pleasure, moaning into his mouth for the one last time. You remained in that intimate position for a while, breathing heavily. Feeling each other's hearts beating against your chests under your palms. Savoring this glorious moment.

—-

The bright sunshine streamed through the window, illuminating the room with a warm glow. The soft breeze from the balcony caressed your still damp hair, causing you to shiver slightly and pull the sheet over your shoulders. When you heard the swallows chirping, you decided to open your eyes. Marcus wasn't with you in the bed. You frowned and sat up.

“Morning my beautiful wife.”

You turned your head towards his voice. Marcus was at his desk, looking pretty busy with a quill pen and some papers.

“Morning.” You gave him a smile. “Did I sleep for too long again?”

“Just a little,” he replied turning his head back down to continue writing something on the paper. You got up and put on your tunic. However, you then felt nauseous again.

“Excuse me,” you said covering your mouth with hand. Hurried out of the room. Marcus put his quill pen down on the table and stood up. He walked out of the room and followed you into the latrina, waiting outside the door.

"Aurelia, my love. I'm rather concerned."

As you stepped out of the latrina, he put his arms around you.

“Maybe I should call for another medicus?’

"I don't think that is necessary," you said as you walked back to the room together.Marcus helped you to sit on the edge of the bed. He crouched down in front of you, his hands gently smoothing your dishevelled hair.

"You said that you might get better if you rested. However, I can see you're still not feeling well." His face showed concern.

"I'm actually feeling better today." You mumbled. It wasn't a complete lie. The nausea wasn't as bad as it had been the day before. You felt you had no complaints, knowing what was causing this feeling. Marcus lifted your chin up with his hand. You didn't want to tell him before you were certain, but he was so concerned. He needed to know.

"I sense you're hiding something from me.”

You looked at him, blinking your eyes and inhaling a deep breath. "Marcus, I, um. I wasn't sure if I should tell you until I was certain..."

He looked at you from under his eyebrows. "Continue."

You took his hands in yours and looked into his eyes. "I believe I'm with child.”

Marcus froze. His eyes widened in surprise, his pupils dilated. Then the most marvellous smile appeared on his face. He kissed your lips, and his heart overflowed with bliss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling towards him. He buried his face between your breasts, then slid it to your belly, planting kisses along the way. You felt his lips on your belly.

"What have I done to deserve you?"

“It might be too early to say for sure. Perhaps we should wait a little longer-“

His lips found yours suddenly. He put his knee on the edge of the bed next to yours and laid you back down. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Without breaking the kiss, he settled right next to you on the bed. He put one hand on your belly.

“My beautiful Aurelia,” he purred. “I love you, with all my heart and all my soul.” His warm breath caressed your face, your heart blossomed.

“I love you, Marcus. I love you much more than words can ever say.” You touched his cheek with your fingers. “I hope that I am carrying your child.”

“Our child.” he corrected you.

You smiled. “Our child,” you repeated.

He kissed you again, your heart beat with bliss, which soon turns into desire. “I shall spend all my days with you." He said huskily as his hands lifted up the hem of your tunic. “I shall spend all my time making love to you, over and over until our bodies become one.” His lips found yours again and soon turned into a hungry, lustful kiss. As he slid into your shaking body, and you moaned with exultation. This was love. This was blessing. Elysium on Earth.

—-

Over the next few days, you tried a series of tests to find out whether you were carrying a child or not.One of the tests was a common one in Rome and Egypt. All you had to do was urinate in two different bags; one filled with barley and the other with wheat. If the grain in either bag sprouted after being peed on, it meant the woman was definitely with child.As it turned out, they were right. You saw the barley sprouting within a few days, and the wheat took a little longer. Decima said that meant you were carrying a boy. That's how you felt, they said it was a maternal instinct. You never thought of yourself as a mother, at least not this early. But it was indescribable happiness. Marcus was treating you with more tenderness than ever. You were delighted to be the cause of this amazing man having such wonderful feelings. It was a pleasure to see him so cheerful, and the others in the villa were equally pleased to share in his joy.

During this time, Marcus had been closely involved in the training of the soldiers at the Campus Martius (Fields of Mars) just outside the city. Macrinus had been absent for over a week and it was to be expected that he would soon reach Libya. As the general of the army, it was his duty to be prepared for any eventuality and to train his troops accordingly. No matter how busy he was, no matter how late he came home at night, at the end of the day, you found him in bed snuggled between your breasts and legs. You never complained as you wanted him so much as ever thanks to changes of your body that had led to heightened sexual desire.

That morning, when you were helping Marcus put on his armour, you mentioned Julia. It seems she was pretty desperate, even talking to him about Caracalla too.

"Geta is keeping her hidden," Marcus said as he checked the strings on his armbands, "It's likely that Caracalla will eventually find her. She may have a point about Caracalla being prepared to assign Macrinus as Praetorian prefect. However, he will need to return to accept it. I must finish him before he arrives in Rome." He said with determination.

"I suppose he will return soon, then?”

"He must be. I'm waiting for the messenger pigeon to come back. If the legion commander in Libya confirms he's arrived, I'll make the necessary preparations."

You swallowed, feeling concerned by the fact that he was about to fight Macrinus again. Marcus took your face in his hands.

"Please, do not be concerned, my lady. I gave you my word that you won't lose me."

You nodded. "You do what you need to do, my love."

"I will. For you." He put his hand on your belly. "For our child. I will do whatever it takes to make sure he grows up in a safe Rome, and with other Roman children.”

“I am certain you will.” You embraced him and rested your head on his chest, running your fingers through the contours of the medusa.

“Speaking of children,” Marcus said. You lifted your head to look at him.

“Hmm?”

“All the kids at the Poorhouse and the people there.” He murmured.

“I haven't been to visit them in ages. What about them?”

"You don't have to go. Please don't tire yourself out. I want you to stay here and get some rest. Besides, It seems that Geta is already looking after them in your absence."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Really?”

"Yes, that does astonish me too. I find it unusual that he would spend his coins on something like that."

"He said he would, but I must admit I didn't expect him to keep his promise."

"You might be right about him. Maybe he could be a better emperor.’ You sensed the sincerity of his tone. "However, I tend to agree with Julia about Caracalla." He said, his face suddenly serious. "Every moment he breathes is detrimental to Rome.”

"Julia almost begged me to poison him."

He was checking his sword carefully. "No, that's treacherous. Even for him. He is an emperor, after all. It must be done honorably."

You felt tense. Or was he planning to act soon? He never mentioned it though.

He put his sword in its holster. "Enough politics, I think." He smiled. "I must take my leave now, my lady.”

For some reason, you felt a sudden sense of unease. "Will you be on duty at the Field of Mars today too?"

"That's correct," he replied after adjusting his armour for the last time. "Please don't engage in any risky things during my absence." He said in a commanding tone.

“I'll be making herbal tea, too dangerous,” you said mockingly.

He gave a little laugh and kissed your temple before leaving the room. As you followed him outside, you realised that the uneasy feeling inside you was getting worse. Maybe it was an unnecessary consequence of your new situation: worrying too much about everything. Marcus looked back at you one last time before heading out. You gave him a smile and then he left.

You made your way downstairs to the girls. You had little chat while they were engaged in weaving the carpet. There wasn't much else to do for the rest of the day, except lie down and rest. You visited Unio to feed her and brush her pearly-white mane with your fingers. Marcus had forbidden you to ride, not until the birth. He'd also told you not to go to the poorhouse, and you'd had to obey him on that one too. In the last few days you had become a little better with your knife and Marcus had admired you for it for the first time. But your overly anxious husband didn't want you to pick it up for a while either. Why did carrying a child have to be so boring?

In the evening, you were feeding Mau. Then you heard footsteps approaching from the courtyard.

"Domina!" The slave boy came running to you. He had that look on his face again, hesitation.

"What is it now?"

"The Emperor." He mumbled.

"Sister!"

You were quite taken aback to see Geta appear out of nowhere. He approached you and embraced you while you stared at him with your mouth hanging open.

“What are you doing here?”

Geta made a face. "Is this the manner in which you choose to greet me?"

"Well, apologies. I am simply astonished."

Geta looked around. "So this is your little house.”

You walked towards courtyard together. "Please have a seat, your majesty," you said, gesturing to him.

All eyes in the villa were on your emperor half-brother, who was seated comfortably on the armchair wearing a crown on his head and an overly flamboyant toga. You requested that the slaves bring you wine and fruit. Geta examined the wine glass and took a sip. As you observed him sitting where his mother had sat days ago, you came to recognise the differences between him and her. They were nothing alike. You were surprised that you had never realised this until now.

"It's been almost weeks, I've missed you a lot." He said suddenly. "How are you feeling now?" He looked you up and down.

"I feel better now, thank you." Your hands involuntarily went to your belly. You were unsure whether you should tell him or not. He was so unpredictable that it was difficult to guess the outcome of saying something like this to him. Perhaps it would be best to wait until your belly gets bigger before sharing.

"My mother," he suddenly said in a serious tone. You looked at him. "She's been here. I know what she told you.”

“You do?”

"As she gets older, her behaviour is getting worse. Don't take her seriously."

"Do you think so? What she said to me is something that should be taken seriously."

"You're right, it's horrible. Caracalla really has gone mad, but her intention of killing him... It's simply not right.”

"Is there something new about his madness?"

"Apart from the fact that being Macrinus' plaything? Well, he won't take me to any meetings anymore. He's got a new toy.”

“How you mean?”

"Macrinus' new right-hand man. He's like his shadow, taking care of things while he's away. I've never met him before, but my brother has already assigned him to the important tasks. I hadn't even been informed about it. Can you believe it?"

You thought about what Marcus said to you about Macrinus' spy. "Could he perhaps be one of the legates?"

"No, he's just come from the north. I don't think anyone knows him, not even the general, your husband."

"If Macrinus hid him like Gaius, I don't think he meant well."

"That's what I thought. You're clever, sister. I've missed talking to you. But not politically, of course." He grinned.

You smiled back. "You're helping your mother to hide from Caracalla, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am." He snapped, playing with his glass.

"What if he finds out?"

He shrugged. "That prick sent her without asking me, anyway." Suddenly Geta put his glass on the table and leaned towards you. "Aurelia, he's really out of control. I know Caracalla, always was, but this time it's different. He's hallucinating, dreaming, and that worries me. I know he'll hurt someone else, if not himself. Last time he nearly got me killed, all because of a stupid dream he had."

"Did you say hallucinations?”

He nodded. "I'm certain it's her. Mother. She did this to him. I gave her a clear warning, but she refused to listen. I'm asking you because you're the expert. Is it possible for a herb to have such an effect?"

“Many kinds of plants can do that. But how could Lady Domna possibly poison him?"

"Not directly of course. My slave caught her talking to another slave in the street. She is not aware, but I know everything.” He exhaled deeply. “She should never have come back, she'll get herself killed."

It was something that would endanger not only herself, but everyone including his own son Geta. How could she be so irresponsible? She must be mad for sure just like her son.

"If its on his drink or food, if I can examine it maybe I can help.”

Geta smiled smugly. “That's why I came here.”

He gestured to one of his slaves who was holding a small wooden box. Geta reached the box, opened and took out a vial filled with red liquid and handed it to you.

"Here. This is a sample of the wine he drank yesterday. Will that be enough?"

You took it, uncorked it and sniffed. As you were already highly sensitive to smells, this one smelled completely wrong.

"Yes, I think this would be enough. Let me observe this first.”

"You do that. I must return now. I don't want him to realize I left the palace and came here. He's rather mad and unpredictable more than ever." He stood up and put his hands on your shoulders. "If you happen to find out what it is, send me word. I'll send one of the slaves here. It seems that I can no longer trust my own guards. He is about to place them all under the control of Macrinus' rat."

You nodded. "I will see what I can do, brother."

Suddenly he leaned in, wrapping his arms around you. You tried to pull back, but it was futile.

“Geta,” you hissed. “You should not touch me like this. Please-“

“What's wrong with embracing my sister?” he said arrogantly.

You couldn't help but feel that he was right, but it still felt a little awkward. He laughed at the look on your face and leaned his head down to kiss your cheek. "Take care of yourself, sister. Hope I'll see you soon," he said, with a wink, and left the courtyard with his slaves following him behind.

—-

Campus Martius. (Field of Mars).

General Acacius arrived there after completing his other duties at the barracks. The layout of this place is reminiscent of an army camp, with a number of small buildings.

“Attention! The general is here!” Octavius barked at the soldiers. They immediately stood at attention.

Acacius' eyes were fixed on the recruits. Some of them were pretty clumsy. He jumped down from his horse, squinting at them.

"Chin up! Chest out! Shoulders back! Suck your stomach in!” Octavius commanded, touching their shoulders to ensure they were doing it right. Then he ran to Acacius' side as he approached them. "Sir!" he nodded to him.

"Sir Octavius, these soldiers are struggling to get in line properly! This is how you train them?” he yelled at him.

That's what being a Roman General entailed, after all. Keeping an eye on the rookies and their commanders, supervising his second-in-command, training all the soldiers to keep the army ready for anything, constantly meeting with the Legates to assess the situation. Keeping track of the legions abroad was undoubtedly the hardest task. The army pigeon was the most efficient way to communicate. A trained pigeon could deliver a message in two or three days, whereas a soldier would take months to do the same.

He looked the soldiers in the face as he passed, tapping some on the shoulder to make sure they were properly in line. The soldiers saluted him by putting their hands on their chests. Some of them looked nervous.

“At ease!” Marcus shouted and the soldiers got into a relaxed position to continue their training.

Octavius walked with him towards the building where the Genaral's room was located. Cato was there, waiting for him outside his room. He saluted him.

“Cato, why you are not with the recruits?’’

"Sir, I wanted to let you know that the pigeon has arrived. I have placed it in its cage and I am waiting here to ensure its safety." He said it in a very serious manner.

Octavius chuckled. Marcus grinned.

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Marcus asked him. They were both looking at Cato.

“I believe this prick using the bird as an excuse to avoid training.”

Cato opened his eyes wide. “Never, sir!”

"Who gave you permisson to talk back?" Marcus shouted at him. "Now get out of my sight before I train you myself!"

“Yes, sir!”

Marcus and Octavius laughed after he hurriedly picked up his sword and rushed out. "This boy is really...” He murmured.

"He's been working really hard lately," Octavius said, opened the door and waited for Marcus to enter.

“Do you believe so?” He entered the room and sitting down in his chair and putting his sword on the desk.

"I think he's ready for the platoon training. If you agree.”

 

Marcus opened the lid of the cage and took the small sealed paper tied to the pigeon's foot. "I still don't think he's ready. He must to learn to overcome his hesitation first." The seal belonged to the Eighth Legion. It was stationed in Leptis Magna, a likely place for Macrinus to visit. Marcus lifted the seal and opened the thin paper.

“My dear friend, the esteemed General Acacius. I Caius Drusus commander of eighth legion, salute you! I have dispatched my men to the harbour of Alexandria as you ordered, however both ships that came from Rome brought only armoury and provisions. Sir Macrinus or his men were not among those who disembarked. Also, we have received word of a few men gathering in the Syrian sector, which may be in line with your suspicions. We await your orders. Rome Victrix!”

Marcus crumpled the paper in his fist and squeezed it. Octavius figured it was bad news.

“Sir? What does it say?”

Marcus slammed his hand down hard on the desk, his whole body filled with anger. “Damn you Macrinus!”

Marcus found himself somewhat perplexed. He was certain that Macrinus was on his way to Ostia and that the ship was waiting for him there. But why hadn't he been seen in the harbour? Octavius picked up the paper he had crumpled up and read it with curiosity.

“How can this be?" He put his hands on the desk and looked at him. Or maybe he never actually left? Did he play a trick on us?"

Marcus was mulling it over. Why would he do that? What was he trying to act? He was such a clever enemy that he never gave away his trail. For Marcus, fighting was simple. It was easy to move your sword according to your enemies movement and cut him down. But playing mind games was tough. It was exhausting to think like your enemy, to anticipate his next move, to always try to be one step ahead of him. Especially when the enemy was someone who had the emperor in the palm of his hand. Could he be seeking retaliation? Or had he never left Rome? Marcus exhaled nervously.

“Octavius, I want you to place two men outside the villa.” He ordered, turning to him. “Is Felix still on Palatine Hill?”

"Yes, sir. He's positioned there as you ordered." He'll let me know if anything arises.

Marcus put his hand to his face, closed his eyes and sighed again. “We're missing something, Octavius.”

“What could it be, sir?”

“I'm not certain yet. But I'll find out. Make sure all the men are gathered in our usual place tomorrow night, in incognito. We shall talk over. Now leave me alone.”

“Yes sir,” he said and left the room.

——

Villa…

You had been studying the wine residue that Geta had brought you for most of the day, with the help of Decima and Norell. Despite making a few mistakes and experiencing a few setbacks, you eventually managed to identify the substance as the fruit of the Red Shanglu plant (Phytolacca acinosa). Given its red colour, it was a logical that it would blend well with wine.

“Why doesn't it kill him immediately?” Decima asked. She shook the vial in her hand.

"It's not a particularly poisonous plant. Or maybe the person who made it is inexperienced with it. However, even the smallest amount could cause brain damage. That's more dangerous than death,” you muttered.”

“What kind of fruit is this? Can we find it around here?” Norell asked.

“No, unfortunately not. It's probably a fruit from China or somewhere nearby.”

“Didn't the Empress come here from Syria?” Decima asked.

“Damascus is frequented by Chinese traders, couldn't she have brought it from there?”

“That is true.” When you were in Egypt,your uncle had purchased a number of plants from traders who came from Damascus to Alexandria. This was not an auspicious sign. It would be very difficult to create an antidote without the plant itself.

“So what are you going to do?” Norell asked.

“I need to to speak with Geta. I must inform him of this."

“But the soldiers outside, won't let you.” Decima murmured.

Right. Two of Marcus's men arrived at noon for some reason. You were certain that if you went with them to Geta, there would be tension between those two again. Moreover, it was already dark, and he must be on his way back.

You opened your small leather notebook to review the notes you had taken earlier and consulted the description of this plant. From what you can gather from your notes, it seems that reversing it is not an option. However, there was another fruit that could potentially help to mitigate and cure it. Acorus gramineus (commonly known as Japanese sweet flag). Of course. How you didn’t think of that? You recalled your Uncle Vicius with respect and found that his teachings had proved useful to you in your life. You promptly rose to your feet and took a moment to survey the shelves. This plant is a common genus used in Rome and other regions. You attempted to reach for the jar at the top of the shelves, but it was out of reach. You rose on tiptoe and reached as far as you could. Before Decima had a chance to get up and come over to help, another hand suddenly appeared and grasped the jar.

"I did warn you not to do anything dangerous, didn't I?” Suddenly Marcus appeared next to you.

You looked at him in surprise. When had he arrived? The girls greeted him and left the room. "Jars are now a source of danger to you, General?" You teased, took the jar from his hand and put it on the table.

Marcus smiled and approached you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He planted a tender kiss on your hair and breathed you in, finding your ear. “I missed you.” Then he kissed your cheeks, your nose and your forehead, making you giggle. Then he turned you to him and kissed you on the lips before you could even open your mouth to answer.

“I missed you too, my handsome husband.”

He chuckled and looked at the vials, herbs on the table. "It looks like you had as busy a day as I did.”

You took a deep breath. “I guess I did."

He put a hand under your chin and turned your head towards him. His eyes were already filled with curiosity. "Something has happened. Tell me."

You put your hands on his shoulders. "Geta was here."

He raised his eyebrows. "Your Emperor half-brother Geta?”

“I know no other Geta,” you laughed. But he didn’t.

““What did he want? Why did he come?” He asked in a rather stern tone. Just hearing his name was enough to make him angry. You place your hands on either side of his face. It had an instant calming effect on him, his expression softened immediately.

“You've just arrived, my love, you must be tired. We can talk while we eat."

You picked up a jar of jasmine from one of the shelves.

"I'll put it in our room, it smells nice and has a calming effect."

Marcus put the jar back and grasped your wrist. "There's no need, my love. Your smell is much nicer, and it's the only thing that can calm me down." He led you out of the room.

Once you had entered the courtyard, you requested that Tullia bring the food and walked to your room. Before heading for the stairs, Marcus stopped when he noticed Octavius and Decima talking.

“Why is he still here?”

You chuckled. He looked at you with questioning eyes. You grabbed his muscular arm. It was your turn to tug. “Come now, leave them be.”

“I now understand why he has been distracted lately.” He grunted as he climbed the stairs with you.

“Please don't be angry with him."

“I'm not. But I need to talk to him later.” He said after entering the room.

Your food was brought into the room while you helped Marcus take off his armor. As usual, Marcus sat you on his lap while eating.

"You know, I'm not sure if I'll be able to fit on your lap when my belly gets so big," you said as he fed you a grape.

“Nonsense. There's plenty of room for both of you on my lap," he said, opening his arms. You tilted your head to the side and snuggled into his chest. "As a matter of fact, I can hold three, four, five, or even more," he added, eating his food. You lifted your head to look at his face. "What are you going to do with so many children, General?" you asked, opening your eyes wide.

“I'm going to raise my own army,” he said, laughing.

You laughed too. “Since you are so lascivious husband, it is quite possible.”

“Is it just me? You are too, my sweet wife.”

Your cheeks flushed. “You made me,” you touched his shoulder with yours.

He bent his head and kissed your shoulder. “Pleasure is all mine, my lady.”

“Well, I didn't say I was grateful.” You teased.

As soon as you said that, he looked at you differently. You locked eyes. The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted. You were well aware of why his eyes had changed. "Then I'll take you in such a way that you'll be eternally grateful." He bent down and kissed you passionately on the lips. His kiss became more intense as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He put his hands in your hair and drank so deeply from your mouth that you almost forgot how to breathe. But you wanted so desperately that you never wanted him to stop. Even more so now, you wanted him more than you ever had, and he seemed to be quite pleased about it.  Marcus helped you lie back against his arm. He pulled the hem of your tunic up your legs and pulled you back onto his lap. As he slid the straps of the tunic down your shoulders, you could feel him getting impatient under your hips. When his lips slid to your neck, you threw your head back to gasp for air. But then you gasped again as he started to play with your already very sensitive breasts. Just the touch of his warm tongue made you feel like it was going to send you over the edge.

“Hmm your breasts are so responsive than ever my love."

You were sure your cheeks were redder than wine. “It's simply expecting for this phase,” you said breathlessly. Your impatient fingers ran through his hair. You were eager for him to take you now.

“It only adds to your beauty. You are so beautiful to be real,” he said huskily. You kissed his neck in response. He grabbed you by the hips, lifted you up and laid you on the bed. Soon he was on top of you. You wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him to you. Or rather, you tried. He chuckled. “You are very impatient for someone who is not grateful, princess?”

You sighed. “I apologise, I shouldn't have said that. I'm so grateful, please, Marcus.” You squirmed desperately. It was one of your lustful husband's favorite moments. “Please what, my love?” He put his knee between your legs as slowly as he could.

"I want you," you purred.

His lips were on your earlobe, and the feel of his hot breath on your neck made you shudder.

"You want me where?" He teased. His fingers caressed your nipples, his glorious length brushing against your entrance which driving you mad.

"I want you inside me, please," you whimpered.

He smiled wide, like he won a victory. “I shall fulfill my princess’ desire.” And there he was, right where you wanted him most. You felt like you were going to explode with happiness and break into little pieces. You felt proud of yourself for making progress and getting to this point. Now you both knew each other's bodies and desires well. It was a progress you didn't expect from yourself, and it wasn't difficult at all. Everything was easier with him. Desiring him, kissing him, feeling his skin under your fingers – it was like a need for life. You needed him. You needed him inside you, on your skin, in the air you breathed, everywhere. With him, everything was beautiful and complete. Without him, everything was missing and lost. With him, you felt alive.

—-

"I'm afraid I may be a little late tonight,” Marcus said as you tied the strings on his armbands. ”You'll keep your promise, won't you?”

Oh yes, your promise to him. After a lengthy discussion, he agreed to your proposal of preparing the herbal mixture for Caracalla, but he would prefer you to remain at the villa for the time being.

“I've positioned one of my men near Palatine Hill. One of the soldiers waiting outside will deliver it to him. So there's no need for you to go there," he said in a commanding tone.

You nodded. “I shall do whatever my husband says.”

A broad smile spread across his face. He wrapped his arms around you. “Say it again.”

You giggled. “I'll do whatever my husband says.”

“My ears have been blessed.” He pulled you to him and kissed you on the lips. He then sighed breaking the kiss. “I'm afraid I must take my leave now.”

“I know you'll come back to me eventually, so it will be easier to await for your arrival.”

He took your face in his hands. "You will wait for my return, then, my lady?"

Of course you will, why did he ask such a question?

“I have waited a long time for you, Aurelia,” he said in his velvet voice. His expression was severe, the brown of his eyes warm, intense. “How could I not come back to you?” He kissed you on the temple. He grabbed a few strands of your hair, burried his nose in them inhaling your scent. You rose on tiptoes and kissed him with all the warmth of a woman in love. And he returned your kiss with all the joy and happiness of a man in love. If only Cato hadn't knocked on the door at that moment, you might have stayed there till night.

Once Marcus had left, you went downstairs to your little clinic-like room to make the herbal mixture. With the help of the girls, you managed to do it in less time than you expected. You did as Marcus told you and handed a vial of the mixture to one of the soldiers who were positioned outside the villa. He mounted his horse and headed to Palatine Hill.

As you sat with the girls until the evening, you found yourself feeling that strange sense of unease you had yesterday. It was just like that dream you had a few weeks ago. No matter how hard you tried to ignore it, you couldn't. And it didn't seem to go away until Marcus came back.

It was just after midnight and you were lying in bed playing with your wedding ring. Mau was sleeping peacefully next to you. But unlike him, you were far away, feeling peaceful. You couldn't sleep without seeing him return to you. Soon, however, you heard some horses neighing and murmuring, and your body filled with excitement. You quickly got out of bed. You wrapped your shawl around yourself and left the room, heading for the stairs. But you were halfway up the stairs when you saw the face of a man you didn't know. If you hadn't been holding on to the railing, you would have stumbled. One of the slaves stepped in front of the man, but he pushed him hard. From his clothes, it was clear he was one of the imperial guards. They usually kept their galea on, but not this man. At his command, five or six more soldiers entered the courtyard and all of them stood at attention. They were all dressed like imperial guards. You were wide-eyed, trying to understand what is happening, Decima ran up to you and held your hands nervously. Everyone in the villa woke up to the sounds and rushed to your side.

“You must be Princess Aurelia,” the man said, nodding then smiling weirdly at you. His eyes lingered too long on your body. You felt uncomfortable with the way he looked at you. You pulled your shawl tighter around your body. "Who do you think you are? I will not tolerate you entering my house at this time of night like a raider. I want to know who you are! Speak!"

The man laughed arrogantly. "My name is Flavius, my lady. You do not know me, but your husband does." He took a few steps towards you. "However, even if it's a very tempting idea, I am not here because of Acacius. As for your question, I am here by the command of your brother, the Emperor Caracalla. I shall take you to him."

You were both confused and afraid. "At this time of night? What is so urgent?"

"Oh, true. I forgot to mention the charges against you, forgive me." He smirked, gesturing to one of his men.

The man unfolded the scroll paper to read it aloud. "Princess Aurelia, you are under arrest by the command of the emperor. Your charges are; attempting poisoning of the Emperor himself, conspiracy behind his back, and aiding and abetting the exiled empress."

You swallowed, your heart pounding fast. It seemed likely that the ointment you had sent to Geta must have fallen into Caracalla's hands somehow. "I don't accept these charges! There must be a misunderstanding." you said.

"It doesn't really matter, my lady, I have been instructed to take you to Palatine Hill. And I will." The man came close enough to reach for your arm, but you stepped back.

"Lady Aurelia is the wife of General Acacius and also a princess. When the general returns home, they will go together to the emperor. Perhaps it would be inadvisable to take her by force, sir Flavius?” Tullia said firmly.

They knew each other? You wondered who he was.

”I remember you now. You stood up to me like this back then too. You may have aged but you're still stupid. Get out of my way at once!” Flavius barked.

Wiht Tullia's lead, the slaves and girls moving in front of you as if shielding you. The man sighed and drew his sword.

“No!” you cried.

“The Emperor's orders are final! Get out of my way or I will slay you all with my sword!”

“Do as he says!” You warned them, your voice trembling with fear. They regarded you with an uncertain expression.You held Tullia's hands. "Please, I don't want you to get hurt. I will be fine, I promise."

Then they bowed their heads and, with visible reluctance, withdrewing involuntarily.

You looked at him. “I should dress properly, first,” you said and headed for the room.

“I'm waiting, princess!” He said arrogantly.

How dare he talks to a princess like that? As soon as you walked in the room, immediately grabbed your scabbard and tied it around your ankle. You had to be prepared for anything. You put your hands on your belly, hoping everything would be fine. You put on your stola, look around the room one last time, opened the door and went out. Walked down the stairs, looking at the slaves who looked at you with concern. They were your friends, your family. You smiled at them reassuringly. The man named Flavius held out his hand to you. "My lady.”

You stepped towards outside, choosing to ignore him. Suddenly, you noticed Marcus' soldiers, who were brought to their knees with swords held at their throats by guards. "Put your swords away!" you barked them. But they looked at their commander. Flavius nodded. The men drew back their swords and sheathed them.

"General Acacius has entrusted us with the Lady Aurelia," one of the soldiers said. "We must accompany her.”

Flavius turned to him. "So that's what your General told you, eh? What if I don't let you then?"

The soldier looked at him sharply and drew his sword halfway, the sharp sound of the blade making you tense. "Then we'll have to stop you."

"No, please," you interrupted. You stopped the soldiers by raising your hands.

"My lady, please step aside. The general's orders are certain, and if we die for him, it would be an honour to do so."

Flavius laughed cruelly. “We must give him what he wants then!” He ordered to his soldiers and they all drew their swords once more. You were worried because they were outnumbered. Despite all of your objections, they began to fight. Flavius took hold of your arm and led you towards the carriage.

“Get your hands off me!” You struggled, but he was so strong. "Don't you hear me? I am your princess! You can't touch me!" You shouted at the top of your lungs but it was in vain. He made sure you were seated in the carriage and turned round. After his men killed Marcus' soldiers they mounted their horses at his command. Soon the carriage moved to take you to Palatine Hill. You couldn't stop your tears and sobs as you looked at the soldiers lying lifeless on the ground.

Marcus, where are you? you murmured as you gazed out the window, surveying the dark and gloomy streets.

—-

A place just outside the city…

Marcus and Octavius are waiting in one of the dark streets, which is meant to be a secret meeting place. They're both wearing black cloaks. He had stationed a few of his men at key points in the city to be ready for any move Macrinus might make, and every now and then they hold a small, secret meeting in this gathering place. Secrecy was very important. It had to be late at night because it was an important matter that was only between them. But tonight there was something odd. None of his men showed up. They should have been here by now. Octavius looked down the road but didn't see anyone. They decided to wait a bit more, soon they heard footsteps coming closer. It was one of Marcus's men.

“General! Sir!” The man was out of breath. “Guards. Macrinus.”

Marcus touched his shoulder. “Easy. Breathe.” He told him. “Speak clearly. Why are you on your own?"

"Speak, Aris, what has happened?" Octavius growled.

"The imperial guards arrested all of our men and took them to Palatine Hill."

"On what grounds? What did they say?"

"Have you seen Macrinus there?" Marcus asked.

He shook his head. Suddenly there was the sound of  number of horses approaching towards them and they all tensed up.

"You were followed, you fool!" Octavius hissed.

Guards quickly surrounded and circled around them. One of them looked at Marcus. It was Flavius. “Acacius, It's been too long. Strange night, isn't it?” He jumped down from his horse. Marcus looked at him, astonished.

“Flavius?” He looked him up and down. He recognised his rank by his attire. “So you've been appointed commander of the guards? I thought you were up north.”

So he was the Macrinus' shadow man. He knew exactly what he was doing, Marcus thought.

“I returned a while ago,” he took a step closer to him. “Since I have unfinished business here. With you.” His voice sharpened.

Marcus remained still.

“You killed my brother, remember? You took him from me. And for what? For screwing your wife when you're in the south?”

Marcus clenched his fists. His body was filled with rage. He was dangerously on the edge.

"I've been looking forward to this moment for quite some time, Acacius. I have been waiting for the right moment to take what you have from you when you feel happy.”

Marcus grasped hilt of his sword. Octavius and Ariswere ready, waiting for his command.

"So Macrinus made you his commander? Is this how you plan to get revenge on me?"

"He's a very clever man, I'll give him that. And he's determined to finish you, though not as determined as I am." He grinned.

"Right, so how do we do it? One on one? You and I?" Marcus drew his sword to half-length.

Flavius laughed. "You've already lost, Acacius, why should I bother?" He gestured for his man to read the emperor's order. The man unfolded the roll of paper. "General Marcus Acacius! You are under arrest by order of Emperor Caracalla! Your charges are; placing men in front of the emperor's house to spy on him, to command the armies for your own benefit, attempting to murder a member of the senate, abusing the title of general, going behind the emperor's back.”

"Right," said Flavius, coming over to him. He held his gaze. “The Emperor wants to see you. He'll be the one to decide your fate.” He approached him. “Just as he will decide your wife's fate.” He grinned with his teeth.

In a blink of an eye, Marcus grabbed his throat with both hands. “What did you just say?”

The guards half-drew their swords and took up attack positions. Octavius and Aris gripped the hilt of their swords in response.

"Speak, or I'll rip your neck out!" he roared, his fingers gripping his throat tighter. Flavius seemed amused.

"Your wife, Aurelia, is a beautiful woman. I took her from the villa to Palatine Hill. I told you it was a strange night.”

Marcus punched him in the face and kicked him in the stomach, mad him fell to the ground. He then quickly drew his sword. In a flash he leapt on him and held his sharp sword to his neck. “If you say her name again, I'll cut your tongue off!” He barked. “Why did you take her there? Speak, damn you!” He was boiling with anger.

Flavius however seemed calm. “Don’t be a fool, Acacius, if you kill me now, you'll get nothing. I'm only doing my duty.”

Unfortunately it was true, he could kill him and all the guards one by one, but that would only result in a higher charge being brought against him. Furthermore, Marcus's primary concern was you. He had to make sure you were alright, which meant he had to go to Palatine Hill with them.

Flavius ignored the sharp sword pressing against his throat and laughed cruelly at him. “Revenge is a son of a whore, isn't it?”

 

 

Chapter 12: The First Kill

Sic Semper Tyrannis

"Thus always to tyrants."

Brutus.

 

"You never forget your first kill," Marcus once said. One evening, you were sitting together in that meadow just after finished your knife training. "I've had to kill many, dozens, thousands. Some I felt no remorse for, some I thought they deserved it, some I felt pity for, but their faces are blurred in my memory in time. However, I could never forget the face of the first one. Although I was young, I remember it clearly, even now. For some time the silhouette of his face continued to torment me, even preventing me from using my sword properly.”

He took a deep breath as his fingers ran through your golden hair. “It's a peculiar thing, hard to overcome, right then and there, when you take his life, everything changes; the ground you walk on, the air you breathe, all of it becomes your enemy.”

As you looked at your own hands which were stained with blood and trembling, his words reverberated in your mind. You glanced at the man you had just killed, lying still on the ground. He was right. Everything has changed, and it will never be the same again.

Two days ago…

The atmosphere on Palatine Hill was one of palpable tension as the city awaited for the new dawn. You were trying to figure out the best way to extricate yourself from this troubling situation when you were involuntarily brought here by the guards, at the behest of your Emperor half-brother. Walking from the great courtyard into the great hall, accompanied by Flavius and two guards, you noticed that several soldiers were being forced to their knees by the guards. It appeared as though they were awaiting something or someone. They were attired in black cloaks over their armour, and you were uncertain as to why they were regarding you with concern. Might they be Marcus's men? Could this be the reason why he did not return home? Could he have been here too? As these questions continued to arise in your mind, you headed for the large door and entered as the guards opened it for you.

Once you had entered the great hall, the man called Flavius took his leave, accompanied by a few of his men, for some reason. You were not particularly curious about where he went, because the moment you saw Caracalla's face, your tension level spiked. You never thought that one day you would be judged by him in this hall. Caracalla stood in the centre, in his usual place, with Macrinus right next to him. What a surprise! You could imagine the strings he had woven around your brother, effectively turning him into a puppet. Geta and his mother Julia were on the left side of the hall. On the floor was the body of a slave, lifeless and bleeding, felt a chill run through you. You averted your gaze. As soon as he saw you, Geta uttered a silent curse and looked at his brother with a look of anger. “Really, brother? I told you, Aurelia has nothing to do with this!”

Caracalla stared at you, ignoring his brother. You swallowed when you realised he was holding the vial you had sent for Geta. He held it up as if he wanted you to see it. His face showed signs of fatigue and redness, which you knew could cause this kind of effect.

You were trying to stay calm. But your eyes kept drifting to the body of the poor slave on the floor. Caracalla noticed. “Oh, forgive us for starting without you.” He laughed like a madman.

“I have to tell you that you are making a mistake, brother,” you said calmly. You were hoping he hadn't noticed the quaver in your voice. “The things you accuse me of. None of that is true.” You turned your head to Julia, who was looking at you as she always did, defiant and angry.

“Lady Domna asked me to poison you, as she well knows. And I refused."

“Or are you going to tell me our brother Geta's lies too?” Caracalla snapped.

"Not lies, you fool, I'm telling the truth!" Geta shouted. He then inhaled. "Our mother is responsible for this. I can assure you that neither I nor Aurelia attempted to poison you."

Julia looked at her son, her eyes wide in surprise.

"What about this then?" Caracalla indicated the vial in his hand. "Last week, I had this dream that you were trying to kill me, and you were all involved." He pointed his index finger at each of you in turn. Macrinus stood silently beside him, weighing up the situation.

"As I said, my mother found a poison that will kill you slowly, which is why you killed this slave just now!"

Caracalla looked down at the dead slave on the floor. "That's right," he muttered. "I did." Then he grinned.

He looked like he was really lost, which made you almost feel pity for him. Geta approached him, seemingly used to this situation. "I asked Aurelia for help, for you, brother."

"Hah! So you admit that you plotted together to kill me!”

Geta sighed. “No you silly! You know that Aurelia is a medicus, so she found out what poisoned you and made a concoction that will cure you.”

“Lies, lies, lies! You're always lying to me!” He shouted at him, then pursed his lips. Geta rolled his eyes.

That's when you heard some muttering coming from outside. You figured it must be the soldiers. Before you had a chance to react, someone called out 'General', the great door opened, and Marcus walked in. You weren't sure which was more shocking. Seeing Marcus there like that, Flavius gripping his arm like he was a criminal, the bruises and blood on his face, or the fact that he was only in his burgundy tunic? Your chest tightened and your breath caught in your throat. It was as if someone was squeezing it.

“Marcus!” you cried out. Your ringing voice filled every space in the great hall.

Without a second thought, you strode towards him. You grasped his face in your hands and gazed at his bruises with concern.

"Aurelia, tell me you're alright." He said, also concerned.

"I am. But you? What happened to your face?" You touched the edge of his eyebrow where the blood oozing from. You couldn't hold back the tears.

"There's no need to be concerned, my lady."

"General!" Caracalla said loudly. "Or should I just call you Marcus now? After all, you don't deserve the title."

"How do you mean?" you asked him, taking Marcus’ hand in yours.

"You are mad indeed, brother." Geta muttered. “General has nothing to do with this.”

“Shut the hell up! Enough with your lies!” Caracalla wagged a finger at him. Then he turned to you and Marcus.

"A husband and wife have decided to commit a crime together. That's quite romantic.” He gave a little sarcastic clap.

“What are you accusing him of?” you asked, a little sharply. “He's a general who's loyal to you. The person you should be accusing is right there with you!” You said, pointing at Macrinus.

“Aurelia,” Marcus warned, squeezing your hand.

Macrinus smirked smugly. "May I enquire as to the evidence on which you have based your conclusion, my lady?"

Caracalla butted in. "You're not in a position to accuse anyone." I'm the one who decides everyone's fate here.’ He turned to his mother. "I will commence with Lady Domna. Or should I say ‘Mother'?" he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Then he went to the slave lying lifeless on the floor, bent down and examined him as if he was seeing him for the first time. "You disobeyed me. As if that wasn't enough, you tried to poison me using this rat." He stood up and asked the guard next to him for his sword. Once he had it in his hand, he looked at its shiny surface as if he were talking to it. Julia tensed up. "I can't send you back there without knowing what you'll do. I'm sure you'll be back though. So you'll be charged under the Roman law.”

“Brother!” Geta protested.

"I must protest! I'm the Empress, I can't be judged! I am your mother!" Julia yelled.

"That's why you are still breathing!" Caracalla barked. "You committed treason! I could kill you right now, but I won't! So, try to be greatful and don't speak another word!"

"It's a fair judgement, Your Majesty," Macrinus stated, pleased. You were certain that it was his opinion. After all, he had the majority of the Senate.

"Take Lady Domna to her room and keep her there until the trial," he ordered the guards.

The guards forcibly took her by the arm and led her out, despite her protests and shouting.

"As for you," he said, pointing at you and Geta.

"It would be best to simply let Aurelia go. I'm the one who asked her for help," he said, stepping between you and Caracalla.

Caracalla laughed. "How touching! What have you done to my brother, Aurelia?" His eyes shifted to you. Marcus clenched his jaw. The atmosphere in the hall was getting tense. "Well, here's the thing; she's the one who made this concoction, after all."

"It's not poison, on the contrary, it's a herbal remedy that will heal you." You explained.

Caracalla approached you and handed you the vial, pointing the sword he held in his other hand at you. "Prove it, then. Drink."

Marcus became visibly tense. Geta turned his head towards you. You swallowed hard. There was no harm in drinking the concoction you had made, you wouldn't have been afraid to drink it, only if you hadn't been carrying a child. "I can not," you suddenly said, closing your eyes and bowing your head.

Caracalla laughed hysterically. You exchanged a look with Marcus, you knew he understood why.

Geta turned to you, leaned in, “Aurelia, what are you-“

"I can't because I'm with child." You said. "The mixture could harm the child."

Everyone looked at you, and there was a brief period of silence. "How can I be sure you're not lying to me?" Caracalla asked.

Geta shifted his gaze to your belly, then turned to Caracalla and snatched the vial from his hand. "Give me the damn thing," he said and uncorked the bottle and drank the whole thing without thinking.

Everyone was looking at him in surprise. He threw the vial on the floor and looked Caracalla in the eye, who stared back at him with his mouth open. Geta licked his lips, spread his arms wide. "Look at me, brother! I am still alive, aren't I?" He smirked.

Caracalla looked at him, then at you, narrowing his eyes. This time he pointed his sword at Geta. "You two, you must be playing tricks on me."

"That's nonsense!" Geta yelled. Caracalla shook his head as if he had heard something. "No, a lie is always a lie. I refuse to believe it." The sword slipped and fell to the floor as he covered his ears with his hands. He stepped back. Macrinus approached him and whispered something in his ear.

"I think that's all we need for now. As you can see, Aurelia is completely innocent." Geta said.

"No way!" Caracalla spoke up. "She'll be staying here until this is resolved." He and Macrinus exchanged glances. He then looked at you. "I've decided that she needs to stay under home detention here at Domus Severiana."

"I must protest!" you said, loudly. Marcus gave you a little tap on the shoulder to calm you down.

“My decision is final!” He yelled at you then turned to Geta. “So I'll have you tried for high treason, and I'll have you deposed from the title of emperor."

“You can't do that!” Geta interjected.

“Just watch me!” He gave him a stern look.

Geta clenched his fists.

"As for you, Acacius," Caracalla said, pointing his finger at Marcus this time. "There won't be a trial for you. I've got other plans. "In fact, I should have you beheaded or thrown off the Tarpeian rock.”

(Tarpeian rock: A steep cliff on the south side of the Capitoline Hill that was used in Ancient Rome as a site of execution. Murderers, traitors, perjurors, and larcenous slaves, if convicted by the quaestores parricidii, were flung from the cliff to their deaths.)

"For what offence?" Your body was shaking.

"Treason of course!" He shouted.

Macrinus intervened. "Your Majesty, your people respect or General Acacius and they have made great hero out of him. It would be unwise to have him executed. You might draw the public's ire to yourself. Angering them will only work against you."

"How do you mean? Should I let him walk free, Macrinus?" Caracalla shouted at him angrily.

Macrinus looked at Marcus. "No, of course not. I just want to say that there are other ways that the public will be satisfied with. And you of course, Your Majesty."

"And what are those ways, I wonder?”

You were getting nervous as he spoke, what was he planning?

“Games,” he said. “We could set up some fighting games, and Acacius could fight in the Colosseum to win his freedom.”

“No way!” You let out a cry of protest.

"Why do you object, or you do not trust your husband's fighting strength?" Caracalla enquired with a hint of irony. "It is a good decision, Macrinus I liked it."

You looked at Marcus. But he was staring at Caracalla. "What about my men? I demand their release, Your Majesty. They have nothing to do with my treachery." Marcus said the word treachery through clenched teeth.

"I deny it, Acacius! They are as guilty as you are, and they will take their share of your punishment and fight along with you in the Colosseum!"

"Your Majesty, I suggest that you reconsider this!" Marcus said loudly.

"Shut up!" Caracalla approached him. "That dusty ground of the Colosseum will become your grave, you will lose your reputation, your name will be forgotten! I will burn your villa to the ground with your slaves inside! And your wife Aurelia..." He eyed you up and down. "She will be confined for the rest of her life! Do you hear me?"

He gestured to Flavius, who grabbed you by the arm and pulled you away from Marcus.

"Don't you dare to touch her!" Marcus lunged towards him but the guards grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back hard.

"Marcus!" You reached for him, but Flavius was holding your arm tightly.

"Take your hands off the Princess now!" Geta shouted too, but Flavius ignored him.

“My name may be forgotten, but your name will be remembered with hatred for generations to come!” Marcus roared. “You will face the hatred of your people! Your reign will come to an end!”

“Get him out of my sight!” Caracalla shouted. “Throw him in one of the pits in the Colosseum with all his men!”

"No, please! Brother please!" You begged. Tears welled up in your eyes.

He didn't care.

“MARCUS!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as the guards dragged him out. Flavius then released you, but couldn't feel your legs and collapsed. Geta crouched, put his arm around your shoulder, you rested your head on his chest, sobbing, crying.

“Lock them in their rooms, I want two men at every door!” You weren't looking at Caracalla, but you knew he was talking about you and Geta.

—-

First day of the games.

The Colosseum was host to a game that was somewhat unique today. The announcement of the accusation and sentence of General Marcus Acacius had been made public, and many people had gathered here in the early hours. It would be fair to say that the vast majority viewed this man as a hero. The loud shouts of the crowd mingled with the sound of drums and trumpets. For the first time, Marcus was not pleased to hear his name shouted by the crowd, despite being aware of their admiration. The reason was straightforward: his wife Aurelia was absent from the Imperial stand. They had taken her away from him. Caracalla and Geta were seated in their customary positions. It appeared that Caracalla wished to keep his brother, who had committed treason, close by.

However, Geta, like Marcus, was even less enthusiastic about being there for the first time. As Marcus and his soldiers saluted them before the fight commenced, Geta and he locked eyes. If only I could hear him at this distance, he thought. I wish he would tell me something about Aurelia. Then Geta nodded at him as if he could read something his mind. ‘She's alright,’ he mimicked with his lips. And that was it! That was enough for Marcus to feel strong and defeat everyone and everything in the arena. On top of that, he had his most trusted men with him this time, his soldiers. They'd fought side by side on the battlefield, and they were ready to do the same here.

"Octavius!" Marcus called out. He gave him a heads-up about the barbarian warrior coming up behind him. Octavius dodged the attack and, led by Marcus, they all took up an attacking position, targeting one barbarian warrior and quickly overcoming them. There were just two barbarians left. Marcus signaled to his soldiers to stay back and calmly took a step forward, challenging the remaining barbarians with his outstretched arm. They both charged towards him with their swords but missed. Marcus expertly dodged their attacks and cut them with his sharp sword. The crowd went wild. Geta laughed and applauded. For the first time, Caracalla responded to his laughter by cursing angrily. Marcus, with his sword bathed in a crimson red, made his way towards the barbarian, who was lying on the ground, apparently nearing the end of his life. He then looked at Caracalla.

Caracalla turned his thumb down. Marcus killed the barbarian with a swift move. As the crowd chanted Marcus' name, Caracalla sulked and sank into his seat. "Ugh! Too fast and too boring! Well, fortunately, this is a three-day game and we're only on day one."

"How exciting!" Geta teased.

Caracalla frowned and turned his head towards Macrinus who was already approaching. "Have your new gladiators arrived, Macrinus?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. They are preparing for tomorrow's game." He said, smiling at him.

"That's good. I hope tomorrow will bring the defeat of Acacius and his men." He looked at them with a hint of displeasure. Then he stood up. "Come, brother. It's time to leave."

Marcus was keeping an eye on them from a distance, his gaze shifting to Flavius, who was following behind them. He clenched his fists as he watched them until they were out of sight. He made a vow to himself. He was going to win these games, no matter what. He had to win the Emperor's approval to be free. Then he could leave here and get you to safety. After that, he could take care of Flavius and Macrinus. Even if he never became a general again, that would not matter to him. He did not believe that Caracalla would reinstate him, anyway. That night, staying in the same pit with the gladiators but in separate cells, he was thinking about all this and you.

—-

You spent the entire day in a state of mental and emotional distress, seeking solace through prayer. You were rather concerned about Marcus, eager to receive any news from him. However, the guards at the door of your room would never let you out. You hated this room. Never expected to feel this way about it, nor to return here in this way. While you watched the birds singing cheerfully outside the window, you felt a longing to be free like them. You were also concerned about those in the villa and you prayed for them too. However, Marcus was on your mind constantly. Nothing made sense without him. You were feeling lost, incomplete. In the evening there was a knock at the door. Geta's slave had brought dinner. The girl noticed that the food on the morning tray had not been touched. She looked at you with a concerned and sad expression.

"My lady, please try to eat a little."

"I do not feel hungry," you murmured.

She glanced at the guards and then looked back at you. "If you could do it for your child." The girl was a little too insistent in her tone. You turned to her. She gave you a nod with her head. She indicated the plate on the tray with a gesture. You noticed a piece of paper under the plate. Had someone wrote you a note? You looked at the guards. They were standing at the door and wouldn't let it close when the slave girl was inside. You had to come up with an excuse. "Alright then. I'll eat, but first you help me get dressed. I need to change my dress." you said loudly looking at the guards. "Close the door, I need to get dressed."

The guards nodded and obeyed. You immediately took the paper from the tray.

"Emperor Geta wrote to you," she said quietly.

"Or perhaps it is about Marcus?" you asked, opening the little paper.

"I am not quite sure, my lady. He's in a similar situation to you, confined in a way. I couldn't even speak to him properly." You could sense the sadness in her voice, you touched her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Do not you worry. I'm sure everything will be alright and we'll be released soon." You felt like you also convincing yourself desperately.

The girl replied with a smile.

You turned your gaze to the paper to read what Geta had written.

"My dear sister. I hope you're doing well. I'm really concerned about you, so it would be great if you send me a response. What do you think of this solution huh? You must think I'm pretty smart, you do not? Come now, be honest." -Even so, he still managed to make you smile- "Anyway, Acacius and his men fought well today. You should have seen Caracalla's face when they won the game. It looked like a little monkey's butt. Whatever. Acacius, he's fine, don't you worry about him. If he wins the next two games, he'll be free. And I'm quite sure he will. Oh, and you never told me you were carrying a child, which I'm still upset about. Well, take care of yourself and the child, and eat your food. I'm waiting for your secret response letter. We'll be free soon, I promise. Kisses.”

Sighing, you crumpled up the paper and put it in the wooden box, closing it up. Fortunately, he had some good news. You felt a little relieved. You then looked around your room for some paper and a pen. The girl whispered to you. "Here, my lady," she said, pulling out the ink, reed pen and paper she had tucked into her belt.

"You are really well prepared," you said, smiling at her. She giggled. You sat down and the girl helped you to write a reply for Geta.

"Brother, I'm alright, please don't worry.  I must say, this solution is really clever and I am very grateful for it. Many thanks for the good news about him. I hope we'll all be free soon. I know you won't get anywhere near Marcus, but if you get a chance, I'd appreciate it if you'd tell him I love him. Please look after yourself around Caracalla. I await your letter about tomorrow."

You handed the paper to the girl. She tucked it into her belt to deliver it to Geta.

—-

Day two of the Games.

The atmosphere in the Colosseum today was somewhat different from that of yesterday. It seemed that the crowd flocking to this giant structure was more enthusiastic today. 

Marcus and his soldiers were going over their plan of fight while sharpening their swords. A tougher fight awaited them today. The gladiators were well trained, but unlike them, this was their first time in the Colosseum. Before long, the drums started beating and they were announced.

“Honos et Virtus! (Honor and virtue!) For freedom!” They shouted together, tapping each other on the shoulder. With swords drawn, they made their way to the arena, accompanied by the sound of drums and  the enthusiastic cheering of the crowd. It was pretty unlikely that they could pull off a fight like this on such short notice. But since Caracalla had declared them criminals, he'd ordered that there should be no interruption, one day after another. No matter how strong or experienced they were, it wasn't something an ordinary soldier could take easily. However, losing wasn't an option for Marcus. He encouraged them accordingly and spurred them on. Before start, and saluting emperor, Geta and Marcus shared a look that was just like yesterday. Marcus smiled in response to Geta's positive gestures.

“Oh, this is so ridiculous,” Geta muttered. “I feel like I'm flirting with a girl.”

“What was that? What did you say?” Caracalla leaned in towards him.

“Nothing, just thinking out loud.”

“And you call me mad.”

“But you are,” Geta said. “You're treating me like a caged animal. Locking me when I've done nothing wrong.”

"Be glad I didn't kill you," said Caracalla arrogantly. "Since I've tried it before and I can do it again."

"What did you say?" Geta looked at him with wide eyes.

Caracalla laughed. "If Aurelia hadn't saved you that night, you'd be with the Gods now. You would be dead."

Geta preferred to look at him in astonishment rather than watch the game. Of course, he had thought about it, but he could not digest his cold-blooded confession. At that moment he realised that everything was in vain. That he still saw him as his brother, that he respected him a little. To go to Aurelia for him. Suddenly he found himself feeling guilty. Tasting these new feelings, he set himself a goal: to kill him. No matter what, today or tomorrow. He had to die.

While Geta was planning to kill Caracalla somehow, Marcus and his soldiers kept up the fight against the gladiators. Despite the gladiators outnumbering them, they were able to prevail over them by watching each other's backs and acting in a spirit of brotherhood. Caracalla gave a thumbs up, decided that the remaining gladiators be to live. That came as a surprise to everyone. Macrinus seemed really pleased, and Geta noticed. They all had some injuries, including Marcus himself, but they weren't too severe. Marcus had a small scratch on his cheek. Octavius had a cut on his calf, and the others had cuts on their arms and legs. They were also pretty tired. They were in need of a rest, but they knew that Emperor Caracalla wouldn't let them. That night, as Marcus examined his brothers' wounds, he was filled with concern for the following day. It was possible that Caracalla and Macrinus had something big in store for the final day.

It was just after midnight when the sound of the iron gates opening was carried away on the breeze that had picked up the dust from the stone walls. Marcus and the others were soon aware that Cato and a soldier were approaching, and they rose to their feet immediately.

"Cato! It's Cato, sir!" Octavius said in a cheerful manner.

Marcus grasped the iron bars. "Cato? What are you doing here?"

Cato looked sad. "Sir, I am very truly saddened by all this."

"Cease weeping now, Cato," Octavius chastised him.

"Have you heard anything from the villa?"

Cato shook his head slowly. Octavius was growing impatient and reached his arm through the iron bars and grabbed his collar. “Speak!"

Marcus touched his shoulder as a warning. Cato took a deep breath. "Sir, when I went to the villa, I found that it had unfortunately been plundered, the soldiers you had positioned there had been murdered.”

Marcus slammed his palm against the iron bars in frustration.

“What about the others? The slaves?” Octavius asked.

"I'm not sure, but none of them were there."

"They must have been detained." Marcus hissed. "Along with all my property, everything I have."

Octavius kicked the bars angrily.

“I was watching Palatine Hill, the Domus Severiana,” Cato said. Marcus looked at him. Cato continued. “Lady Aurelia, I couldn't see her, but I'm certain that she's there.”

"She's under home detention," Marcus said his voice cracked. "Keep watching there. I need to find out how often Flavius and his guards go there and what they do. I need you to keep an eye on things for me until I get out of here. Can you do that?"

He nodded. "Yes, sir!"

The soldier who'd been keeping an eye on the corridor during the conversation came over to them. "Sir, General, I need to get Cato out of here before the guards at the gate realise."

Marcus nodded. "I am indebted to you." He said, and the soldier nodded in respect. Then he turned to Cato. "Cato, be cautious. Whatever you do, don't let Flavius notice you.”

"Yes, sir. I'll pray for you to win tomorrow," he said, looking at each of them. He threw his arms up. "Hodie Ruditapes Leo!' (Today the lion roars!)"

"Hodie Ruditapes Leo!' (Today the lion roars!)" They all repeated, their smiles confident and assured.

—-

As you read Geta's note that evening, you noticed a difference in his writing style compared to the previous day. It seemed more serious. You were curious as to why and felt a little frustrated that you were not allowed to talk to him freely. Yet, you were really grateful to him for coming up with this solution.  It was like he'd given you a breath of air when you felt like you were stuck in this room. Fortunately, there was more good news. Marcus and his soldiers had won. The only thing left to do was get through tomorrow. If Marcus were to emerge victorious from the games tomorrow, it would mean that Caracalla would no longer have the authority to detain him. So maybe you could be freed and return to the villa together before the trial. You had to find out what happened there and see if everyone was well. In accordance with the law, everything you have to be confiscated, including your slaves. It might even be the case that they could have been sold to other people. The mere thought of that made your chest hurt. However, this is not a possibility at such short notice, and certainly not before a decision has been made by the court.

Sitting on the large bed, illuminated by the moonlight that filtered through the long window, you read the short note that Geta had sent you, thinking of him as you traced your thumb over the word 'Marcus'.

You sensed that he was thinking of you too. Actually you were certain. You implored Jupiter, as you rubbed your belly with a hand over it. "Please, my lord. I beseech you. I pray that you spare him to me, to our child. Be his constant companion and his strength in fight, refuge in every adversity. Guide him, my lord, that he may return to me safely."

—-

Day three of the Games.

Present day.

"Remember, we have to win no matter what. If we lose, we will not only lose our lives, but our families, their future and reputation."

They nodded, but their eyes betrayed their doubts. Some of them were exhausted and deeply wounded. Marcus knew that if one lost, they all would. He had to give them what they needed: strength and courage.

“Brothers, do you remember those words I spoke to you two years ago on the Libyan front?”

They looked at each other and nodded in aggrement. He went over to the soldier who was struggling the most and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I mentioned a dark place inside us, a place that can give you strength even when you feel you have none left. You're injured and you're feeling drained. It was just like that day. We were outnumbered that day and it looked like we were going to lose. I don't think any other army would have been able to win with such a small number of people. But we managed to beat the odds and find a way to win. We'll do the same today." He went over to another soldier and looked at him. He had a wound on his arm. "Now I want you to discover that dark place inside you. He turned to another soldier. "Felix. I see you're badly wounded in the leg. Does it hurt?"

The soldier looked at his leg. "Yes, sir."

"Do you feel that place? Do you hear that voice screaming at you that you're going to lose?"

He lowered his head. "Yes, sir.”

"Do you think you can run from here to the gate? Or will it make the wound in your leg worse?"

He looked at him uncertainly. "It could be a lot worse, sir."

"That's not the answer I'm seeking, Felix!" he shouted at him. “When you get to the arena, you'll need to run and be quick. The warriors trying to kill you there will jump on you to finish you off as soon as they realise that you're scared.” He gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Our mind rules our body and it rules this dark place! It cannot direct the body of one who is afraid! Because he is doomed to lose. When you die over there, you will only lose your life. Your family however, will lose their citizenship and be known as the family of a traitor. Your friends will lose a brother. I will lose a good soldier! Now, tell me, will you confront that dark place, face your fears, fight along with us to win?" Marcus looked into his eyes. Felix inhaled and nodded firmly. “I will, sir!”

Marcus smiled. "Good. I trust that you will. From now on, it doesn't matter what you like or don't like, what you're upset about, what you think you've been wronged, your fears, your anxieties, nothing matters." Marcus raised his index finger. "Only one thing matters: Survival. Now tell me. Will you fight by my side and survive? Are you with me?"

The soldiers looked at each other and nodded, and then they all drew their swords and raised them.

"We're with you, sir!"

"Yes sir!"

They all shouted in unison with enthusiasm. Marcus raised his sword. “Vae Victis!”

The soldiers repeated it back to him. The sound of their voices echoed off the stone walls. A little later, the sound everyone was waiting for was heard! The iron gates opened with a loud noise as their names were announced. The sound of drums, pipes, the voices of the crowd, whistles and applause filled the air. Everyone was brimming with excitement as they sat in their seats at the Colosseum, eager for the final game day. Geta and Caracalla were sitting in their usual seats. Macrinus came up to emperor and whispered something in his ear. Geta tried to focus on what he was saying, but the noise made it difficult to hear.

"Today will be the end of Acacius." Caracalla said to Geta, in an excited tone.

"You speak too precisely, brother. They've only just begun!

“This is the end! There's no doubt about it." He snapped. "His end. He is going to die today.” His hands were shaking. Geta squinted at his hands then his face. “I will get rid of him no matter what.”

At that moment, Geta became aware that something was being planned. He was fairly certain that Macrinus and Flavius were involved. But what could it be? He considered the option of killing his brother at that moment. However, he was unable to give orders to the guards.  He knew his own end was near. Just after Marcus. Maybe even yours. Caracalla was completely lost. He has to be the one to die today, but how? Geta thought.

Marcus and his men were in fine spirits as they engaged in combat with the gladiators who had previously fought and whose lives Caracalla had graciously spared. However, before long, two hatches opened on the ground of the arena, and a loud roar was heard as two tigers suddenly appeared. Caracalla was visibly amused and expressed his approval with a hearty laugh and a clap of his hands. The crowd expressed their delight with enthusiastic shouts.

“Where did these tigers come from?” Geta was rather puzzled.

"Didn't you like my surprise?'"

"I thought we'd run out of wild animals?" Geta grunted.

"And I thought we could make do with these until the rhino was brought in. They were only brought in last week. Macrinus went to great lengths to get them from Libya."

Geta squinted at him. "I am sure he did.”

Marcus got his men together and gave them a few strategies. After all, none of them had ever fought tigers, so they tried to stay calm. The gladiators had a similar plan of action. The two groups were ready to attack each other, using the tigers as a dangerous tool. The gladiators advanced towards them with shields and spears. Marcus and his soldiers numbered six. Gladiators were four. However, one of the gladiators was so enormous that he could easily be counted as two men. Marcus had given his men another tactic about him: attack his leg first, so they could finish him off as soon as he fell to the ground. That was it. A moment later, Octavius lunged at his leg with his sword. And managed to cut deeply. Before long, the other soldier did the same, and the big man collapsed on the ground. But not before he'd punched them in the stomach and face. During the attack, Marcus lost one soldier, leaving him with five remaining. The battle was so intense that it was difficult to catch your breath. Everyone was exhausted and trying to outwit the enemy while dodging the claws and teeth of the tigers, which was harder than ever. After one intense battle, Marcus and his soldiers were down to four. As he saw the exhaustion on their faces, Marcus felt the first stirrings of fear. But he persevered and fought on. He managed to cut down one of the gladiators and one of the tigers.

The crowd went wild with excitement. His success gave the remaining soldiers the encouragement they needed to keep fighting with everything they had. And soon the cries of victory were heard in the arena. The gladiators were all defeated by the glorious Roman soldiers and their General. The crowd cheered his name with delight. They gave each other a big hug and saluted the crowd.

And, It all happened so quickly.

"Now!" Caracalla shouted angrily. Geta turned his head towards Flavius, who raised his arm and looked at something, then lowered it as he gave an order to someone in the crowd. Out of the blue, Marcus was hit in the arm by a bolt from nowhere. If Octavius hadn't been a bit closer, it would probably have gone through his throat. Marcus let out a cry of pain. The crowd fell silent. Geta got to his feet. Caracalla looked at him, his hands clasped in delight.  He laughed wildly. The soldiers called out to their general. Then they quickly looked in the direction of the bolt. It was someone planted in the audience. It was against the rules. It was completely unacceptable. Caracalla was determined to see Marcus dead, so he came up with this plan.

However, he was soon disappointed to see that Marcus had broken the bolt and pulled it out of his arm. He was seething with rage. The soldiers picked up shields from the ground and formed a protective circle around their general. The crowd caught the attacker with the crossbow and beat him up. Caracalla got really angry and swore as he saw his plan fail. Geta looked at him and laughed cruelly.

Caracalla looked at him angrily and stood up. The crowd was chanting Marcus's name.

“I think that’s enough. Now It's time to set him free, brother. He has well earned it.”

He was aware of it. He looked at Flavius and the other guards and, with some reluctance, gave the order to open the great iron gate. Octavius, who was holding Marcus's arm, looked at him with concern.

"Sir, it looks like you've got a bit of a rough injury."

"No need to worry about my wound, brother. We survived. We won! That's all that matters." He smiled.

The soldiers looked at him. 'We won, sir!' Marcus gave them a tap on the shoulder, one by one. "I'm proud of you all."

Before long, the iron gate opened and Caracalla entered the arena as his name was announced. Geta was right behind him.  Marcus' smile faded. He considered grabbing the pugio from the ground, as this could be his only opportunity to kill him. However, if things did not go as planned, it could have unfortunate consequences. Besides, he had to think about his soldiers as well. At his command, they all dropped their swords and bowed their heads.

“Acacius, you really are a hard man to kill. You put me in a dilemma.”

He also noticed the pugio on the ground, covered in blood and dust. If he could get to it, he might be able to kill his brother right there and then. But he shouldn't let on. He glanced over at Marcus. He could see right through what he was up to.  He looked at the guards, who numbered eight. Could he take them down? No, he'd have to be declared free first. He decided to wait.

Geta bent down and picked up the pugio.

“Would you like one of the tiger's teeth, brother?” he said, looking at Caracalla, trying hard to hide his intentions.

Caracalla gave a shrug and seemed confused. “Alright, but first I must announce the verdict the people are waiting for.”

Marcus and Geta exchanged glances. And the decision has been made.

Caracalla cleared his throat and announced his decision in a voice the crowd could hear. “Marcus Acacius! By the authority of Roman law, I declare you free!”

The crowd cheered and whistled. They began to chant Caracalla's name. Caracalla held up his hand and signalled for them to be silent.

"But you're not a Roman general anymore. You're not even serving in the military any longer. You'll be exiled. You'll lose all your authority and you'll have to live outside Rome for the rest of your life."

The crowd suddenly fell silent, and after a few murmurs, people started to protest.

“General! General! General! General! General! General!”

“Silence! You filthy rats! How dare you? I shall kill all of you!” Caracalla yelled at them.

It all happened so fast. Geta threw the pugio at Marcus while Caracalla looking at the crowd. He skilfully grasped the pugio and slashed Caracalla's throat with a move faster than the wind. Nobody even noticed for the first few minutes because it happened so fast. As soon as blood spurted from the cut on Caracalla's throat, he instinctively pressed his hands as if to make the wound stop bleeding.

His sapphire-coloured fancy toga, his golden necklace, all soaked with his own blood flowing between fingers through. He fell to the dusty ground as he collapsed lifelessly to his knees. His blood was leaking slowly, pooling around his lifeless body. Geta took the pugio from Marcus' hand and looked the guards in the eye, who had taken up their attacking positions.

"The tyrant emperor is dead! I am the only emperor! As a tyrant, his rules are null and void!"

This was indisputably the case. The rules of the emperor, who had been legally declared a tyrant with the approval of the Senate, were therefore legally invalid. Geta had planned well, and the people were happy about it. After all, they were now shouting his name. Even when the blood continued to flow from his brother's lifeless body. Now he has to convince the council next. Marcus and his soldiers bowed their heads to him. The guards too. Then Marcus's eyes shift to the imperial tribune, he tensed up when he couldn't see Flavius or Macrinus there.

"Your Majesty, I need to know if your sister, my wife Aurelia, is still at Palatine Hill."

“Yes,” Geta said, also looking at the tribune. He turned his head to Marcus, his eyes wide. “That cunt Macrinus and his filthy dog Flavius.” He hissed.

Marcus looked at his soldiers. “Octavius, you are with me. The others will remain with Emperor Geta to ensure his safety and protection."

Geta tapped Marcus on the shoulder. "Acacius, there is no need for concern about my safety now. Go and ensure my sister is safe."

Marcus nodded nervously. Quickly, he and Octavius made their way towards the iron gate to leave the Colosseum.

——

Macrinus strode purposefully down the steps of the Colosseum, determined to catch up with Flavius. He looked around and saw that people on the streets were talking about Caracalla's death with great enthusiasm.

“Sir Flavius! Where do you think you're going?” Macrinus shouted at him.

They were both furious. "Tell your men to move now! We need to act fast while he's still in there."

Flavius grabbed his horse's reins. "I don't care about Emperor Geta! You told me Acacius would die there today!"

“Your man couldn't shoot him, so that's not my fault! Now is the time to take down Geta as we planned. We must finish him before he is officially proclaimed. Then, when I ascend the throne, I will finish Acacius myself, just as I promised you.”

"Your perfect plan didn't do shit!" He barked.

"I made you Prateon Prefect! I gave you  power!" Macrinus shouted.

Flavius shook his head. "I don't give a damn about your throne or the power you gave me! You promised you'd finish Acacius, but you couldn't. Our deal is off. "I'll finish him myself!" He leapt onto his horse. Macrinus was enraged.

"What the hell are you talking about? Where are you going?”

"I was wrong to go along with your stupid plan. I am going to do what I should have done all along. I'll take away what's most precious to him. Then he'll learn what loss means."

Macrinus was taken aback when he realised what he was talking about. 'No! You cannot!' "I need Princess Aurelia. Don't you dare touch her!"

"I will have my revenge with or without you!" He yelled, kicked his horse forward.

Macrinus called a few of the guards to his side and ordered them to follow him.

—-

It was the afternoon, you were resting in bed, nervously awaiting, hoping for good news. Then there was a noise, a clinking of swords, and you heard the guards at the door hurrying away. The sound of their metal armour echoed with every footstep. You approached the door to see what was happening. As soon as you opened the door, you saw Geta's slave rushing to your side.

"My lady. You must leave immediately. Come with me." She grasped your hand and pulled you with her.

"What's going on?"

She put her finger to her lips. "We have to be quiet. I'll tell you."

As soon as you stepped into the courtyard, she pulled you towards the corner and guided you to hide behind the wall. You peeked out and noticed Flavius.

“They're looking for you.” She whispered.

Before you could ask anything the girl tugged you by the hand again. The other slaves noticed, rushing towards you.

"This way, my lady."

"Why are they looking for me? Or has something happened to Marcus?”

"I am not sure, my lady. The Commander of the Guard has just killed three of his men. They attempted to prevent him from entering. I heard them talking about you. You must leave before he notices you."

Your heart was beating fast. Your throat felt dry. As you approached the entrance door, you saw three of the guards were lying on the floor covered in blood.

"My Lady!” A familiar voice called out to you.

You looked in that direction and saw Cato, who was waiting for you outside the entrance door, holding the reins of a horse. You looked around for Marcus, but he was not there.

“Stop right there!”

You gasped when you heard Flavius's loud voice.

"My Lady, get on the horse now!" Cato drew his sword, staring at Flavius as he ran towards you.

"Cato, I-" Your voice cracked.

"You are the one he wants! Just go!"

You nodded, tears in your eyes, and quickly climbed onto the horse, kicking it forward.

When you looked back, you saw Cato taking up a defensive position. You tried to hold back your tears and gripped the horse's reins tighter. You had no idea where you were supposed to go. But it seemed a bad idea to head into the city and the streets, after all he was the commander of the guards and they were everywhere. So you rode on a road that led straight out of city center. You turned your head and looked back again. It didn't look like anyone was coming after you, but you had to be sure. After a while you heard drums and an announcement: “Be aware! Emperor Caracalla is dead! He is dead! He is dead!” You slowed your horse down.

How? When? You asked yourself in shock. And what about Marcus? Why isn't anyone talking about him?

People were looking at you with curiosity as you were a little bewildered and trying to figure out what to do. Before you knew it, you heard the sound of a horse's neigh coming behind you and people screamed. You looked back and saw Flavius on his horse, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. As you pulled the reins in a hurry, your bracelet caught on the fabric of your dress and slipped off your wrist, falling to the ground, causing a tinkling sound. The bracelet was precious to you, but you had to keep going. You just couldn't let him catch you.

You decided to ride the horse into the woods, with the intention of disappearing from view. As Flavius followed you, he saw Cato catching up with him. He drew his sword, turned his horse around and struck Cato with the sword. Cato fell to the ground, screaming in pain. The sword had hit his armour, so he wasn't dead, but he was frustrated. The distance between you and him had grown, and you were feeling pretty tired, so you decided to get off your horse and go through the trees to get to the other side of the city and the Colosseum. But it was a long way to walk. As soon as you heard Flavius' horse, you started running. He saw your silhouette and grinned.

"So you want to play tag, eh, princess?" He dismounted. "You should be aware of that, though. It's my favourite game." He drew his sword, following the tracks you left.

It was really hard to move through the forest without making a sound, especially with the long stola you were wearing. You kept tripping over thorns and bushes as you walked. As he was good at tracking, Flavius was following you calmly, smiling at every crunching noise you made.He crouched down to observe a trail on the ground. "If you surrender now, I promise I won't hurt you.” He grinned cruelly.

You were shaking with fear and trying to calm yourself down. You grabbed the fabric of your stola, pulled it up and tucked it into the belt around your waist, exposing your ankles but at least allowing you to move forward without making a sound. You soon came across a large, thick clump of bushes right next to a puddle. A tree root had created a small cave-like hollow in the soil. You decided to take shelter there because you were really tired. You took your knife out, picked it up, remained still, waited in silence.

——

Upon arriving at Palatine Hill, Marcus was met with a gruesome scene: the guards and slaves lying lifeless on the ground. He was too late. Then he saw the slave girl running towards him. She was wounded, but managed to inform them and showed them the direction you were headed. Without a moment's hesitation, Marcus and Octavius mounted their horses and rode off in that direction.

"They must have gone out of the city. I think we should go that way," Octavius said.

"I will head there! We must split-up! You ride down the city, in case of the unexpected!" Marcus pointed down the street.

"Yes, sir!" Octavius rode his horse down the road.

Marcus was just about to kick his horse into a trot when he noticed some children playing with a gold bracelet. It looked familiar. He jumped off his horse, approached them and grabbed it. He knew this bracelet well, because he was the one who gave it to you.

"Where did you get this, child?" he asked one of them.

The child pointed ahead and Marcus rub child's head, then quickly got back on his horse and rode in that direction.

——

“Princess? Where are you hiding? You know I'll find you eventually. And when I do…”

That sick bastard, you thought. You were glad he didn't sound close. You decided that going the other way would be a better idea. Waiting here was pointless. It made you feel like you were caught in a trap. Just as you were about to stand up, you heard a hissing sound and your eyes widened in shock as you saw a snake ahead. You covered your mouth with your hand to stop yourself screaming. You jumped back. You had to kill the snake before Flavius saw you. You knew he would see you if you stood up. You held your knife tight, aiming at the snake. You missed on your first try but stabbed it the second time. You felt sick, both from the blood flowing from the snake and from this overwhelming feeling of fear.

With your survival instinct, an idea came to your mind. The snake was a viper, which is known to be highly poisonous. Even though it was dead, there was still venom in its fangs. You knew how to get the venom since you'd already produced antivenom many times before, but it was too dangerous with bare hands. You tore the fabric from the hem of your dress, wrapped it around your hand and pressed the dead snake's head to open its mouth and extract the venom from its fangs. The venom was leaking out in a bright yellowish colour. You held your breath and applied the venom to the surface of your knife. You weren't sure how, but you had to cut Flavius somewhere on his body with this knife.

"Found you!"

You froze. His voice was right behind you. Just as you were about to run forward, he grabbed you by the hair and yanked hard. You let out a cry of pain. He yanked your hair harder, turning you to face him.

"I told you to surrender, princess." He grinned.

You lunged at his exposed arm with your knife. He wasn't expecting you to have a knife, so he was caught off guard and you managed to cut him. Flavius let out a cry of pain, and when he released your hair, you took the opportunity to step back. He realised it wasn't just a normal cut when he started rubbing it with his hand. The poison had mixed with his blood and caused him terrible pain as it spread through his veins. He groaned loudly and then looked at you angrily.

“You whore!” He grabbed you by the arm and hit you hard in the face. You stumbled backward and fell. You crawled away from him with all your strength. “I said I wouldn't hurt you, but I changed my mind.”

He grabbed your hair again, yanked, turned you around, so he was right on top of you.  His weight made it difficult for you to breathe. "I'm really going to hurt you. A lot." Flavius was running his pugio over your face. You felt the sharp edge of the knife against your skin as you fought against him.

A horse neighed loudly in the distance and you both looked in that direction. He uttered a curse and raised his pugio to stab you. Then, you heard footsteps running towards you, and a familiar angry roar, then Marcus appeared and jumped on Flavius, pushing his body off you. They rolled on the grass. After his weight lifted off of you, you took a deep breath and looked at them. They were locked in a fierce struggle, punching each other with groans.

Marcus drew his pugio and stabbed him in the leg, then punched him in the face. He quickly got on top of him and started hitting him in the face again and again. Flavius was struggling to breathe, but he managed to hit the wound on his arm. Marcus groaned in pain. He seized the opportunity to kick him. This time Marcus was on the ground. You were shaking, but you had to think fast. As soon as you realised your knife was on the ground, you ran to it. You snatched it and forced yourself to remember the attack moves Marcus had taught you before. You lunged, aiming for Flavius' neck, who was punching Marcus in the face. Marcus hit Flavius with his elbow and realised you were approaching.

“Aurelia!” he shouted, holding out his hand as if to stop you.

Flavius had his pugio in his hand and could have cut you down in an instant. But you were the first to act. As soon as he turned his head towards you, you stabbed him in the throat with your knife. His eyes widened in surprise as blood gushed from the open cut in his throat onto your face, your clothes and your hands. He reached for the knife, grasping it as if he intended to pull it out. But he was wheezing and choking on his own blood as he tried to breathe. You stared at him, your eyes wide with shock. Marcus's voice sounded muffled to your ears. He shook you by the shoulders, but you were completely numb and paralysed. As Flavius' lifeless body collapsed to the ground, you looked at your hands. They were red and wet. Your gaze fell upon Flavius' body again. The blood flowing out of his throat was slow, the effect of the poison, you thought.

Marcus took your face in his hands. Seeing the faint smile on his face, feeling his touch on your skin, your body came back to life.

“Aurelia my love? Are you alright? Speak please, say anything.” He sounded concerned.

“M. Marcus, I... I killed him.” You mumbled.

Marcus wrapped his arms tightly around you.

“Shhh, I know.” He whispered. His hands ran through your hair which was smeared with blood in some places. He rubbed your head and kissed over and over, exhaling with relief. Then he looked at you once more, his eyes holding yours in a gaze that was both intense and unwavering. "It's over, my love. You are safe now." He wiped the blood from your face with his fingers. He kissed your temple and touched his forehead to yours. You stayed like that for a while. Then you heard horses neighing in the distance.

“Sir!”

Octavius and Cato leapt off their horses and ran to you.

"Are you alright, my lady? Sir?" Octavius asked. His eyes then travelled over Flavius' body.

“We are now,” Marcus answered for you.

Octavius moved towards Flavius' body and spat a curse at him.

"Cato, give me a hand," Marcus said, and he helped you to your feet, but your legs were shaking. He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you into his arms. Cato held the horse's reins to keep it still. He approached the horse and carefully helped you on. Then he climbed on and settled behind you. He pulled you against his chest and grasped the horse's reins. "Hang in there, my love," he said firmly. Accompanied by Octavius and Cato, he rode slowly toward Palatine Hill.

 

 

Chapter 13: The Missing

“Amor gignit amorem.”

Love begets love.

 

Blood. All you could see was blood. It was all over the place. The mountains, the trees, the rocks, even the waterfall cascading ahead – everything was bathed in a crimson hue, covered in blood. The smell of blood filled the air as if it had obliterated all other odors. You tried to run away from this ominous place, but you realized that your feet were stuck in red mud like a swamp. The more you moved, the deeper you sank. You screamed for help, but no one heard, no one came. When you were up to your neck in the mud, you gasped for breath and screamed for the last time before the red mud swallowed you.

“Aurelia?”

The voice you knew so well echoed in your ears and then around you. The voice made mud disperse, allowing you to resume breathing.

"Aurelia?" He called out again, and you opened your eyes.

Marcus's face, beautiful in its own way, was right before you. Once you realized that he was looking at you with his brown eyes, the effect of the nightmare you had seen turned to dust and scattered around and disappeared. Marcus pressed his fingers on your forehead. Were you sweating?

“My love? Are you alright?”

“I am. I think I had a nightmare.”

“I think so too.” He sounded a bit concerned. "Would you like to tell me?"

You shook your head, looking away. Marcus exhaled deeply. "Aurelia, my love, I want you to forget the story I shared about the first man I killed. It's not the same as what you did. You were simply protecting yourself. You didn't have a choice and you did the right thing. However, the man I killed, he was innocent. I was following orders, but that's no excuse. You do understand what I'm saying, do you not?”

He propped himself up on his elbow to get a better look at your face, cupping your chin and turning your face to his. He was dressed in a cream tunic, the moonlight filtering gently through the window behind him and falling on his shoulders and hair.

“I understand and I appreciate that, but it doesn't change the fact that I killed someone."

He took your hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed the top of it. “I'm glad you did it. You saved me and you. Or should I say all three of us?” He put his hand on your belly.

You smiled; it was a relief to hear him saying that.

You were momentarily taken aback to realize you were still in your room in Domus Severiana. When did you arrive? Did you sleep until nightfall? Your memory was hazy. The last thing you remember is killing someone and becoming a murderer.

"What are you thinking about now?" he asked, looking at you. His hair was bathed in the blue moonlight, however you were focused on the cut on his cheek.

“Why are we here?”

"You mean, you don't remember?"

You shook your head.

"Hmm, after... Well, we arrived here. You were a bit tired and looked like you needed a bath, we both were." He smirked.

Right, you both looked pretty clean compared to what you recalled from the last time. That's when you suddenly remembered how he'd undressed you and put you in the bath tube, how he cleaned you up until your body was free of blood and dirt. Then how he carefully dried you, carried you to your room and put you to bed. And how he stayed with you until you fell asleep. But that was it – you didn't remember anything else. So he probably had his own bath afterward. You felt annoyed with yourself for not being able to help him with his bathing and dressing.

“I remember now,” you murmured.

“Are you sure you are alright?” His hand stroked your belly. He was asking about both of you.

You put your hand on his and smiled. “Your son must be as much of a fighter as you are. He's still holding on tight.”

He smiled and kissed you on the belly. “For a moment, I thought I'd lost you two. It was far worse than any kind of torture.”

You put your arms around his neck. "You saved me, you came back to me, and I'm truly grateful for that."

"You saved me too, don't forget that princess. I'm proud of you for using your knife effectually."

You tensed up a little as you remembered that moment. Marcus noticed it straight away and kissed your temple. "There's no need to feel guilty about that. I know it won't be easy, but I'm confident you'll get through this. Do you wish me to tell you how I know?"

You nodded.

"Because you're my Aurelia. You're strong enough to overcome anything, yet you're tender enough to think of everyone you care about."

He pressed his lips to yours. You realised how much you missed his kiss, his voice, his smell, his touch, his sweet words, everything. When he pulled back, you felt your heart ached.

"Why don't you try to get some more sleep? You must be feeling tired." He covered you with the sheet, turned towards you and cuddled up to you, putting his arm around you. You turned your head and noticed that his eyes were closed. You pursed your lips. You weren't tired, you just needed him. However, he must have been quite tired, so you closed your eyes and tried to sleep. But it didn't work. Your body was already burning up. The sweet masculine smell of his skin made things even more difficult. You felt your throat go dry. So you turned towards him. But this caused your breasts to brush against his arm. He opened his eyes and pulled his arm back. You felt your face flush, and you turned the other way. You smiled to yourself, pleased that you'd managed to seduce him without meaning to.

“Aurelia, that's worse.” He whispered.

You soon figured out what he was talking about. You could feel him growing just behind your hips.

"Apologies." You murmured. You moved yourself on the bed a little, trying to break the physical connection between you. But his strong arm grabbed you and pulled you towards him almost roughly. Your back hits his chest. You could hear him breathing heavily, his hot breath hitting your cheek. You giggled mischievously.

"You only had to ask," he said huskily. You gasped as you felt his lips on your neck.

"I thought you wouldn't want to, seeing as you're tired.”

He turned you towards him, in a fairly forceful manner, “Do you really think that's possible my lady?” He shook his head slightly. “I don't think so.” His lips almost touching yours, you've been craving a kiss from him. “Not when I've been thinking about you all the time, not when I've been looking forward to this moment badly.” And then finally he kissed you passionately. Gods! You’d really missed his kiss. It wasn't just him who'd been looking forward to this moment.

His hands, eager as usual, grabbed the end of your tunic and slid it up your legs, helping you out of it. You smiled when you felt his hands on your exposed skin. You bit your lower lip as his lips replaced his hands. You were getting impatient; your body was burning, as if on fire, and your breathing had turned into hot steam. As he planted kisses on your knees before spreading them, you resisted him, trying to make it fun.

He snickered. "Why are you hiding from me what is already mine? Wish to play?" He lifted your legs against your stomach with his strong hands. You were taken by surprise and felt out of breath. He ran his fingers and then his lips over it, from heel to thigh, as if memorizing it, first one leg and then the other. He was careful not to leave any part of your skin untouched, but he did it so slowly that you were sure you were dripping wet by now. It might have been romantic or seductive at first, but it was getting to be too much and your patience was running out. It was good when he was gentle, but it was better when he was rough. He must have heard your inner voice, grabbed you by the legs, pulling you hard against him. You held your breath as he lifted your legs, placed them on his shoulders, and buried his head between them. Fortunately, he was no longer gentle when he used his tongue to enter you and give you unbelievable pleasure. You clenched the sheet as he licked and sucked your most sensitive spot mercilessly like a starving man. He continued his pattern, teased you until you thought you might go mad, breaking it occasionally to suck at your sweet spot or nibble at the folds of you. Meanwhile, he ventured his tongue within you, each time probing a little deeper, until finally he slid as much of it into you as he could and you could not help but cry out at the feeling of it swirling inside of you. Soon, the moans he’s coaxing out of you are only got louder and louder and you lifted your hips up to meet his mouth, your toes curling. Marcus squeezed your hips and increased the pressure of his mouth, tongue, and lips, taking you to the very top of the sky as your loud moans filled every cavity of the large room. Your vision was blurred, your heart racing.

It’s at this moment that he pulled back completely, leaving only the warm air touching you, and you let out a mortifying groan which turned into mewling. Marcus laughed at you and you opened your eyes to see his mouth and chin are covered with your wetness. He kissed you deeply, pushing what he could of it between your lips with his tongue. "You're the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," he whispered into your mouth. "A splendid dessert just for me to taste." You licked his bottom lip, tasting yourself, realizing that he was right. He kissed you again and this time with more passion quickly turning into a feverish lust.

You reached out to touch his tunic, but his consuming kiss was so intense that you failed. He smiled, his warm breath touching your cheek. Then he smirked, spread his arms wide and told you to undress him without speaking. Giggling, you got up on your knees and did as he said, running your hands over his shoulders after throwing his tunic gods-know-where. You frowned as you noticed the new scars on his body, he watched you patiently as your fingers travelled over each one. He put a finger in your temple, then over your eyebrows as if to smooth out your frown and slid it through your hair, running it through it as if combing it.

"You're the only one who can heal,” he murmured. Then he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you towards him. He held you tight, making sure there was no gap between you. You smiled as you realised he was getting impatient between your inner thighs. His glorious length was caressing your entrance and your body already squirming to be his. Thinking he was going to lay you back down, instead, he grabbed your hips and fell backward, pulling you on top of him. Now you were sitting on him, you looked down at him in surprise, and he grinned.

He licked his lips. “Ride me.”

Biting your lower lip with excitement, you placed your hands on his chest, rotated your hips and settled on top of him, slowly taking his length into you. He gripped your hips and guided you into the right position. When you felt him deep inside you let out a moan of pleasure and leaned into him. Your hair was falling in his face, and you teased him with it by shaking your head covering his face completely with your hair. He smirked and gathered your hair and put it over one shoulder as you rode him in slow movements. Then he started to speed up his thrusts by moving his groin. You were completely like impaled on him and it felt like absolute bliss and you never wanted this feeling to end. You leaned in to kiss him feeling the overwhelming pleasure was pushing you dangerously close to the edge. He was grasping and kneading your breasts in a strong and possessive way with both of his big hands as he kissed you passionately and rubbed his thumbs over your nipples. He grabbed your hips in a bruising grip and squeezes as he thrusts into you so hard and powerfully that you scream out loud in shock, like he's some kind of beast and he's almost making you beg desperately for more. He moaned and growled through clenched teeth as he marked you and claimed you and made you his. Your heart was beating so fast that you felt like it was going to burst. You pressed your lips together to suppress your upcoming scream but failed. Everyone in the palace would hear your moans and know what you were doing, but it didn't matter right now.

Marcus hit your sweet spot with each glorious thrust and soon you began to feel your soul leaving your body and your surroundings became hazy and blurry and white lights began to appear, you cried out as the most intense emotion erupted from every nerve in your body and you felt you were flying, weightless and free, the feeling of pure pleasure racing through every part of you. His moans and grunts became muffled as the pleasure overtook you. He pulled you hard against his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around you and you felt him fill you up with his hot liquid, his thrusts stuttering. You were resting your head on his chest while he buried his face in your hair. You stayed like that for a while until your breathing calmed down. Marcus loosened his grip around your body and you felt his lips on the top of your head as his hands travelled slowly down your back. You could hear the sound of his heart thudding against his chest, it soon settled and you felt him soften inside you. He grabbed you round the waist and slid you onto the bed and you snuggled into him. He lifted the sheet and covered both of you, wrapping one arm around you and thus ensuring your usual ritual of falling asleep peacefully.

—-

The morning sun was filtering through your eyelashes, casting a yellow light over your face as you blinked sleepily. Opening your eyes, the first thing you saw was Marcus' beard, his chin, and his lips. Those wonderful lips you couldn't get enough of kissing. His eyes were still closed, his sweet breath caressing your forehead as you watched him sleeping. He was so incredible, so beautiful. You felt a little upset when you saw the new scar on his cheek though, but it wouldn't prevent the perfection of his face. It made you love him even more. It was impossible to describe how much you love him, but "eternity" was probably the closest description.

Just yesterday you hated this big room, but now that he was lying next to you, in your bed, the room didn't seem so bad to you anymore. With his presence, the room had become a safer, more beautiful, and more significant place. After a few moments, you found yourself drawn to his face once more and felt the urge to kiss him. You softly pressed your lips to his. You then pulled back and saw his lips curled into a smile, opening his eyes. His brown eyes were as dark and expressive at night as they were buttery and warm in the morning. They were enough to blow your mind every time.

"Morning," you said softly.

"What a lovely morning this is," he said with a smile, running his hand through your hair.

"It certainly is," you smiled back.

He leaned over and kissed you. His kiss was gentle and passionate. But you were ready for him to kiss you deeper. He slowed his kiss but you tightened your arm around his neck. He laughed between his lips and pulled back, you frowned. He laughed even more at your reaction.

“My lady, I love it when you're eager, but don't you think you should get a little more rest?”

You blushed, batting your eyelashes. "I've really missed you."

“Same here,” he said, placing his hand on your belly and stroking it softly. "Is it alright for the child if we make love this often?"

"He's fine, I'd know if there was anything wrong." You replied. You then grasped his hand, placing it on your thigh. "I need you, Marcus, please."

He smirked. "I think I've raised my wife to be as lustful as I am." He chuckled.

You giggled naughtily. He kissed you roughly this time. Your heart began to beat with excitement. He squeezed your thighs and pulled you closer to him. Since you were already naked, the process didn't take long and he quickly lifted the sheet covering your body and settled on top of you. You had already spread your legs for him. His lips moved to your neck, collarbone and sternum, sucking and licking as he made his way down your body. As you ran your fingers through his hair, you felt him get harder at your entrance. He grabbed your hips again with one hand and entered you easily giving you incredible pleasure. His other hand travelled over every possible part of your flesh. You held your breath as he ran his hot tongue over your breasts. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him deeper into you, and he let out a loud moan.

"So needy," he said, his voice low and husky, his breath hot on your nipples. He kept nibbling on your breasts, sucking them with a growing appetite. As you began to feel like you were almost losing your mind, his lips met yours again and turned into a hungry, thirsty kiss. His thrusts fastened and you let out little moans of sweet pleasure as you dug your fingers into his flesh. He broke the kiss to push a few strands of hair away from your face. His intense gaze held yours captive while making you his. Soon he wrapped his hands around you and buried his head into your collarbone. His thrusts deepened, and he increased the pace at an incredible speed. Your back instinctively arched, but his grip was so tight that it was impossible to move. Your loud moans filled the room, and the satisfying sound of your bodies slapping together echoed in.

You screamed his name over and over, he let out a great roar and reached his climax at the same time as you. His lips sucked and nibbled your chin as he slowing his thrusts. You closed your eyes tight, bit your lip hard, curled your toes as you savoured the last moments of the amazing pleasure you were feeling. He released his grip on you and kissed the areas of your skin that had become reddened with great tenderness. You were still breathing heavily and had your eyes closed. Marcus placed his hand between your breasts and was surprised to feel your heart beating fast under his palm.

“My love, are you alright?”

You inhaled slowly and deeply through your nose and then exhaled. “My breathing... has become... much quicker now... It takes me a bit longer to settle.” You panted.

He gave you a kiss on the forehead and pulled out of you, wrapping his arms around you to embrace you close to his chest.

"I should have been more gentle with you," he said, running his fingers through your hair. "I couldn't control myself. Forgive me."

Your throat felt a little dry, so you took a moment to wet it and swallow. "There's nothing to forgive, my love, you are wonderful."

A faint smile appeared on his face.

Suddenly there was the sound of drums, which startled you. Marcus sighed. It would seem that this was an announcement of Caracalla's passing and details of the funeral arrangements. 

“I am the one who killed him,” Marcus said, looking you in the eye.

You nodded. "You did the right thing. I was almost losing you because of him. He tried to take everything from us."

"In a way, he kind of succeeded."

"How do you mean?"

"Villa," he muttered. You felt your chest tighten. Marcus stroked your cheek. "Cato said it was plundered and the slaves were taken which means they must be detained."

"Where could they be?"

"I have a few guesses. We'll find them, but first I must find Geta. Before the funeral-"

"How do you mean you have to find him? Is he missing?" Your voice was louder than you wanted it to be.

"Yesterday, I had entrusted three of my men to protect him. They arrived in the evening. They were certain it was Macrinus. They said: His men intercepted Geta's carriage and attempted to kill him. There was a skirmish between them and one of my men took him into the alleys to protect him, and probably died while doing it so. However, nobody saw Geta die. He is nowhere to be seen though.”

"Gods! Where could he be?”

"That's what I need to find out," he said, kissing the top of your head and getting out of bed. He then put on his tunic. "There may be some concern if the people don't see him at Caracalla's funeral, and if Macrinus is able to convince the senate, which is a possibility. He would then proclaim himself emperor." He turned to look at your concerned face. He sat on the bed, stroking your cheek. You let out a soft moan when you felt pain where he pressed his thumb. Your face was probably bruised where Flavius had hit you before. His eyes were filled with anger. "I should have chopped that bastard's hands and body into pieces." He hissed.

“I'll be alright. You simply find my brother, please."

“I will, I have to.” He was stroking your bruise carefully. “I know you care about him.”

You measured his gaze, “He's my brother, and it seems he's the only one left.”

“I’m aware, but the thing is, I’m not sure if he sees you as his sister.” His gaze had changed. Could it be jealousy?

“Marcus," you objected.

“It's tough for me, sharing you with someone else, even if he's your brother. As if that wasn't enough, there's a man's look in the way he looks at you, which is really frustrating for me.” His voice was sharp.

You took his hand and looked him in the eye. "Marcus, I love you and I am yours. Nothing or no one could ever change that, never."

"I know that my love. If he is still breathing, that is the reason.”

You exhaled, and he gave a faint smile in return. "Anyway, my lady. I must take my leave now." He kissed your cheek and stood up.

"Where's your armour?" you asked, standing up after him.

"It needed to be clean, the slaves were looking after it." He said, holding the door handle, he then eyed you up and down. "What are you doing?"

You looked at your stola in your hand, trying to understand his question. "I am getting dressed to come with you." You replied.

"No, Aurelia, you are not coming with me. I want you to stay in the room and rest," he said in a commanding tone.

You put on your tunic in a somewhat stubborn manner. "Please don't ask me to stay in the room. I was locked in here for days, as I'm sure you're aware."

"If you're going to be safe, it's better that way," he said firmly.

You laughed hysterically while you were wearing your stola. "Forgive me, General, but there is no way I am staying in this room in your absence."

Marcus sighed deeply. "Why are you so stubborn?”

"Please, at least let me go downstairs. The slave girl saved my life yesterday, I really must go and see her."

While you were putting on one of your sandals, you noticed he had fallen silent. He then stepped towards you and bent down in front of you. He was tying the laces of your sandal. "I am truly sorry, my lady," he murmured. You touched his shoulder to stop him.

"Or the girl..." The words got stuck in your throat.

Marcus paused then quickly tied the other sandal laces and sat down beside you, wrapping his arms around you. You couldn't stop the tears, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Many lost their lives, including my soldiers. They were like brothers to me and I lost them. All because of Flavius and Caracalla. I take some solace in the fact that they are no longer alive. Macrinus is next," he said in a stern tone.

"Marcus, what about our family? I can't lose them too."

"We won't. I'll look for them once I find Geta. I'll find them, I promise."

"Let me come with you, please."

He frowned. "Aurelia." His tone indicated that the matter was not up for discussion.

You twisted your lips. "Then don't prevent me from leaving this room." You touched his arm. "Besides, this wound doesn't look good, I should make a herbal mixture. It could get infected.”

"Alright then, but I'm leaving Cato here to look after you. I don't trust anyone else. Not with Macrinus still out there."

You smiled. “Understood, General.”

He smirked, kissed your cheek, and held out his hand to you. "My lady.”

——

As you walked into the courtyard, you saw Octavius and two other soldiers.  They noticed you and nodded.

"Tell me where Cato is at once." Marcus said to Octavius.

"He's resting, sir. His wound seems deep."

You touched Marcus' arm. "Let me examine his wound," you demanded.

"I believe the palace medicus would have attended to his wound, wouldn't he, Octavius?" Marcus asked, turning to him, awaiting an answer.

"I have learned that Emperor Caracalla had the medicus killed, sir.”

You and Marcus exchanged glances. Even though Caracalla was now dead, he had left behind some unfortunate memories, some of which were irredeemably awful.

"Octavius, I need you to stay here and ensure the safety of Lady Aurelia," Marcus said.

"As you say, sir." Octavius nodded.

Then he turned to the others. "Aris, Felix, you two come with me. We need to find Emperor Geta at once."

"Yes, sir." They both said.

"So you two are here!"

You all turned your heads towards her.

"Can you tell me where my son is, General Acacius? What are you doing here instead of finding him?" Julia asked in a defiant tone.

Right. Now his mad son had finally died, she was free too. You refused to meet her gaze. Marcus too, ignored her and turned to you. "My lady, I need to leave now. Octavius will stay here with you. Please be safe.”

"Do not worry about me, you just find him. I will be waiting for your return." You said with a smile.

"Can't you hear me? I asked you a question!”

Marcus turned to her. ‘'Lady Domna, if you don't mind, I was just about to take my leave," he said in a kind but firm tone. He than gestured for his men to step forward. He looked at you one last time before leaving the courtyard, then looked meaningfully at Octavius, who nodded. Octavius then approached you. From the way he moved and his protective demeanour, you came to know why he and Marcus had exchanged glances.

You ignored Julia's angry glare. "Octavius, take me to Cato, please."

"This way, my lady," he said, pointing ahead.

"Aurelia, where are you going? There will be members of the Senate and their wives coming to pay their respects today. Shouldn't you stay with me?"

You paused, taking a deep breath before speaking. "You're speaking as if you're my mother, Lady Domna."

"I may not be your mother but Caracalla was your brother."

"If you hadn't asked me to kill him weeks ago, I'd thought that you were in mourning right now."

"How dare you? Of course I am!" Julia's voice was loud, but when she realised Octavius was tense, she decided to lower it. "No one loved my son more than me. Whatever I have done was for him. You'll understand when you have a child of your own.”

You sighed. "I don't need your advice nor your lies. You can save them for your guests. Now, if you will excuse me, I have someone to heal." You said in a warning tone. Then you turned on your heel and left the courtyard with Octavius following you behind.

—-

Upon Marcus's arrival with Felix and Aris at the location where Geta was last known to be, it was the hour when the streets of Rome would typically be at their most active. However, a period of mourning had been declared until the funeral, resulting in a notable absence of activity on the streets. Marcus dismounted and conducted a detailed examination of the tracks on the ground, checking every corner and stone in the hope of discovering even the slightest trace.

When he was unable to find any, he ordered his men to spread out and survey the area. He was himself engaged in searching the surrounding area. After walking for a few streets, he had the feeling that he was being watched. He soon found the person who was watching him. However, he did not reveal this to the man. The man was dressed in ordinary attire, wearing a black cloak over it. Marcus entered the courtyard of a house and waited nearby, near the wall near the entrance. As soon as the man stepped through there, as he had planned, he grabbed him and put his pugio to his throat.

“Who the hell are you? Speak!” he barked.

However, the man did not speak, he struggled, but Marcus was stronger and would not let him go. Before long, though, he pulled out a dagger with his free hand and lunged at him. Marcus saw this and grabbed his hand and pushed him hard. The man stumbled and before he could recover, Marcus had already drawn his sword. Since he didn't have a sword, the man was clearly frightened and took a few steps back before running out of the courtyard. Marcus smiled and then gave chase. He followed at a relaxed pace, curious about where he was going. But soon man started to run faster so did Marcus. After chasing him for a few streets, Felix saw them from a distance and ran over to the man and jumped on him. By the time Marcus got there, the man was already on the ground.

"Well catch, brother," Marcus said with a grin. Felix grabbed the man's hands and held them behind his back. The man tried to break free but couldn’t.

"Sir, I also had someone following me, but I couldn't catch him."

Marcus frowned. Were there more men? He looked at the man with a stern gaze.

"Whose man are you? Speak or I'll make sure you never can," Marcus said in a sharp tone, pointing his sword at the man.

The man refused to speak. He was certain that he must be Macrinus' man. A short while later, someone called out to Marcus, addressing him by his title. It was Aris, running towards them, followed by several men, all dressed similarly to the man they had captured. A few more men came from up and down the street, and they formed a circle around them. Marcus put his sharp sword to the throat of the man they had caught. They were outnumbered by eight.  One of them who Marcus figured must be their leader, took a few steps forward.

"Release my man now, General Acacius!"

"Tell us who you are and why you were following us, first.”

The man raised his arms in a friendly manner. "We're on the same side, General. There's no need for all this."

Marcus raised his eyebrows in surprise. "On the same side, you say? Which side is that I wonder? Speak at once!"

"We are also searching for Emperor Geta, as you are. However, Macrinus' men are present in many places."

"So you're saying you're not one of them?"

The man laughed. "No, of course not. I am Lexus, from Leptis Magna, and so are my brothers here. We heard that our elders, our relatives, had been murdered by Caracalla. So we came to Rome on a letter from Lady Domna. We have been keeping an eye on things for some time now."

Marcus narrowed his eyes. "So you're the one who provided her with the poison that drove Caracalla mad, were you?”

The man gave a grin. "You're pretty clever for a soldier, General. I'll give you that. Well, Caracalla was already out of control, so we had to find a way to bring him down. You see, we had to do this because if he was declared a tyrant, all his decisions would be invalidated. However, it is you who killed him, so we must say thank you for that." The man bowed his head. Marcus released the man he had captured. The man ran to his friends.

Now everything was clear. Julia had been planning this since her return maybe even before.

"I assure you that no harm will come to you or your wife, Princess Aurelia. Our only desire is to find Emperor Geta at once.”

Marcus looked at him with a sharp gaze when he mentioned your name. You wouldn't dare harm her anyway, he thought. "If you were monitoring the situation from afar, why didn't you find Emperor Geta by now?"

The man let out a deep sigh. "Macrinus and the commander of the guards were making it difficult. We've lost two of our brothers since we arrived, because of them. Anyway, we will kill the commander and then him. We are simply seeking an opportunity."

"The commander is dead, as for Macrinus," Marcus sheathed his sword with a sharp noise. "I will kill him eventually, but now I must find Emperor Geta, so you'd better stay out of my way while I do so.”

Marcus gave the order to his men to follow him, and they did so without question. The others looked at their leader, who gave them a firm nod to let them go. As Marcus strode away from them and down the street, he saw a boy watching them from the corner of a wall.  The boy immediately turned and ran away as soon as he realised he had been spotted.

"Aris, catch that child!" Marcus commanded. Aris did not hesitate and ran towards him. Marcus and Felix strode purposefully towards them, their footsteps echoing in the stillness. A shrill scream rang out. And when they turned the corner, they saw Aris had caught the boy. He was holding the child with one hand and a very familiar object with the other.

“Sir, I found this on this little rascal!”

It was the bronze crown that belonged to Geta. Marcus ran towards him and took the crown from his hand.

"I did not steal it sir! He gave it to me, I swear, to all the gods!" the boy cried.

Aris shook him, "Don't lie, you little brat! Tell me, where is the owner of the crown?"

Marcus commanded, "Aris, put the boy down."

"But sir-"

"I told you to put him down." His tone was stern. Aris nodded and obeyed. Marcus approached the boy, crouched down to his level, touching his shoulder. "Who gave you this boy? Tell me. We won't hurt you, I promise."

Soon, they heard footsteps and another boy ran towards them. He was older than the other.

"You stupid! I told you!" He shouted at the little boy. Then he looked at them. His eyes widened as he noticed Marcus. "Or, are you General Acacius, sir?”

Marcus stood and smiled at him. "That's right young man, I am General Acacius. But how did you recognise me?"

"Sir, I recognised you by the armour you are wearing, an armour embroidered in gold with the great Medusa on your chest!" he said excitedly, pointing to his armour. Just like in the murals! But the real one is certainly better! Right?" He asked the little boy with a smile.

He clapped his hands excitedly. “Yes! Yes, indeed!"

Marcus smiled at them. "Well, nice to meet you then. Now, can you tell me where you found this crown? I suppose you know who it belongs to, don't you?"

The children looked at each other and then back at Marcus. "He gave it to us himself, but I warned my brother that we should head together. But he did not listen! He always does it to upset me!”

“Slow down boy, slow down.” Marcus touched his shoulder. “Emperor Geta. Did he really give it to you?”

The boy nodded.

“Then where is he? And where were you heading?”

"The Emperor Geta has entrusted us with his crown in case they don't believe us. We were on our way to the Palatine Hill."

"I see now," Marcus said. "You don't have to do that anymore. You just take us to him now, we need to get him home safely, you know what I mean, don't you?" He rubbed the boy's head.

"Yes sir!" He shouted, standing at attention like a soldier.

Marcus smiled. "Good boy.”

—-

When Marcus arrived at the place where the children had brought them, he was astounded. This was the poorhouse. The place you frequented and told him about. However, the place had clearly been refurbished. It no longer looked as shabby as it used to. The children noticed them and ran towards them. They examined his armour closely, their eyes filled with curiosity. Marcus smiled at them, recalling your words about this place. The children were well-fed and now wore proper clothes. He soon recognised Geta by his blond hair. He was sitting at a table with his back turned, next to him was an old woman. She was handing him a bowl of food.

"I'm not eating this, you old hag! Not in this life or the next! Don't you dare force me, or I'll throw up on you like a fountain!”

The woman noticed Marcus who was approaching them. Geta turned his head and his eyes widened. He leapt to his feet. "Acacius!" He shouted with a big smile spreading across his face. But then his smile faded instantly. "Acacius, why in the name of the Gods are you so late!"

"I apologize for the late arrival, Your Highness. Have you been here the whole time?”

"Yes, unfortunately I spent a night in this filthy place. Can you believe it? It's absolutely horrible!" His eyes met those of the people around him, who had heard him but not seem to care.

"My men informed me that there was a fight and the man who was protecting you was murdered. They looked for you afterwards but couldn't find you anywhere."

“Your man protected me until his last breath. After that, I ran into the alleys, but then I stumbled and fell, hitting my damn head on a stone." He pointed to his head, indicating the small wound in the corner of his forehead. "The children told me they brought me here. I opened my eyes and was in a daze. You can not even imagine the shock I had when I saw these brats around me!"

Marcus smirked. "Those brats saved your life. Good thing you're alive. We've been looking for you."

"This is yours, Your Majesty," Aris said as he handed the crown to Geta.

Geta took it and placed it on his head. “Well, we must leave then, I don't want to stay here any longer.” He came over to Marcus, bouncing a bit, clearly in pain. He then put his hand on his shoulder, Marcus sighed but helped him to walk.

"I shall have a very good bath when I get home.”

—-

In Marcus' absence, you spent the day tending to Cato's and Octavius' wounds and preparing herbal ointment for Marcus too. People, including senators and their wives, kept coming by to offer their condolences until dark. Caracalla's body was laid down in the middle of the great hall, open-faced. A white cloth with a gold pattern embroidered around the edges was covering him up to his neck. The priestesses kept on chanting the liturgy next to him, almost without a break, until evening. As Julia greeted the people who came to pay their respects with an incredibly forced expression, you wondered how she managed it. She must have done it many times before; she was like an expert. It was as if she was not the one who wanted to kill him weeks ago. Everyone who came asked about Geta and where he was, and Julia always had an answer ready. Standing with them in the great hall, you hoped Marcus would return with Geta soon. Near dusk, you almost fainted listening to the endless guests and their long speeches. You excused yourself and left the great hall, walking to the other courtyard. It was quieter here, the nausea seemed to have passed for a few days, but your body was weak from all the tension you had been under lately.

You sat on the lectus in the courtyard and put your feet up to relax. You thought about calling out Decima, but she wasn't there anymore. All of a sudden, you felt a bit down, wondering where they were now and what they were up to. You let out a little sigh and leaned your head back. You soon heard footsteps approaching.

"My Lady." A deep, masculine, velvety voice addressed you.

You immediately opened your eyes and turned your head to look at him.

"You're here," you said, your face brightening with a smile. You were just about to slide your legs down but Marcus walked over, grabbed your legs and sat down next to you, resting your legs on his lap. He had a warm smile on his face.

"Or my lovely princess had a rather tiring day?" His hand gently caressed your legs.

"Just a little." You replied with a smile.

"Nothing to trouble you, I hope?" His gaze turned serious.

"Not really, it's just people coming to pay their respects. Some of them were rather garrulous. If you imagine what I mean." You said with a whispering gesture, putting your hand near your mouth.

Marcus laughed. "I afraid I can imagine, yes. Anyway, I returned with good news.’’

"Or did you find him?"

Marcus nodded and smiled.

“Thank the gods,” you said with relief. Then you put your feet down to embrace him. His large hands gently caressed your back, and you felt his lips brushing against your hair.

He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent. “I've only been away from you for a short time, yet I miss you so much.”

You pulled your head back and looked at him. His eyes took over yours with all their seductiveness. He leaned down to kiss you. But before your lips even met, a familiar voice interrupted you.

“Sister!” Geta's voice rang through the courtyard walls. Julia called after him as he approached you with a big smile on his face, ignoring his mother.

You turned your head towards his voice, tried to pull back to stand up, but Marcus' strong arms wouldn't let you. You looked at him, he seemed a bit unsure, but then his arms loosened their grip. As soon as you stood up, Geta came over and gave you a big hug. "Ugh! I've missed you so much! You wouldn't believe what's happened to me!" Marcus seemed annoyed. Julia crossed her arms.

"I have missed you too brother." You murmured.

Geta stepped back to look at you, then frowned. "Gods! What happened to your face?" 

Marcus tensed and stood up when Geta took your face in his hands. You were aware of Marcus's nervousness, of course. You gave Geta's hands a little push away. "It's nothing serious. I've already made some ointment, and if I keep applying it I'm sure it will heal in a few days."

There was a wound on the side of his forehead. You also observed that he was staggering slightly. "What about you?"

Geta just threw himself on the lectus where you were sitting a few moments ago. "I fell. I was very nearly murdered by that cunt Macrinus and his rats.”

"You shouldn't be seen like this," Julia whined, looking at him. "You should bathe and then dress appropriately for the funeral."

Geta sighed. "I agree about the bath, but afterwards I want to sleep with no dress on!"

"There are still guests coming-"

"I do not care! I'm not interested in their fake faces and tears! I need to rest." He then looked at you. "Aurelia, Acacius, join me for dinner, would you?”

“This must be a joke! It is simply not acceptable to enjoy a dinner in the house of mourning! People will gossip until eternity!" Julia yelled.

Marcus took your hand and looked at Geta. "Lady Domna is right, Your Majesty. I will have them bring your dinner to your room after your bath. It would be more appropriate if Lady Aurelia and I retired to our room now. It has been a tiring day for us all."

Geta pursed her lips. "Acacius, I would have chastised you if you hadn't come to rescue me from that awful place. However, you have every right to ask for rest. You may leave now.”

Marcus gave a nod and turned to take his leave, pulling you along with him.

“Good night sister! Rest well!” Geta said loudly after you.

“And you as well!” You waved at him.

As you made your way out of the courtyard and towards the stairs, Marcus let out a quiet sigh. "I am looking forward to returning to our villa," he said. "It might need some repairs first." He stopped at the first step of the stairs and looked at you. "We could stay here for a little longer if you wish, until I find them."

You smiled. "Now that you've found Geta, we will reunite our family."

He moved your hand, which he was holding, to his lips and kissed it. "We will, my love.”

—-

Once you had finished your evening meal, which was brought to your room, you applied the ointment you had prepared for Marcus to his arm. You approached the table to put the bowl down, while Marcus opened the drawer of the other small table.

"My Lady, I believe I have something that belongs to you," he said. He was holding the bracelet you dropped last time when you running away from Flavius. 

"Marcus, you found it! But how?" You smiled cheerfully.

He reached for your arm and placed the bracelet on your wrist.  "I consider myself fortunate. Thanks to this bracelet, I was able to reach you in time." He sat on the edge of the bed and sat you on his lap. You put your arm around his neck. "Maybe the gods had mercy." His fingers traced the bruise on your face. His eyes were dark. "Maybe they knew what I would do if something happened to you and they intervened to prevent it, for the sake of Rome."

You could imagine what he was talking about since you had witnessed his furious side. He wrapped his other arm around your waist and kissed you on the face again and again. With each kiss, your heart was beating faster and your throat was feeling dry. As his breathing also became more rapid, lust began to take over your entire body. Marcus pushed back the hair covering your neck and kissed the exposed skin. You instinctively arched your neck back and wrapped your other arm around his neck. With your waist supported by his arm, he gently laid you down on the bed. Your feet were still touching the floor. Marcus bent over you and gave you a passionate kiss on the lips. His tongue tasted of the wine he'd just drunk – sweet and fruity. His moustache and beard tickled your cheeks, making you kiss him even more eagerly. As he deepened the kiss, he grabbed the fabric of the stola you'd tucked into your belt and quickly released you from both. Once you were left in just your tunic, he sat you down on the bed and quickly undressed you, making it very clear that he loved this very much. He took hold of your legs and waist and pulled you towards the middle of the bed. Before long, he was on top of you. His hands, his lips, his movements were as gentle and careful as he promised. It was beautiful in its seductiveness, yes, but it made you even more impatient. A few more touches and your body was already writhing to be his. You tangled your fingers in his hair as Marcus' marvellous tongue circled around your nipples. He snickered as your fingers then gripped the hem of his tunic.

“Impatient, my lady?”

“Very much so,” you said with a giggle.

He laughed and got up on his knees to take off his tunic. His bare chest never failed to amaze you. It was perfect in every sense of the word. After eyeing his torso, you reached for him, grabbed his neck, and pulled him to you.

Your lips met and immediately turned into a hungry kiss. Marcus smiled crookedly as you spread your legs for him without a second thought. He was trying to be as gentle as possible, but you were trying his patience too much. Now he was as impatient as you were. He gripped your hips and slowly entered your now helplessly squirming walls. A loud moan of pleasure escaped your mouth, causing you to break the kiss. This gave Marcus the opportunity to lick and suck your chin. But your mouths met again. And it turned into a kiss so deep you forgot how to breathe. Marcus was in no rush to speed up his thrusts, determined to be gentle this time, until you raised your hips a little and wrapped your legs tightly around him. He let out a deep, masculine sound that was similar to a roar. He broke the kiss and placed his hands on the bed, on either side of you. You thought he was angry but he snickered. "You are driving me mad you know that, do you not?"

"I know," you giggled, biting your lip. "Marcus," you ran your hands over his shoulders. "I see you're trying hard to be gentle, but there's really no need. Our child is fine." Then you placed your hands on his waist. "And I am perfectly fine." You said seductively.

He leaned in and kissed you, then grabbed your hips and pulled back to thrust deeper. "I'm glad you said that because I was just about to bite the bed sheet."

You both giggled. As if he was waiting for your approval desperately he thrust deep again. You were overwhelmed with the incredible pleasure he was giving you.

"I love how stubborn you are, even in bed," he whispered in your ear. "It makes me want you even more."

You were almost climaxing from his words, if not from his glorious thrusts deep inside your walls. He responded to your loud moans with a satisfied smile, and soon he was feeling close to the edge too.

“Marcus!” You cried out his name.

“That's right, my love. Say it louder.” He purred.

“Marcus!” You could have sworn your voice echoed across the Roman skies.

As you rose into the sky in an explosion of pleasure, you desperately but mercilessly dug your fingers into his back. And he lost it. His big fingers gripped your thighs and squeezed them so hard as he reaches his climax. He pressed his face between your breasts until he was breathing regular again. You felt wet, but it wasn't just his forehead that was sweating - your whole body was too. Your heart was beating fast, your breathing was almost wheezing, but Marcus' lips, moving slowly over your collarbone, helped you to calm down. And soon you laughed as your breathing became regular. Marcus laughed too and collapsed next to you. "This was magnificent. It deserves to be at the top of the list. What do you think, princess?" he asked, panting.

You rested your chin on his chest, looking at him curiously.  "I didn't realise you had a list, General."

He ran his hand down your spine. "Not to make comparisons of course, but to track progress. Anyway, this is a bit pointless since we're getting better every time, aren't we?" He winked at you. You blushed, but it must be invisible since your body is red all over. "Maybe it's because you're so wonderful, so full of surprises, my beautiful wife," he kissed the top of your head. You smiled and involuntarily yawned and he laughed in response. "We should get some rest now tomorrow is going to be a bit of a hard day."

"Indeed, we should," you murmured slowly, your eyelids already closing and you soon fell asleep.

He cupped your head in his palm, then carefully placed it on the pillow, then kissed your temple. "Sleep well, my love.”

—-

As the first rays of the morning heralded a new day in the city, it did not appear to evoke a sense of mourning. As the day began, people appeared to be in good spirits, with some even hoping that the period of mourning would soon come to an end and they could return to their daily lives. Nevertheless, it was an emperor who had passed away, and whatever was required for his funeral would be done, even if he had been a flawed ruler.

As was to be expected, preparations for the funeral began at the Domus Severiana at an early hour.Julia was feeling relieved inside although she looked sad and devastated from the outside. She had been sitting beside her son's cold body in the early morning, waiting in her black stola: For her other son to wake up.

It is not known whether Geta had woken up yet, but you had already opened your eyes. Marcus woke up before you and woke you up in the sweetest way; placing soft kisses on your face. It seems that the room you were in was nothing like a room in a house of mourning.

“I wish we'd never got out of bed.” You mumbled something quietly. “I really miss the early days of our marriage.”

Marcus smirked. "Am I mistaken, my lady, or weren’t you a little bored?”

You looked up at him. “Bored? I don't think so! I don't recall anything like that. Besides, I couldn't be bored with you. That's not possible, General.”

“I feel the same way, my lady. I'd love to stay in bed with you forever. But not in this bed for sure.” He frowned.

You giggled. "In our bed back at the villa?”

“Yes, you might want to make a few changes while the repairs are taking place.”

“What could it be?”

“Anything you wish. After all, it'll be three of us in that room soon, don't you think?” He gave you a wink.

“Oh, that's right.” You said with a grin.

"It might even be four or five. Or perhaps we should tear down the room and make it bigger."

It was appealing to picture yourself with so many children, but also a bit daunting. “How are we going to stay in one room with so many children? Besides, we'll never get any alone time too.”

Marcus leaned towards you. “How about a separate secret room for us to be alone, then? A small room where no one can find us?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hmm, it sounds very romantic.”

He smirked and kissed you.

And then, you heard footsteps just outside the door.

Geta came bursting in. “Are you two still in bed?” 

Marcus quickly pulled the sheet up to your head and buried you in it.

“Gods!” You yelled.

“What do you think you're doing?” Marcus barked.

Geta crossed his arms, looking away. "It's a habit, I suppose. My mind goes back to the old days." He chuckled.

It's really great that you brought up the old days in front of Marcus, brother, you thought. You couldn't see him, but you were certain Marcus was angry.

"I had no idea you two were busy romancing on the day of the funeral," he grumbled, glancing at Marcus’ naked body out of the corner of his eye. But he looked away because he was staring at him menacingly. "Anyway, get dressed at once. The ceremony will start soon."

He left the room quickly but you had no intention of lifting the sheet off your face. You were a little tense about meeting Marcus's angry face. You gripped the sheet tightly.

"The old days?" Marcus asked.

You swallowed.

"He used to barge into your room like this before too?"

You bit your lip.

"Aurelia, I asked you a question." His tone of voice was definitely angry.

You shook your head but you must have looked pretty ridiculous since you were under the sheet. Marcus surpressed his smile and took the sheet to pull it away from your face. You tried to resist, but you were no match for his strength. You looked down, not wanting to look at his face. "I am awaiting for an answer?"

He put his fingers under your chin and made you look up at him.

"It's Geta, he's always like that."

"That's not an excuse!" he yelled, startling you.

He then let out a sigh trying to control his anger. He got out of bed to put on his tunic. "This is too much! I'll make sure the villa is repaired and we return there at once, or we'll be having another emperor's funeral soon!"

"You're right, we can't stay here." You said, mumbling.

He looked at you, then sighed again, He then sat on the edge of the bed, seemed calmer now. He brushed your arm with the back of his hand all the way down to your wrist. "I shouldn't have shouted at you. It wasn't your fault after all. Forgive me."

You got up on your knees and put your arms around his neck. "Marcus, my love, we'll return to our villa eventually. I am sure that we'll be happier there than ever. So could you try to be a little more patient, please? Also, could you try not to get angry with him? Can you do that? For me?" You ran your fingers through his hair. He didn't seem angry anymore.

He nodded. "Very well. I'll try not to get angry, but just for you. However, it'll definitely be hard to do so."

You traced your lips over his cheek. "Then, whenever you feel angry, simply remember this: I love you, I'm yours, my heart is yours, and no one can change that, not in this life or the next," you whispered.

He smiled and then looked at you in the eye. "I do too, Aurelia. I love you with all my heart, my body, my soul, everything that I have." Then he kissed you passionately, soon turned into another lustful kiss and you were surprised when Marcus quickly took off his tunic.

"What are you doing General?" You giggled. "What about the ceremony?"

He grabbed you round the hips and waist and laid you back on the bed roughly, making you gasp.

"Perhaps we can keep them await a little longer," he grinned.

——

 

Chapter 14: The Ambush

Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt

Fate leads the willing and drags the unwilling.

H.

 

First day of the Funeral Ceremonies.

In the event of the Emperor’s death, his body was twice cremated. First, the body was burnt in the environment closest to the family, leaving this moment in the private sphere. After burning the corpses at the stake, the remains of the bones were laid in a mausoleum.

The second cremation had a symbolic dimension and was a public demonstration of the emperor’s apotheosis. Ceremonies of this type usually took place on the Field of Mars, outside the city. At that time, the wax effigies of the Emperor were burned, imitating the deceased.

On the first day of the ceremony, in the temple of Julius Caesar, you were standing right next to Marcus, and you found yourself feeling somewhat sorrowful as you witnessed Caracalla's body being burned on wooden stakes. The flames soon rose, and some of the people attempted to discreetly add more wood to the fire, despite the presence of soldiers who had formed a circle around Caracalla's body. Some expressed their frustration, while others paid tribute to the deceased emperor. However, there was a notable absence of words of love, with the exception of those by Caracalla's mother, Julia. While her words may have been perceived by some as lacking sincerity, many others believed they were not, and thus, it was not seen as a significant issue.

As you held Marcus' hand at the top of the temple steps, you felt nauseous of the strong, unpleasant odour. Marcus put his arm around you and helped you down the stairs. The ceremony was already drawing to a close. When you got down the stairs, Geta and Julia came over to you while you were catching your breath. Now it was time for the evening ceremony to announce the emperor's will. All members of the senate were due to attend Domus Severiana in the evening, but this seemed unnecessary given that Caracalla would now be declared a tyrant and therefore any word or will would be invalid. However, rituals had to be honoured. Julia was reluctant to do so, as she had been closely involved with the members of the senate in the absence of Macrinus and had managed things well. And she could guess that Caracalla's will wouldn't make her happy.

But you were all taken aback when Macrinus showed up at the funeral. It was as if nothing had happened. Geta was so angry that he ordered the guards to arrest him, but it was no use. He wasn't trying to escape yet he was a member of the senate, so he was legally entitled to be there. There was no legal basis for the charges, despite Geta's desire to see him dead. Marcus was also furious, his hand on his sword ever since he saw him. But he couldn't kill him in public or even in secret. Well, not yet anyway. That is until Geta was officially declared the sole emperor and Macrinus was officially punished. He was running out of time, but instead of being afraid and running away, he was on the battlefield. This was his best move since he still held the vast majority of the Senate. Marcus had upped the number of his soldiers around the Palatine Hill as a precaution against any move or possible attack by him.

That evening, all the senators got together in the great hall for the reading of the will. Women weren't allowed, but you didn't seem to mind much. Julia was a bit of an exception though. You were in the courtyard when the scriba (chief clerk) announced the will. After a while, you heard a few murmurs and looked in that direction. The senators were now leaving. Your eyes seek Marcus. He was heading your way, adjusting the shawl he wore over his black toga. He looked pretty annoyed. Geta was right behind him, muttering and swearing under his breath.

“We need to get the Council together as soon as possible! I must stop this nonsense now!'

“I agree,” Marcus said as he approached and sat next to you.

"Is there bad news?" you asked, looking at them both.

“Acacius, that will have no force. I'll make sure of that and then that cunt will have no more excuses.” He waved his hand to the slaves. “Wine!”

“I am starting to have some concerns,” you whined.

"I wish I could say,  'no need,' but..." Geta said, throwing himself at the other lectus. His wine was served, and he drank it in one gulp and requested another. You put your hand on Marcus' back. He turned his head towards you, with a faint smile.

"Could you tell me what happened?"

"Caracalla. He’s sending him into exile," Geta replied for him. He took another sip of his wine. "And worse, he has suggested that the court order be issued for the offense of treason, which would result in the loss of his citizenship."

Your eyes widened. "What did you say?"

Marcus's expression confirmed what he had said. "They can't do that, can they?" You asked Marcus, but he covered his face with his hand.

"He couldn't get him killed, after all. He won the games and well earned his freedom, but he decided to exile him, also he said that day. But the denaturalization thing is ridiculous, it is too much. I am certain that is Macrinus' idea. According to law, your marriage will be annulled and you will be considered a widow.”

Your heart felt like it was squeezing, Marcus grabbed your hand.

"I told you that already!" Julia suddenly appeared next to you. "I told you how valuable you are, Aurelia, even as a widow."

"Don't get started, Mother! We're all on edge enough here!" He warned her, looking at Marcus, who was clenching his jaw in anger.

"If Macrinus had killed Geta, he probably would have got the will approved and your marriage would have-"

"Cease the nonsense!" Marcus yelled. He then stood up and pulled you with him. Julia stood dumbfounded.

"I warned you," Geta mumbled to her mother.

Marcus was so angry as he walked with you towards the stairs. He was holding your hand so tightly that it hurt. It seemed like he didn't realize that. He didn't say a word until he came into the room with you, and that upset you. You couldn't bear to see him like that, you wanted to lift his spirits and see him smile again, no matter what. He was still angry as he took off his bracelets. "I hate this!" He growled. "There's always someone or something trying to take you away from me. It is my deepest fear, like a curse that haunts me." He was taking his shawl off in anger but couldn’t do it properly.

You looked into his eyes as you grabbed the hem of the shawl he had wrapped around his waist, lifting it over his shoulder. "No one can take me away from you, my love. You need to have a bit more faith in that."

"If the Council agrees, they can exile me from Rome. Then I'll no longer be a General, I'll be a commoner. Being a soldier is the best I can do. I don't know what else I'm good for, but none of these is worse than being separated from you, my lady."

"Who said you'd separated from me? I would do whatever it takes to be with you." You said firmly. “I would exile myself from Rome if I had to.”

Marcus raised his eyebrows. "But you're a princess, and I'm sure you realise that giving up your fame or your title isn't an option."

You embraced him, your arms encircling his neck. "I would be willing to make that sacrifice for you. After all, what use is being a princess if I'm not going to be with you? You must remember that I was not a princess when we first met, my name was not Aurelia, but Aya, an orphan."

Marcus smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist. "That's right, Aya. You were. My beautiful, innocent Aya."

"Innocent? Do you think I've lost my innocence? Or have you changed your feelings towards me?" You frowned, pursing your lips.

Marcus laughed. "I'm curious how you manage to be jealous of yourself. It must be a special talent of yours, my lady." He laughed again.

You shrugged. "You said 'Aya' so adoringly."

"You are truly astonishing. Once again, you have amazed me, princess. I'm left speechless." He leaned in and kissed you on the lips. "But would you truly consider going into exile with me as Aya?"

"I would be honored to do so if you would have me. With you, I am whole, without you, I am lost. We made a promise to each other, did we not? Where you are Marcus, I am Marca."

He nodded. "Where you are Marca, I am Marcus." His eyes sparkled as his fingers stroked your hair. "You're far too incredible to be ordinary. You must be a goddess." He kissed your temple, his lips brushing against your skin. "My goddess, I worship you. I love you, divine." He then kissed you passionately, adoringly.

"You know, this colour suits you, although perhaps not as well as your white armour, though," you murmured as you broke the kiss.

"Is that so?" He smirked. "Would you like me to share my thoughts about you as well?"

You nodded, smiling.

"I love you in every color of dress, I really do…" His hands worked skilfully, removing your stola and bracelets in a slow, deliberate manner. "However, my favourite look of yours," he said as he slowly removed your tunic, "is exactly like this." His brown eyes traced in your bare body from head to toe. "Your natural, pure beauty." His gaze soon became more intense, you could feel your cheeks flushing and your heart starting to beat faster. The light from the oil lamp illuminated your body, making your hair look more golden than ever, which he found very seductive. Marcus took you gently in his arms and laid you on the bed. He lay down beside you, put his arm around your waist, kissing your cheek tenderly. “Da mi basia mille, deinde centum, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum, deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum. dein, cum milia multa fecerimus, conturbabimus illa, (Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then another thousand, and then another hundred, and, when we've counted up the many thousands, let us confuse them so as not to know them all).” He whispered, and he kissed your chin, then your nose, then the corner of your mouth. The poet and romantic Marcus was here. “Catullus,” he explained.

You smiled. “It's a beautiful poem,” you murmured.

He ran the back of his hand along the line of your collarbone and shoulders. "You're the most beautiful, my love."

His words were so lovely, soft, and arousing, and your body was already writhing to be his. Just as his lips were about to meet yours, he pulled away and got up from bed. Before you had a chance to ask what was going on, he walked over to the desk and opened the drawer. "I almost forgot," he said, holding out a key and showing it to you. "I simply want to ensure that we have some privacy." He walked to the door and locked it. When he turned to you, a childish smile appeared on his face. "It's better to be cautious."

You giggled. "I don't blame you.”

He put the key on the desk and stepped towards you. "Now," he said, putting his knee on the bed. "Where were we, my lady?" He crawled closer to you, with a predatory look. You bit your lower lip and put your knees together, in a teasing manner. "You still haven't taken off your tunic, general." His big hands gripped your knees. "You said you loved it," he whispered, his eyes travelling down your legs.

“I did, but I also love you most when you are not wearing any clothing."

He chuckled. "Do you really, my lady?" He glanced down at himself. "I believe I am in rather good shape, but my body bears many scars from the years. This is a soldier's body, after all, not a pleasant one, I suppose."

"That's not true." You said and got up on your knees. You helped him take off his black tunic. Marcus sat on the bed on his heels and watched you carefully as you ran your fingers over his body. You started with an old wound on his shoulder, then moved on to another. Each one had a memory, and you admired him again as he told you one by one when it happened. The most noticeable of his scars was the one on his abdomen. It was the one that almost killed him, the one you healed, and the one that made you two meet. Now it looked like it had always been there, like the others. You looked at his face then kissed it on the cheek where the wound was. "Your scars show how strong you are, how wonderful you are, how you can overcome anything. They make me love your body more, my love. The first time I saw you, I was struck by the scars you bore. I was really amazed." Your cheeks blushed.

He considered your meaning. "When I was lying unconscious in the tent?"

You nodded. "That's true."

"You never cease to surprise me, my love." He laughed. "Should I cut myself again then?" He teased.

"Marcus, don't be silly." You put your hand on his cheek. "I don't want to see you get hurt again.”

He smiled. ‘'Forgive me, my lady. Perhaps I'm a bit spoiled because I already have the magical cure." He grasped you by the hips, pressing his length against your entrance. "You are such a medicine, healing my body, my soul, my senses, my heart." He whispered into your ear. "My need for you is eternal. I'll never get enough of you." You wrapped your legs around him with a little moan as he laid you back. He was right - he could never get enough of you. Every time he kissed your lips, drank from your mouth, or tasted your skin, he did it with incredible need. You weren't complaining because you couldn't get enough of him either. It was something you couldn't put into words. You wanted it the same way every time, felt satisfied with it, then wanted it again and again. It was like a necessity for your survival. His lips met yours hungrily, and he pushed his length against your walls, making you moan from the sudden pressure on your most sensitive spot. You broke the kiss by arching your back backward. But it gave him the chance to play with your breasts as he pleased. They were already hard before his tongue even touched your nipples. As they'd been quite sensitive lately, just a gentle touch was enough to send you over the edge. However, he was licking, sucking, biting and nibbling them like it was the first time he ever did it, and he was clearly enjoying himself. After a while, no matter how much you resisted, he made you reach your climax with a loud moan. When Marcus felt your heartbeat quicken under his lips, he put his cheek between your breasts and listened to it. He then lifted his head to look at your face.

"As impatient as ever." He murmured. “You couldn't wait for me, could you, my lady?”

"You made me," you panted. "You were aware of how sensitive my breasts were."

"I'm afraid I cannot apologise for that," he said. "But you've been rather impatient lately, I don't think that's the only reason."

"Do you think so?"

"Hmm, I shall prove it," he said, making you roll easily. Your face and knees were turned towards the bed. He guided your hips up towards him, positioning himself accordingly. He put his hands on the bed, on either side of your body, since your walls were already rather slippery, allowing him to slide into you from behind easily. You let out a loud moan as you felt incredible pressure on your most sensitive spot. His muscular chest brushed against your back with each of his intense thrusts, but he was careful to avoid putting too much weight on you. Marcus gathered your hair at the back of your neck and rested his chin on your shoulder. He kissed your cheek and his lips slid from your ear to your neck, then to your shoulder, licking and tasting your flesh on their path. You traced your fingers along the strong arm he'd put on the bed to support himself. And finally, he managed to prove his point, making you come for him a second time. He wrapped his other arm around you and buried his face in your hair, reaching his own climax with a loud groan. He collapsed, and you liked his strong pressure on your vulnerable body. It made you feel like he'd just conquered you all over. Keeping his arm around you, rolled onto his side. Your breathing quickened again, but Marcus's lips were soft against your skin, helping your breath to settle.

—-

Second day of the Funeral Ceremonies.

The first thing you heard when you woke up was the soft murmuring coming from the courtyard and the knocking on the door. And then you heard the door handle being forced.

"Did you lock the damn door? How rude!" Geta's voice came through from the other side.

You opened your eyes and noticed Marcus was not in bed. You looked up and saw him sitting at the edge of the bed, wearing his burgundy tunic.

"I knew I couldn't trust him. It was no surprise. Wasn't it a good idea to lock it up?" He winked at you.

You sat up in bed and smiled. "I'm blessed with a man who is so handsome, so protective and so intelligent. Should I give you a kiss to congratulate you?"

He smiled and leaned towards you. "Yes, please."

You reached up and kissed him on the lips.

Before long, Geta's voice became more subdued, and the footsteps receded into the distance.

"I guess you'll be wearing your armour today."

"Yes, my lady, the second day of the ceremony will be held in the Field of Mars, so I need to be there with the general outfit of mine." He gave you a quick kiss on the shoulder and stood up. You reached down to pick up your tunic from the floor but you felt dizzy and fell back on the bed.

"Aurelia?" Marcus came over and sat on the bed next to you. "My Love, are you alright?" He put his hand on your forehead.

"I think I'm quite hungry, I didn't eat much yesterday."

"I will ask them to bring food for you. Please stay in the room and rest today. I may be back later this evening. I have to pay a visit to the governor afterwards." He said, helping you put your tunic on.

"The governor?"

"Yes, I need to find out where the slaves are and then I will go to check the villa."

"I'd better come with you." You were insistent.

"Aurelia," he shook his head in disapproval. "You simply stay here and rest. I'll find them and have them return to the villa, then we'll go home together, I promise." He took your hand and kissed the top of it. "I have to leave now." He stood up.

"I'll be awaiting for your return."

"Stay safe and rest well, my love." He smiled at you before leaving the room.

Marcus closed the door and made his way downstairs, calling out to Octavius as he walked. Geta heard him and came over. Marcus gave him a nod.

"Acacius, could you tell me where Aurelia is?"

"She's resting in her room, Your Majesty."

"I need to see her," Geta said, heading for the stairs, but Marcus grabbed his arm. Geta looked at him, squinting his eyes.

"She is not feeling well today, you know her condition. Let her get some rest." He spoke in a firm tone.

“Or she is not coming with us? But we'll be leaving soon for the ceremony. Is it safe to leave her here on her own? That wretched Macrinus is still on the loose."

"My soldiers will be waiting outside. The Praetorian guards are inside the palace, and they're loyal to you and the princess."

"I'm not sure, Acacius. Some of the senators are on Macrinus' side, which concerns me. It would be ideal to start ruling officially as soon as possible. I've been informed that the council can meet as an emergency no later than the day after tomorrow. So we must proceed with caution."

"We will, Your Majesty. Now, please allow me to dress properly and then be ready to leave.”

—-

Once Marcus had left, you ate the food that had been delivered to the room and spent a little while resting there. But you soon found the room a bit boring, so you got dressed and left. It was getting late in the afternoon, and the slaves were busy with their daily duties. You went to the tomb in the palace to pay your respects to your father and then went back to the courtyard. Julia had returned from the ceremony and you observed her entering the great hall accompanied by a few people following her. Geta was not present, but it was possible that he was in the great hall as well. It seems likely that Julia was now providing guidance to her son in the running of the empire. You decided to ignore them and go to Cato to check his wounds. However, he was nowhere to be seen, so you walked to the entrance of the great courtyard. There you found him, standing by the gate with another soldier. Upon recognizing you, they saluted you.

“My lady.”

"Cato, I was looking for you. Are your wounds healing well?"

"Thank you, my lady. I am feeling better now. I am truly grateful for your help." He smiled.

"Have you two been standing here all morning? Have you had a chance to eat yet?"

They gazed at each other.

"My lady, the General's orders are clear. We shall eat once he returns." Aris said.

"Sister!"

You turned to Geta's loud voice. He was staggering a little as he walked towards you. Aris and Cato bowed to him. Geta came over, taking your arm.

“I didn't realize you were here,” you said, looking at him.

He let out a sigh. "Well, two funerals for our brother are too much for me to take. I left as quickly as I could. How are you feeling now? Acacius mentioned that you were feeling a little tired this morning."

"I am alright, now." You walked together towards the courtyard. The wound on his forehead was still a bit bad. "I guess no one has treated your wound yet?"

"Hm yes," he said, touching his wound. "Our insane brother has made sure we don't have a medicus here anymore." He let out a sigh. "Even my favourite slave died because of him, poor girl." Then he sat down on the lectus. "It hurts," he murmured.

You approached him. "I am truly sorry brother."

"I meant my wound, silly." He pointed at his forehead.

You smiled at him. "Let me bring you the ointment I prepared earlier." You said and walked towards the palace clinic.

Geta grinned. "If you insist that much."

When you returned with the ointment, you saw Julia sitting next to Geta with a few other women. You recognized some of them – they were your relatives from Leptis Magna. You figured the rest must be the wives of senators. They were all looking at you in a curious way.

"Princess Aurelia, is the child a boy or a girl?" One of them asked.

It was a bit of a strange question to answer yet you didn't want to be too friendly with them. "I suppose it's difficult to tell so soon," you said as you applied the ointment to Geta's wound.

"I have heard some people say that you will give General Acacius a son." One of them said.

"It is necessary to continue the General's family name after all." Another one said.

All of them looked at you, seeking to ascertain any information that might satisfy their curiosity. Julia laughed hysterically. "Aurelia's mother gave birth to a girl, just like her aunts. Given that she has so many girl cousins, I'd say this one will be a girl too.”

One of them, whose demeanor you found to be friendly, made eye contact with Julia and then with you. "After all, Lady Aurelia's mother gave birth to a princess, not an ordinary girl. It is always a possibility that you may give birth to a prince of Rome, my lady."

They all fell silent and glanced furtively at Geta. You put your hands on your belly and smiled. You were almost sure it was a boy, but you had no intention of sharing it with them.

"Stop the nonsense now! You gossipy old women! What difference does it make if it's a boy or a girl? It is going to be my nibling after all. Don't you have a home to go to? I've had enough of you today, so get out of my sight at once!" He waved his hand in a shooing gesture.

They all got up at with murmurs and headed towards the entrance. Julia squinted at you and Geta before following them behind.

"Thank you," you mumbled.

"Don't mind them, they must all be jealous of you."

"Jealous of me?" You asked as you applied the ointment to his wound.

He sighed. "I don't think you realise how splendid and significant you are." He said in a serious tone, like scolding you.

You looked into his eyes but he looked away. "I mean, you're a princess, that's what I mean."

You were startled by the sound of a deep, masculine voice clearing his throat. When you looked in that direction, you saw that Marcus was standing there. You were curious as to how much he had heard. He did not appear angry, or perhaps he was simply trying to keep his promise to you. You stood up and went towards him. You smiled when you noticed the flowers he was holding. They were golden-coloured trollius europaeus (globeflower).

"Or are those for me?" You asked.

"I thought of you when I saw them, my lady. Their colour reminded me of your hair. Did you like them?"

"Yes, they're so lovely, thank you." You said, taking the flowers from him.

"They're overshadowed by your beauty." He said, smiling. Your cheeks flushed.

"Oh, Acacius, you're so romantic!" Geta chuckled.

You both ignored him. "Are you hungry?" you asked. "Come, let me feed you." You said, taking his hand.

"Acacius, where have you been?" Julia asked, walking towards you.

You'd already seen enough of her arrogant face today, and it was starting to bother you.

"I could not see you after the ceremony. We need to talk.’

"I have been preoccupied with personal matters, Lady Domna. What is it?"

Julia looked at you and Geta. "Not here," she said, "Come to the great hall."

“You're so persistent, Mother,” Geta said with a sigh.

You gave your flowers to one of the slaves to take them to your room. Then you followed Julia and Geta to the great hall with Marcus.

"I've been keeping an eye on Macrinus' consuls for a while now," Julia said. You all gathered around the desk with some papers and maps on it. "I've been thinking about how we can get them on our side."

"We? There's no such thing as 'we'." Marcus said firmly.

You smiled when he said exactly what you said before, to the same person.

"You do want to finish Macrinus, don't you? I told you before, that if you had been made a consul by now, maybe we could have stopped him from becoming powerful."

"And I said I'm a soldier, not a politician."

"Yet here we are General. Don't you see how dangerous he is? Caracalla died because of him. Geta and you were close to dying too.”

He put his hands on the desk. "Once the Council declares Cracalla's death a rightful tyrannicide, his will, and all his acts become null and void. Macrinus will be nothing, and I will surely kill him then."

"Even if he dies, his consuls might still support him and not support Geta. I need to get rid of that threat. 'We're on the same side here. He wants something you and I have, right?'

Geta interjected. "I think Acacius is right, Mother. When I rule, Macrinus will lose everything he has. Then we'll kill him easily."

"You're underestimating him. Macrinus has been preparing for this for years, he is so smart yet close to his end now. We just need to give it the final push. I've already won over some of them, but a few are still on his side. I don't know what he's promising them, but if they vote on whether to honour Caracalla's will, he could win."

"We can convince them," You said. "If we tell them the truth; what he's done to Caracalla, how he manipulated him. Then there will be those who want to side with Geta, won't there?"

"You seem pretty sure you can convince them, Aurelia," she said, crossing her arms. "Do you have any idea how tough it is going to be?"

Marcus let out a sigh.

You decided to talk back to Julia. "Maybe they need something to believe in then? If we present Geta's possible policy of rule to them and if we can convince them that we need their support to build Rome's future together, those who are truly willing will accept it, won't they?"

"Aah! If they refuse, we'll slaughter them and do it for Rome! Remarkable, sister!" Geta clapped his hands.

"Is killing really the only solution for you?" you said, squinting.

"With your approach, we can only hope, Aurelia," said Julia.

"Lady Aurelia is right," Marcus said. "Emperor Geta needs to convince them." He looked at him sincerely. "They need to see that Macrinus has no power compared to the emperor himself. Show them that you are your father's son, Your Majesty. It's time to behave like a true emperor."

“Acacius, how dare you say that to me?” Geta shouted at him.

Marcus approached him with a stern look on his face. "You must show them, to your people, that you have changed, that you are capable of more than simply acting as a spoilt emperor."

"Don't cross the line!" Geta pointed a finger at him.

"Maybe later Acacius, we do not have time for that. My son is right," Julia said, crossing her arms. "Anyone who supports Caracalla, anyone still backing Macrinus, we must butcher them and seize all their assets. It will make the others fear and obey."

"This is insane,’’ Marcus growled. He looked at Geta. "Then how would you be any different from your brother, the tyrant?"

Geta thought for a moment, looking a little indecisive.

"That's why you wanted to speak with my husband, isn't it? This was not about politics. You want him to do your dirty work!" You walked over Julia. 

She ignored you. "If you don't, the Praetorians will, Acacius."

"I will not kill Roman consuls." He said firmly.

"Well, that's the last resort anyway. It might not be necessary. I've spoken to the consul Albanus' wife." Julia looked at Marcus a little weird way. "If all goes to plan, she'll help us get more than half the council on Geta's side. You must know her Acacius, she was your former wife after all."

Before Julia could say more, Marcus grabbed her by the throat.

"What are you trying to do?" Marcus yelled.

“Acacius!” Geta shouted. You froze.

Julia was having trouble breathing. You grabbed Marcus's arm with both hands and tried to pull it away from Julia's throat, but he was too strong, and you failed. There was pure anger in his eyes, the kind that always makes you feel scared.

"Marcus, please, you'll kill her!" You begged.

But he didn't. The guards drew their swords.

"General! Release the Lady Domna at once!"

"Acacius, are you mad?" Geta shouted. "Take your hands off her now!"

You knew you were the only one who could calm him down, so you touched his face. "Marcus, please, please! She's not worth it. Please! You promised me," you reminded him.

That's when he looked at your eyes and pulled his hands away. Julia started coughing violently. Geta put his hand on her shoulder. The guards sighed with relief and sheathed their swords with his signal. You grabbed Marcus' hand who was still looking at Julia with a deadly stare.

"Enough talk. We're going to retire to our room now." You said, looking at them, tugging Marcus to the outside. Julia was too shaken up to speak, rubbing her throat. Geta wrapped his arm around her, but he wasn't angry as he looked at you.

"Get out of my sight you two!” He said, hoping his voice sounded sharp. He then gave you a wink. You rolled your eyes.

Marcus was still visibly angry, but he didn't resist your tugging. When you left the great hall, it was his turn to tug.

"That's enough! We're not staying here any longer!" He yelled, his voice echoed across the courtyard. Cato and the others came running towards you.

"Where might we go?"

"Sir!" Octavius called out to him. Marcus stopped him by raising his hand.

He then looked at you. "I've spoken to the governor, and we now have some idea of where the slaves are. We must await the council's decision, however.”

"Have you seen them? Are they alright?" You asked. Marcus looked at Octavius, and so did you.

He didn't seem down anymore. "They'll be fine, my lady," he said with a half smile.

Marcus gave his shoulder a little tap. "I sent Octavius to check them. They'll be out of there soon and we'll return our home, together." He smiled.

"We will," you smiled back.

Marcus turned his head to Octavius. "I need you to get the horse ready a bit earlier than planned."' He said.

"As you wish." He nodded and left.

"But if we're not staying here, and if we're not staying in the villa either, then where are we staying?" You asked Marcus curiously.

He touched your face. "Can I ask you to be patient, my lady? I want to surprise you."

"Surprise me?" You raised your eyebrows.

Marcus smirked. "Make sure you get your things from the room because we're not coming back here again." He said as you walked to the room together.

It was fair to say you didn't have much stuff anyway, given that you were brought here by force. Your old clothes were in a bad state, so they were thrown away. Marcus told you to wear ordinary clothes, and you did. He dressed similarly too. Then you both put on your black cloaks to avoid attention outside. The bad memories you had of this room in the last few days had turned into good memories with Marcus there, so you never thought you would feel a little bit sad when you were about to leave the room.

"My love." Marcus wrapped his arm around you. "If you're not feeling well, we can stay here another night."

"No, I'm fine, we can leave, now," you said with a smile. He put your things in his pera bag and hold your hand. You looked around one last time before leaving the room, noticing the flowers he had brought you on the table. "Marcus! My flowers!"

He stopped you from going there by pulling your hand. "Why don't you leave them here? There are plenty more where we're going. Come."

"What kind of place are we going, I wonder?" You asked as you walked towards the stairs.

"Patience is a virtue, princess." He said, smiling cockily.

"It wouldn't be very virtuous not to answer the Princess's question, would it, General?" You teased him.

He laughed. "So as a princess, you're going to rule over your husband, are you?"

"Can't I?" You asked in a sweet voice.

He stopped and looked at you, his eyes were buttery and intense. "As if you had not already conquered me, as if I were nothing but your humble servant." His voice was really deep, and you could feel your heart beating faster. As he spoke, he brought his lips close to yours.

"Gods above! Are you abandoning me?" Geta's voice interrupted you.

You both looked back at him, his lips twisted like a little boy.

“We can't stay here any longer, brother.”

"But isn't your villa still under repair? And isn't it dangerous out there, Acacius? Where do you think you're taking her?"

"My wife, Lady Aurelia, will be with me. So there's no need to worry, Your Majesty." Marcus spoke in a firm voice. "The soldiers will stay here with you, please do not leave the palace until the day of the council."

Geta kept his eyes on you as if he couldn't hear him. "Make sure of her safety," he muttered.

Marcus squinted at him. "I will."

You sighed. "I'll be fine, brother. I wish you the best of luck with Lady Domna, though." You said quietly.

"I suppose I'll just have to hope that God Fortuna is on my side on that one.” He laughed. He then stepped closer and hugged you. Marcus tensed but remained still. "Take care of yourself and my nephew, or it'll be bad for you."

You smiled and nodded. Marcus squeezed your hand. "We'd better leave now. Your majesty." He bowed his head and turned around, pulling you with him.

——

The sun was about to set when Marcus stopped the horse on the slope of a hill. It had been quite a long and jarring journey for you. While you were on the horse, he walked the other half of the way so as not to tire the horse out with the weight of the two of you. Thankfully, you arrived soon after.

"My lady." He held out his arms and helped you down. It was a wooded area, with the city silhouetted in the distance, and the Colosseum was the most prominent silhouette.

"We need to walk the rest of the way. Do you think you can make it?"

"I believe I can manage, but this is the middle of the woods."

He smiled. "We're not quite there yet, princess." He took your hand, holding the horse's reins in the other. The path was uneven, with many stones and bushes along the way. After a while, you were sweating and out of breath. Marcus tied the horse and slung the saddle bag over his shoulder.

"We're almost there, let me carry you.” He carefully lifted you in his arms. He was considerate and careful when carrying you. After a little while, you became aware of a rumbling sound, which you thought might be water, and turned your head in that direction. After walking among a few trees, Marcus carefully set you down.

"We have arrived."

Your mouth opened in awe as you looked around, taking in your surroundings. Beautiful meadow field with fresh grass and multicolored flowers in nature against a blurry blue sky with clouds. A waterfall was cascading on mountain rocks ahead, the trees with flowers blooming in heavy clusters all over their branches. The gentle chirping of birds and the soothing sound of the waterfall blended together, creating a harmonious ambiance. Could this be what Elysium on Earth is like?

You were blown away by the view. Marcus' arms wrapped around you from behind. "Are you pleased, my love?"

"Marcus, this place is incredible." You murmured.

He leaned down, rested his chin on your shoulder, and whispered in your ear. "A place where no one can find us or bother us. I think I've kidnapped a beautiful princess from the palace for myself." He laughed.

You turned your head towards him. "Oh, that can't be. I'll have to call for help," you teased.

"Do as you please, my lady." His hands grabbed your thighs and pulled against his crotch. "But I must say, no one can hear you here." He grabbed your chin, turned you around and kissed you passionately.

The kiss became heated and all-consuming. Marcus' eager hands quickly found the belt of your dress and quickly undid it. For a moment, you realised you were overexcited and then you tensed up.

"Marcus, are we really going to make love here?" you asked, glancing down at the grass and flowers.

He shrugged. ‘Why not? No one could come here. Besides, I have come prepared." He bent down and opened his saddle bag. "I must ensure my princess is comfortable." He took a linen blanket out of it and laying it down on the grass. Then he held out his hand to you. "My lady.”

As soon as you touched his hand, he pulled you to him, making you gasp. "Relax, my love. Only the birds can see us here." He slowly he lowered the straps of your dress down your arms. "Let them bear witness to our love." He gave you another kiss, and then he carefully slid your dress down your waist let it fall to the ground. Then he took you in his arms and carefully laid you down on the blanket.The gentle breeze from the waterfall caressed your back, but as your body was filled with a sense of desire, burning with lust, you felt no chill. Marcus removed his shawl and tunic with haste and lay down next to you. As his warm hands explored your body, you shivered with excitement at the change in atmosphere. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, a blend of primal and seductive.

"You look absolutely breathtaking lying in the meadow among the flowers." He said it in a husky voice. He took your face in his hands and kissed you deeply. His hands explored every inch of your body, while yours travelled over his shoulders. His warm and inviting lips traced a path to your chin, and his knee pressed firmly between your legs. He sensed your unease and knew how to ease it. He slowly moved his lips from your knees to your hips, and you opened your legs for him, your nervousness now replaced by desire. His strong hands gripped your hips firmly and he smiled triumphantly. All you could feel was his wet tongue, his lips and his beard tickling you as he continued to devour you, all of you. You let out a loud moan as Marcus licked, sucked and bit your aroused folds, most sensitive spot, taking you to the edge. You gripped the hem of the blanket and grass, as moaned loudly not caring if anyone could hear. Gasping for breath, you were surprised to feel the grass between your fingers that you had unintentionally plucked. Marcus wiped your wetness from his chin with his fingers and licked it and settled between your legs. You put your arms around his neck as he kissed you adoringly, hungrily. Both of you savoring the unique feeling of him having you on the meadow under the dark sky. His eager thrusts got deeper, and your back arched, making you look up at the sky. The light was fading, and the birdsong had given way to the sound of crickets. He placed his big hand tenderly under your head as if it were a special pillow for you. His other hand gripped your thigh possessively. His lips traced over your flesh more tenderly and possessively than his hands as he made you his. After a few wonderful thrusts from him and a cry of pleasure from you, his hand grasped the nape of your neck and his mouth found yours. He groaned loudly, almost animalistic as he filled you with his hot liquid, accompanied by the sound of water cascading in the darkness. It was a rather blissful sound to hear. He rested his sweaty forehead between your breasts and remained until your breathing settled. As you ran your fingers through his hair, you felt his lips curl into a smile on your stomach. Then his lips moved from your sternum to your collarbone, to your chin and finally to your lips. When his big body was pulled off of you, the cool night wind licked your damp body and made you shiver.

"You must be feeling cold, my lady," he said, standing up.

"A little," you said, hugging your arms, and rubbing them.

Marcus returned with another blanket. He wrapped it around you quite tightly.

"You came well prepared, General," you giggled.

"I told you so," he smirked. He put on his tunic and started picking up some twigs. "I need to start a fire, so you won't be cold anymore." He said.

You watched him as your whole body was wrapped in the blanket. He picked up some stones from around and put them on the grass. He put the twigs and woods he'd collected in the middle of the stones and opened his saddle bag again. He picked up a flint with a sharp point and a piece of steel, the materials needed to start a fire. He put the flint in the thin bushes and struck the flint with the steel in his hand, and after a few strokes, a spark appeared. Marcus blew on the twigs and it burst into flame. You smiled and clapped your hands. "Impressive, General.”

"The perks of being a soldier, I suppose." He said, smiling, as he threw a few thick sticks and pieces of wood on the fire. You wanted to move closer to the fire to warm your body up, but Marcus had swaddled you like a baby, so you couldn't move. He laughed at your stubborn effort and came to you, wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to the fire. You tugged the blanket and spread your arm to the side, inviting him in. "My love, the fire is good but I need your warmth, will you?"

He smiled. "Whatever my lady wishes for I shall treat as a command." He said and sat down next to you and snuggled up to you under the blanket. His arms wrapped around you and made you lie down with him. "There's no moon tonight, so you can see the stars clearly," he said.

He was correct in his assertion, that the sky had a marvelous sight, akin to a feast of stars. The wood burning with crackle and the sound of the waterfall cascading, as if determined to flow forever, the crickets and the two of you breathing, and the stars themselves—all these elements combined to create a scene that was nothing short of sublime. You simply enjoyed gazing at the stars until you felt your eyes growing heavy.

——

The day before the Council.

As the first light of the day began to illuminate the meadow with its gentle yellow light, the birds had already started their cheerful songs, welcoming the new day. You continued to listen to the sound of the waterfall and the song of the birds without opening your eyes, and after a while, when the bright sunlight filtered through the trees and fell on your eyelids, you closed your eyes tightly. However, you then became aware of a certain darkness, as if a shadow had fallen, and you decided to open your eyes. When you did so, you were somewhat surprised to see that Marcus's big hand was right above your face. Had he perhaps been protecting you from the sunlight? You took his hand, brought it to your lips and kissed it.

“Morning.” You murmured into his palm, his thumb tracing the curve of your lips.

"My lady, I've decided to forego making a list, but I wonder if I might call this morning the best morning ever?"

"You may do so, General." You smiled.

He smiled back, then locked his eyes on yours. "Your eyes shine almost green in the sunlight like an oasis in the desert, so beautiful." He touched your face with his hand and leaned in to kiss you, with love, passion, and devotion. "You must be hungry," he said after breaking the kiss. He lifted the blanket from around himself and stood up. You sat down and looked at him curiously.

"Did you bring food too?" You asked while you were fixing your hair, taking a few leaves out with your fingers. You got up, found your tunic in the grass and put it on.

"I need to make sure my princess is well-fed." Marcus returned to your side with the bundle in his hand. He sat down next to you and undid the bundle's knots, taking out a few pieces of bread and fruit. He popped a piece of bread into your mouth and then into his own. He peeled the apple for you and made sure you ate it all.

"My lady, I must give this back to you."

"Hmm?" When you looked at him he was holding your scabbard in his hand. You opened your eyes wide and grabbed Marcus' wrist with both hands. "Marcus! This was poisoned!" You shouted.

"Calm down, my love. I've washed and cleaned it. Look." He pulled the knife out of its sheath with a sharp metal sound, it was shining brilliantly in the sunlight.

"Then, you know what I've done." You mumbled. You bowed your head, that tormenting feeling was there again. He put a finger under your chin and lifted your head to look at him.

"I know, and I'm proud of you. Honestly, I'm impressed, I don't think even I could have thought of such a thing." He kissed the tip of your nose. "I've fallen in love with you once again, princess."

You raised your eyebrows. "Really?"

"Indeed. I think it's an act quite befitting the wife of a Roman General, so you needn't feel guilty, my love."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your head in his collarbone. "Thank you. I don't feel guilty anymore, I guess."

He wrapped his arm around you. "Good. It's a relief to know that he died in the same pain I suffered before.”

You felt a pang of sadness when you thought about how you'd seen him suffer the first time you saw him.

You heard a horse approaching, its hooves striking the ground with a sudden, startling noise. Marcus quickly stood up and reached for his sword. "You stay here," he said, gesturing with his hand. It sounded like it was coming from where you first came from. Marcus drew his sword and made his way forward with caution. You got tense, but then he put his sword back in its sheath.

"Octavius," he said quietly, looking at you and then walking over.

"Sir!" You felt a sense of relief when you heard Octavius' voice. He gave you a salute from a distance.

"Why have you come? Is something wrong?" Marcus asked.

"The Council has decided to meet urgently today, sir."

"How? It was scheduled to meet tomorrow."

"Sir, I believe it was a unanimous decision, although I'm not entirely sure. I am here to inform you and also..." Octavius looked at you hesitantly.

"Continue."

"Lady Aurelia must be in the palace, as Caracalla's act has not yet been invalidated and she is therefore still under house arrest. The Praetorian guards are looking for her everywhere."

Marcus clenched his jaw. "Damn you Caracalla." He hissed.

You stood up and approached the two of them. "If that's what it takes, I must go, Marcus. I will be free after the council declares so, right?"

"No, something doesn't feel right. And I can't just trust the guards with Macrinus still out there. That cunt will surely do something to disrupt the council."

"So what do we do, sir?”

"It would be best for her to wait elsewhere until the council has made its decision."

"Where else can I stay for the time being?" You asked, looking at him.

"Somewhere where he or the guards can't find you easily," he murmured. Then something must have occurred to him because he smiled and turned to Octavius. "Inform a few men and station them by the poorhouse. Lady Aurelia will stay there until the council is over."

"Yes, sir."

"Off you go, quickly!"

Octavius nodded and rushed towards his horse.

"Will I be staying in the poorhouse?" You were surprised.

"Yes, my lady, it is safer for you to stay there. Most of the Praetorian guards are still on Macrinus' side. Why do you think I put men in the palace in the first place? Come now my love, I need get you to there as soon as possible.”

—-

Upon your arrival at the poorhouse, you were greeted by the soldiers he had sent for, who were already there. You were feeling somewhat fatigued. The children approached you and gathered around you, expressing their longing for your presence. You smiled at them, although your body was rather tired. Marcus was quick to perceive this and called out to the women in the vicinity.

"Princess is to take a seat and make sure she is comfortable."

They nodded and carried a lectus to the courtyard. Marcus made you sit and knelt next to you, taking your hand in his.

"My love, please await here patiently. Once this is all over, I shall send the carriage to retrieve you."

"Do not concern yourself with me. Please attend to Geta at the council; he will need your presence, there.”

He nodded. "It will all be over soon, my lady and I will then be solely focused on exploring the possibilities of returning home from my duties at an earlier hour." He kissed the top of your hand and stood up. "I will arrange for you to be taken as soon as the council makes a decision.” He said, mounting. He looked at you one last time before he kicked his horse forward. You smiled at him.

Once he'd left, you closed your eyes and leaned back to get some rest. The soldiers who had stayed to keep an eye on you spread out and, like you, waited to see what the council would decide.

After a short rest, a few of the boys you had met earlier approached you and asked you questions about Marcus. They saw him as a hero. You had a long chat about his armour, his sword and the tigers he killed in the Colosseum. You found yourself hoping that one day you might be able to have a chat with your own children about their father and his victories. You had hoped to give Marcus a son. You hoped to raise a son who was as brave, fearless, and good-hearted as Marcus.

It was not long after noon when the sound of a carriage's wheels and the echo of horses' hooves pounding on the stone streets was heard. When the soldiers gathered there, you stood up and looked around curiously. One of the soldiers then demanded that the coachman identify himself.

"Sir, General Acacius sent me here to take Lady Aurelia to Palatine Hill." He said to them.

"Has the Council announced their decision?" You asked.

The man bowed his head. "Forgive me, my lady, I am not yet informed, I am merely following orders, the General has ordered me to take you."

"We will accompany you, my lady," said one of the soldiers.

You nodded. Marcus had given them strict orders, after all. One of them helped you into the carriage and you sat down. The council meeting was over sooner than you thought it would be, but Marcus wouldn't have sent it for you if the decision hadn't been made. You couldn't wait to get back to him and then back to the villa together. You were filled with excitement.

However, the carriage suddenly stopped with a loud horse neighed. You gripped your seat tightly to prevent yourself from falling.

"My lady, forgive me!" the coachman called out to you.

You peeked out the door to see what was going on. The road ahead was obstructed by the overturned carts of market vendors. It seemed as though the owners of the carts were engaged in a discussion.

"Head to the other way, turn round now!" One of the soldiers shouted at the coachman. He then turned toward you. "My lady, please get inside and sit down."

You did as he said. The coachman turned his horses in the other direction and entered a narrow alleyway, causing a slower pace of travel while the soldiers followed the carriage from behind. After traversing a few streets, the coachman brought his horses to a halt once more. And before the soldiers had a chance to react, they were struck by arrows that came from nowhere. When you heard horses neighed loudly by fear, you rushed out and were shocked by the sight you saw. They had fallen from their horses and perished from the arrows that had struck their bodies. You looked ahead and saw a few Praetorian guards with bows in their hands.

"Lady Aurelia."

A chill ran down your spine as you heard the familiar voice. You turned your head slowly to face him.

Macrinus approached you with an arrogant grin. "Did you miss me?”

----

 

Chapter 15: The Plan

“Parcere proditori, proditio est innocenti.”

To spare the traitor is to betray the innocent.

 

Marcus, after leaving you in the poorhouse, made his way to Palatine Hill. He had a bad feeling about it and it was getting worse. It was tough for him to leave you each time. However, today's council was of greater importance than any that had preceded it. It might be the case that this could alter the course of Rome and his own fate.

He got the latest update from his soldiers before heading into the Domus Severiana. He had trust in the Praetorian guards at the gate and those in the courtyard, but with Geta's safety at stake, he couldn't be sure. Octavius met him in the courtyard and followed him into the armoury to help him put on his armour. The next step was to get Geta to the Curia Julia safely. He must do this on his own, with his most trusted soldiers. As a Roman general, Marcus was an expert in a variety of military strategies and tactics, with a particular focus on offensive operations. It was for this reason that he maintained a considerable military presence on the Field of Mars, prepared for any eventuality. They were ready to act on his orders. He had invested a great deal of time and effort in training them, with the aim of making them all well-raised soldiers and ensuring they were prepared to take action should the need arise. He was certain that he would eventually have to deal with the Praetorian Guard. However, since you came into his life, his priorities have shifted somewhat. He was no longer seeking to overthrow the Emperor, but rather to assist him in becoming a capable leader for Rome. Perhaps he was reluctant to witness further unrest and conflict in the city. He was willing to do whatever he could to ensure a brighter future for his own and for all Roman children.

Marcus put on his armour and armed himself with his sword before heading to the courtyard with Octavius. Geta and his mother, Julia, were there, too, with a few guards awaiting him. As soon as Geta saw them, he walked toward them.

"Acacius, where's my sister? Why didn't you bring her with you?" he asked, a little louder than necessary.

"She's somewhere safe, so there's no need to worry."

"That's nonsense! You should have brought her here with you. I don't think it's a good idea for her to stay outside the palace right now."

Marcus gave him a stern look. "So you're the one who ordered the guards to look for her everywhere?"

"Yes, I wasn't sure how Macrinus would take the council's urgent decision, so I thought maybe I could bring her here this way."

Marcus strode over to him, looking angry, which made Geta tense up.

"You knew she was with me."

"But I didn't know where you were, so I had to get them to look for you both. Roughly half of the guards were still on his side. I just wanted to make sure that my guard could find you before anyone else did."

Marcus tried to calm down, taking a deep breath. "This shows that the palace isn't a safe place either. Fortunately, she's safe now, my men are protecting her," he said then. “May I ask how the Council decided to meet today?” His eyes shifted to Julia, but she averted her gaze.

"It is difficult to convey the extent of my mother's efforts, but we have now gained the upper hand in the council," he said, winking at her. “It was unanimously agreed that an urgent meeting should be convened, today.”

Marcus was not interested in the specifics of her success. “I see.” He murmured.

“So let's proceed with the next steps and conclude this, shall we?”

Marcus nodded. "Indeed."

By noon, Geta and Julia's carriage had arrived at the Roman Forum. As they made their way through the streets, they were accompanied by other soldiers and guards who appeared to be loyal to Geta for the time being. The members of the Senate were already assembled in the Curia Julia. While Geta and Julia proceeded up the stairs, Marcus followed at a distance, taking care to observe his surroundings. However, the issue was not external, but rather within the Council chamber itself. Some of the Council members were absent, and it was not difficult to discern which ones. The other members expressed their concerns about their absence, and Geta was insistent on commencing the session. However, this was contrary to the law. Therefore, they decided to wait, but this was about to exacerbate the situation further. Marcus was concerned that this endless waiting time might be a sign of something bad.

—-

‘What is this place? Where are you taking me?’ you asked Macrinus. You followed him through narrow streets and then through a tunneled passage into a large building.

"You will see it soon enough, my lady." He replied confidently.

You didn't want to come to this strange place with that bastard, but you had no choice. He had his plans for today, no doubt about it. You soon passed through the stone walls that resembled those under the Colosseum and observed a group of men. They were all members of the Senate, and you knew them at once by their white togas.

"What's the meaning of this?" Your voice was loud.

Macrinus ignored you, and the members of the Senate looked at you with a hint of hesitation.

"You really brought her," said one of them.

"I always get what I want, consul. You should have known this by now." Macrinus grinned then clasped his hands. "Now that we have the princess, we shall move on to the next stage."

"Consul Macrinus, I'm not entirely convinced if that's the best course of action. I think it is unwise to abduct General Acasius' wife, the princess, and force them to cooperate." One of them said.

"Council must have met by now. Geta's guards will be looking for us."

"And do not forget the Acacius's soldiers!"

"Cease the complaining!" Macrinus yelled at them. "Why can't you see the opportunity that I see? They can't start the session without us, yet they can't make a decision either. And as for Geta, he is not like Caracalla." He turned towards you. "He values his sister more than you realise.” Then looked at them once again. "So, Acacius will bring us Geta with his own hands and hand him over, and I will kill him. This will make my path to the throne. Then we'll all win. See? It's straightforward. There's no need to complain like old ladies, is there?”

"You'll all be punished for this!" You shouted. “You'll lose your statues, your title, everything you have! Release me at once, I'm warning you!"

The consuls exchanged glances, and Macrinus became visibly upset and approached and grabbed your arm.

"I see you've been very talkative since I last saw you, Aurelia. However, you're wasting your breath. I'll take your brother's life eventually and become an emperor.”

"It will never happen!" You barked. He touched your hair, and you turned your head to the other side in disgust. "You will witness it. I will make sure of that." He looked at the guards. "Take the princess away and lock her up."

"Let go of me!" You resisted, struggling. But the guards ignored you.

It didn't seem like an easy situation to get out of this time. Your chest tightened as you considered the possibility that he might win. If that were to happen, it would undoubtedly mean losing everything. It would be disastrous.

You descended the stone stairs and were taken aback by what you saw. There were cells with iron bars, like a dungeon. You stopped and looked at the guards.

“Please keep walking, my lady.” His tone was stern.

When you refused, the guards looked at each other and one of them grabbed your arm.

"'Let go of my arm!" You yelled, trying to fight back but to no avail. The other one opened the door to one of the cells and they forced you inside.

"I am your princess! You can't do this! Can't you hear me?"

They kept ignoring you, and locked the cell. You gripped the bars. "Please, don't do this, let me out! Please!" Your voice was pleading this time, but it seemed to have no effect on them. One of them stood by the bars and the other near the stairs. You gave up begging, turned your back on them, and looked into the cell. It was almost the filthiest place you had ever been. The stone walls looked like weathered rock. The floor was dirty, dusty and filthy. You were so tired, that your feet were about to betray you, but you had no intention of sitting down or leaning against the wall, so you decided to cross your arms and just wait. You had never felt so helpless, not even when you were running away from Flavius in the woods. There was nothing more horrible than having your freedom taken away, the feeling of being trapped made your chest ache.

Before long, you heard footsteps echoing through the hall. You looked in that direction and saw the guards nodding to Macrinus. He had his usual self-assured look on his face, bowing respectfully to you as if he had done nothing wrong.

You went over to the iron bars. “Get me out of here at once!’

He gave a little smirk. “I'm really sorry about the poor facilities, my lady, but I am a little unsure that you'd behave yourself. After all, you have a very stubborn and determined temperament.”

You pursed your lips. “What's this place anyway? What gives you the right to lock me in here?”

Macrinus put his hands on the iron bars and observed as if he were seeing them for the first time. “This is where the gladiators stay. They get their first training at this school before heading to the Colosseum."

"Do I look like a gladiator to you?"

Macrinus laughed. "Of course not, my lady. Let's just say I'm playing it safe."

"Locking me up won't convince me of anything."

"Is that so? Hmm, maybe not you, but I think I could easily persuade your brother or your husband. They both care a lot about you after all."

You took a step towards him. "What exactly are you planning? As soon as you ascend to the throne, you will exile my husband, declare our marriage null and void, and force me to marry you?”

“More or less, yes.”

"That's not going to happen! I'm never going to marry you, not in this life, or the next!" Your voice bounced off the cold stone walls with a ringing sound.

Macrinus seemed serious this time. "Then you'll be stuck under home detention for the rest of your life. There won't be a general husband coming to your rescue, nor a foolish brother in hopeless in love with you either."

"Shut your damn mouth!" Your body was shaking with anger.

"I'm giving you one last chance, Aurelia. Think carefully. Once Geta's gone, I'll be the new emperor. And then you'll do what I want." Macrinus put his hands on the bars just above yours. "'I thought it would be better to exile Acacius for his heroism, so that would not provoke a public outrage, but if you try my patience and resist, I will make you watch him die in the Colosseum. I swear I will."

You swallowed, even the thought was enough to make your heart ache. "I am carrying his child, how can you be so heartless, so damned?”

"A child?” He laughed. “As a medicus I'm sure you can find ways to get rid of that.”

"Damn you!" You reached through the bars to hit him in the face, but he grabbed your hand. He made you put your hand on his collar. There was a marking on his chest.

"Take a look at this! Do you know what this is? It's your father's mark!"

You observed the mark. "Were you a slave?"

Macrinus released your hand and you pulled it back.

"I was, during your father's time, but I managed to get into the senate. He was a strong and powerful man, your father. A soldier, a dictator, and a tough opponent. I learned a lot from him, Aurelia. But I still couldn't gain his trust, no matter how hard I tried. Fortunately, his sons weren't like him."  He pointed his finger at you. "You're more like your father than they are. I realised the first time I saw you in Egypt. Look, no matter how much you refuse, you can't escape what's coming. I will get what I deserve."

"No, that will never happen. You will lose. No one will remember you."

This time he sounded angry. "I made you a princess! You got your title back thanks to me! How about a little gratitude?”

"I was planning to come here anyway. Vicius and I had been planning to travel to Rome together to find my true family. If circumstances had been different the rebellion hadn't broken out, and the Roman soldiers hadn't come to put it down. That night..." You took a moment to collect your thoughts. Despite the pain that these memories still evoke, you have learned to embrace them because they have led you to meet Marcus. "He had already told me everything, except who my father was. We were going to open the letter together as soon as we arrived in Rome. You only hastened the process.”

"Vicius," he said, sounding annoyed. He then took a deep breath. "I've had some success in this process, but also had a few failures, and that man is one of them. If he'd handed you over to me then, before Geta and Caracalla ascended the throne, things might be different now."

His disrespect for Vicius was unacceptable and made you even angrier.

"What about Gaius? Isn't he also a great failure of yours?"

"Well, not entirely. If he hadn't taken your father's letter to him as an offer to marry you, who knows, he might still be alive now. He was the one who caused his own death. It's in my interest for him to die if there's any chance of him ascending to the throne." He smiled, but then his face turned angry again. "But he's not the biggest failure or obstacle." He said as he approached the bars, his face was close enough to touch the surface of the iron bars. "Acacius. He's the biggest obstacle that needs to be removed from my path, and I'm going to make sure that I do."

You brought your face closer to his. "My husband, Acacius, will be the end of you. You can be sure of that.”

He put a hand to his chin as if he was thinking. "I am doubt about that Aurelia. Because you see, soon, he will be preoccupied with bringing Geta to me. And once he does, I will take your brother's life and that will be the end of your husband as well." He grinned. "My plan is working perfectly and I will get what I want."

"He is not stupid. He will not fall into your trap.”

“He has no choice. He'll do anything to get you back, I know that."

You knew he was right and you hated it.

"Enough talk. Time to take action." He turned towards the guard. "If there's any trouble, kill her."

You swallowed, trying to stay calm. He then bowed his head to you and headed towards the stairs.

—-

As time passed, the atmosphere in the Curia Julia became increasingly tense. Marcus was at breaking point, and Geta was no different. As Octavius rushed into the hall, almost tripping on the stairs, everyone looked at him with curiosity.

"Sir, you need to come outside," he said to Marcus, keeping his voice low.

"Is something wrong?"

Geta stood up and walked towards them.

"What's going on?"

Octavius’ face was grave as he was about to give them bad news. He looked at the councilors and then at his general. "Sir, Macrinus sent a guard to speak with you..." Octavius looked down in distress.

Marcus frowned, wondering if he was about to hear what he feared most.

"What does he want? Speak at once!" Geta shouted.

Julia tried to calm the council members.

"Princess Aurelia..." Octavius exhaled a deep breath. "Macrinus has abducted her-"

Without even thinking, Marcus stormed to the entrance to leave the hall. Geta followed him, but his mother grabbed his arm.

"Your Majesty! You must stay here-"

"You do that!" he said, roughly pulling his arm away from her.

Marcus rushed down the stairs and, noticing the guard Octavius had pointed at, grabbed his sword and held it to the man's throat. The guard let out a little gasp. "Tell me where she is now!' He roared.

All the soldiers and guards tensed and gripped the hilt of their swords.

"General Acacius, Sir Macrinus is waiting for you at his villa." He said, out of breath, struggling to get the words out. "He also said that he wants you to bring Emperor Geta with you."

“How dare he summon me like this?” Geta shouted. "Acacius, round up your men, and let's move to take him out now, shall we?"

The soldiers looked at their general. Seizing the opportunity of Marcus' thoughtful demeanor, Macrinus' guard took a step back.

"Sir Macrinus only wants the general and Emperor Geta." He stated arrogantly. "If you care about the Princess, you'd better do as-”

Suddenly a schwing sound was heard and Octavius's sword severed his jugular, and he collapsed, tumbling down the stairs and staining the marble steps with his blood. They all watched him die with a deadpan expression.

"Why wait? We must leave now Acacius," Geta touched his shoulder.

Marcus shook his head. “No, he'll kill you the moment I take you there, I can't let it.”

"I'm flattered, general, but this is your wife we're talking about, my sister."

Marcus sheathed his sword. "I am aware, but we must act wisely. If we fall into his trap, it will be the end of us all, which is exactly what he wants us to do."

"So we'll just leave Aurelia in his filthy hands?"

Marcus gave him a deadly look. "Don't you dare speak like you care more about my wife than I do!"

"Then act like you do!" Geta barked.

“General Acacius! Emperor Geta!”

They both turned to face the man calling to them. A man in a black cloak, familiar to Marcus, came up the stairs and approached them. The soldiers tensed, but Marcus gestured to them that it was all right.

"Who the hell are you?" Geta asked, squinting at the man.

"I am Lextus, Your Majesty," the man said, bowing. He looked at Marcus and then back at Geta. "I have something very important to tell you, both of you."

"Man of yours?" Geta asked Marcus.

"No, he is a relative of yours, from Leptis Magna, didn't your mother tell you?"

Geta gave him a dirty look.

"Speak up, what's so important?" Marcus asked.

"We've been tracking Macrinus for a while and we know where he is."

"If that's what you wanted to say, you've come in vain," Geta said, pointing to the guard's lifeless body lying at the bottom of the stairs.. "That cunt Macrinus is already waiting for us to go to him."

"It's a trap, he's luring you into it, Your Majesty. The Lady Aurelia is not with him, she is elsewhere," he said, and as soon as he mentioned your name, Marcus and Geta's eyes locked on him. "We know where he's keeping her, that's what I came here to tell you."

Marcus grabbed him by the collar of his cloak. "How do you know? When did you see her? Speak at once!"

"The General asked you a question!" Geta demanded.

Lexus hadn't expected either of them to react this way, he had to take a breath to speak. "Praetorians with Macrinus' lead intercepted Lady Aurelia's carriage in the alleyway. We followed the carriage, which took us straight to Ludus Magnus. We saw Lady Aurelia enter with the guards, and I have men stationed there to keep an eye on things. We are unsure why, but we know some consuls are there."

Geta looked at Marcus. "Why would he take her to the damn gladiator training school? What is he trying to do?"

"Tell me, is Macrinus still there or in his villa?" Marcus demanded.

"He left a few hours ago, we believe he went to there."

"We need to get to Aurelia now!" Geta said.

"The guards will be watching us. If we head there now, they'll inform him. Or even worse, they might hurt her before we get there." Marcus said through clenched teeth.

"What are we going to do then?"

Marcus thought for a moment. He had to think fast and come up with a plan, but he wasn't sure what to do.

It was time to think strategically and take action. As a soldier and general, he was an expert in this. "We need to make some time," he muttered.

"So let's not waste, standing here," Geta whined, adjusting his crown.

Watching him, a plan came to Marcus' mind. "Your Majesty, we must take you to Palatine Hill immediately."

"Are you mad? Macrinus's men are all over the place. Didn't you just say so yourself?”

Marcus exhaled. “That's why we have to leave now. I'm asking you to trust me.”

Geta narrowed his eyes. "In the past, I wouldn't have trusted you, but now I think I do."

"You don't have much choice, after all," Marcus teased as they hurried down the stairs together.

Once Geta was in the carriage, Marcus called Aris over. "Head to the Field of Mars right away and let them know I've ordered the troops to assemble around Macrinus' villa. Try to be as stealthy as you can."

"Yes, sir." He said and quickly walked in the opposite direction.

"The rest of you, come with me," Marcus said. They all nodded and got on their horses.

Geta called out to him as the carriage was moving.  "Acacius, I hope you know what you're doing!"

He still didn't fully trust the other guards accompanying Geta, so he didn't want to tell him his plan yet.

"I need both your patience and your trust, Your Majesty."

"You've got both as long as you save my sister.”

Marcus felt his heart beating faster with worry. He really wanted to come and get you out of there as soon as possible. But he had to think carefully. He knew that if he acted without thinking things through, he might lose you. Besides, he had to be absolutely sure that he got Macrinus this time too.

The guards at Palatine Hill were surprised to see the carriage coming earlier than expected. Geta stepped into the courtyard with Marcus. He tried to take Geta away from the guards, however, two of them came over to them.

"General, we want to help you. We are loyal to the emperor Geta, you can trust us."

Marcus seemed unsure.

"They are in a dilemma because their commander has not yet been chosen, Acacius. Macrinus' side and mine." Geta explained.

"Yes, there are others outside who are on Macrinus' side, sir. But I'm not, and my team here are all loyal to you, highness.”

"You were always so keen to be a Praetorian," Marcus said, looking at the guard. He realised that he was his childhood friend.

"Do you remember me? I thought you might have forgotten." He gave a little smile.

"Yes, you weren't eager to join the army, so I didn't hassle you about it too much."

"I wanted to serve the emperor, General Acacius."

"I see," said Marcus, smiling back.

"I was really proud when I saw you become a general of Rome, you know."

Marcus nodded his thanks.

"That's very touching gentleman, but can you tell us what to do now, our glorious general?" Geta said impatiently.

"Cato!" Marcus called him to his side.

He came running at once. "Sir!"

Marcus put his hand on his shoulder. "We need your help."

Geta frowned. "Isn't that your squire? How can he help us?"

Marcus smiled confidently. "He has the same hair colour and the same size as you, your majesty."

"Excuse me?”

"We're going to confuse them. Could you take off your clothes and give them to Cato?"

Geta opened his eyes wide in surprise. "What did you just say? Tell me you are joking!"

Geta wasn't the only one taken aback. Cato and Octavius exchanged glances, clearly surprised.

Marcus let out a sigh. "He'll take your place, so we won't put you in danger."

"So this is your master plan, Acacius? You seem to have forgotten how clever that cunt is. Sooner or later, he'll figure out that your squire doesn't look handsome as I do." He said smugly. 

"It's not really a concern," Marcus said, grasping Cato's arm. "This buys us some time, at least. Until I get the Aurelia out of there."

They walked together to Geta's chamber. Geta grumbled the whole way but seemed to be convinced at last. Cato looked a bit out of place in the emperor's clothes. He glanced at them hesitantly. Marcus couldn't help but grin when he saw him in Geta's attire. Geta sized him up.

"Ugh, you look like another evil twin of mine! That is all I need!”

"Forgive me, Your Majesty." Cato said, bowing his head.

Marcus held out his hand to Geta. "Your Majesty, can you give me your crown too?"

"Gods above! This is disrespectful and unacceptable, Acacius!"

Marcus rolled his eyes. "It's just a symbol, an item. It has no significance. You don't need the crown to prove that you are an emperor, do you?"

“Huh, you just enjoy lecturing me, don't you?" Geta pursed his lips.

"We're running out of time here."

"Fine!" He gave his crown to him. Cato held his breath as Marcus placed the crown on his head.

"Hmph, if this won't work, I swear on Vesta's fire that I will punish you Acacius."

Marcus smirked in response.

Geta tugged fabric of his gown which made him look like a commoner. '"Whatever, let's get this done as soon as possible and then I shall drink wine until I get drunk so I can forget all about it." He refused to look at their faces as he left his chamber.

As they descended the stairs, Marcus touched Cato on the shoulder. "Keep your face hidden at all costs. Even if they can't see it from a distance, there's still a risk."

"I'll do my best, general."

Marcus tapped his back. "May the Gods be on our side."

And as they approached the entrance to the great courtyard, they put their plan into action.

"Your Majesty, please," Marcus gestured to Geta.

Geta pursed his lips and involuntarily pulled the deep black cloak further up over his head. The gate opened and Marcus approached the carriage with Cato who was in the Emperor's toga, covering his face as naturally as possible. Cato struggled and pretended to resist him. The guards waiting outside, watching them, did not seem to suspect anything. Marcus swiftly pushed Cato into the carriage and told the coachman to start the horses. He then turned to the guards.

"Lead the way!" He said to them. They kicked their horses toward in front of the carriage. Marcus and the others got on their own horses, following the carriage from behind.

The other guards, those who had stayed behind in the palace to protect the real emperor Geta, put on their cloaks over their armour. They were going to take him back to Curia Julia in secret. It was already pretty quiet, as everyone else had left to accompany the false emperor. As per the plan, Marcus must turn his horse around halfway down the road and head for the Domus Vectiliana (Ludus Magnus).

After all, they were acting as if they didn't know where you were, and leading Geta straight into Macrinus' hands which it was not. So the plan was working perfectly. A little later, Marcus glanced at Octavius, and turned his horse round, making the guards surprised. The carriage kept going forward. They looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Their leader cursed and called out to some of them.

"Go after the general! The others stay with me!”

Marcus looked back over his shoulder at the guards who were chasing him as he rode his horse at a gallop. There were five of them. He needed to get rid of them without attracting attention.

"Come on!" He challenged them, drew his sword and turned his horse. He had one of them in his sights. He aimed at his leg and lunged before he could draw his sword, and the man let out a groan and fell off his horse. They were getting closer to the streets.The others yelled and drew their swords, rushing to attack Marcus but he was quick to dodge the attacks of two of them and managed to knock them off their horses. He rode his horse into the alleys to get rid of the rest. People screamed and ran to get out of the way to avoid being crushed by the horses.

"Where the hell is he heading to?" One of them asked the other.

"I think he found out where the princess is! Go there and warn the others before he gets there!”

As soon as they said that, they were both struck down by arrows from nowhere and fell to the ground. Marcus turned and saw Lexus and his men. He stopped his horse and nodded his thanks. Then, without wasting any time, he ordered the curious people out of the way and kicked his horse forward again. Since there was no obstacle in his way, he should be heading to get to you now.

----

The minutes and hours passed by, and the pain in your legs became increasingly difficult to bear. And you gave up. As you sat on the floor in the cold, smelly, dirty cell, you played with the wedding ring on your finger. Your mind was racing with questions. Why wasn't anyone coming? Or is it too late for everything now? Marcus, Geta... Your heart ached. It was torture, waiting there helplessly, hoping for rescue desperately, unable to do anything. You suddenly felt a pressure under your belly, right where your womb was. You put your hands right on it.

"Ssshh, calm down, my little one. I know you've been through a lot, but hang in there a little longer, please. Your father will come to save us, I promise you. Take his strength, take his courage and hold on. Our little miracle. We will always love you and protect you. So please try to hang in there.”

All of a sudden, a few shouts and the sound of swords clashing came from upstairs. The guards immediately tensed up and gripped the hilts of their swords. You jumped to your feet, unlike them, you felt excitement. Your heart was filled with hope. The sound of the iron gate opening loudly reverberated off the stone walls, and a moment later you saw a guard rolling down the stairs with the deafening sound of his iron armour ringing in your ears. The guards immediately drew their swords at someone on the stairs. First, you heard his angry roar and then Marcus himself rushed down the stairs, kicked one of the guards, and pushed him against the wall. The other swung his sword at him, Marcus crouched and lunged and cut his leg.

"Marcus!" You called out to him cheerfully.

He looked at you and smiled, but the other guard lunged at him, waving his sword.

"Marcus look out!" You pointed at him.

He managed to avoid the lunge at the last moment and hit his opponent in the back with the handle of his sword, causing him to stumble. As he lunged at him again, Marcus drew his pugio and knocked his sword out of his hand with both sword and pugio. And with a really neat move, he cut his neck. The stone walls were covered in a red, rusty-smelling liquid. You ran over to the iron bars and grabbed them. Marcus wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand and looked at you. He looked at you with an intense gaze, his brown eyes sparkling.

"My lady." He said in a soft, velvety voice. "Forgive me for being late." He reached his hand through the bars to touch your face. "How could he imprison you in such a vile place? Did he hurt you?"

You grasped his hand with both of yours and kissed it. "No, I'm alright, don't worry." You forced a smile.

"How can I not, my love? My beloved. My soul. My breath." He then let out a sigh of relief, stroking your chin with his thumb. "Thank the Gods I found you safe and sound." He then gripped the iron bars and jerked them angrily, cursing.

"That man has the key," you said, pointing to one of the guards lying on the floor. Marcus went to him, bent down, and turned his lifeless body to check.

"Geta? Is he okay?”

"He is for now. We don't have much time, though. We need to get out of here now." He took the keys from the man and approached you. He unlocked the cell, setting you free. You took a step towards him and reached out to hug him.

"My lady, there is some blood on me-" You wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his chest. "...and I'm not very clean." He finished his sentence with a murmur.

"I don't care." You said, closing your eyes and hugging him tighter. You ignored the blood smearing your cheek from his armour and the smell of it.

He lifted his hand to touch your hair, but his hand was covered in blood. He clenched his hand into a fist and wrapped his arm around you, inhaling your scent without touching you. He then pulled back.

"Aurelia, we have to leave, now." His voice was firm.

You nodded and walked towards the stairs while avoiding stepping in the puddle of blood on the ground. Marcus noticed your nervousness and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you into his lap. You looked at his face as he walked up the stairs with you in his arms. He looked very serious and stern, and you could guess what he was feeling, and what he was thinking. It must have been hard for him to find you in a situation where he almost lost you somehow, and to fight to make sure that didn't happen. To kill someone every time, to have blood on his hands. But for Marcus, finding you safe and sound was enough, he didn't care about the rest. He walked through the countless guards lying lifeless on the ground and carried you out in his arms. You were angry that he had to kill them because of Macrinus. It was all his fault, so many people had died because of him so far. Marcus lowered you to the ground beside his horse.

"It may be a bit of a rough ride, but try to hold on, will you?"

You nodded. "I can manage.”

He smiled and moved the saddle back a little so you could sit on it. He then settled in front of you. You put your arms around his waist. Marcus took hold of your arms around him. "Hold on tighter, princess."

Even though you couldn't see his face, you knew he was smiling. He grabbed the horse's reins and kicked his horse forward. You wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could. With each jolt, your cheek bumped against his back.

"Where are we heading now?" You asked.

As you passed the Colosseum, you noticed the sun was setting over the hills ahead.

"First, I'll take you to the Curia Julia."

You tilted your head to get a better look at his face. "I'm not coming with you?"

He raised an eyebrow and looked at you out of the corner of his eye. "No, Aurelia, I've got a few platoons of my soldiers heading to the area around Macrinus' villa. We need to get ready for the upcoming skirmish."

"You're going to fight the Praetorian Guards?"

He sighed, “I hope not. But if it's necessary to finish off Macrinus, yes.”

You swallowed, nothing was over yet. "Why Curia Julia?"

"Geta is there with the other consuls. The rest of the guards will be guarding them. It's the safest place for you right now.”

Marcus pulled up his horse near the stairs of the Curia Julia. He dismounted and then led you down. A few of the guards came over and nodded at you.

"If there's any trouble, make sure you keep Princess Aurelia and Emperor Geta safe." He spoke to one of them in a firm tone.

"We shall protect them with our lives, general! You just finish him off!" The man put his hand on his chest. "Vae victis.”

Marcus replied. "Vae victis." Then he mounted his horse quickly and looked at you.

"Come back safely!" You said, looking at him.

He nodded and turned his horse around, kicking it forward. You watched him leave until he was out of sight.

"This way, my lady," the guard said.

You felt abandoned as you climbed the stairs with him. Soon you heard a familiar voice.

"Sister!" You looked towards Geta's voice and your eyes widened in surprise. He was wearing a black cloak over regular attire. And what's more, he was in an official building like the Curia Julia with it.

He hugged you and pulled back to look at you. "I was so worried about you, are you alright?"

You nodded your head, it was a little strange to see him like this. "What happened to your fancy toga?"

"Your husband's ingenious plan." He said, rolling his eyes. "Come, rest inside. Your face is as white as marble." He put his arm around you and pulled you inside.

—-

As dusk fell, Marcus was urging his horse to a rapid pace, hastening towards Macrinus' villa. What he saw coming down the hill wasn't quite what he'd expected. His troops had already arrived and it was clear that a battle had taken place and probably been won, but Macrinus was nowhere to be seen.

"General!" One of the soldiers recognised him.

Marcus looked around and noticed Cato in the distance, who was wounded near the carriage ahead. Felix and Aris came over to him. "What the hell happened?" He asked them.

"Sir, the plan worked, but Macrinus wounded Cato and then they attacked us. We managed to kill them all, but unfortunately, he escaped and we couldn't stop him."

"How do you mean he escaped?" Marcus’ voice was like a roar.

"Octavius and a few soldiers went after him, sir."

"Which way did they go?"

"That way," Aris said, pointing down the hill.

"I'll go after them. All of you, gather around at once. Take the wounded ones to the Field of Mars."

"Sir, what about them?"

Marcus looked in the direction he was pointing and saw the members of the senate who were loyal to Macrinus. They were looking at him with a look of concern on their faces.

"The rest of you, take them to the Roman Forum and wait there for my arrival." He said, looking at them from a distance. "Can you confirm that the other troops are still controlling the entrances and exits to the city?"

"Yes, sir. The city is currently sealed off."

"Good." He said, pulling on the reins of his horse, which reared up with a loud neigh. "Make them assemble at once and get moving!" He commanded.

As he rode, perhaps faster than he had ever ridden before, determined to catch Macrinus at any cost, he realised that he missed his horse, Dromos. He promised himself that when all this was over, he would return home and see his old friend again. And then he could go out riding with you again. However, at the moment, he just had to focus on finding and getting rid of the source of all his recent problems. Before long, he heard the sound of swords clashing, so he rode towards it. He saw his soldiers and the guards were fighting, but they seemed to be getting along.

"Octavius is following him, sir!" a soldier pointed ahead. Then he killed the guard he was fighting, and he jumped on his horse to follow his general. The other one did the same too.

Marcus was soon excited to realise that Octavius was running after Macrinus on foot. He was very close. Marcus called out to the soldiers behind him.

"Block his way!”

They did as he said and rode their horses around either side of Macrinus, to block him from going any further. He realised this and started running backwards. Marcus seized the chance and leaped off his horse to capture him. They ended up rolling on the ground together. Macrinus tried to fight back, but he was so tired that he gave up and collapsed, taking a few punches to the face from Marcus in the process.

The others walked towards their General. All of them stared down at the panting, treacherous, sixty-year-old dark-skinned man. Marcus drew his sword, Macrinus cursed, crawled back. But Marcus did something that even surprised himself. He thrust his sword into the ground right next to Macrinus.

Octavius touched his shoulder, "Sir." There were a lot of questions in his tone.

‘We're heading to the Roman Forum. Bring him along."

The soldiers looked at each other, confused.

"But sir..." Octavius protested.

"This cunt must be punished by the emperor Geta himself."

Macrinus gave a hysterical laugh, but it was clear he was upset with that decision.

"You don't deserve a painless death," he said, looking at him. "I'm sure the emperor has far more creative ideas for you."

—-

The atmosphere in the Curia Julia was palpably tense, with everyone visibly anxious and on the brink of exhaustion. The noise was unbearable and it was giving you a headache. But Geta was determined. He had no intention of sending anyone home yet. This will be solved today, he said. He made you sit in the imperial seat that belonged to Caracalla, since you were exhausted, you didn't object, despite Julia's glare. Furthermore, it was clear that the Consuls had other matters to discuss, and did not care the fact that you were sitting there. Fortunately the murmuring of the crowd was soon heard outside, and everyone turned their heads in the direction of the footsteps approaching the hall.

Your heart pounded with both excitement and nervousness. You felt immense relief when you saw Marcus a short while later. Geta leapt to his feet and looked at him, his eyes wide open. Since you focused on Marcus' face and only later realised who he had brought to the middle of the great hall. When Macrinus fell to his knees on the floor, the consuls first looked at him in astonishment and then started shouting.

"Traitor!"

"He should be beheaded!"

"Throw him from Tarpeian Rock!"

Geta raised his hand and they all fell silent. You and Marcus looked at each other from a distance, wondering why he hadn't killed him. However, he was in a good mood and you were grateful to finally see his sincere smile.

"General Acacius." Geta called him. "On behalf of the Roman people, I am grateful to you for capturing this traitor and bringing him before me, before the Council. He will be judged here, before Roman law, and his final sentence will be given. The council is now in session."

"Your Majesty," someone stated. "I am afraid a council session is not yet feasible in these circumstances. Since your crown is absent and the attire you are wearing is not fit for this occasion. Furthermore, I must point out that it is inappropriate for two women to be present at this time. I demand that the necessary conditions be imposed."

And they all murmured, some agreeing and some objecting.

"Denied!" Geta said firmly. The man frowned and sat down. "

Even without my crown, my true identity remains unchanged. Also, the women you are referring to are my mother, your empress, and my sister, your Princess, Aurelia."

Marcus looked at him with a confident half-smile. You could see the pride in his look.

Geta continued. "If there are no other ridiculous objections I will continue. You have all been waiting here all morning, so I will formalise things for the sake of Rome before I tire you out any further."

He silenced the murmurs and continued. His speech took everyone by surprise, including you. At the end of the session, the verdict was reached: Caracalla was declared a tyrant, and all his decrees, orders, wills, and other belongings were declared null and void. Macrinus tried to object several times, but no one dared to stand up for him or support him. Now it was his turn to be punished.

"He was really into training these gladiators and investing in them. Then I'd like to give him a fitting punishment." Geta said with a grin. Then he turned to him. "You will be thrown into the Colosseum, along with the rest of your followers. Your fate will be decided by the gods and the people of Rome." He looked at the guards. "Now get him out of my sight, I don't want to see his ugly face anymore."

Ignoring the pleas of the councilors who had helped Macrinus, Geta closed the session and everyone began to murmur once more. He came over to you, a big grin on his face.

"I can't wait to see that wretched Macrinus in the Colosseum tomorrow!"

You smiled in response. "You did well, brother."

He smiled widely. Marcus approached you both. Geta looked at him.

"Acacius, I'm surprised you didn't kill him, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad. It'll be fun tomorrow!" He said, clapping his hands. He winked at you and then went over to his mother.

You looked at Marcus. "I think it's finally over now. We can rest easy, can't we?"

"Yes, my lady," he said, holding your hand. "It's over now.”

You just stared at each other for a while, speaking through your eyes. The councilors left the hall, murmuring, while Geta and his mother had a brief argument. All of this faded into the background for you.

"Looks like we'll be spending another night on Palatine Hill."

Marcus smirked. "One last night. Then tomorrow we'll be heading back to the villa, our home."

You smiled. "Thank the Gods. I miss our home so much."

"I know, me too. Shall we leave now? I need a good bath, and as my wife, you can help me, can't you?" He smirked.

You lifted your head to whisper in his ear. "Anything you wish, my love.”

—-

You arrived at Domus Severiana in the late afternoon. As soon as you stepped into the courtyard, you ordered the slaves to prepare the balneum for you two.

The stone walls of the balneum were softly caressed by the soothing steam of the hot water, while a variety of flowers floated on the surface, their sweet scent creating a tranquil atmosphere in this spacious bath house.  Marcus was in the water, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. You were right behind him, running your slender fingers over his flesh, rubbing his arms and shoulders, helping him to recover from the fatigue of the day.

"Your healing touch has refreshed my body and soul," he murmured. Then he took your hand and brought it to his lips, his collarbone, his chest, running it all over his body. Then he turned towards you, his movement causing some of the water to spill over. You swallowed as his eyes traveled over your naked body, your heart racing with excitement. He reached out for you, grabbed you around the waist, and pulled you into the water. "Now it's my turn to touch you.”

This time the water overflowed, and a lot of the flowers on the surface ended up floating away.

You giggled as Marcus ran his lips along your neck to your collarbone. "You meant to touch me with your lips? But I am in the water, so how are you going to touch the rest of my body I wonder?" You asked playfully.

"I sense a challenge." He murmured, his warm breath brushing against your collarbone. "I shall accept." He then grabbed your hips and lifted you, placing you on his shoulders. His head was between your thighs, your heels touched his back. You moaned with pleasure and laughed as his lips touched your folds. Your back arched instinctively as you felt his tongue in your most sensitive place. You gripped his grey hair tightly with your fingers.

"Marcus! I am going to- ow!"

"Isn't it too soon, my love?"

You looked down at his face and saw that he was grinning.

"No, I meant to say that I'm going to fall, not come.”

He pulled his head back, supported your back with one hand and lowered you down onto the edge of the tub. "I've been a bit busy, I must have misheard." He grinned again. Without getting out of the water, he pulled you closer and continued where he left off. He stuck his marvellous tongue out and licked your most sensitive spot. You gasped and hitched your legs around his head, drawing him closer. He rolled his tongue up and down as he used his hand to probe at your lower lips. His beard tickled you as your breathing quickened. Adrenaline flooded your body as your pulled on his hair, bringing him closer, as he sucked and consumed you mercilessly. You bucked into him and he responded in turn with a little nip. You threw your head back as you gasped once more, feeling like you were losing your mind. Shaking, sweating, your entire body pulsed with pleasure as you clamped your legs around him.

You moaned loudly. "I am definitely coming this time!"

"Come for me, my love. Let me taste you.”

And immediately after his command, you came with a loud moan. Marcus kissed your belly and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you into the water. He kissed you on the lips with great passion, you wrapped your arms around him. The water made everything a little slippery, but Marcus was determined to grip your hips roughly, puling you closer. You wrapped your legs firmly against his waist, feeling his need press against you in the most delicious way. You couldn't stop your moans with each and every thrust and neither could he, and you began to feel him deeply inside you, he thrust deeper and deeper, pushing you both closer and closer to the edge. He grabbed your hair, gathering behind the nape of your neck and pulling your face closer, claiming your mouth with his teeth and imploring tongue. And you came for him once more, moaning into his mouth. He then reached his climax right after with a groan.

Breathing heavily, you slumped in the tub, he was holding you close, kissing your chin then beneath your ear. You listened to the peaceful sound of water echoing off the damp walls until your breathing calmed. Without pulling out, he wrapped his arms around you and you rested your head on his shoulder. Once your both breathing and racing hearts had calmed, he stood up and led you out of the tub too.

—-

On the following day, the capital of Rome was on the brink of witnessing one of the most momentous days in its history. The Council's decision, Geta's proclaiming absolute emperorship to the entire populace, was followed by the announcement of the execution of the traitor Macrinus and his supporters in the Colosseum.  As the sun reached its zenith, people were making their way towards the colossal structure, engaged in quiet conversation.

The emperor's carriage soon arrived near the Colosseum, where the people greeted Geta with great enthusiasm. You and Marcus were in the other carriage, which you got out of together and waved to the people who were cheering your name. The trumpets were blown, and as you walked towards the Imperial tribune, the announcer called out Geta's name. Everyone stood up and cheered him enthusiastically.

“Caesar! Caesar! Caesar! Caesar!”

Geta raised his hands and gave them the salute, then turned to you and held out his hand. And then they announced your name. You took Geta's hand and stood next to him.

"Princess Aurelia!"

The crowd clapped and cheered even more enthusiastically. You placed your right hand on your chest and saluted the crowd. It was then time for Marcus's name to be announced.

“General Marcus Justus Acacius!”

The crowd roared his name over and over.

“Acacius! Acacius! Acacius! Acacius!”

Marcus gave them a smile and a salute in return. Caracalla's seat has been removed and two seats have been added on either side of the emperor, as per his orders. At Geta's gesture, you took the seat next to him, and Marcus sat next to you.

And the trumpets sounded again. The announcer cut them off and carried on:

"For his treachery against the life of the Emperor and the Roman Empire, Marcus Opellius Macrinus is declared an enemy of the people. He has been stripped of his membership of the Senate and all those who aided and abetted him will bring to the arena in chains today, to face judgement, your judgement, people of Rome!"

When the iron gate sprung open, Macrinus and his supporters were brought into the middle of the arena in chains. The crowd booed them.

"Traitor! Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!"

The Announcer called the crowd to silence, listed his crimes one by one, which Macrinus replied with a smug smile.

Crowded roared. “Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!”

Geta stood up and went over to the balustrade. But then he glanced back at you and beckoned you over. You looked at Marcus and stood up, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with you. He didn’t resist and followed you.

"What do you think, sister? Mercy?"

All three of you were looking at Macrinus. Julia, who was watching you from behind, seemed angry with Geta for not calling her mother to his side. She crossed her arms and made a face.

Looking at Macrinus from a distance, you shook your head. "No mercy." You said firmly.

Geta smiled and looked at Marcus. "Acacius?"

"Having mercy on the traitor is a betrayal to the innocent!" Said Marcus without taking his eyes off Macrinus. You smiled and held his hand, he was so right.

Geta put his arms up. "The gods have spoken!" And then he lowered both hands down. The executioner nodded and separated Macrinus's head from his body in a single stroke.

The crowd cheered. It was the first time you'd ever felt so relieved that a man was dead. Marcus let out a deep sigh, feeling the same way. When it was the turn of the other traitors, they shared Macrinus' fate too. Marcus leaned towards Geta. "Speak to your people, Your Majesty, show that you are a true emperor. They need it."

Geta looked at him, then nodded. He took a deep breath.

"The people of Rome! I promise you that from now on I will restore Rome to its rightful glory! During my reign, there will no longer be any Romans who are hungry or poor. I pledge that no Roman rights will be infringed upon, and that all will enjoy equal conditions. I promise you, as your emperor, that I will strive to make Rome the greatest empire in the world!"

You and Marcus looked at each other as the crowd continued to cheer and applaud, their enthusiasm growing. This was precisely what you had hoped to hear. It seemed that the people were also pleased. You admired Geta's personal development and believed with all your heart that he would do what he promised.

Now it was time. It was time for you and your husband to return to your home in peace.

——

Chapter 16: Seperation and Triumph

"Amor vincit omnia."

Love conquers all.

 

“Domina!”

They called out to you cheerfully as you got out of the carriage and ran towards Norell and Decima. They were running towards you too. You embraced them with tears in your eyes and walked into the courtyard together. Marcus noticed Octavius, who was waiting at the entrance with a smile on his face. He was the one who took care of everything until your arrival. Marcus tapped his friend on the shoulder and invited him inside. You saw Tullia in the courtyard, gave her a hug too. Even though she was a bit hesitant due to respect as was her custom, she hugged you back.

Everyone was delighted to be home. That evening, you suggested having dinner together in the courtyard, with everyone else included. This was definitely the first time anyone had seen an evening like this in the villa. It was certainly not a common occurrence in other villas or houses in Rome. However, the slaves were still shy, understandably so, given the unusual situation. If they told anyone on the street, it is likely that no one would believe them. Nevertheless, it was true. You saw them as family, not just as slaves, and they had a lot of respect and admiration for you.

On that particular evening, you managed to surprise Marcus once more. He was continually amazed at your capacity for compassion, and mercy. Throughout the meal, he was unable to take his eyes off you. He thought you were so stunning that it felt as if you could only be a dream yet you were there, by his side. You were a blessing to him, not just a person, a miracle that he woke up to every morning.

After dinner, you checked out the renovated and refurbished parts of the villa together. The courtyard was bigger and there was a private resting area right next to the fountain. It also seemed like a great spot for when you have guests over too. You headed back to your chambers as it was getting dark. You were really pleased with the new look of your room. Marcus's armour and other dangerous items were taken to the next room. A small mattress and a closet were added. This wasn't the only change. The bed was wider and more comfortable, with drapes and a canopy. The tulle around the bed was tied with ribbons and had floral ornaments. It was clear that it had been prepared carefully. The rest of the room was pretty much the same, with the desk, small dining table, and clothes section. As your belly was getting bigger every day, your old tunics were a bit tight, especially at the waist. While Marcus took off his red shawl, you checked the measurements of all your tunics. It was clear that you wouldn't fit into any of them soon.

Marcus took off his belt and looked you over from head to toe. "If you're not sure what to wear, I can give you some advice."

You smiled without looking at him. “I already know what you're going to say."

“Are you reading my mind?” He asked. "Well..." He was moving slowly towards you. “What is on my mind at the moment, princess?” He wrapped his arms around you. It was pretty obvious what he was thinking, given that you could feel him right behind your hips. You turned your head and touched his nose with yours.

“I think, you want me?”

“That's so true.” His thick fingers ran through your hair and inhaled your scent. “So, where do I want you? Any guesses?”

"Hmm, on our new bed?"

He turned you around and put his hands on your hips, making you gasp. “And right beneath me.” He said, breathing heavily.

You threw your arms around his neck and looked into his eyes, your heart racing with excitement. "Should I tell you where I want you, too?"

He smirked, leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose. "Tell me, my love." Another kiss on the corner of your lips. "Where do you want me?" One more kiss on your neck. "Say it." and another kiss, this time on the collarbone, sending shivers of delight down your spine with each warm kiss.

You pulled his head closer and whispered in his ear with a seductive smile on your lips. "I want you deep inside me."

And before you knew it, you were in his arms, gasping as the ground gave way beneath your feet.

"Whatever my princess wants." He said as he carried you to the bed. You crawled across the middle of the bed. "At your service, my lady." He grinned and you swayed a little with the jolt of his weight as he crawled onto the bed towards you.

"I realise the bed is bigger now, was that necessary?" You asked, your voice filled with playful teasing.

Marcus gripped the hem of your tunic as you ran your hand along the silk sheet, his eyes sparkling with desire.

"You didn't like it? I thought we might be able to move on the wide bed more easily." He said, helping you out of the tunic and taking you by the waist. He pulled you in closer and together you rolled to the other side of the bed, with you now on top of him. "Like this, for instance. Or..." He grabbed you again and this time you rolled to the other end of the bed. This time he was on top of you. "Like this."

You giggled. "I think I understand your point." You reached out your arms to remove his tunic, and once he was free of it, he grasped your legs and drew you closer to him. His gaze shifted from humorous to predatory as he gazed at your exposed body. You felt like his prey, and your heart beat faster as his eager hands slid slowly from your ankles to your legs and then to your thighs. Marcus pressed his lips hungrily against yours and tension hummed between the two of you as your lips touched. 

Tasting the wine he'd just drunk and rolled your tongue around his. You were holding back a little from drinking wine since you were carrying a child, but you realised that you missed the taste. Your enthusiastic movements in his mouth had only served to heighten his arousal. He was filled with excitement and pleasure, an interesting mix that would lead to him taking you roughly. He rubbed his need against your pearl, you were slick as he teased your entrance with the smooth wide tip of his length. He kissed you as he pushed himself inside you. The two of you moaned into the kiss, you were mewling as his length hit your inner back wall. Backing off the kiss to let you catch your breath, he then began to pull out and thrust back into you. Your tight wet warmth surrounded him as he thrust and pulled inside you. He held your hands in his own, pinning you to the bed as he kept thrusting his hips back and forth, slowly picking up speed. Rolling his hips in that way he knew you loved, the two of you started panting and moaning louder.

"Marcus," you said breathlessly. "Deeper, please."

"As you wish, my love." He hummed.

You gasped as you felt him lift your legs up to get a more direct angle into you. His hips picked up speed, driving into you harder. Your legs dangled in the air as he pounded into you, and you moaned loudly. He set one of your legs back down, straightening up his back as he lifted the other one over his shoulder. Your hips began bucking in time with his own. You looked at him, staring into his dark brown eyes as felt some kind of raw wave of pleasure course through your body. Setting your leg back down, he resumed his earlier stance over you, his one arm grabbed you around the waist. You knew from that move that he was close, so you were. His mouth found yours once more. You moaned into his mouth, lost in the mess of love and pleasure you two shared.

"What do you want me to do now, my love?" He asked huskily. He could feel himself beginning to tighten up as his body built up to release.

"Fill me in…” You panted. “With your love,” your breath hit against his collarbone which spurred his on, making him thrust harder and harder into you. Your legs wrapped around his hips, your arms following suit around his back to pull him closer. His chest pressing against your breasts, he gave several more hard thrusts before finally stopping. You both hit your climaxes at once, he was filling you with his seed, and you could feel it all build up within you as you rode your own pleasure out. He kissed your breasts as he felt your rapid heart racing against your ribcage.

After a few minutes, your breath began to settle. Marcus leaned in and kissed you. One of your hands moved up to behind his head, while the other ran his back up and down. When he pulled out of you and broke the kiss, you let out another moan. He looked down and smiled to see some of his seed trickling out of you. You rolled over, and he rested his head on the pillow while you curled into him to listen to his heartbeat slow down. You ran your fingers over his bare chest while you were at it. You lay there for what seemed like an eternity, lost in your bliss. His scent on your skin, the taste of him in your mouth and his warm seed still floating in the very center of your womanhood, all of it show that you were conquered by him. You smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of belonging to him in every part of your body. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, then drew the silk sheets up, covering you both. Your eyelids were already closing as you rested your head on his chest, feeling safe and loved. The last thing you felt before drifting off to sleep was his lips moving slowly over your head.

—-

The sun came up over the horizon in a beautiful, graceful arc, bathing the sky in a kaleidoscope of colours as the day began. The villa was illuminated by the sun's rays, which brought about a striking contrast to the previous days' gloom. The villa had been quite deserted, ruined and abandoned in the past few days. However, as of this morning, it was evident that it was waking up to better days than its former ones, as sounds began to spread out of its courtyard. The sense of comfort and peace at leaving those difficult days behind was starting to spread throughout this large house.

The same tranquil atmosphere was also present in your bedroom. The mornings you woke up in the villa were quite noisy but peaceful and full of life, unlike the ones at Domus Severiana, which were boring, quiet and full of intrigue. You smile as you listen to all those sounds you've missed. The cheerful rooster, the birds singing outside the window, the light footsteps coming from the courtyard, indicating the slaves were getting started with their day, and of course, the breathing of the man you loved lying next to you. You wanted to enjoy these morning sounds for a while longer, but as soon as you felt Marcus's warm lips on your sternum, you opened your eyes.

Looking down, you noticed his grey curly hair, and reach out to run your fingers through it. He looked up at you with a mischievous expression on his face.

"Morning," you said, yawning.

"Morning indeed. Since my sun rose from her sleep now." He kissed your chin and made you giggle. Your heartbeat quickened as his lips traveled down from your chin to your neck and down to your collarbone. You slid your fingers from his hair to the nape of his neck. He propped himself up on his elbow on the bed and slowly slid the back of his hand from between your breasts to your navel, pulling down the sheet covering your body to expose your entire body. His hasty lips met yours and he ran a hand over your knees, slipping his fingers between them as you immediately spread your legs for him. It was your body's classic response to his magic touch. A little hastily he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer. Positioning himself between your legs and fondling your entrance with his thick fingers, you bit your lower lip in pleasure.

"Hmm, so ready for me," he grinned then he slid his length deep inside you, making you moan loudly. You watched him as he licked your wetness off his thumb, then his lips, relishing every second of the taste. He then leaned towards you and met your mouth again. The gentle breeze from the window blew the tulle around the bed towards you, but you were too caught up in the moment to pay attention to it. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck as he made glorious thrusts into your most sensitive spot, taking you to the heights of raw pleasure.

He pulled his hips back and grabbed yours just as he was coming out of you, adjusted himself, and thrust again, this time going deeper inside you. This sends waves of pleasure through your body with each movement. You were on the brink, teetering dangerously close to the edge. Your fingers scratching around his neck was driving him wild. Suddenly he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you roughly to him and sat on his heels on the bed. As you wrapped your legs around his waist, a wave of mind-blowing pleasure swept over your whole body. You felt like you were seeing your surroundings in a yellowish filter, and you were sure it wasn't the sunlight filtering into the room. As you let out a loud moan, he buried his head in your collarbone and let out a roar against your neck, sucking and nibbling at your flesh as you felt him bless you with his hot liquid. You both stayed like that for a while with your eyes closed, panting. As your breathing settled down, you could hear the sounds from outside again which brought you back to reality. He put his forehead against yours, you opened your eyes, you giggled at each other and then he laid you back down.  He slowly came out of you, and you made a sound like mewling. He smirked and kissed your cheek. You watched as he picked up his white tunic from the floor and put it on, waiting for your breathing to return to normal. He got out of bed and walked to the door, ordering the slaves to bring breakfast for you. Then he approached you and pulled the sheet over your body.

"Get some rest until breakfast arrives, my love," he smiled, turned, and walked over to his desk.

You sat up in bed to see what he was doing. He sat down and took some papers from the drawer.

"I suppose the General of Rome doesn't get much rest."

He replied with a smile as he picked up his quill and dipped it into the ink. "I need to let my legates and the legion in the south know what's been going on recently."

"I see. Then you will go to the Field of Mars to send the message, won't you?" You asked.

"Yes, my lady. I will." He replied as he wrote it.

You got out of bed and went to the wardrobe to get some clean clothes. He gave you a quick glance as you wore your cream tunic. Then you slowly approached Marcus. You sat down in the chair opposite his desk and picked up the seal of Legion III with the Pegasus symbol on it. He looked at you and sighed.

"But it's so hard," he murmured. You looked at him, not understanding what he meant. "I can't concentrate with you sitting across from me, looking so beautiful.”

Your cheeks flushed and put your hand over your face. "Should I cover my face like this then?"

He smiled, "Give me a minute," he said before writing the last line and rolling the paper. Then he took your hand, and placed a kiss on it. "Do you want to seal it?"

"Can I really do it?"

"Of course you can, my love." Without letting go of your hand, he made you walk around the table and sat you on his lap. He broke a small piece of sealing wax that he placed in a spoon put above the flame of the oil lamp. While he waited for it to melt, he looked at you, locking his eyes on yours. But he didn't seem to notice that his hand had slipped touching the flame.

"Marcus, you're going to burn your hand," you said anxiously, grabbing his hand. But he was still looking at you, with those brown eyes. "I'm already burning," he said in a deep voice. "And your hair is my fire," His fingers ran through your hair. "Your love is driving me mad. I can't take my eyes off you."

You smiled and kissed him softly on the lips. He kissed you back passionately. He then poured the melting wax on the place where he had closed the letter, took your hand that was holding the seal and guided you to press the seal.

“Why Pegasus?” You asked.

He turned your hand so that you were both looking at the seal now. “It's because, he is primarily associated with bravery, success in battle, protection, duty, and commitment. He was also born from Medusa's blood.” He explained and kissed your palm, then your wrist, your arm, and your shoulder, which made you laugh. And then he kissed your lips, but the kiss was interrupted by a knock at the door.

That was Norell. She'd brought your breakfast to the room with a smile. You smiled back and had a quick chat then she left the room. After breakfast, you helped Marcus get dressed. As he did yesterday, he was going to wear his white tunic today. You placed the red shawl over his shoulders and fastened it with a big brooch pin at the collar. Then you left the room together and went downstairs. You saw Octavius and Decima chatting at the entrance to the courtyard. He wasn't wearing his armour today either. They both noticed you and nodded. Then he went to the stables to get the horses.

"Is Cato still in the Field of Mars?" you asked Marcus, as you both looked after Octavius.

Yes, he's with the other wounded soldiers. I've given them all the day off today. I might be back early this evening since there won't be any training."

"Are they going to be alright?"

"Hope so. We've got five medici there. I'm not sure if they're as good as you, though." He gave a little smile.

"I can come and check them if you need me."

His expression suddenly changed. "You want me to take you among hundreds of men? Not a chance." His voice was firm.

You rolled your eyes. He took your hand, and his expression softened as he looked into your eyes. "You're my medicus, so you can only heal me."

"But that seems a little selfish, General."

"I'm a bit selfish when it comes to you," he said with a little smile.

You gave him a smile in return.

Then you heard a horse neigh, and you both looked in that direction. Marcus's face lit up when Octavius brought Dromos over to him. Marcus stepped towards him and Dromos reared up and let out a loud whinny.

"I missed you too, old friend," said Marcus, stroking his face. Then he got on his horse, grabbed the reins, looking at you. "My lady, I'm leaving now."

"Come back safe." You said, waving your hand.

He nodded with a smile and gave Dromos a nudge forward. Octavius mounted his horse too, and nodded to you before riding after him. As they rode away, their long red shawls fluttered gently in the wind, mixed with the dust from the roadway.

—-

That afternoon, when you were sitting in the courtyard with Decima and Norell, you talked about all the things that had transpired. You also talked about what Caracalla did, how Flavius came close to killing you, and how Macrinus almost caused disaster in Rome. They also told you about the days they spent as were detained and imprisoned. You felt a little down as you talked about those unfortunate days.

"Fortunately, your child is really strong," Decima said, putting her hand on your belly. You put your hand on hers and smiled at her.

"He's as strong as his father," Norell said, smiling.

You exhaled. "Oh, how I've missed talking to you, girls! I've really missed sitting together like this with you."

"We've missed you too," Decima said.

"We have been hoping and praying for your wellbeing and that of the child, as well as the general’s."

“Domina!”

You looked at the slave who was calling out to you and smiled. "I even missed you calling me out in this way," you said, laughing. The girls joined in with your laughter. But when you saw the slave's smile fade, yours did too.

"Is something wrong?"

"A carriage just arrived."

You raised your eyebrows. "Or is it my brother?"

The slave shook his head as no. You frowned and stood up.

And then two women you had never seen before entered the courtyard, one of whom appeared to be quite elderly, while the other seemed to be of a similar age to you. You could tell from their clothes that they weren't just ordinary people. Before you even had a chance to ask anything, they both looked at you with surprise and then the older woman came over to you with her arms outstretched and gave you a hug. Then the other woman gave you a hug too. Decima Norell and the other slaves in the courtyard were looking at you with curious eyes.

The older woman stepped back and looked you in the face. She was crying and sobbing, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Aurelia Marciana! You have grown into a beautiful young lady! I am so pleased to see you are alive! My sweet and lovely niece!" She touched your hair gently, her eyes brimming with tears.

You were taken aback. "You referred to me as your niece?" 

She nodded. "I am Antonia Marciana, your mother Paccia Marciana's sister."

"You... are... my aunt?" Your voice cracked. You didn't even know you had a relative on your mother's side – it was a complete surprise.

"I am, my dear. This is my daughter Paulina here, your cousin," the woman next to her took your hand and you smiled at her. "As soon as we heard that you were alive, we set off for Rome, but unfortunately, we learned that our relatives including your father's, had been killed by your half-brother, so we decided to head back. Fortunately, that tyrant is dead so we were able to come here to meet you."

You wiped away your tears and invited them to have a seat. "I imagine you've had quite a journey. I'll get them to prepare you some food." You said, and looked at Decima and Norell who nodded and made their way to the kitchen.

"It was a long journey indeed. My feet are a bit worn out from carrying my old body," Antonia said as she sat down on the lectus with her daughter's help. "You really look just like her, your mother. My poor sister left us before she had enough of you. She loved you so much. You were everything to her."

As she talked about your mother, you started to cry again, your heart ached.

“Even it was not enough, we thought we had lost you. All of your relatives, myself included, grieved for many years thanks to your father. But thank the Gods you are alive now. Is it true you've been in Egypt all this time?" She held out her hand to you, beckoning you to come over.

You sat down next to her and cleared your throat before answering. "Yes, I lived there without even knowing who I was."

"Septimus, that cruel man. I'll never forgive him for sending you away like that. I think it was all down to his new wife and his spoilt sons. After your mother passed away, I wanted to take you with me to Leptis Magna, but your father wouldn't let me." She took your hand in hers.  "But somehow you ended up back in Rome. I'm relieved that those brothers of yours didn't do anything to you. We were surprised to learn that you were here and not in the palace, and we were even more surprised and worried when we heard that you were wed. We would have loved to make it to the wedding, but it seems it all rather quickly." She said as if she was asking you.

You gave a little smile. "It all happened pretty quickly yes, but it's great that you're here now. I'm really pleased to meet you."

They smiled back in return. The slaves brought the food to the table and left. Your aunt leaned in, and held your hand.

"Aurelia, dear, I was a bit concerned when I heard you'd wed a soldier, a Roman General." She spoke in a low voice, almost as if she were whispering. “Or did those evil twins force you to wed him? What was his name again?"

"General Acacius," you said at once. "But no, not them. I wanted to wed the general of my own free will.”

Your aunt pursed her lips. "I mean, you're a princess after all. Besides, I heard that he's a bit old for you."

"Mother, please," Paulina said with a little whine.

She ignored her. "Is he kind to you? I'd love to know if he's a good husband. Does he fulfill all your needs?"

Your cheeks flushed. "Um, yes, aunt Antonia. He's a kind person and a great husband. I am beyond happy with him. Besides, age is just a number, isn't it?"

"Oh, your eyes just light up when you talk about him. Right, Paulina?"

"Indeed mother. I get the impression that she is very much in love with her husband." She said with a warm smile.

You smiled back, blushing again.

"I'm so delighted to see you happy, my dear." She said sincerely. "Now, I'm relieved."

While you were answering their questions about your marriage, they ate their meal. You were somewhat taken aback at how swiftly you became accustomed to them, but it was truly a pleasure getting to know someone who was your relative, particularly your mother's sister. Apparently, they'd returned to Rome after living in Leptis Magna for many years, and they mentioned that Paulina's husband was planning to stand for election as a member of the senate in the new reign, which would mean that you would see them more often. 

——

Three months later…

The last few months have been pretty busy for everyone. Geta's decision to raise the pay of the legions has led to a significant increase in the number of people applying to join. Marcus was shuttled from the Field of Mars to the barracks. All in all, when he returned in the evening, he was tired, but he still couldn't resist burying himself between your thighs and breasts. Your belly bump is certainly bigger, since the due date is just around the corner in two or three months. Your appetite had recently increased, and Marcus was certain it was because the child you were carrying was going to be strong. Your aunt and cousin Paulina were now living in the villa since her husband had become a member of the Senate. You and Marcus went to visit them once, and they got on well. But now it is difficult and tiring for you to travel so much. Marcus didn't want you to go anywhere unless you had to. Everyone at the villa was more attentive to you than ever before, trying their best to fulfill your every wish. Once a week, a midwife, selected with great care by your aunt, would come to check on you. She said that you were doing well, that the child was healthy, and that everything appeared to be fine.

Towards the end of that month, however, circumstances forced the first prolonged separation from Marcus. The army that Macrinus had secretly deployed and left behind in the vicinity of Syria had overstepped its bounds when it received the latest news and decided to cooperate with the Sasanian dynasty in attacking Roman troops in the south. When the southern legions reported this to Marcus, he thought it best to go there and repel them. With the approval of the Senate and Geta, the date of departure was set.

That evening, it seemed like sadness had taken over the villa. After dinner with Marcus, he helped you sit on the edge of the bed. The baby started kicking, as it always did after dinner. He was kneeling beside you, trying to feel the baby's kicks with his hand above your belly.

"He's a fighter," he murmured with a smile. "Don't give your mother any difficulty while I'm away, would you?" He rubbed your belly.

"What if you don't make it to the birth?" you asked, pursing your lips.

He looked up at you and kissed you on the belly before sitting down next to you. He took your hands in his.

"It's still two months away. I think I'll be back by then. Even if I don't, I'm certain you'll manage, my love."

"Could you perhaps consider not going? I believe there may be someone else who could serve as general and potentially prevail against them. Am I mistaken?"

He touched your cheek. "There is no qualified commander who knows this region as thoroughly as I do yet there is no time to choose someone to do anyway. It has to be me, my love. The soldiers in my legion in the south are like brothers to me. How can I sit here while they are out there fighting with everything they have?”

You bowed your head and couldn't stop your tears, which dripped down your cheek and into his hand. He wiped your tears away with his thumbs and gave you a kiss on the temple. "I promise you, my princess, I will be back to you safe and sound. Besides, they say, separation makes love grow and strengthen."

You felt your heartache as you looked at his face. "My heart is always longing for you, even if you're just a short distance away."

He smiled. "No matter how far I go, I'm always with you, do not forget that."

You placed his hand on your chest. "My only consolation will be the dream of you touching me again. So touch me in such a way that it would be the only thing that will keep me strong in your absence.”

Without a moment's hesitation, he pressed his lips to yours, and a complex emotion, a blend of passion and sadness, swept over your entire body. You tilted your head back ever so slightly to catch your breath, and his lips traced a path to your neck while your fingers ran possessively through his grey curls. Your heart was racing as he quickly undressed you and then himself. Still sitting on the end of the bed, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you onto his lap. Given the size of your belly, this position seemed more appropriate.  He kissed your breasts, and you bent your knees and sat on his lap with his hands on your hips. He kissed you again and entered you needily, which made you both let out a moan of pleasure. You put your arms around his neck, your breasts brushing against his chest. He supported your back with one hand and started thrusting deeply into you, lifting you on his lap and thrusting again and again. Every touch, every kiss felt like it was the last time and full of love. Your hot breaths, loud moans, love, and sorrow filled the room, creating a memory worth remembering as your bodies merged perfectly.

——

The morning was overcast as if the sadness in you had turned into dark clouds and covered the whole sky. As you helped Marcus put on his armour, you tried to hold back your tears, to be strong, but you were about to fail. However, you didn't want him to remember you as sad, so you did your best to suppress your feelings and try to smile as much as possible. He kissed you one last time before leaving the room. There was so much in that kiss, passion, love, sorrow and a vow to return. Everyone in the villa seemed a bit down as they followed you outside. Marcus looked at you one last time before mounting his horse. He was wearing his long red shawl over his armour and his galea (helmet) in his hand. Instinctively you moved closer to him. He rubbed your belly, then took your hand and kissed it with his eyes closed. Then he opens his eyes and looks into yours.

"I promise you, my lady, I will return in triumph."

You nodded. "May the Gods watch over you and bring each soldier home safely. Rome victrix."

"Rome victrix." He repeated and then mounted his horse.

Your eyes filled with tears that you had been holding back. You watched them until they disappeared from sight with Octavius, and finally, all the feelings you had been suppressing started to come out. Decima embraced you as you sobbed. You stood there together for a while, and all the slaves gathered around to calm you down. The sky rumbled with thunder and soon it began to rain as if to accompany your crying.

——

One month later…

The days were tough, but you got through them somehow.  During that time, you sent Marcus lots of letters. But you had to keep them short since they were travelling by pigeon. You had mentioned the cool, rainy days in your letters. You had said the midwife was coming in once or twice a week and that the baby was doing well, that it was getting big enough to keep you awake at night.

In his last letter Marcus wrote that the army had managed to repel the initial assault, but the situation remained fluid and the prospect of conflict was now a distinct possibility. He did not write to you as frequently as you did, but you could imagine how busy he was, so you waited patiently. That evening you wrote him another letter, not knowing if it would reach him. It was the only way to stay strong, to hold on. It made you feel like you were talking to him.

“My husband, my love, my brave general, owner of my heart. Every minute, every hour, every day, every breath I take without you is like torture. My only consolation is our child growing inside me. The midwife says it's now less than a month before the birth, and our son must be looking forward to coming, but I try to calm him down by telling him to wait for his father. I hope you will return to us soon, my love. In your absence, things are different. I can't taste the food I eat or smell the flowers I smell the same way I used to. Everything feels incomplete without you. I miss you so much. I am praying that you will come back to me safely. Your Aurelia.”

The next day, after breakfast, you decided to go downstairs and visit Unio in the stables. You were looking forward to riding on her back again. You thought of Marcus as you stroked her silky pearl-white mane. You thought of him all the time anyway, and everything reminded you of him. You felt a bit down, and Unio nudged you with his nose and whinnied as if he wanted to cheer you up.

“Domina!”

You looked over at the voice calling you, and one of the slaves came running over. Decima was right behind him, looking worried.

“My lady, Emperor Geta.”

“Not again, please.”

Over the past few weeks, you've been feeling resentful towards your brother Geta, turning down all of his requests. Every week he sent you a letter to read and a carriage to take you to him, but you never wanted to meet up with him. You had a good reason for that, though. But today was different. You were surprised to see a lectica (palanquin) outside the door, which was usually used for short distances.

One of the guards approached you and nodded. "Princess, Emperor Geta is awaiting you. He said you would be more comfortable if we took you to him this way."

It was actually more comfortable than the carriage. There wasn't much risk of shaking, but the distance between Palatine Hill and the villa was quite a long way.

"But this way you'll be pretty tired," you said, looking at the slaves.

"They're used to carrying people who weigh more than you over longer distances," the guard explained.

"It's an honour to carry our princess," said one of them.

They all looked at you with a reassuring gaze.

"Emperor Geta has entrusted you to us, please let us carry you."

You agreed to put an end to this nonsense that happens every week.

Decima came to you, "I will accompany you."

"I can't let you walk all that way." You protested.

"Please, my lady. I cannot send you there alone."

"She's right, my lady. Let her come with you." Tullia approached you. "At least it will give me some relief."

You sighed. "Very well," you said and sat on the lectica with Decima's help. The slaves slowly lifted you up.

"Be careful with our princess!" Tullia gave them a firm warning. It was a strange feeling, being carried all that way on the shoulders of slaves. You couldn't help but feel a little uneasy, but they didn't seem to be having any difficulty.

Upon your arrival at Palatine Hill at noon, you were pleased to find the travel to be quite comfortable. The slaves were looking well and showed no signs of fatigue. They lowered you carefully and gave you a hand getting out. You thanked them and walked towards Domus Severiana, accompanied by Decima and the guards. You suddenly realised how much you'd missed the place. After all, you and Marcus had many memories here too. You smiled to yourself, no matter where you went, it felt like his memories were right there with you, following you like a shadow. You first visit the tomb with Decima, to pay your respects to your father before heading to the great hall. Once you were back in the courtyard, you asked Decima to find out where Geta was. After all, he summoned you, but he wasn't there which you found a bit strange.

You turned your head when you heard footsteps approaching behind you, but it wasn't him.

"Gods! Who is this lovely lady?”

He was a young man who looked older than Geta, perhaps around your age, someone you had never seen before. He approached you with an unnecessary grin on his face. "May I know who you are beautiful lady?"

You frowned, turning your head away.

“Sister!”

You turned and saw that Geta was coming towards you from behind the other man.

"You are the famous Princess Aurelia? You're much prettier than they say."

Geta gave him a dirty look, "I find it pretty gross that you were so desperate that you would hit on a woman with a child." He chastised him. He reached out to embrace you, but your stomach was in the way. "Oh my, it's getting quite big!"

The man laughed. "Aah, apologize, my lady. I was distracted by your beauty and didn't notice your big belly.”

You rolled your eyes. "Why did you summon me?" You asked Geta.

"Come inside with me," he said, wrapping an arm around you, and narrowing his eyes at the other man.

He watched you two walk away, pursing his lips.

When you stepped into the great hall, Geta sat you down in a chair. He then sat opposite you.

"I'm sorry I summoned you here, but I didn't have a chance to leave the palace. Besides, you refused to come and you didn't write me back, what could I do? You left me helpless, I missed you so much."

He was going to hug you again, but you drew back. His eyes widened in surprise. "Or are you angry with me?”

You sighed, couldn't hold it in any longer. "Of course I'm angry with you! How could I not be? My husband went to war to fight for you, for Rome. He had to leave his wife behind. However, the Emperor of Rome chose to stay here in his palace instead of being with his army!" You suddenly began to cry, unable to stop sobbing.

Geta stood up and approached you, putting one hand on your shoulder.

"Forgive me, sister. I wanted to go with them, but you know the reason."

"What reason?”

He frowned. "Haven't you read the letters I sent you? How rude of you sister. You broke my heart." He approached the table and poured himself a glass of wine from the decanter. "That bastard you just saw at back the courtyard, my cousin, he arrived in Rome months ago. Apparently, my mother made him a promise when she saved the Senate from Macrinus. But his target isn't the Senate, it's something bigger."

Suddenly you felt guilty, he had obviously fallen on hard times as well.

"It'll never end, will it? Someone will always want to ascend the throne." You mumbled.

"Yes, I suppose so."

"You're not angry with me for shouting at you, are you?"

He smiled. "I deserve it," he said, taking a sip of his wine. "I'm glad you came, I really needed to see you. And..." he said, putting the glass on the table and coming closer to you, taking your hands and looking into your eyes. "As for the other reason that I called you..." He smirked. "I've got some news that will make you happy."

You raised your eyebrows. "What is it?”

"I have been informed two days ago that our ships carrying the army have set sail from Alexandria."

Suddenly your heart began to beat rapidly with excitement, your throat felt dry.

"It is thought that they should arrive in Ostia in a few days. General Acacius, your husband, is returning home in triumph."

"Thank the Gods! You don't know how happy you made me, brother!" You hugged him, eyes filled with tears.

"It's nice to see you smiling again." He murmured, rubbing your back.

You began to cry again, which has become something of a habit for you recently.

"Please stop crying. He's coming back. I promise I won't send him to war again.”

Suddenly you felt a spasm in your womb and you gasped.

"Sister! Are you alright? Gods forbid, but I hope you're not in labor, are you?"

"No, there's still time. It's just a little contraction," you said through clenched teeth.

"Are you certain?" He asked anxiously.

You nodded. "I want to return home now. I'd better not move a muscle until Acacius returns. I don't want to give birth while he's away."

"You're right. Thank you for coming," he kissed you on the cheek. "Just seeing you for a little while is enough for me.”

He helped you to your feet. You looked at him. "Make sure you keep your promises to our people, brother. You must be able to rule alone. Be strong and wise, like our father."

"I promise I will. Thank you, Aurelia, for believing in me more than my mother did. She only gives lectures and tells me not to trust anyone."

"You don't need anyone's wisdom. You're a Roman Emperor, remember that, stand tall."

He nodded and smiled. Suddenly, you felt the baby kick and smiled, then took Geta's hand and placed it over your belly. He laughed as he felt the kick.

"Oh, gods! Looks like my nephew is going to be a quiet fighter, just like his father. Is the midwife sure it's a boy?"

"Yes, she said she is certain." You said a little hesitantly.

"Then you are carrying little Acacius! Rome surely needs him!”

You smiled. "I hope he will be just like his father."

He smiled back and then walked you out, making jokes about your big belly on the way. Getting slaps on the back from you in return.

——

The day of return.

Three days had passed since your last meeting with Geta, and there was still no word from Marcus or the Roman army. You were concerned because he hadn't replied to your last letters, but you took some solace in what Geta had said. Cato, who was waiting in the harbor of Ostia, was sending you the latest news every evening with a soldier. But the news you were waiting for never came, and each passing day was becoming more and more unbearable. However, today, unlike other days, that soldier arrived while you were resting in the courtyard after breakfast. He came by early today because he had the news you were waiting for. The good news you'd been hoping for and praying for.

"I've got some good news for you, my lady. We have a sighting of our army's ships off the coast of Ostia!"

You smile and place your hand on your chest, just above your heart, which begins to beat faster.

"Praise the gods!" cried Tullia, raising her arms in the air.  Everyone in the villa smiled at each other and looked at you with a warm, relieved expression. You were just so overwhelmed that you didn't know what to say. Decima and Norell gave you a hug, sharing your happiness as you shed a few tears. You quickly told them to get the bath ready and prepare the food. Your heart was racing with excitement, and you could feel your whole body trembling. He was returning, your husband, your love, your happiness, your general, back to you.

—-

As the sun's rays filtered through the clouds and illuminated the blue waters of the sea, the ships of the Roman army coyly approached the harbour. Marcus exhaled deeply as his gaze traversed the outlines of the city skyline. He was grateful to be able to return to his city and homeland in triumph. Previously, upon returning home, his thoughts had been solely focused on relaxing at his villa and then heading to the barracks or the Field of Mars, the only place he would be occupied again. But now he had you in his life, he had something to come back for, something to give up all his duties for. A month without you felt like a year to him, he was tired and full of longing.

He reached for his armour and picked up the papers he'd tucked under it. All the letters you had written to him. As he brought them to his lips and kissed them, he couldn't help but smile. He was really looking forward to seeing you and having you in his arms again. Once the ship was approaching in the harbour, Octavius brought his red shawl and helped him put it on. They exchanged a proud smile and went down on deck together as the ship made its way to the dock. Marcus tapped all his soldiers on the shoulder as they all saluted him. They were all tired, proud and cheerful. The ship maneuvered to port on the port tack and came alongside with a slight bump, the waves crashing into the harbour causing the waves to splash the people waiting on the shore. The gangway was brought for the soldiers who were ready to get off the ship. The people on the shore cheered, and the soldiers on board saluted as Marcus stepped from the ship onto the shore. After him, other soldiers disembarked, and a festive atmosphere prevailed on the shore. Cato came running to them and saluted Marcus, who touched his shoulder in return.

"Aurelia? Tell me, is she alright?" He asked excitedly.

Cato smiled. "Yes, sir. Lady Aurelia and the others are all waiting for you."

Marcus let out a sigh of relief, but now feeling more excited, he turned to Octavius. "Are you coming with me?"

"Yes, sir." He replied with a shy smile.

—-

"My lady, why don't you take a seat?"

You ignored Tullia's concern, shaking your head as 'no'. “I'll wait here until he arrives," you said firmly.

You were all waiting outside the villa, just off the dirt road. You were feeling a little nervous and your heart was beating a little faster, making it a little difficult to catch your breath. You were getting tired, but you decided to wait there for a little longer. Everyone had their eyes locked on the end of the road, excitedly waiting for their Dominus to arrive. Decima came to you and took your hand and put one hand on your back, sharing your exhilaration.

And then, you heard some horses' hooves pounding on the ground, followed by a few loud neighs. You kept your eyes fixed on the road ahead, waiting impatiently. Your hands were shaking, your palms were sweating, and your heart was beating faster than ever. Decima gave you a rub on the shoulder. And Marcus came into view, urging his horse on to go faster, his voice bouncing off the road. You took a step forward and almost forgot about your big belly, wanting to run towards him. Marcus reared his horse, looking at you, and then jumped off and ran towards you. The slaves murmured to each other in joy. You gave Decima's hand a gentle push to walked towards him. She said something in concern, but you ignored her. All you could think about was Marcus who came over to you with a big smile on his face. He took your hands first, then looked at your belly in amazement and took you in his arms. He turned you around a few times in joy, making you giggle. Then he set you down and gave you a tight but careful hug, grabbing your neck pulling your head closer, burying his face in your hair, breathing you in.

"Thank the gods! You have returned to me, my love." Tears filled your eyes.

He looked into your eyes, and you could see his longing there, burning bright. "As I promised, I have returned to you, my lady, in triumph."

You embraced him tightly, running your fingers through his grey hair as the tears rolled down your cheeks. You inhaled his scent, kissed his neck, and let out a few sobs that echoed off the outer walls of the villa.

Marcus gently wiped away your tears with his fingers and placed his arm around you.

"Welcome home, general!" the slaves saluted him.

"Thank the gods you have returned safely," Tullia said cherfully.

"Thank you Tullia," Marcus said, then noticed Decima standing timidly. He turned around and looked at Octavius and made a sign to him. Then they embraced each other as you walked into the courtyard. You tilted your head to look at them, Marcus leaning down and kissing the top of your head, pulling you closer to him.

——

"My love, you've become even more beautiful since I last saw you," Marcus said, his fingers brushing through your hair.

You two were in the Balneum, you were seated on his lap in the water, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I'm not sure if I really look beautiful. I have some body flaws." You giggled, pointing to your belly.

You felt his lips beneath your earlobe. "I'm in love with every part of you that you think is a flaw. Besides, you're beautiful in every way. It's simply not possible otherwise." He put his hand on your belly, smiled when he felt a kick. "See? Our child agrees."

You smiled, then lifted your head to look at his face. "I've noticed that when you talk about him, you always say 'our child', not 'our son'. Do you think it's going to be a girl?"

"It doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl since it's our child, the fruit of our love." He kissed your temple.

"Wouldn't you prefer it to be a boy? From what I've seen, Roman men care more about that."

"Nonsense. If you ask me, I would prefer a girl with your hair, your eyes, your beauty." His lips brushed against your cheek.

"Really? The midwife says it's a boy. And in my experience as a medicus, I find that to be true.”

“Aurelia, please don't worry about that. I promise you, nothing else matters more than ensuring our child is born healthy.”

You looked at him admiringly and sighed. "I've missed you so much. Your voice, the way you always comforted me." You then frowned. "I'll speak to Geta and make sure he doesn't send you anywhere else. I was really worried about you. I was so close to having an early labor."

He laughed. ‘'I'm glad I returned in time. I was afraid that if I didn't make it."

Then he sighed deeply. "I missed you too. Without you, It's like nothing tastes the same, not even the food I eat or the wine I drink. It was as if even the sun wasn't as bright as it usually is. Even when I was fighting enemy soldiers, all I could think about was returning to you. I felt no other emotion and had no other purpose. You looked at him and he looked at you. No matter how far away we were, I felt you with me every time I closed my eyes. He pressed his palm on your chest, right above your heart. Maybe it's because our souls are bound together. Our hearts are tied together.”

Your eyes locked on his lips, he realized what you wanted, and he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was more restrained than ever, full of love, like a cry of longing. But your heavy breathing made him break the kiss.

"Are you alright, my love?"

You nodded, taking his hand on your thigh. "Marcus, please, I need you now more than ever."

He smirked. "It seems our bodies need to be as one as our souls."

He grabbed your hips and pulled you to him. With his need, already writhing to be inside you, he entered you impatiently.

Your belly prevented you from wrapping your arms around his neck, so you put your hands on his shoulders. "Gods!" you moaned in pleasure. You had missed feeling him inside you so much.

"Let me," He said and turned you around and pulled you back to him a little roughly, your back bumped against his chest. His hands, his arms, every part of his body was yearning to touch you, to possess you. He guided you to sit properly on his lap and entered you from behind. You found this position more comfortable. He gently gripped onto your hips and pushed you against his groin, splashes echoing off the damp walls of the balneum. His hands reached up to cup your breasts, kneading them possessively. With each thrust, each touch, you felt more and more breathless, and you were getting closer and closer to the edge. His lips were hot as they travelled along your neckline, soon to be replaced by his tongue and teeth. Your back arched and you pressed into his shoulder, giving him the opportunity to kiss you deeply.

"Marcus!" you gasped. You dug your fingers into his arms that were wrapped around you.

"I know my love, me too." He whispered in your ear and tightened his grip around you, thrusting as deep as he could. He picked up the pace at an incredible rate and you cried out his name over and over as you both reached your climaxes.

The intense pleasure you were experiencing suddenly gave way to pain. "Ow!" You groaned.

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling incredible pressure in your womb but still able to detect the remaining traces of pleasure.

"Aurelia?" He grabbed your hair with one hand to look at your face. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" His voice was full of concern.

You were in too much pain to speak. Or was it time? You suddenly felt afraid. "I'm not hurt. I'm just having contractions," you said through clenched teeth.

Marcus stood up and helped you to your feet. He poured a bucket of clean water over your shoulders and gave you a kiss on the head. "We should summon the midwife. Let me dry you off first."

You nodded and got out of the tub with his help.

——

The midwife came in a hurry, but by the time she arrived, you were no longer having contractions. She examined you anyway and said some things you didn't like.

"You're still some time away from labor, my lady," she said, and then she looked at Marcus. "Contractions are very normal at this stage, but it is wise not to trigger them too much as this can lead to an early birth. The earlier premature birth happens, the greater the health risks for your child."

You frowned, pursing your lips.

"I want you to move in here next week," Marcus said, looking at her. "Whatever you need will be provided. Inform the slaves of what you need for the birth, everything should be ready by now." He spoke in a firm tone as if giving orders to a soldier.

"As you wish sir. I will have everything ready. Please take care until then, my lady." She bowed her head and left the room.

"I think she's exaggerating a bit. I feel fine," you said, pursing your lips. Marcus sat down on the bed next to you and took your hand.

"Well, we'd better err on the side of caution anyway."

"Or will you not touch me again until the birth?"

He gave you a smile and stroked your cheek.

"You know I don't mean that."

He rolled his eyes. "Aurelia, you heard her too. She said it wouldn't be good for the child. We'll be patient. What's the big deal?"

You shrugged stubbornly, he laughed at your expression. Then he leaned in and whispered in your ear. "I promise you that after the birth, when you're ready, I'll make love to you until the morning. It will be so incredible that you'll forget your name in the morning."

You giggled and pulled him to you and kissed him passionately. But when the kiss got dangerously deep, he stopped you and pulled back. You frowned again. Marcus sighed and pinched your cheek. "You're going to have to be patient, princess.”

—-

That week was more arduous than you anticipated. Your belly got bigger, it was harder to breathe and even sleeping peacefully became almost impossible. The baby was so active that it kept you awake at night. Marcus tried putting pillows between your legs and under your belly to help you sleep better, but it didn't seem to make much of a difference. It wasn't just because you were carrying a child, but also because you couldn't touch him the way you wanted to, even though there were only a few inches between you and Marcus in bed. This absence of physical contact was starting to bother you, but he didn't seem too concerned. Or maybe he was just hiding his feelings really well – you weren't sure. All he did was hold your hand, kiss the top of your head or place a soft kiss on your lips. You were craving for more yet you had to restrain yourself. You kept telling yourself to be patient, to wait a little longer.

Since he's tired of battle, Marcus was spending a little more time at the villa which you were happy about it. But for some reason he was suddenly leaving every afternoon and coming back quite late at night. When you asked him about it, he mentioned that there was an election between the legions, and he had to re-select his centurions and legates after the last war. But it was a bit strange that it was in the evening, maybe it was hard for him too, not being able to touch you, so it was good to be at work, who knows, so you didn't ask too many questions.

When Antonia, your aunt, invited you to a dinner banquet at her house one night, you weren't sure you wanted to go at first. But it was tough spending time at the villa without Marcus and it was very boring to just lie down all day anyway. That is why you decided to go.

The reason for the banquet was that Pauline's husband had now risen to a high position in the council, and they were expecting a child soon too. You thought it would be a good opportunity to meet the other senate wives, so you decided to go.

Marcus said you could go if your midwife would accompany you there as if she wasn't already following you like a shadow. You were hoping this banquet would be a nice change of pace since you hadn't been around people for a while.

Their villa was really grand, though not quite as big as yours. The courtyard was really lovely and spacious. The whole place was lit up with twinkling lights, specially lit for tonight. The soft, happy sounds of women's laughter floated out of the courtyard. As soon as you stepped inside, everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at you. It was just like your wedding day. You couldn't help but smile as you remembered it. You gave them a quick look as you walked over to your aunt. Some of the women looked a little jealous, some admired you, and others looked respectful.

"Oh, my beautiful niece Aurelia! You’re here!" She gave you a big hug and held your hands with joy. "Come dear, please have a seat,” she made you sit on a lectus filled with cushions, which you realised was a specially prepared place for you. Decima put a cushion just behind you to make you feel comfortable, you thanked her.

Paulina came over and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. You congratulated her on her husband's success and on the little one she was expecting. The banquet carried on, with the women chatting and laughing, before they sat down to eat. They kept asking you lots of questions. As you might expect, the questions were all about the child and the birth. Julia was there too, along with two other women. You ignored their looks and carried on chatting with your aunt.

"How long until the birth, princess? Your belly looks so big now," a woman asked.

"My belly was smaller when I gave birth to my daughter." Said another one, they laughed.

"The midwife thinks it'll probably be next week," you replied.

"It's so close now. I hope the baby is born healthy, my lady."

You nodded your thanks.

"I'm sure everything will be fine," your aunt said, smiling at you.

It suddenly dawned on you that your aunt's reason for calling you there was not as innocent as it seemed. After all, you've had the chance to get to know her over the past few months. She was showing off to other women about the power of your status, but she didn't seem to be malicious.

"Oh, it's so tough being a woman, isn't it?” One of them said, with a sigh. "They tell us from a young age that we should marry a powerful man and bear him children. But what about men? It's all so easy and comfortable for them." The woman seemed a little drunk, but she made a fair point.

Antonia narrowed her eyes. "Maybe you're right, my dear, but my Paulina's husband, my son-in-law, is never one to sit still. He's worked hard for his position." Then she looked at you. "Neither is Aurelia's husband, General Acacius, he's a hero. Let's make a toss to him and the glorious Roman army once more!"

You smiled at her and lifted your glass with the juice in it.

"Of course he is," Julia replied, with a hint of sarcasm. You were curious as to why she had broken the silence she had kept all night. And you were pretty sure you wouldn't be pleased with what she had to say. "But he's just like any other man. All men are basically the same."

Before you could ask her a question, someone else butted in and said something into her ear, then they laughed. You frowned.

"Come now! Are we here to talk about men, ladies?" Someone complained.

But you found yourself looking at the woman next to Julia, who was giving you some pretty suggestive glances, and you felt pretty uncomfortable.

"Lady Domna!" you called out loudly. You sat up, giving her a stern look. "There seemed to be an insinuation in your voice. I want to know why."

The woman next to her laughed. "Oh, poor thing, she has no idea."

"What are you talking about?" This behavior annoyed you. Your aunt grabbed your hand, Decima touched your shoulder.

"My niece asked you a question," your aunt said firmly, seemed like she didn't like them at all just like you did.

Julia smiled cruelly. "Aurelia, it could happen to any of us. I don't mean to disrespect his memory, but my husband Septimus, your father, turned to other women to fulfill his sexual needs when my belly was as big as yours."

"My husband did too," one of them complained.

You stood up. "What did you just say?"

Julia rolled her eyes and looked at you like she won a victory. "Whore house," she said. "Acacius, your husband, was there the other day. Horatia's husband visits there often, so she said that he saw him there, right Horatia?"

She nodded hesitantly.

You were stunned, and instinctively put your both hands over your mouth. Suddenly your whole body began to tremble with rage.

 

To be continued…

Chapter 17: The Birth

 

Suspicio semel excitatur, omnia pascit.

Once suspicion is aroused, everything feeds it.

 

 

They were laughing, muttering, glancing, and smiling in a way that could be seen as arrogant, sinister, cruel, or otherwise unkind. However, you find yourself unable to respond to their actions due to an overwhelming sensation of pain in your chest. Since you fell in love with Marcus, you'd felt the same pain in that spot many times for different reasons. When he fought in the Colosseum, when he was wounded, when you were separated, when he spoke of his past, when he went off to war, even every time he left home. But none of it was like the pain you felt now. It was a strange, intense, rage-inducing, all-consuming, aggressive, dangerous feeling.

The gentle touch of your aunt on your shoulder, Decima's concerned expression, the hesitant looks of the other women who respected you – these intense feelings absorbed all of that. As you felt the anger and suspicion spreading throughout your body, you couldn't stop the tears from flowing because of the situation you were in, and you hated it.

"I won't allow you to upset my niece, our princess, in my house! Don't you have any decency?"

Everyone except Julia averted their gaze. "You seem to have forgotten that you're talking to an empress. It was the princess herself who asked the question, Antonia."

Antonia's gaze was sharp. It was clear that there was an unresolved conflict between her and Julia, and you were certain it had something to do with your deceased mother. "It was you who made the insinuation, Empress Domna and everyone here knows it. To gain respect, you must first give it.”

“You're going too far.”

"Hah! Look who's talking! Weren't you the one who first accused your own husband, the emperor, and then a Roman general, of being unfaithful? That seems a bit impudent, doesn't it?"

You took a deep breath and stood up with your aunt's help, this was not the time to cry, this was the time to put your foot down and Julia had already crossed the line and exhausted your patience with her.

"Lady Domna, you should be focusing on your son's future, not my private matters and my husband's. It's a shame you've made a habit of it, but maybe you're influenced by this unfaithful woman at your side," you said, looking at her. You knew who she was. She'd told you sarcastically about Marcus' former wife months ago, but you never confronted her because you didn't care. But now it was time. Looking at her, you continued, everyone, including the slaves, had stopped murmuring and were focused on you two.

"Don't think I'm not aware of what's going on. I may seem patient, but I'm not stupid."

The woman was about to say something in protest, but Julia raised her hand to stop her. You weren't planning to deal with her anyway, you didn't even look at her face even once. Julia raised an eyebrow. "You're speaking to an empress, so watch your tone."

"I was here before you. I was born a princess! I earned my status by birthright, without having to marry an emperor like you."

You could feel your aunt smiling proudly beside you. The women began to murmur quietly. Julia was caught off guard by your harsh words, and the woman next to her shot you a look, but you didn't falter. Her silence emboldened you. You approached her and leaned into her ear. "I know my husband will be furious when I tell him about your slanderous words. You'd clearly forgotten what happened the last time you pissed him off."

"You're almost proud to say that," she said, narrowing her eyes, but you could tell she was tensing up.

"You're the last person to lecture me on pride. How quickly you forgot that thing you asked me for when you came to my villa. That's exactly what a woman without pride would do."

“Are you insulting me now?”

“No, I'm just describing you.” You said sarcastically.

Her eyes flashed with anger. “You little!”

"That's enough!" Your aunt intervened. "Please leave my house, you are no longer welcome here." She said to Julia and her companions. Then she looked at everyone. "Thank you for coming, ladies, but the banquet is over now."

Julia looked at you with a bit of a glare and turned away, and the other women with her followed her, without saying goodbye or showing any respect. You took a deep breath and put your hands on your belly. You could feel the baby moving inside you.

"Are you well, my lady?" Decima asked as she stepped towards you.

"They say if you cut the grass, snakes will appear." Your aunt mumbled. "You did well putting her in her place, Aurelia."

You gave her a half-smile in return. The other women greeted you one by one before leaving the courtyard.

"I think it's an ugly rumor. Everyone in Rome knows your husband Acacius would never do such a thing. If you don't feel well, it'll affect the baby, so it's probably best not to worry about it."

You trusted Marcus, of course, but suspicion had already crept into your mind.

"Thank you, Aunt Antonia. I'd like to take my leave now."

"Of course, my dear. You should go home and get some rest." She gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. "I hope I'm not mistaken, but I believe you said the baby is due next week?"

You nodded.

"I hope everything will be fine."

‘"Aurelia, I'm really sorry about all this. Thank you for coming," Paulina said, giving you a hug. "Please don't concern yourself with what those women say. You need to think about your child.’

"So do you," you said, looking at her belly. "I'll be fine," you promised with a smile. Then took Decima's arm. "Have a good night."

"Good night, cousin," Paulina called out to you.

Your aunt accompanied you to the carriage, and the midwife came along too. "Aurelia, the things they said..." Antonia said in a low tone. "Even if it's true, just remember that you're still his wife, and that won't change. I'm sure it won't affect a love like yours. So you need to make sure it won't damage your marriage. That's what Julia wants, after all. Once she finds out you've had a son, she'll be even more hostile towards you. But as your aunt, I will always be there for you. I'll make sure she doesn't hurt you or your child. I won't let that snake bite me twice." She kissed your cheek and stroked your belly with her hand. "Now go home and rest. Try to keep your mind calm until the birth."

You smiled at her. "Thank you. I appreciate it.”

——

By the time the carriage arrived at the villa, it was already getting dark. You were lost in thought the whole way through, mulling over the past week. Over the past few days, Marcus left the villa in a bit of a rush in the afternoon and came back late. He never wore his armour during that time. Was there any chance he was really going there? Could the mere thought of a possibility hurt someone so much? But it did.

With Decima and the midwife's help, you carefully got out of the carriage. "Please don't mention what's happened back there to anyone, especially not the General. Is that clear?" You looked at the midwife in particular who replied with a nod.

When you stepped into the courtyard, Tullia greeted you.

"Thank Gods you're back safe and sound, my lady."

"Is my husband here?" you asked, looking up at your chambers.

"No, my lady. General Acacius has not yet returned." She and Decima exchanged glances. She was worried and surprised by your behavior.

"I will rest in my room," you said, heading for the stairs.

Decima came to you and took your arm. After all, it wasn't as easy for you to climb the stairs as before. As you approached the door, you looked at her. "I'd like to be alone, please."

She gave a little smile and nod, but her eyes showed her worry. You closed the door and took a moment to survey the room. It was as if your mood had even changed the atmosphere of the room. You touched the tulle around the bed and, as you ran your fingers through the fabric, everything you heard echoed in your head. You removed your necklace, crown, hairpins, bracelets, and earrings, put them all in a wooden box, and placed them in the closet. Once you'd removed the palla and stola, you went over to the bed.

You noticed the burgundy tunic that Marcus had taken off before leaving was on the bed. You sat down and held the tunic in your hands, taking a deep breath to enjoy his scent. Since he got back from the war, you only had physical intimacy once in balneum, and you missed him more than ever. It was tough, but you managed somehow. That is, until tonight. While you missed him on his own in the room, he is with someone else now...

'No, no, no, Aurelia. That's not possible.' You thought to yourself, 'I don't believe he'd do that.'

Your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. You were pretty sure they'd be back to give you a hard time later on. Decima looked over from the doorway with a tray in hand.

"I've made you some chamomile tea." She said with a smile. "Can I come in?"

You smiled back and put the tunic back on the bed. "Yes, please." You stood up and sat down on the bed with her help. She placed a pillow behind your back and handed you the cup with tea in it then sat beside you. "I hope you're not still dwelling on what they said,"

You shook your head, "I am not," you lied.

Decima squinted at you, she knew you well. "Come on now, Aurelia. This is the General we're talking about. His love for you is nothing like I've ever seen. Everyone else might be tempted to cheat, but he is not one of them."

You took a sip of your tea. "But I need to know where he goes in the evenings."

"Do you want me to ask Octavius?”

"No, not him. He can't keep secrets from Acacius." You took another sip. You and Decima then looked at each other and said the same name at the same time. "Cato."

You both laughed.

"I'll speak to him tomorrow," you said, handing her the tea. "I've had enough to drink for now. Thank you, my dear."

She took the cup and helped you lie down on the bed.

“Decima."

She looked at you before leaving the room.

"I'm so glad I have you in my life," you said. "Your friendship is really important to me."

"I value yours just as much, my lady. Get some rest now." She said and then closed the door.

It was already tough enough to get some sleep at night with a little warrior on the way. And on top of all that, you were plagued by unnecessary worries. You wanted to roll over, but even that was difficult now. After a while, you heard voices coming from the courtyard. You closed your eyes when you heard footsteps climbing the stairs. Why did I do this now? You thought to yourself. You couldn't manage to roll over, so you pretended to be sleeping. The door closed and footsteps approached. You felt Marcus's lips on the top of your head and opened your eyes.

"Forgive me, did I wake you up?"

You turned your head and looked at him, into his brown eyes. Was this the man who was unfaithful to his wife? It was impossible. You gave him a smile. "I can't sleep without you."

His smirked. "I'll be right back." He said and removed his shawl first, then his sandals. He ran his fingers through his hair, adjusting, and sat on the bed, crawling in next to you. He then gave you a kiss on the temple, then on the nose, and then on the lips. "I've missed you. Both of you." He put his hand on your belly and smiled when he felt a kick.

"We've missed you too. I suppose it's because you're always coming in late at night these days." You tried to keep your tone calm. His expression changed for a moment as if he was thinking about what to say, which made you a little confused.

"If I might ask for a little more patience, my lady? I'll be going at night less often very soon, I promise."

This left you feeling even more confused. Did he mean after the birth?

"How was the banquet? Did you have a good time?”

Oh, right. I had a great time, indeed!

"It would have been better if Julia hadn't been there."

Marcus frowned. "Or did she say something to upset you?"

You looked him in the eye, but he wasn't asking questions or seeming to expect anything. He seemed genuinely concerned and sincere. "No, she's her usual self, never mind her. Besides, she is the one who got upset. I might have said some harsh things to her." You grinned.

He raised his eyebrows. "You? My Aurelia? Did you really do it?"

"Yes, sir. I did.”

He laughed. "You did well. I love my princess even more when she is tough," he said with a grin, putting his hand under your chin and kissing your lips.

Gods, his mouth tasted so good, and your tongue felt truly blessed. You couldn't help but wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. Marcus placed his hands on either side of you. He was almost starting to undress you, but he managed to stop and pull back. He broke the kiss, gently pushing your hands away. In response, you gave a little frown and pursed your lips, as you always did. He smiled and placed his hand on the back of your neck, guiding your head towards his chest.

'We should get some sleep now, my love." He was breathing heavily. Trying to calm himself down, stroking your hair with one hand while the other was just above your belly. He spoke to the baby for a while, feeling the kicks, and then he fell asleep. You watched him in his sleep, admiring his perfect nose, chin, eyebrows, and his curly grey hair. You had to get rid of this suspicion that was spreading like poison inside you. You fell asleep too, thinking about how to do it. You woke up more than twice over the rest of the night because your growing uterus was putting pressure on your bladder, leaving less room for urine and more frequent urges to pee. Fortunately, you had a devoted husband who was kind enough to wait for you at the door of the latrine while you peed. It must be a sin to slander this wonderful man.

When you opened your eyes in the morning and realised Marcus wasn't in bed, you had the urge to look up. However, you let out a slight groan when you felt a rather strong kick in your stomach.

"Good morning to you too, little one." You mumbled sleepily.

"Another kick?" Marcus asked. He was at his desk, looking like he was busy with some papers.

"Yes. It seems our child is eager to come out. Well, I'm really looking forward to it." You said with a sigh.

"Are you certain? I'm just afraid we won't be able to hold him once he starts walking. He's going to tire us out."

You giggled. "I agree." You said you had a hard time trying to sit up in bed. Marcus got up from his desk and came over to help you. "And I am certain."

“Hm?"

You grabbed his hand and pulled him closer. "You asked me if I was certain. So, yes I am. I would like to give birth to our child as soon as possible so that I can be able to touch you in the way that I desire."

He swallowed, his heart starting to race. He then lowered his head and whispered into your ear. "I must say, my lady, you try my patience too much. Be sure my revenge will be great.’

‘'I am eagerly awaiting." You giggled.

"You are quite mischievous." He chuckled and kissed you on the cheek.

——

After breakfast, you accompanied Marcus to the stables to visit Unio and Dromos. Once you had finished feeding them, Marcus proposed that he teach you how to groom. First, he made sure Unio stayed still then he handed you the brush. Unio sniffed the brush, her hot breath made you giggle.

"I think she wants to eat this. I believe you've already eaten quite a lot, have you not?"

Marcus laughed. "Start with her withers, right up here," he guided your arm to the top of her.

"I haven't seen Mau since we returned," you murmured as you brushed Unio's mane. Marcus put his hand on yours, and the other hand on your waist. Unio let out a soft whinny, it seemed that your movements were helping to relax her.

"I didn't see her either."

"I asked everyone but no one saw her," you said, pursing your lips. You missed her as much as everyone and everything else. She was one of the things that reminded you of your days in Egypt, after all. Marcus noticed your sad expression.

"It's possible she went elsewhere when the villa was abandoned. I think she'll be back."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes, I do." He touched your cheek. "Listen, I really don't want to see you upset about it. You've been feeling a bit worried about everything lately, which is a concern for me.”

Well, he was right, but there was nothing you could do. "I have to admit that I'm feeling a little nervous as the big day approaches, but it's been worse since you went off to war. Those days were pretty tough for me." He could hear worry in your voice. "I'm scared, Marcus. I'm scared that at if something might happen and we'll be separated again."

He put his arm around you. "We don't know what the future holds, but I'll do what I have to do. If I have to fight, I will." You bowed your head he put his hand under your chin, lifting your face up. "To fulfill our dreams. For our child." His gaze fell to your stomach. "Or should I say, for our children, dozens of them," he said with a grin.

You giggled at him and then nodded. "We'll have a bright future, Marcus. You'll be winning victories, and I'll be raising our children."

"My beautiful Aurelia," he cupped your face gently. "As the Gods are my witnesses, to have won you is my greatest, most glorious victory."

You smiled and he kissed your lips passionately, lovingly. You put your arms around his neck and he put his around your waist, but your belly prevented him.

"It looks like I'll have to wait a little longer to wrap you in my arms the way I did before." He said with a laugh. You place your hands on your waist. "I suppose I'll have to wait until I get my waist back, too."

He laughed again, and you joined in. Unio also let out a whine, as if they wanted to share in your joy.

——

In the evening, Marcus wore his white tunic and red shawl just as he did on other evenings and left the villa. You found yourself grappling with the same feelings of unease as you had the day before. You needed to put an end to it, and tonight was the night. That's why you sent one of the slaves and asked Cato to come to the villa. Norell spotted you and Decima on your way to him, but you made an excuse and avoided her. You were sure she'd tell Tullia everything, which would make things more complicated. Cato was in the stables and greeted you when he saw you.

"My lady, may I ask why you sent for me? Are you well?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I hope no one realized you coming here."

"No, they didn't. The training was over anyway. It's usually quiet in the evenings."

"Not for your general, apparently," you said, squinting. "Cato, I'm going to ask you a question and I need you to be honest with me, alright?”

He opened his eyes as wide as he could. "How could I possibly deceive you, my lady? Or  maybe I have made a mistake?"

"No, this has nothing to do with you. It's about the General, my husband."

Cato looked at Decima and then back at you, surprised.

"I'm all ears."

"General Acacius... he... at night…" You took a deep breath to continue. "I want to know where he spends the whole night.'"

He scratched his head, looking thoroughly confused. ‘'You mean, somewhere other than the barracks? He does meet with the legates from time to time. And then..." he said, "And…" You got the feeling he wasn't being entirely truthful when he suddenly averted his eyes.

"And what else?"

He took a deep breath.

"Tell me," you demanded.

"He doesn't usually tell me where he's going, but over the last few days, he's been leaving in the middle of the night with Sir Octavius in an incognito outfit. And the other night I heard them talking..." He shook his head. "Maybe I misheard."

"You said with Octavius?" Decima enquired.

Now she looked as concerned as you were.

"Tell us what you heard.”

He took a moment to swallow. "Once I'd helped him take off his armour and closed the door on my way out, Sir Octavius asked if they were heading somewhere. The general said to him that they need to get going..." Cato bowed his head. Was he embarrassed?

Your heart started to beat faster. "And where is that place they're heading to?"

"Tell us quickly, Cato." Decima was annoyed.

Cato answered without looking up. "Um... Whore house. Forgive me, but they said they were going there."

Hearing those words again made your body tremble with anger.

There was silence for a short time. It was only when Decima touched your cheek that you realised you were crying.

"Are you alright?"

You looked at her, unable to speak.

"Forgive me. It's a stupid question, isn't it?"

You wiped your tears. "He..." Your voice was a little shaky. "And where are he and Octavius now?"

Cato lifted his head, but he still couldn't meet your gaze. "They left just before I did, my lady, but I really don't know where they went this time.”

"Go and let them know I need the carriage to be ready."

They looked at you with their eyes wide open.

"My lady, but..."

"Or did you not hear what I said?"

Cato swallowed. "I'll get it ready, my lady."

"One more thing. I want you to keep this between us. This conversation never happened. Do you understand?"

He nodded and strode purposefully towards the courtyard to find the coachman.

"What are you thinking?" Decima asked.

"We're going there. I need to see for myself."

"You are mad. How are you going to go there like this?" she asked, looking at your big belly. "What if something happens?  They might not even be there..."

"Decima. I have to get rid of this suspicion that torments me. You understand me, don't you?

She let out a sigh. "I understand you perfectly. Alright, I'm coming with you to make sure Octavius isn't betraying me."

"We need to change our outfits though. If I come in, the others might get suspicious, so you go and bring cloaks for both of us."

"I hope we're not doing anything wrong, my lady."

You crossed your arms. "We'll see soon who's doing the wrong thing."

"Still, I really hope it's a misunderstanding." She said with a sad tone.

"I do hope so, dear.”

—-

At your own request, Coachman took you to a location that was a considerable distance from the whore house. You told him to wait for your return and proceeded to head towards the street.  You were waiting at the corner, which afforded you a clear view of the entrance.

"This is rather absurd, don't you think?" Decima whinnied.

"There's no need to be concerned. We'll simply observe from a distance."

This street, which was quite lively at this time of night, was much the same tonight. The sounds of people laughing and walking by could be heard echoing throughout the street. Given the lack of light, it was unlikely that you would attract attention, although it was possible that the guards at the door might notice you.

"I'm sorry," you murmured as you gazed at the gate, hoping against hope that you would not see the face you expected to see, every time someone new came in or out. "I can imagine it must be hard for you to come here again."

Decima shook her head. "What happened in the past is not something that affects me any more. I suppose that everything changed for me after I met Octavius.

"Decima," you smiled at her, but your expression changed as you remembered why you were there.

"Ah, there they are." She said, pointing forward.

You looked over and saw Marcus and Octavius, wearing their black cloaks, coming out. You turned on your heel and leaned against the wall, not because you wanted to hide but because you were pretty shaken. Decima kept her eyes on them.

"I can't believe it, Decima. They were right. How could he do this to me? Am I not attractive anymore? Am I ugly? Does he no longer love me?"

"Aurelia-"

"Couldn't he have waited a little longer? I just don't understand why he did this to me. What am I going to do now?"

"Aurelia-"

"No, don't say anything. There's nothing more to say-"

"Aurelia, shut up for a minute, please." She shushed you.

You looked at her in surprise.

"Forgive me, but you'd better take a look at this.'‘

"I've seen enough." You said, shrugging your shoulders.

"Actually, you haven't. Please, take a look."

You did as she said and took another look, and you were just as surprised as before. Right next to them was a blond-haired man wearing a cloak, just like them.

“Geta!?”

Decima covered your mouth and pulled you behind the wall. "Shhh. You'll get us caught."

You kept your voice low. "But I don't understand. Geta is here too? I am greatly disappointed to find that all the men in my life are so unreliable."

"Gods! Aurelia, try to stay calm for a minute." Her voice was almost pleading. "I don't think the situation is as it seems."

"How do you mean?"

"That's Felix and Aris over there. And those are the Praetorians with Emperor Geta."

You peeked and saw that she was right.

"I think it's like a secret mission or something." She looked at you nervously. "We came here for nothing."

You bit your lower lip. "So.. We've got it all wrong."

Suddenly, they all looked in your direction, and you felt your heart racing as you stepped back behind the wall. "Decima, we have to get out of here now."

"Indeed."

You had just stepped into the street when a familiar voice called out from behind you making you freeze.

"You two! Stop right there!" Octavius’ voice was sharp.

Decima looked at you with concern from under the hood, but you took her arm and guided her forward. Aris and Felix stepped in front of you. Someone drew their sword, and the sound of it ringing out echoed through the street. It was Marcus. He tilted his head to look at you, reached out, and pushed back your hood, a playful look on his face as he did so. He'd already figured out who you were.

The others looked at you in surprise and bowed their heads.

"My lady, no matter how much you try to hide your pretty face, your belly gives you away." 

You averted your eyes, and he sheathed his sword.

"I really wonder what you are doing here."

You looked at Decima and saw that Octavius had come to her side. You then looked back at Marcus with a hesitant look. He was waiting for your answer, raising his eyebrows.

"I have the same question for you, General." You said stubbornly.

Marcus ordered the others to go to Geta's side, then turned to you again.

"You never cease to surprise me, Aurelia. How could you come here like this?"

"I had to," you snapped.

"Did someone mention they saw me here? And instead of trusting me, you came here to check on me?"

"Those women are shameless. They were being pretty mean, laughing and joking. I didn't want to believe it, but you were being so mysterious. I thought maybe you wanted to come here because you've stopped touching me. I thought... maybe... you don't love me anymore."

Suddenly he grabbed your shoulders, his expression was stern. "You silly woman." He gave your cheek a little nudge with his nose, looking at you quite tenderly now. "All those wretch women would drown in a single drop of my love for you. Don't ever believe them." He took your face in his hands. "Don't you know that my days and nights all belong to you? My moon, my sun, my spring... Don't you know how much I love you?" He bent down and kissed your temple, his beard tickling a little, making you smile.

"Marcus, I love you too. You are the breath I take, without you I am incomplete, wounded. But suspicion has driven me mad. Forgive me.”

He smiled and then grabbed your arm. "We'll talk about this when we return home. Now I have to complete my mission."

"What mission is that?"

"I came here because your brother asked me to keep an eye on his cousin. He has been meeting secretly with members of the Senate. It's a bit of a long story."

"Sister?" Geta laughed. "Acacius, it's pretty amazing you could recognise your wife from that distance. Remarkable!" He gave a little grin and turned up his thumb like when he does at the Colosseum, which you found a bit annoying.

"So my husband had to come here because of you?" You asked, frowning.

"It was meant to be a secret meeting, so he hid from you. I mean, I know how stubborn you are, but I didn't expect you to do this."

"Secret?" You laughed hysterically. "You caught by Horatia's husband."

Marcus crossed his arms squinting at Geta. "See? I warned you, but you were insistent."

"I couldn't trust anyone else but you, Acacius. Besides, It only made it easier for them to think you were unfaithful."

"How could you say that so easily? He would never do such a thing, I trust him, but you made him look like he did!" You barked.

Marcus smirked.

"Hah but yet you are here, sister."

"Your mother made me!" You took a step towards him, Marcus grabbed your hand. "That shameless woman accused my husband!" Suddenly warm water ran down your legs, you looked down with wide eyes and saw your legs all soaked including your sandals.

You froze.

"Gods!" Decima cried out.

It took the men around you a bit longer to figure out what had happened.

"Sister, did you just… pee on yourself?"

You grabbed his collar angrily. "The baby's coming!" You yelled.

Then they all froze.

A strong contraction in your womb made you groan in pain. Marcus was unsure of what to do for a moment, but when he heard you moan, he came round and wrapped his arms around you.

"Aurelia! My love, are you alright?"

You shook your head and you grabbed his collar this time. "Marcus, I can't give birth here. Please take me home now, please!"

He nodded, "You're right," he said before taking you in his arms in a hurry.

Another contraction hit you. "Aah! Marcus, please!" You begged.

"What if she gives birth before you get to the villa?" Geta asked, sounding anxious. "Maybe here," he said, glancing behind him.

"I won't give birth to my child in a whore house!" You yelled at the top of your lungs. The whole street was looking at you, but you ignored them.

"Sir, we need the midwife," Decima said.

"I'll get there before you," said Octavius.

You were having lower back pain along with contractions making you writhe.

"Acacius! Palatine Hill is closer to here than the villa. You would not want her to give birth on the street, are you?"

You moaned loudly in pain. Marcus frowned, thinking.

You clenched your jaw and tried to speak. "No, Marcus, I want to go home, please. Ow!"

"There's no time for a discussion, Aurelia! Octavius, go to the villa and speak with the midwife. Then bring her to Palatine Hill."

"Yes, sir!" He said and rushed towards his horse.

"Damn Palatine Hill!" You shouted.

Marcus grinned nervously, whispering into your ear. "Just hold on, love."

"The carriage is just over there," Decima said, pointing ahead.

Marcus ran over and helped you into the carriage, carrying you in his arms. You held his other hand tightly the whole way, and he held yours back just as tight. He was kissing your fingertips one by one, trying to soothe you as you groaned in pain.

"Breathe in, my love, take deep breaths."

You did as he said, but when the carriage reached Palatine Hill, you started to feel a bit scared. Marcus hurried down from the carriage, holding you tightly. Decima got off right after you. The guards at the entrance to the grand gate looked at you with surprise.

"Open the gate now!" Marcus yelled at them.

"General. Princess," they greeted you as you continued to moan. Then they opened the gate for you to enter, looking worried for you.

Soon Geta arrived with the other guards. He immediately dismounted his horse and ran after Marcus. The guards struggled to keep up with him. Julia heard the voices from the other courtyard, heading there. She realised Geta first.

"Your Majesty! Where have you been? Elagabalus is nowhere to be seen and- What is this?”

Marcus ignored her and headed for the stairs to your chambers, your moans and screams accompanying him all the way.

Julia was left gaping after you two, while Geta followed at a brisk pace.

"Not now, mother! Aurelia is in labor! My nephew is coming!"

Julia ran to catch up with him. "But why is she giving birth here instead of her house?"

You could hear them talking as Marcus carried you upstairs with you in his arms, but you didn't care.

"If you're going to keep complaining, please stay here!"  Geta shouted at her which made Julia give up climbing the stairs. She smiled as she looked at the slaves hurrying upstairs. "Since your midwife isn't here, you might even die, Aurelia," she muttered to herself.

As soon as he got into the room, Marcus put you on the bed and put lots of pillows behind you.

"Marcus, please don't leave me."

He grabbed your hand again. "Never, my love, I'm here.”

Decima helped you take off your sandals while Marcus held your hand tightly.

Geta came over to you. "How are you holding up, sister?"

"The contractions aren't that frequent, but I can feel the baby's coming."

"Octavius will fetch her right away, just hang in there, please." Marcus kissed your hand.

You smiled at him. "Decima, you know what's needed. Make sure everything's ready for the midwife when she arrives."

Decima nodded and stepped towards the slaves. "Bring warm clean water, oil, a basin, and lots of clean clothes!"

"You heard her! Move! Quick, quick!" Geta gestured for them to leave the room.

Marcus stood up took off his black cloak and sat next to you on the bed and put his arm around. You rested your head on his chest. The contractions were becoming more frequent and painful, but Marcus holding his hand helped you to stay strong.

"It seems you two have somehow ended up here again," Geta said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

You gave a forced smile. "That may be true, but let's not forget this is all because of you."

He frowned. "Am I the one who told you to spy on your husband in the middle of the night with your big belly? Even a place like that…"

"Don't even think about mentioning that place!" You barked. Your voice was louder than you intended because of the pain.

Marcus pressed his lips to the top of your head, you could feel him smiling.

"However. My nephew wants to be born here so he can meet his uncle first. I like him already." His famous smug smile appeared all over his face.

After a few pretty intense contractions and the pain they caused, you were relieved to hear that the midwife had finally arrived at the palace. Marcus stood up when the midwife came in the room. 

The midwife greeted you both and asked permission to lift the hem of your tunic. Marcus made Geta out of the room and then himself. The Midwife examined you vaginally to see how your opening was and how close it was to your cervix. She knew you were a medicus, of course, so she asked.

"My lady. How far apart are the contractions?"

"Five minutes apart." You replied.

"A walk will do you good, my lady. I'll prepare what you need."

You nodded and got up with Decima's help. Marcus came in to talk to the midwife through the door.

"There was still time. But it looks like our child will be born early. Has something happened to him?" He kept his tone low and gave you a quick look.

"Keep your heart at ease, general. Your child is fine, thank the Gods. Something seems to have triggered the labour. I hope your child will be born in good health. I'll make sure Lady Auelia has everything she needs for labour, if I may."

"I hope so."

She nodded and headed for the stairs accompanied with the slaves.

"Don't worry, Acacius," Geta said, putting his hand on his shoulder. "You know how strong and stubborn she is. I'm sure everything will be fine."

They were looking at you, both concerned about you and excited for the baby. And you looked at them both and smiled, maybe for the last time before the birth.

After walking around the room with Marcus for a while, you started to feel too much pain making you unable to stand up.

"The contractions are a minute apart now," you told the midwife.

"Please sit on the bed, my lady." She glanced at the slaves. "Could you pour the water?" She washed her hands while Marcus helped you to get settled on the bed. The midwife then looked at the men in the room, her gaze timid. "General, labour has now begun. Rest assured, I'll do everything I can for our princess."

Marcus nodded, stroked your head, and kissed the top of it. "Be strong my love. I'll be right outside the door."

You would have liked him to stay with you, but you had never seen or heard of a man doing that. So you didn't ask him for it.

"You won't believe it, but I'll pray for you and my nephew, sister," Geta said with a smile. Then they left the room together.

You let out a scream as Marcus left the room and the contraction intensified. Your chest felt tight and you got a sharp pain from your tailbone to your lower back.

With the help of the slaves, the midwife rubbed olive oil on her hands and pressed them on your belly. The baby was running out of time, as your waters had broken hours ago. The pain was getting worse by the minute. Decima was wiping the sweat from your forehead and giving you soothing and encouragement. As your screams echoed throughout the Domus Severiana, Marcus realised he'd never felt so scared and helpless in his life. Octavius watched his friend anxiously as Marcus balled his hands into fists and paced back and forth. Geta was just as wound up as well. Your screams, which were getting louder and louder by the minute, were making them things worse for them. At last, Marcus could bear it no longer.

"That's enough," he hissed and stormed into the room. Geta was going to stop him but his expression made him give up.

Marcus closed the door behind him. When he turned round, he was taken aback to see the slaves soaking cloths in water and handing them to the midwife. They were in such a hurry that they didn't even notice he'd entered the room.

“My lady, push a little more,” the midwife said in a pleading voice.

"Marcus! It hurts! Please make it stop! Please!"

He wrapped his arm tightly around you. "I know, love. I know. I'm here. You can do it. You're the strongest woman I know.’"

Another push and another scream. "Something's wrong, isn't it?" You asked the midwife.

"The baby's not in the right position for labour." I feel a foot. I'll have to turn him. "Just hang in there and push when I tell you to."

When the next contraction hit, you screamed with the most horrible sound Marcus has ever heard. Then you leaned against him you cried out in horrible, broken sobs, your whole body trembling with the effort.

"You're doing so well," Marcus whispers into your sweaty hair, "So well, my love, just a little more."

Once the midwife had managed to turn the baby, you could feel her fingers inside you. Your uterine walls were now ready to push the baby out. You grabbed Marcus's hand and squeezed it, then started pushing with all your might. But it didn't work. The baby wasn't cooperating. Something was wrong, and everyone in the room knew it. But that wasn't the worst of it. You were running out of strength. You weren't sure how much longer you could hold on.

"Bring some more hot water," said the midwife. Decima wiped the sweat from your forehead, Marcus gathered up your sweat-soaked hair, pushed it behind your neck and kissed your forehead.

"Deep breaths. Come on, my love." You breathed in and out with him.

"Could you get our princess some water and honey?" The midwife asked one of the slaves.

The midwife smiled at you as Decima helped you drink water. "Your child is going to be very stubborn, my lady. He insists on not coming."

You and Marcus looked at each other and smiled. But the pain returned and took your breath away. You gripped Marcus' and Decima's hands tightly and took a deep breath. The midwife checked between your legs under the covers and her eyes lit up.

"My lady. Now, push with all your strength. I can see the head is crowning!"

For some reason – maybe because of the unbearable pain – you couldn't help but get annoyed at her cheerfulness and want to choke her. But Marcus's kiss gave you the courage you needed, and you took a deep breath and pushed with all your strength. Then you turned your face away from his and screamed again, hoarse from the effort of so many hours. You screamed and screamed, feeling his cheek against your racing pulse, his lips on your cheek. And finally, your screams were replaced by a high-pitched wail, and…

The midwife stood up with the most beautiful little thing in her arms. "A healthy boy." She said cheerfully, holding the baby out for you to see. Then she gave the baby a little shake which helped him to take his first breath, and he let out a loud cry that filled the room with joy. "You did it, my lady!"

Marcus kissed your temple. "You are marvelous, my love. I’m very proud of you."

“My lady! He’s beautiful!” Decima squeezed your hand.

You smiled at them, feeling exhausted. Your legs were shaking and aching, and you could barely feel your body, but at least now you were no longer in pain.

Geta came bursting into the room. "Has it been born? Has my nephew been born?" He was looking for the child who had just been crying. He stopped suddenly when he saw that the bed was wet with your blood. The midwife carefully cut the baby's cord and wrapped it in a cloth with Decima's help. She placed the baby in Marcus's arms, and he smiled at him. You started to cry as you watched them. You'd never seen anything so beautiful in your life and you were pretty sure you never would. Marcus came over to you with your son in his arms. You looked at the little one who had just caused you hours of pain and were amazed at how beautiful he was.

The beautiful infant who had given them all such a scare was big in size, adorably chubby, and had a sprinkle of brown hair covering his crown. He was extremely healthy-looking... and had a cry very similar to yours.

He was perfect…

“Gods!” Geta clasped his hands. “Look how tiny he is!”

You were weeping with joy, and relief, too, that the ordeal was finally over.

From the moment you laid eyes on his sweet little face, all your tiredness just melted away. You reached out, and Marcus gently placed the baby in your arms. This feeling... It was the most amazing thing you could ever imagine. When you first felt that magical moment of motherhood, everything around you disappeared for a moment. It was just you and your baby. Then you looked at Marcus, who was sitting next to you. The baby grabbed his father's finger and held on tight, and a big smile appeared on Marcus's face. Everything was just perfect, beyond amazing, and you felt like you were finally complete.

‘"Thank you, my love," he whispered in your ear.

It took you a moment to look up and realise what he was saying, as you were so overwhelmed by the baby's beauty that you couldn't take your eyes off him.

"For what?" you asked, your voice clearly showing how tired you were.

"For giving me a family, one I could never have dreamed of."

You looked at him and smiled. He kissed you on the lips, but your kiss was interrupted by a throat-clearing sound coming from someone else.

"I want to hold my nephew too." Geta held out his arms.

You looked at Marcus, after receiving your approval, gently took the baby from you and carefully placed him in his uncle's arms.

"He looks just like you, Acacius! I'd like to congratulate you both. Thank you for making me an uncle."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Marcus said sincerely.

"Your Majesty, general, if you could excuse us, we need to clean up Lady Aurelia. And the baby needs to be breastfed."

Geta gave the baby to you and rubbed your head. "Rest now. You must be tired from all that screaming, you noisy."

You rolled your eyes at him and smiled. Marcus came over and kissed your cheek. "I will be back, my love."

You nodded and watched them leave the room. With the help of the midwife and Decima, you removed your bloodied tunic and they cleaned you up and quickly put you into a new one. The slaves were changing the bed sheets at the same time. Then you lay down on the bed to breastfeed the baby for the first time. He was already hungry and opened his little mouth wide, easily grasping the nipple. You were both very tired, so you fell asleep together. Decima gently laid the baby down next to you and covered you with the bedcover.

——

Marcus and Geta left the room together and went downstairs. When Octavius and the others saw them, they nodded.

"Congratulations, sir."

"Thank you, brother."

They embraced each other. The others also offered their congratulations to him and Geta.

Geta smiled at them and turned to Marcus. "I know it's not the right time, but... Elagabalus... Tomorrow, I will exile that bastard from Rome. I have a good reason to stand my ground against the Senate too. I owe you all one, Acacius. I shall reward you. Whatever you want is yours."

"Your Majesty, I already have everything I want. You simply need to be an emperor who keeps his word to his people."

"I'll make sure I do." He promised and then left his side.

As he walked toward his chambers, he noticed his mother sitting in the courtyard.

"So it's a boy." She gave the wine glass a little shake.

"I can hear the sadness in your voice, mother."

She stood up. "Apologies! I'm not as pleased as you are! Your throne is under threat. You must wed. Refuse no longer.”

"I'd love to be here listening to your nonsense, but I'm really tired." He said and turned away.

"You'll have to get rid of him sooner or later."

Geta stopped and turned around, looking annoyed.

"Are you out of your mind? I've already got enough on my plate, and now you're telling me to kill a little baby, my nephew? The real threat is Elagabulus, thanks to your false wisdom.”

She folded his arms. "We overcame Macrinus' dominance in the Senate thanks to him, but I was unaware of his true intentions. Fortunately for us, you caught him in the act."

"Thanks to Acacius, mother!" Geta snapped. "You may have forgotten or ignored his sacrifices and heroism, but I will be grateful to that man for the rest of my life. Also, I care deeply for Aurelia and my nephew." He looked at his mother with a cold, threatening gaze. "I am warning you. If you ever say anything mean or do anything to upset her, I will exile you from Rome like my brother Caracalla did. Don't think I can't."

Julia froze. She was taken aback by his reaction. She watched him walk towards the stairs, her anger evident in her trembling body. She then threw her cup forward in a gesture of frustration. As soon as it hit the marble floor, it made a loud clatter, wine spilling over the surface. Geta looked down from the balustrade. Before going into his room, he called one of the guards over. "Keep an eye on Lady Domna. I want to know every step she takes. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Highness.”

—-

You opened your eyes in a state of panic, gasping for breath. When you realised the baby wasn't with you, it felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest.

"Marcus!"

You sat up in bed but groaned as a sharp pain shot through your womb.

Marcus turned towards you in shock, and you took a deep breath when you saw the baby in his arms.

Decima rushed in to check on you.

"Forgive me. I heard your voice..."

"It's alright," Marcus said. When she left the room, he approached you. "Are you all right, my love?"

"I had a nightmare," you said, your heart still pounding in your throat.

"They were taking him away from me, Marcus." Your eyes filled with tears.

In your dream, you saw someone taking the baby away. Your legs were a little shaky, still affected by the dream.

Marcus looked concerned and handed you the baby. "As long as I'm here, no one can take him or hurt him."

"I can't stay here. Not when Julia is around." You brought the baby to the breast, with your nipple aimed at the roof of his mouth. Marcus sat on the end of the bed next to you.

"My love, you've lost a lot of blood and you're battered. You need to recover your strength. Let's stay here tonight. We'll return tomorrow if you feel better.”

"Is it not still morning?"

"I suppose you didn't realise how the day went by because you slept in. The little one looks hungry too." He said with a grin. The sounds he made while sucking were so beautiful that Marcus couldn't help but sigh. "I've never seen anything more beautiful in my life." He stroked the baby's head gently with his hand.

"That's what you said about my beauty once." You teased.

He looked at you. "That's because he has some of his mother's beauty in him." He smirked. "Speaking of beauty." He stood up and walked over to the table. He took something out of the leather bag.

You were curious about what it was. The baby seemed to be full, so you pulled your nipple back and made your baby's back lie along your arm. Marcus sat back down on the bed and handed you something wrapped in a fancy cloth.

"I brought this for you from Aleppo. I had intended to give it to you earlier, but unfortunately, it fell and broke along with other items during the return journey by ship. I had it repaired and I thought it would be nice to give it to you after the birth."

"What is this?"

"Let me hold the child. You open it."

With great care, you placed the baby in his arms and opened your gift which was wrapped in a bluish cloth. It was a circular object, crafted from silver and featuring a flower-shaped relief. You turned it over and were somewhat taken aback to see your own reflection on its shiny surface.

"Much better than the bronze mirrors. I wanted you to see the beauty I see. Are you pleased?"

You looked at him. "Marcus, this is beautiful."

He smiled and carefully placed the baby next to you. Then he sat down next to you again and kissed you on the lips. "It pales in comparison to your beauty, my love." And he kissed you again, passionately, with love and a little longing. "You know, you're much more beautiful now. Your breasts have grown a lot." He swallowed hard. "They keep coming to mind, making me want you even more."

Your cheeks flushed. "Like you said before, we'll have to be patient a little longer, General." Your fingers ran along his collarbone.

"But I really want to return home tomorrow."

He nodded and kissed your hand. "As you wish, my lady."

 

 

 

Chapter 18: The Unexpected

Notes:

Guys I did some research on the baby's name and since my sister is a historian I consulted her. In Rome, names are arranged as follows: a male Roman citizen typically had three names (the tria nomina): a praenomen (first name), a nomen (also called nomen gentilicium, identifying the clan or gens), and a cognomen (a nickname, identifying a particular branch of a gens). So Marcus(given name) Justus(probably like the title or Justia gens I think they gave him that name in the film because it means ‘just’) Acacius (clan name which you cant change like a surname) so in this case I named the baby Marcius. if you look at the quote from Wikipedia you will understand better:
In Latin, most nomina were formed by adding an adjectival suffix, usually -ius, to the stem of an existing word or name. Frequently this required a joining element, such as -e-, -id-, -il-, or -on-. Many common nomina arose as patronymic surnames; for instance, the nomen Marcius was derived from the praenomen Marcus, and originally signified Marci filius, "son of Marcus”.

 

"Vivere est militare..."

To live is to fight...

 

It had been almost a month since the day you considered the most beautiful day of your life, the day you gave birth. You hadn't anticipated that day to unfold in this way, but life often has a way of surprising. You were pleased and eager as you bade farewell to Palatine Hill and returned to the villa. It would be fair to say that the population of both Rome and the villa had increased by one. It wasn't easy for newborn babies in Rome either. Firstly, the baby had to survive the first month, as almost half of newborn babies did not make it through the first week. In the days after the birth, it was traditional to wear a chain of amulets around the child's neck. You made him wear it as per the custom, but after a month you decided to take it off because it kept waking him up from his sleep. That's why a special naming ceremony was held when the baby was one month old. Fortunately, since your baby was healthy and strong enough to be a newborn – probably because he got his strength from his father – he survived the first month very well.

On the day of the special naming ceremony at the Juno temple, after the customary sacrifices to the god Juno and other deities, Marcus announced the baby's name and offered a prayer. As the firstborn son, you thought it fitting to give him the name Marcius Justus Acacius. He bore a striking resemblance to his father as if you had given birth to him anew, just as you had wished. A son who was a true reflection of that wonderful man in every way. This was perhaps best confirmed by Tullia, as she was the only person who knew Marcus from the moment he was born. The baby, Marcius, brought joy and light to the villa with his loud cries. He was a source of joy for everyone. While everyone was looking after him and taking good care of him,  you spent most of the time breastfeeding him and recovering from exhaustion after the birth. For the first two weeks, Marcus was seldom absent from the villa, and very attentive to you and the baby. He seemed to be in a more cheerful mood lately, always smiling.

During that time period, your aunt Antonia and your cousin Paulina came to the villa on several occasions to see the baby. Your aunt seemed pleased and proud that you had given birth to a son. Paulina had been told by her own midwife that her baby was a boy, which seemed to make her really happy because she already had two daughters. They offered you one of their slaves to help you breastfeed your baby, but you refused. You were determined to breastfeed him yourself. The midwife too, came by each week to check on the baby's progress and your recovery. She advised against hot baths, so you took care of your personal hygiene with the girls' help. It looked like the bleeding had stopped completely, but it would be another two weeks before the midwife could say that you were fully recovered.After a lengthy period of waiting, that night had finally arrived. The night you and Marcus had been looking forward to for so long. You were eager to take a hot bath, as well as to touch his skin freely. After breastfeeding the baby that evening, your heart was pounding with excitement as you took your bath in the balneum with the help of Decima and Norell. The baby was going to stay with the girls tonight, so after breastfeeding him, you kissed him and went up to the room.

First, you put on your tunic, which is made of very thin, see-through fabric. You smiled as you touched your waist and felt the slimline. You were pleased that the big belly was gone, but you still missed that feeling. You looked at your reflection in the mirror Marcus had given you and ran your fingers through your hair. It was both strange and amazing to see yourself so clearly. You put the mirror back in the drawer, took afig from the tray with the food you'd prepared, and went out to the balcony. Gazing out at the garden below, you thought back to that special night, that sacred night when you gave yourself to Marcus, your first time. You might not be as inexperienced now, but you were feeling the same excitement. As the minutes passed, it became more difficult to wait, because remembering that night made you remember his every touch on your skin. You peeled your fig and popped it in your mouth, watching the moonlight dance on your creamy skin as you chewed.

You returned to the inside of the room and lay on your front on the bed. It had been months since you'd been able to lie in this position, so you were really enjoying it. Just then, you heard voices coming from the courtyard and your heart started to beat faster. The footsteps on the stairs were loud and sounded like they were moving quite quickly. You grinned and turned on your side in bed, smoothing your hair.

Marcus entered the room briskly, his eyes seeking you out and a hint of a smile playing on his lips when he saw you on the bed. He closed the door behind him, looking at you intently, his heart racing.

"Or did you begin without me, princess?"

"How could I, General?" You got out of bed as he removed his shawl. "Wine?" You picked up the wine cup on the tray and poured wine from the decanter. Marcus was sitting on the bed, taking off his sandals. “Please."

He'd finished, waiting for you as you walked over to him holding two cups in your hands. He was looking into your eyes as he took the cup from your hand, even as he drank. "Have you been touching yourself in my absence?" He smirked as he gazed at you from head to toe.

"Marcus..." you whined cutely.

"Tell me," he demanded, and sat you on his lap, licking his lips.

Your cheeks flushed. "Maybe a little." You took a sip of your wine.

"Where? Show me."

You smiled mischievously and took his hand, guiding it to where you wanted him most. "Here. But I much prefer your touch."

Feeling your wetness beneath the fabric, he swallowed, breathing heavily now. He quickly drank his wine and placed his cup on the floor, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Let me feed you first, my love. You must be hungry.”

"I am not hungry." His brown eyes were alight with desire. "I am starving." He said in a deep voice as he took the cup from your hand. "Besides, the night is long." He grinned and pushed you onto the bed, he did it so fast that you gasped.

He leaned over and you felt a shudder run through you, not from the light breeze that blew in through the balcony and extinguished the oil lamp's flame, but from a deep longing, a passionate desire, and a strong urge to kiss. His eager lips found yours and moaned as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. He placed his hand on the back of your neck and drew you closer, deepening the kiss. He was very much compelled by your sweet tongue and breath and longed to drink from your mouth as he wished.

You ran your fingers through his grey hair as the kiss itself became a lascivious, passionate mating of mouths. It wasn't until he broke the kiss to run his lips over your trembling skin that you realised you were breathless, dizzy. He pushed your hair back to expose your neck and ran his lips and tongue over your jugular. As he licked your skin, he was pleased to realise you'd just had a bath and your skin smelled like the jasmine oil you'd rubbed on your body – you were doing it all for him. His hands grabbed the straps of your tunic as his lips moved under your chin. But as he slid them down, the threads on the straps caught on the ring on his finger. You giggled at him, but he looked serious.

"Having fun, I see…"

"It's just like our wedding night all over again," you teased. "There's something in the way again."

He smiled smugly. "I'm a soldier. I can overcome any obstacle in my way," he said, in a husky voice. "Break through the front…" He grasped the straps with his thick fingers, holding on tight. "And attack."He roughly tore the fabric apart, making a loud tearing sound. You looked at him with your eyes wide, but he was focused on your exposed breasts. It might have been Marcus' hot breath licking them before his tongue or the fact that you'd just nursed the baby, but they were already aroused and fully erect, and a few drops of milk slowly trickled from your nipples.

"May I?" he asked.

You nodded, knowing full well what he was asking.

He pulled your torn tunic down to your waist and buried his face between your breasts.  You felt a pleasant shiver ran down your spine with pleasure as his warm tongue traced the path of the milk and found your nipple. This was a rather different feeling from the previous ones. You weren't sure if it was because your breasts were producing milk now, but it was very beautiful and extremely arousing. He took one nipple in his mouth and you clenched the fabric of his tunic as he sucked gently and then hungrily, enchanted by the taste.

"Marcus!" you gasped.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at you. “Am I hurting you?”

You inhaled, taking a deep breath. “No, you're amazing, it's just I breastfeed Marcius you know and I'm afraid if you suck on me like that..."

He cut you off with a kiss placed on your sternum. "I'll be gentle my love, I promise."

And he picked up where he left off, but more gently, as he promised. As he sucked on one, he rubbed the other nipple, making you moan softly. He licked his lower lip. "This is the best thing I've ever tasted in my whole life."

You laughed and ran your finger through his lips. "What about my wetness?" You asked in a seductive tone.

He stared. "Woman, you're driving me mad. The more I try to be gentle, the more you try my patience." He grunted as he ripped your tunic off and freed you from it. Then he removed his own tunic and grabbed you by the legs, pulling you towards him and sliding you over the silk sheet. Your heart began to beat in your throat. "Let me see how wet you are." He said with a grin.

As you looked at his bare chest, admiring the view, he leaned over you and placed one leg over his shoulder, then the other.

He then buried his head between your legs, his beard and moustache tickling your inner thighs, which was a huge turn on for you. You both realised how much you'd missed this. His warm tongue licked along the seam of your cunt, dipping in between the folds of your labia, expertly but eagerly.

Just as you were about to grab onto his hair tight, directing him to where you needed him, he buried his nose in the pale locks on your mound, letting his lips encircle your pearl. He drags his tongue across it, before sucking softly, and you whine, tangled your fingers in his curls, your head tipping back as the warm ache in your walls sharper, more insistent.

He stopped sucking you long enough to say, "How I've missed the taste of you. It's even better than my memories and my dreams – so much more delicious."

You had to swallow before you could speak. "Have you been dreaming of my taste?" You panted.

"I couldn't think of anything else. Every time I got one of your letters, I found myself thinking about this moment only."

You propped yourself on your elbows and looked at his face through between your legs. "Marcus..." You murmured.

"I didn't write you many letters back, I couldn't. I guess I wanted to show you how I felt instead of writing." He smirked.

You reached out to give him a kiss.

"These words you say are better than a letter."

"Right..." His gaze deepened again. "Now..." He placed his hand between your breasts and pushed you back gently. "Let's continue, shall we?”

"Fine by me," you giggled but it was replaced by a moan as you felt his finger slide inside you.  You gave yourself over to him completely as he played with your most sensitive spots at will. Since his big hands were gripping your hips tight making it impossible to pull away from his touch anyway.

He continued to suck more hungrily this time, taking in delight in the fact how swollen you were getting, your deep moans sounds like music to his ears, simply encouraging him keep going. The pleasure became too much as the relentless movements of his mouth became a slick sounding action and your back arched, your eyes closed tight, your fingertips curling. Soon, your legs were shaking violently, you gripped the sheets so hard you wanted to tear them into pieces and… You are in Elysium.

He felt your release; your warmth coated his mouth and chin. His tongue went inside you and licked up every tasty drop that dripped out. When he had finished, he leaned over, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him, pushing your tongue inside his mouth, tasting yourself.

He then pressed himself against you as he deepened the kiss, using his weight to pin you to the bed.

As the tip of his glorious length brushed against your wet clit, you writhed, feeling like you were about to fly out of your skin. He ran his fingers over your body, enjoying the softness of your skin against his rough, battle-worn fingers. He slowly pushed himself inside you, watching your face as he did so. You were breathing heavily, your hazel eyes wide with excitement and a hint of pain. It was almost as painful as the first time, perhaps because it was your first time after giving birth. Fortunately, Marcus realised this immediately and was determined to give you as much pleasure as possible. And it worked perfectly. His amazing tongue found your nipples again, and as he took you to the heights of bliss, he pushed his throbbing need against your walls. You both moaned with pleasure, digging your fingers into his back and wrapping your legs around his waist, pressing yourself against him, writhing for more.

"Damn," he growled. His hot breath licked your neck. He stroked your legs he thought about the nights he'd spent without you and for a moment he realised he almost regretted leaving you to go to the damn battle.

“Marcus, please, oh gods," you begged, as the sensations became almost painfully overwhelming and your body began to shake.

He pushed the thought aside and began thrusting. He watched your expression and thought maybe he could hurt you, but he didn't. The pain you felt was replaced by pleasure as you clenched down on him every time he entered you. He smiled and feeling blessed when you leaned into him and wrapped your arms around his neck, showering his face and neck with kisses. His desire for you increased double. He wanted to possess you, take you in every way that was humanly possible. He moved inside you, more roughly aware than he had ever been, you responded to him with a loud moan. He held you close, whispering in your ear beautiful and foul things and you giggled in response. He held you close, as if you weren't already close enough. He wrapped his arms around you as he picked up the pace and thrust harder and harder, and you began to bite and nibble on your lower lip as you felt him deeper inside you. His tongue licked your lips, parting them as if he wanted you to scream his name, and you dug your fingers into his flesh and did as he wished; screamed his name over and over. Your breath hit his collarbone, which served him to thrust deeper.

Your climax roars through, and you had trouble keeping your balance. When you thought you might pass out from the pleasure, you felt his smile, pressed into your neck, as his body collapsing into a quivering climax. Your voice was shaky as you moaned his name again, your limbs twitching and shuddering. He follows only a moment later, he cupped your cheeks in his hands, pushing your foreheads together. His brows tense, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth falls open, his breath showering your face all over. You just watched the sweat on his brow, listened to his breathy moans, stroked his shoulders all the way down to his arms. When he opened his eyes again, his hand came up to cover yours, planted a kiss in your palm.

There’s still a long way to go, but this was enough for now.

You both lay snuggled together on the bed for a while till your breathing became regular. Then Marcus got out of bed to retrieve the tray of food and place it on the bed. He then sat cross-legged on the bed. You propped yourself up on your elbow and reached for the tray to pick a few grapes. He reached out before you and picked the grapes and fed them to you. Then he began to eat his own food with great appetite, and you rested your head in your palm and watched him eat, admiring him.

"I see you must be very hungry, given that you left early this morning." You mumbled and placed your hand on his knee.

Marcus nodded as he chewed his morsel. "That's right, my lady. The soldiers who were supposed to be taking Elagabalus to Ostia hadn't returned. I sent some soldiers after them, which kept me a little busy."

You frowned. "I hope everything's alright."

"I hope so too, but that man..." He fed you another grape. "He's as annoying as Caracalla."

"So is Geta, isn't he? You used to find him annoying too, but I guess not anymore. You two are quite like brothers now." You smiled.

Marcus stopped chewing and stared. "I trust him in a weird way, although I do still have some misgivings about certain matters.”

You returned your gaze to the grape on the tray. "I was pretty mad at him for sending you to battle and not going himself as emperor, but turned out it was his cousin who caused it. He's trying to prove himself you know. He hasn't organised any games for a while too."

"That is not the only reason," Marcus said, taking a sip of his wine.

You looked at him. He brushed your cheek with the back of his hand. "I suggested him not to come. I thought it would be better for him to stay, and it was. When the Persian army and other troops realised they'd made a mistake, they hightailed it out of there without looking back. They weren't too keen on the Emperor's presence either."

You raised your eyebrows. "You didn't want him to leave? Ah, I shouted at him in vain then." You twisted your lips, feeling incredibly guilty.

Marcus grinned, shaking his cup. "You shouted at him? I wish I'd been there to see it."

You squinted at him. "Maybe if you'd told me in time I wouldn't have to do this. I'll make it up to him when I see him."

"No, you won't." His tone was sharp, not open to argument.

You squinted at him as he finished his wine. His commanding presence often turned you on. "He's my brother."

"And I'm your husband."

"So?" You gave him a bit of a tease.

He responded to your playful expression with a crooked smile.

"The duty of a wife to obey her husband's wishes and orders."

‘'That doesn't seem entirely fair. Then my husband should obey my wishes and orders too."

Marcus pushed the tray away and crawled towards you, his gaze holding yours with a steady intensity. He touched your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. "Whatever you want from me, whatever you order, I'll do it, just say the word."

You looked at his lips. "Kiss me." You whispered.

He obeyed your order immediately. You smiled as you tasted the wine from his warm tongue, he broke the kiss and you licked his lips as you looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"It's my turn now," he said, and his eyes lit up with desire. "Turn round." He ordered.

When you realised his intentions, your heart began to beat rapidly with excitement and your cheeks were burning. The look on your face amused him.

"Get on your hands and knees," he said, gesturing to the bed with his eyes.

You did as he said, blushing even more at the thought of the view he was seeing. He had taken you in this position many times, yet each time you couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed. "Marcus?"

"Ssshh, relax my love.” He soothed you. “You have no idea how much I've missed this." He finally touched your asscheeks, squeezing your plump buttocks with his hands and your face flamed. You closed your eyes and bit your bottom lip as you felt his hot breath against your back.

He grabbed you roughly by the hips and dug his fingers into your flesh to steady you. He then leaned down and kissed your asscheeks and stroked your folds with his fingers, smiling himself when he felt your wet warmth in his palm and settled behind you. You propped yourself up on your elbows and raised your hips as his ever-present need caressed your folds. Since your walls were too slippery, he easily slid his now throbbing need into your warmth. "Oh," You moaned loudly, he cursed, accompanied by the slick sounds of his groin against your thigh with each thrust. The atmosphere of the room was filled with the pleasure and triumph of being reunited once more. You gripped the sheet tightly and squeezed your eyelids shut, letting out a muffled moan as he reached for your breasts, grabbing them and cupping them possessively. Roughly, he kept slamming into your buttocks again and again, giving you indescribable pleasure with each thrust. He kept up the rhythm, grabbing your hair in his hands and leaning down to kiss your neck, but you had bent forward without realising it. His other hand moved from between your breasts up to your collarbone, gently cupping your slender neck. It was as if he was going to strangle you, which was quite arousing, and he pulled you back towards him. You shuddered with pleasure as your slim back arched against his strong chest. His tongue traced a path from your earlobe down to your neck and shoulder. When you turned your head to look at him, he quickly found your lips and kissed you passionately.

He kept kissing you while pushing into you, and you kept pushing against his crotch. Then he touched your clit with his finger, making your stomach drop and building up until you were gasping, then he kept going and you were moaning loudly into his arm, which was wrapped around you.

After you came, Marcus picked up the pace even more, but not before gripping your hips more firmly, digging his finger into your flesh deeper, almost hurting you in the process.

You could tell he was about to climax by the way he started thrusting erratically, the way his arm muscles tensed and he grasped you so tightly that you were almost breathless, and how he leaned down to suck even bite your neck, burying his face in your hair and groaning loudly with his release.

He continued to thrust as he came, only stopped when he realise you'd thrown your head back against his shoulder to catch your breath. He reluctantly pulled out, his warm liquid running down your thighs and dripping onto the bed sheets. He grabbed the end of the sheet, and you stood still as he wiped your upper legs, thighs planting many kisses on your back before turning round. He cupped your face and turned it to his, reading your expression to see how he'd made you feel. He smiled. He then kissed your reddened cheeks and lips then made you lie back on the bed and lie next to you, his strength and effort spent. You sighed and curled up next to him, and he held you despite how sweaty he had become. He fell asleep after placing your - his princess’- head resting on his chest.

—-

As the morning sun streamed into your room through the window, the birds outside were already up and about, filling the air with their cheerful songs. However what woke you up was that sound you still couldn't believe every time you heard it, the sound of your baby crying. You opened your eyes and tried to sit up, but you found that Marcus's arm was caging you, making it impossible to move. You turned your head to him and noticed that even though his eyes were closed, he still had considerable strength in his arm. He must have been tired, after all the exertion you'd done in the night but still. You smiled to yourself as you remembered those moments. You wanted to snuggle into him and get more sleep, but the baby must have been hungry, so you gently pushed Marcus' arm away and tried to get up, but he stirred in the bed and held you tighter.

“Marcus.”

“Hmm?”

"I really should get up."

He opened his eyes. "Why? Are you alright?" He asked sleepily.

"Can't you hear the noise?"

He frowned and listened. "Oh, right." And he released you and let you get up. "I should have got used to this by now."

You leaned over and gave him a kiss. "I need to feed him." You said and got up to check the floor.

"Looking for this?" Marcus smirked as he held up the piece of your tunic he had torn last night.

Your cheeks are a little flushed. "I suppose I'll have to put on another one."

As you walked over to the closet, he propped himself up on his elbow, examined the bits of food, wine stains and other things scattered on the bed. "We've made quite a mess, haven't we?"

You smiled as you got dressed. “But it was amazing."

Last night came back to you as you were tying the threads on the collar of your tunic. You weren't sure how many times he'd taken you last night, you'd lost count at some point.

“Indeed, it was.”

You were taken aback when you heard his voice just behind you. He embraced you from behind and kissed you on the cheek before you turned round.

"I'll tell them to prepare the bath," he said, wearing his tunic. He then opened the door to call out, Decima heard him and came in with Marcius in her arms who was crying incessantly. Marcus took him carefully. "Are you hungry you little noisy one?"

You smiled as you watched the two of them and walked over to sit on the bed. Marcus placed him in your arms with care. He sat next to you on the bed, watching you intently. You touched your baby's upper lip with the nipple. He opened his mouth wide, then you brought him to the breast, and he started sucking with great appetite.

"I was planning to spend the whole day here with you, but I have to go to the barracks for a few hours in the afternoon."

‘Is everything alright?’

He sighed. "Felix lost two fingers in the battle and is having trouble holding his sword. I need to talk to him and see what might be useful for him."

"I'm sorry about that."

"If he can wield his sword with his left hand, he'll be fine. We'll have to teach him, which will be difficult." He put his hand on your knee. "I want you to learn too."

"Sword? Me?" You frowned. "I've barely got used to the knife."

"You did well, though." He gave a little grin. "Would you like me to get a custom-made sword for you?"

You let out a sigh. "Like you'd back down if I said no. Fine, but I'm sure you'll give up on me at the first lesson."

He stood up and leaned towards you. "Continue to ignore how strong you are but I can see the truth, my lady." He kissed you adoringly on the lips. "I'll be waiting for you in the balneum. Feed our son and come." Then he kissed Marcius' little head tenderly before leaving the room.

—-

After a relaxing bath and getting dressed together, you had a late breakfast in the courtyard. Then Cato arrived at the villa with some news. He was in a bit of a rush. Whatever the news was, Marcus left the villa with him in a hurry. Once they had departed, Norell put the baby to sleep, and you went to see Decima, who you realised had been upset all morning. You found her watering the flowers in the garden, seemingly lost in thought. Upon seeing you, she rose to her feet, giving you a faint smile.

"Decima, is something wrong?"

"It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"Come on now, there's no need to hide it from me, I'm your friend."

She sighed deeply. "Octavius. He wants to marry me."

"Oh, Decima! That's wonderful!" Your smile faded. "But, why are you upset?"

"Because I am a slave." She bowed her head.

She was right, slaves weren't allowed to marry in Rome unless their master freed them.

"Domina!" one of the slaves called out, interrupting you.

You took Decima's hands. "We'll talk about this later. I will tell Marcus all about this when he returns."

She nodded and hugged you.

“My Lady.”

You turned and looked in that direction and saw it was just one of the slaves. "My lady, Emperor Geta has arrived!"

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but you were pleased, and a smile spread across your face as you walked into the courtyard. Geta was sitting on the lectus, adjusting the shawl he'd wrapped around his arm. When he saw you, he stood up and came over to give you a hug.

"How are you, sister?' I've really missed you and my nephew."

"We have missed you too. He's currently asleep, so please have a seat. I'll bring him to you when he wakes up."

Geta sat down, crossed his legs and adjusted his shawl again. "Actually, I don't have much time."

You asked the slaves to fill his cup with wine.

"Have things got complicated in the palace again? With a mother full of intrigue, it would be more surprising if it hadn't." You said, picking up your cup and sitting down opposite him.

"It's been that way since I was born, I can assure you. My mother likes to boss me around and now she's obsessed with getting me wed, which is getting on my nerves."

"I have to be honest, I don't like Julia, but I have to say I agree with her on this one. To be a powerful emperor you must have an heir-"

"I'm not going to marry, sister!" He and you both surprised at how loud his voice had been, but when he looked at you again, his face was soft. "There's still time."

"As you wish."  You said, murmuring. "But think about it."

He gave a little smile. "I'll do it for you." Then he let out a sigh. "I was easier when Caracalla's around. It was his turn. I wish it hadn't ended like this. I do miss our brother, sometimes. I loved him, you know, despite everything he did."

'Was that why you didn't get his face removed from the denarius and the imperial banners? And of course, from the armour of the Praetorians."

Geta grinned, "You wouldn't believe it, but it was to avoid unnecessary expense." He sipped his wine.

"That's really strange coming from you."

"I made a promise, sister. It's one of the things I have to do to look after my people and make Rome a better place."

"I'm proud of you," you said with a smile.

He stared at you with wide eyes and then looked away and sighed. "So..." He put his glass on the table and stood up. "I'm going to walk the streets, see how people are doing, starting with the Poorhouse, though it looks more like an insula now."

"I've heard about the improvements you've made there. I'm glad you did. Those people should be grateful to you."

"More for you, they ask about you every time I visit there."

It's been a while since I've been there.  You suddenly realised it would be a good idea to join him. "Can I come with you?”

His honey-coloured eyes sparkled. "Brilliant idea!" He clapped his hands. "Let's get going then.’" He stood up but you grabbed his arm.

"Wait, I have to put on my stola first," you said, turning towards the stairs.

"Don't keep the Emperor waiting too long!" he shouted after you.

—-

Upon his arrival at the barracks, Marcus was met with an unexpected sight. One of the soldiers who had been sent after Elagabalus had unfortunately sustained a shoulder injury and was resting on the ground. His childhood friend Darius, who had become commander of the Praetorians, was standing next to him. Marcus dismounted his horse and approached him at a brisk pace.

Darius inclined his head respectfully, "General."

Marcus nodded back, his gaze fixed on his injured soldier. He then summoned Octavius to his side. "What happened to him?"

"Sir, he said they were attacked and there was a skirmish. He was hit by an arrow and barely escaped alive.

"Elagabalus?"

Octavius shook his head in the negative.

"Acacius, I would like to speak with you in private."

He looked at Darius. "Follow me." He turned to the others. "You get him to medicus now!”

Octavius and Darius followed him up to his room.

"How did this happen? Any word from the other soldiers?"

"Not yet, sir. There's no sign of them or Elagabalus, and he hasn't boarded the ship."

He frowned and crossed his arms. "Tell them to look everywhere, in every street. If he's hiding, they'll find him."

"My men are already on it," Darius said. "However, that's not what we need to be discussing. I wanted to run this by you before I tell Emperor Geta."

"How do you mean?"

He took a deep breath. "The ones from Leptis Magna, I know you don't trust them because they are loyal to Empress Domna, and neither do I. When you went to war, I had them all followed and we learned something I needed to confirm. It turns out that Elagabalus wasn't just meeting with members of the senate in secret. He's actually a lot more dangerous than we thought."

"What is it you want to confirm? I don't follow."

"He had someone kidnapped that night while we caught them red-handed."

Marcus raised his eyebrows. "Who?"

"A slave girl. I didn't understand why they would kidnap a slave girl until I saw her and the child."

"Did you say a child?"

"Yes, a boy.” He said in a bit of a suggestive way.

Octavius and Marcus exchanged glances, now it all made sense.

"This girl, or… Octavius, didn't you say that time you saw that girl die?"

"Yes, sir, she was badly wounded. The guards took her to the other dead slaves because she was dead."

Darius interjected. "General, I spoke to the girl and she said that you and Lady Aurelia know her and would believe her."

Marcus nodded. "That girl saved Princess Aurelia's life." He felt a shudder as he remembered that time. He was aware of the close relationship between you and that girl. "Take her and the child to Palatine Hill at once, I will accompany you."

"The Emperor is not at the palace right now, Acacius. He wanted to visit the Poorhouse."

Marcus looked at him angrily. "It's not safe for him to be out when Elagabulus is around." He hissed. "You make sure the girl and the child are safe. Octavius and I will take Geta to the palace.”

Darius nodded and left in a hurry.

"Do you really think that child is Geta's?" Octavius asked.

"I think so. Why else would they want to kidnap an ordinary slave girl? Geta needs to know about all this. Help me get my armour on so we can go find him."

Octavius seemed to be dwelling on the word 'ordinary slave girl'. He was lost in thought. He was thinking about his slave girl.

"Octavius! Didn’t you hear me?" His General's loud voice brought him to his senses. "Yes, sir!"

Marcus observed his face as he put his armour on him. "You're distracted. I want to know why."

He tied the strings of his armour. "There's nothing to worry about, sir."

Marcus touched his shoulder, stopping him. "I'm not asking you this as your General, I'm asking as your friend."

"I appreciate it, Acacius. But could we talk later? Geta's situation is more urgent at the moment."

"Later... Very well, then.”

——

The Imperial Carriage came to a halt on a street close to the poorhouse. During your and Geta's walks accompanied by the guards, the people greeted you with great interest and affection. You remembered how it was when you first came to Rome. There were lots of people in the streets who were hungry and looked poor. But now there were hardly any destitute people on the street. You were pleased to see this for yourself. People seemed more hopeful and happy. They were greeting their emperor, who they had previously disliked, with affection. But there was one thing everyone could agree on: they loved their princess and their hero, the general himself, much more. As one of them approached you, the guards were alerted, but he only wanted to give you flowers. You smiled at him as you took the flower, and then you noticed someone in the crowd wearing a cloak. You thought he looked like someone you used to know, but that was impossible. When you looked again, he wasn't there. Probably someone who looked like him, you thought to yourself.

"They look happy, don't they?" Geta's question distracted your thoughts for a moment, but you still had the feeling that you were being watched.

"Yes, they do."

"So, do you think they'll be happier if I get some new games organised at the Colosseum soon?"

"I'm surprised you lasted this long," you said with a laugh, your eyes still roaming the crowd.

"Your husband, Acacius, wasn't keen on organising any post-war victory celebrations or games," he said, pursing his lips. "However, the good news is that our budget is in good shape, so we can finally have our long-overdue celebration and get the games organised. Don't say you won't attend. I'd really like you to be there with me. You know, the seat next to me is yours."

You nodded, looking at his eyes, which seemed a little curious. "I'll be there brother."

As you made your way to the Poorhouse courtyard, the crowd thinned out. "Brother... Acacius said you wanted to go to the war too, but he said that he stopped you."

"Did he?"

"Yes, I'm sorry to accuse you, forgive me."

"I'll only forgive you if you do one thing." He looked at you mischievously.

You rolled your eyes. "No."

"But I haven't told you what I want yet."

You sighed. "Well, what is it?"

He leaned down to your ear, trying hard not to laugh. "One kiss."

You squinted at him. ‘See? I guessed the answer before you asked."

"On the cheek, I mean."

"Still no.”

He laughed again, clearly amused. "Acacius doesn't need to know."

"Oh, you're like a child. Cut it out." You said angrily, picking up the pace. You soon left him behind.

"Forgive me, sister, don't hate me!" He quickened his pace, trying to keep up with you.

Marcus was right, you shouldn't have told him about it. He didn't mean any harm, but he did show a bit too much interest in you, which could easily be misinterpreted from the outside.

As soon as the children saw you, they ran over and gathered around you. They were really happy and called you by name. You smile at them and take a quick look around to see what changes have been made. It had been a while since you'd been here, and now everything looked clean and well-organised. It was now a more liveable place. People, men and women alike, were delighted to see you again. They congratulated you on your baby, and you thanked them. Even their clothes were like ordinary people now, and it made you sad to think of how they used to be. Then you saw a man standing in the corner who looked a bit unwell. It wasn't just him, there were a few others too. While Geta was chatting with the children, you checked on them, examining them as a medicus. Even though they weren't poor anymore, they weren't wealthy enough to afford a medic. Some were working in the fields, some were porters, and some were chronically ill. After examining a few people, another person came to the end of the queue. He was wearing a cloak, and you couldn't see his face. You wrapped the hand of the woman next to him with bandages, and it was his turn. There was no visible sign of any injury. In fact, he seemed quite well built and healthy.

"You don't appear to be unwell or injured. Let me see your face."

He did as you said pushing his hood back. As soon as you saw his face you froze, the bandages and the medicine vial you were holding fell to the ground.

"It's been a long time, Aya."

Your mouth opened slightly in surprise. You were so taken aback that you were momentarily unable to respond. After all, it was him, standing right there, looking at you with his blue eyes, smiling at you as he always did.

You shook your head to regain your composure and looked at his face once more.

“Hanno?"

——--

kudos and comments are appreciated! :)

 

Notes:

Yes, I know you are surprised and you are probably thinking that Lucius came too, yes and no. He is not the Lucius we know as the Roman prince from the movie, I just added him as Hanno, a friend of Aurelia from Egypt. You will see the details in the next chapter, thanks for reading!

Chapter 19: Trouble

Nulla sunt arcana quae tempus non indicat.

There are no secrets that time does not reveal.

                                                                  J.R.

 

"Hanno?" You stammered slightly. It was strange to see him standing before you after such a long time and even more confusing to feel uncertain about how to respond. "Is that really you?"

He smiled, displaying his familiar smile.

"I think so."

That was exactly the sort of response he'd give.

"There he is!"

A man shouted from behind, momentarily distracting you. Hanno narrowed his eyes and swore.

"Get him! Quickly!”

Before you could even think, Hanno grabbed your arm and whispered in your ear, "I'll be at the popina (wine bar) near the gladiator school tomorrow." He took a quick look over your shoulder.

Geta looked alarmed when he saw the men running towards you. "Aurelia! Protect the princess!"

"I have to go now. I'll wait for you there, Aya."

You opened your mouth, but you couldn't say anything; you just watched him running down the street, getting away. The men stormed past you and ran after him, while Geta and the guards came to your side in a hurry.

"My lady! Are you alright?"

Geta grabbed your shoulders. "Did he do something to you?"

You shook your head.

At that moment, the sound of horses neighing echoed around.

"General!" one of the guards called out, looking backwards.

You both looked over there.

Marcus jumped off his horse, eyes narrowed, which made you nervous. He was looking at Geta's hands on your shoulders as he walked quickly towards you, so Geta swiftly removed his hands from your shoulders.

"Acacius, you are very intuitive."

But he did not look at him, his eyes fixed on yours. You smiled at him, though it was weak.

"My lady, I was not aware of your intention to visit here."

His voice was filled with curiosity. He turned his eyes to Geta.

"I have asked her to accompany me here."

You were about to answer yourself when the men who had just chased after Hanno turned around with him, grabbing both arms. Geta stopped them with a raised hand.

They bowed to him.

"Who is this man? How dare you touch the princess? Speak!"

You looked at Geta, getting mad at him for mentioning 'touching thing' in front of Marcus. Just as you expected, he clenched his jaw, tensing up.

“I said speak!”

Hanno didn't answer, he just glared at him menacingly, which made them even more tense.

"Emperor Geta asked you a question!" Marcus snarled.

"He escaped from the gladiator school, Your Majesty. We've been looking all over for him." One of them replied.

"He's from the colonies, your highness. He only speaks his native language." The other one explained.

Your eyes widened as Marcus gripped the handle of his sword.

"He meant no harm," you said, your voice cracking.

"Gladiator?" Geta tilted his head and studied his face. He then looked at them and yelled. "How could you let him escape and roam free on the streets? You useless bastards!"

Hanno looked at Marcus in a slightly odd way; there was a clear sense of tension between them.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" Geta gestured with his hands. "Get him out of here now!"

You placed both hands on Marcus' as he gripped his sword. "I'm alright," you reassured him.

Your touch had the usual calming effect on him. But his expression didn't soften until the men pushed Hanno into the carriage. Hanno gazed at you from within the cage as you watched his departure, and you struggled to keep a straight face while trying to suppress your feelings. Marcus looked at you, examining your face. "Are you certain you're alright?" he asked, knowing you well enough to read your facial expressions correctly.

You smiled and nodded. "I am, really. But I thought you were in the barracks," you said, glancing at Octavius behind him.

"I was..." Marcus said then turned his gaze to Geta. "There is an urgent matter. I need to take you to Palatine Hill."

Geta narrowed his eyes. "Is it about that bastard cousin of mine?”

Marcus glanced at the children gathered around you, and the people looking at you with curious eyes. "I think you'd better see for yourself when you get there. Shall we?"

"I simply hope that one day will pass without incident! Just one!" Geta grumbled as he walked with the guards to the carriage.

Marcus smirked then he turned towards you. "I believe you would like to come with us, my lady."

It wasn't a question or a request, but the way he was acting made you curious.

"I'd like to come with you, General, if that's alright. It's been over a month since I paid my respects to my father anyway."

"As you wish, my princess.” He was usually a bit hesitant about you going there, but not today, apparently. He helped you onto the carriage and winked at you before walking over to his own horse and getting on.

—-

"General Acacius. Commander Darius. What is the meaning of this? Tell me what's happening here at once!”

You were as bewildered as Geta as you took in the scene before you on Palatine Hill. Nerissa, the slave girl you thought was dead, was alive—and she had a baby with her.

"Your cousin Elagabalus was holding this girl captive, Your Majesty," Darius explained. "My men found her and brought her here."

Geta's eyes widened in surprise. "Why would he do that?" he asked loudly.

You sat down next to Nerissa, who looked frightened. Embracing her, you felt her begin to cry. The baby was crying too; it seemed he had been born only a few weeks after your own. As a mother yourself, you could tell that the baby was hungry. “Why don’t you gentlemen talk outside?” 

All three of them looked at you and nodded, except Geta, who frowned instead of nodding.and then all left. The girl then explained to you everything that had happened to her while she was breastfeeding the baby. After Flavius and his men had attacked all the slaves and wounded her, the other guards, the ones under Macrinus captured her. And after Macrinus was executed, they cooperated with the men of Leptis Magna and handed her over to them. And she said that she was already close to labour when Elagabalus found her. Poor girl was so exhausted and weak that she thought she was going to lose the baby. Compared to your chubby Marcius, the baby looked thin, he was two weeks to pass his first month and you couldn't hide that you were a little worried about him. In fact, Nerissa was a noble Greek, not a slave, she had told you her story before. Maybe that's why she was kidnapped. If Macrinus cared about this girl there must be certain reason of her importance. Suddenly the baby started crying again, you checked her breast, she must be low on milk.

"Give him to me," you said, holding out your hands.

"But, my lady…”

"My breast milk is enough for both my Marcius and your baby," you said with a smile.

She returned your smile and placed her baby in your arms. Unlike your chubby Marcius, this baby had silky golden blonde hair on top of his head, just like his father. She thanked you and prayed for you as the baby suckled at your breast. Just as you were about to hand the baby back to her, Julia burst into the room.

“What do you think you're doing?”

You glared at her and handed the baby to her mother, who flinched in fright. You stood up and approached Julia, not liking the way she looked at the girl.

"You get the hell out of here right now and take the child with you!"

She sat up but you stopped her by raising your hand.

"Why would she? After all, she gave birth to a boy, it's Geta's."

"So? The child can't inherit the throne unless Geta weds her."

"I am aware. You must free the girl first, then wed them."

"She's a slave! How dare you think she's worthy of our emperor?"

'You know your son's interest in her. She's a concubina, not an ordinary slave."

"Yet she's not his wife! The Senate wouldn't accept the child as an heir since it wasn't born from legal marriage.”

“That is why I’m saying you must wed them. She’s a captive of war, forced into slavery. Her family is noble, isn't it, Nerissa?"

The girl nodded, looking at her hesitantly. "Yes, my Empress. If we were to send word to my family in Athens, I'm sure they would be able to send you an answer.”

Julia put her hands on her waist, thinking. "You dumb girl. Why didn't you tell me all this time?"

Her cheeks flushed and she bowed her head. "Because I loved Emperor Geta with all my heart. He didn't want me to tell anyone about it, not even his brother Emperor Caracalla."

"All those fights they had... It wasn't just to share your cunt huh?"

"Lady Domna!" You barked.

She approached her, ignoring your glare. "Even if I can convince the Senate, I can't convince Geta. He's really determined not to get married." She looked at you out of the corner of her eye.

"I'll talk to him." You said without looking at her. Then you turned and looked at Nerissa. "Don't concern yourself. No one can get you thrown out of this palace. I'll make sure your family is notified."

"I'll take care of that, you try to convince Geta if you can. But I wonder one thing Aurelia. What's in it for you? What's going on inside that beautiful head of yours I really wonder?’

"Don't confuse me with yourself, Lady Domna. Some favors are given without expecting anything in return.."

She laughed hysterically. "You may deceive others with your gentle and innocent face, but not me. Helping all those poor people and winning the love of the people with this way was a good move. I would never have thought of doing such a sneaky thing. Well done."

"You wouldn't understand even if I told you about it, so I won't tire myself out."

You turned your back on her, leaving the room.

——

As you left Geta's chambers and walked towards the great hall, you noticed Octavius and the other Praetorians standing outside. You could hear Geta's loud voice coming from inside, so you went to talk to Octavius before entering. "I spoke with Decima," you said.

He looked up at you, a bit surprised.

"I will make sure to mention it to the general, so you can feel assured."

"Thank you, my lady. I really appreciate it. But if it's all right with you, I would like to speak with him myself first."

"Of course, Octavius," you replied with a warm smile.

He walked you to the door and the guards opened it for you.

Marcus and Darius looked at you. Geta however, his back was turned, resting his hands on the table. He then turned his head when he heard your footsteps.

"Commander Darius," you said, looking at him. "Would you please give us some privacy?"

"Yes, my lady," he replied, motioning for the other guards to step outside.

Geta poured himself a glass of wine and settled into the lectus behind the long golden-colored curtain.

Marcus grabbed your arm, "Perhaps it’s best if we don’t get involved."

You reassured him by touching his hand. "I just need to speak with him."

He let out a sigh, "I’ll be right here."

You smiled at him, then turned around and walked towards Geta. As you pushed the curtain aside with your hand, you noticed that he had already finished his glass. He turned it upside down and shook it. Quickly, you picked up the decanter from the table and poured more wine into his glass.

“He looks just like you, you know,” you said.

“Oh please!”

“What's the matter with you? Aren't you happy to see her again?”

“I'll die of happiness!” he replied sarcastically. You sat next to him. “You must marry her so the child can be your legal heir.”

He looked at you sternly, a look you had never seen before. “That's not how it works in Rome!”

“I know the truth about her,” you insisted.

“You know nothing, Aurelia!” he barked, then stood up angrily.

Marcus watched the two of you from a distance, clearly feeling nervous, but he waited patiently.

"We need to let her family know about all this. If you wed her quickly-"

"She does not have a family." He interjected emphatically, taking a moment to inhale deeply. "Caracalla had all of them executed."

"What did you just say?" you wailed.

Marcus stepped towards you as soon as he heard your loud voice. Still unable to believe what you had just heard, you didn’t notice him until he touched your back.

“It was before the revolt in Egypt. Her family came to Rome; they wanted to take her because she was the sister of their princess. That was one of the reasons the Greeks supported the revolt, Acacius.”

You looked at Marcus. It might sound a bit strange, but that rebellion actually brought you to him in a really unique way. After a moment of silence, you feel more determined to convince him.

“She must have had family left behind. You need to inform them about the situation. If you marry, it could be possible to establish peace between them and Rome, right? Additionally, if you appoint your son as your legal heir, you will regain their trust and take a step towards improving relations too.”

He folded his arms, “Marrying a Greek? I don’t think the Senate would approve of that.”

‘"Well, you must convince them, right?"

“I shall undertake that responsibility!" Julia's voice echoed through the great hall, filled with joy. "You must wed her, my son."

Geta looked at both you and Julia. "You two agree on that, huh? I’ll be damned." He then turned to Marcus. “What is your perspective, Acacius?”

"I am not a politician, Emperor Geta. However, it is undeniably advantageous for us that the Greeks refrain from participating in any future rebellions against Rome. So I agree with my wife, Lady Aurelia.”

You respected him; despite his modest denial of being a politician, he displayed considerable wisdom.

"I think I owe her that much," Geta murmured.

"We must start preparing for the wedding right away," Julia said with a smile. "But first, I need to invite the wives of the senators and discuss everything with them. They might be upset with me about this." Suddenly, her expression changed as she looked at you. "Aurelia, perhaps they'll be more easily persuaded if you join me. They respect you."

"Being in the same room with those women again? Not for me, Lady Domna," you replied. Julia was about to protest, but Marcus's stern gaze seemed to silence her.

"Then we ask for your permission to take our leave," Marcus said.

Geta nodded. "You may leave."

Marcus extended his arm, and you accepted it as you both departed from the hall. As you made your way out of the courtyard toward his horse, Marcus leaned in, whispering; “Aurelia, what is your intention?”

You met his gaze and lightly touched his face. “I am seeking to protect our son.”

He looked confused as he tried to understand your meaning. You took his hand. “Let us return home to continue our discussion; I miss our son deeply.”

He responded with a smile, gently kissing your hand. “So do I.”

—-

“What you mentioned earlier...” Marcus said as he poured wine into his goblet. “I am curious about what you meant by protecting our son.” Marcius, seemed full, releasing your breast. He made the most beautiful sounds that filled the room with warmth and then drifted off to sleep peacefully.

“I meant to prevent him from being seen as the heir to the throne.” You stood up and gently put Marcius on the small mattress next to your bed. He seemed to fall into a peaceful sleep; at least, you hoped so. Marcus handed you one of the glasses and then moved over to watch him sleep. You took a sip from the glass and began to remove the fancy hairpins from your hair.

"You're afraid he might become emperor..." he said, covering him with the small blanket. "More than anything," you replied as you placed the hairpins into the box. "The weight of such responsibility is immense, Marcus. There will always be those who seek the throne and those who would want to harm him and manipulate him. How can I live with this fear? How can we live?" When you turned your head to look at him, you found him gazing back at you. He stood up and stepped toward you.

"I will be so relieved if Geta gets married as soon as possible," you said, yawning involuntarily. It had been a long and tiring day, first because of Hanno and then Geta.

Marcus's big hand reached behind you, grabbing your hair and sweeping it over your shoulder, leaving your neck exposed. Your tiredness instantly faded, replaced by something else entirely.

"I can't disagree with that." You swallowed as his warm breath licked your neck. And you gasped as his lips found your jugular. You closed your eyes, surrendering yourself to the sanctity of his touch. He wrapped his arms around you, under your arms, and pressed himself against you. One hand slid down, under the fabric of your tunic, touching your folds. You moaned quietly as he stroked your clit with his thick fingers. "Are you ready to be mine, princess?" His tone was so seductive that you would be damned if you did refuse him.

"I am-mmph..."

Your delighted moan was muffled as he mashed his mouth against yours, aggressive and lustful. You shuddered and wrapped your arms around his neck without missing a beat, mewling submissively even as his hands left your clit and moved to your hips instead, grabbing them firmly and sending jolts of excitement up your stomach. He then lifted you up making you laugh unashamedly as his hands squeezing your butt-cheeks beneath fabric even as your lips stayed connected. His tongue prodded your lips and you parted them instantly, letting out a horny whine as it invaded your mouth and dominated yours with embarrassing ease. As if to comply with that he held your ass more firmly, that being the only warning you got before he roughly laid you down on the bed. The little one's cooing made you break the kiss. But when you looked at him he seemed happy in his sleep. You whispered to him as Marcus' impatient fingers quickly grasped the hem of your tunic. “I love this tunic of mine, so please be gentle.”

“With your tunic maybe, but not with you.” He said grinning, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. He leaned down, his lips grazed down your collarbone, breath hot against it, and a moan rolled off of your tongue as he kissed the top of your breast and then sucked upon it harshly. You found yourself afraid that might be hurt but it didn’t.

The thought was purged from your mind though as he swiftly snatching your other nipple up in his mouth. You gasped, your hand ending up in his curly hair and tugging it; utterly melting as you felt his tongue swirl around repeatedly before he gave it a wet-sounding suck, tugging it out until your nipple sprung from his lips and left your breast jiggling a little. His face placed between your breasts a mere second later, growling lustfully as he rubs them and tickled you with his hot breaths. He didn't stay there for long. Planting another few quick kisses upon your flesh then with a rush of eagerness, he undressed himself, his movements fast, impatient. Simply making you aroused more.

Just like he said before, he wasn't gentle when he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you towards him. He had just placed your legs over his shoulders when a soft cooing stopped him. You both looked at each other, remembering that there were three of you in the room now.

“How about we skip this part for now?”

Marcus smiled and kissed your knee. “I'll make it up to you, I promise.”

He leaned down and kissed you; it was passionate, tender, eager, and even a little rushed.

But then, however, there was his erection resting against your stomach, precum dripping onto your flesh. You ran one hand through the precum and along the length. He gasped at the touch, pulling away from the kiss. You met his eyes as you brought him to your entrance. He grinned, baring his teeth.

“Eager I see,” he said in a heated whisper.

With a playful grin, you pressed your finger to his lips and whispered, "Acta non verba, my love.”

Then, with a seductive lean back and spreading your legs, invited him in. He had his need pushed against your clit, along the sensitive skin, through your wetness. You cooed, writhing for him to feel inside you. He gave you one more kiss before shifting slightly to grab the backs of your knees and spread your legs wider than you had them. He pulled out a few inches and pushes back in, easing you into his thrusts before he starts picking up and every time he thrust into you, stretching you, made you crave more and more. Sweat dripping down your brow as he thrust deeper, lifting you by your knees and bending your legs towards your torso. In this position where you couldn’t move very much, he took control, finding sweetest spot with his aching need. You couldn’t stop moaning and mewling, crying out his name as he goes faster.

When your moans became louder, his big hand covered your mouth, silencing you. "Sssh, you'll wake him up, love," he whispered, finding your ear through your hair. "And I don't want our fun to end just yet." You nodded and continued to moan into his palm. He kept covering your mouth with his hand as he carried on thrusting, each one deeper than the last. He was sweating from his brow and the sweat was dripping onto your chest. He wiped the sweat with the back of his hand and pushed his hair back, but it was no avail; it swayed downwards as he leaned down to give you a messy kiss.Then you two drew back, inhaled a breath, and reconnected. Eventually he removed his hand from your mouth, he just wanted to bring you both to the climax, he didn't care about anything else at this point. Effortlessly, he threw your legs over his shoulders and leans forward, bracing his hands on either side of your shoulders and taking you just right. He then reached around to get his fingers on your clit, rubbing relentlessly.

“Marcus” you cried, “Marcus please—”

You can barely heard him over the wet-sound of slamming against your body. “That’s right, my love. Say my name. Come for me.”

All the stimulation gets to you and you obey. You gush on his length to the point where he has to pull out and watch as you make a complete mess of the bed. The rest of your body trembling, hips thrusting on their own, and fingers clawing at sheets. You scream at this point and he has to cover your mouth again, but this time not with his hand, but with his mouth. You moan and whimper into his mouth, hoping that you have not woken the little one up.

"Look at that," he groaned, rubbing your throbbing cunt and you clenched. "Well done, my princess. You’re a good girl.”

Desperate for his need and his orgasm, you pressed your heels against his back. "Inside. Inside me, Marcus, please."

Saying your name, he suddenly plunged back in. You responded with another scream, arching your back and taking every hard thrust. His breath faltered and his moans grew louder. And... You'd just had a second orgasm, but if he kept it up, you'd have a third.

“Wish me to fill this beautiful cunt of yours up…hmm?”

“Yes,” you said between his thrusts, “Yes, my love, fill me in, Gods!”

“I will gladly grant your wish…” He snarled.

Marcus' at his loudest when he came inside you, giving you everything you want and more. As he pushed himself into you, you come again. This time there is no concern or intention to be careful not to make a loud noise. You tightened around him with every thrust, moaning with him and accepting the messy kiss he giving you. It was hard to kiss back when your breath is stolen, when every emotion hits all your nerves and you can’t think straight. He didn’t move once he gives you his last drop. A moment passes where the two of you simply catch your breath. And eventually, as a result of all this noise, the final expected happened and little Marcius began to cry.

You both looked at him, panting, and then back at each other, grinning triumphantly and mischiveously. When you feel the soreness hit, you wiggled your legs and Marcus got the hint. He carefully placed your legs back on the bed. You whimpered as he pulled out, and you could feel the mix of fluid drip out of your cunt. When Marcius started crying louder, you tried to sat up, but your most sensitive parts were throbbing a bit and your legs felt numb.

“Marcus, will you give him to me? I can’t feel my legs.”

He kissed your cheek. “Forgive me. Couldn’t help myself.”

You smiled. “Couldn’t help myself, either.”

He gave you a kiss before getting out of bed and you leaned against the headboard while you watched him tenderly take Marcius in his arms and kiss his head, caressing his little nose with his own. It was something you never got tired of watching, it was so sacred, so beautiful. Before Marcus placed him in your arms, he put a pillow behind your back and kissed the top of your head as you smiled up at him. He was rough when he made love to you, but he always blew your mind with his incredible gentleness and tenderness afterwards.

——

After having breakfast together in the room, you and Marcus visited the stables. You had become quite skilled at grooming lately, and it was incredibly peaceful. However, there was another reason for your visit. While you were absent-mindedly combing Unio's mane, thinking about what Hanno had said. You were having second thoughts about going to the place he mentioned. Would he have to escape again to get there? How had he ended up in Rome? How did he become a gladiator? You were startled by Marcus' touch on your waist. Unio let out a neigh as you accidentally tugged on her mane. To soothe her, you gently touched her nose and gave her a kiss.

"I see you really enjoy that, my lady," Marcus said with a warm smile.

You returned his smile. "I do. It has such a calming effect." You tapped the brush to remove the hair from its bristles.

Marcus let out a light sigh. "Well, I must admit that what I'm about to ask you to do might not be as calming." You raised your eyebrows in curiosity and narrowed your eyes when you spotted the wooden sword in his hand. "But this... it's made of wood..."

"I wouldn't hand you a sharp sword for your first lesson," he said firmly.

You placed the brush in the basket and picked up the sword, clutched it with both hands, examining. It was heavier than it looked. "It feels a bit like a toy," you murmured.

He touched yours with his wooden sword. "Rule number one: Whatever weapon you wield, you must forge an unbreakable bond with it; treat it as part of your arm.”

Your caring husband, Marcus, had quickly transformed into your stern General, Acacius.

"Yes, General," you muttered.

He smirked. "If you master this, you can begin using a real steel sword.” he encouraged you. "Remember, finding balance is essential in your early lessons."

"Balance?"

He nodded. "It's like dancing—using the right steps. Come with me; I'll show you what I mean." He took your hand and led you out of the stables, where he had taught you how to use a knife.

"Aren't you supposed to be on duty today?" you asked.

"I am, but I have time before I take my leave. Come."

When you reached the wide open space, Marcus took the wooden sword from your hand and stood in front of you.

"First, you must improve your agility. Catch it, princess!"

He tossed one of the swords towards you, but you weren't able to catch it, so it fell to the ground. “Whoa!” You bent down to pick it up. “Why did you... "It's not as if I'm planning to attack my enemy by throwing it."

He narrowed his eyes. “I see you’re feeling confident. Alright, what are you going to do with it? How will you use it? Tell me.”

"I should just stick the pointy end into my enemy, right?"

He grinned smugly. “Do you really think it’s that simple, my lady?”

You shrugged. “It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

He opened his arms. “Very well then, strike me.”

With both hands, you gripped the sword tightly. Suddenly, you realized it wasn't as easy as you had thought, but you were determined not to embarrass yourself in front of him. Marcus struggled to hold back his laughter at the expression on your face. Ignoring him, you raised the sword and lunged toward him. As you initiated your attack, he effortlessly pushed your sword away with a flick of his hand, barely moving his arm. You staggered backward, nearly dropping the sword.

"It’s not as easy as it seems, is it? That’s why I’m telling you to focus on your balance first. In time, you’ll understand what I mean, and when I throw it to you, it will be much easier to catch. Now, think of it as a real sword and show me how you hold it. Try again." This seemed simple, but it quickly became clear from the look on his face that I was doing something wrong. “Now you are standing wrong. Turn your body side-face, yes.”

He came over and put one hand on your waist and the other under your chin. "Just, so, yes." Then he looked at your feet. "Spread your legs."

"I can do that," you said, grinning widely, thinking about things you did in your bedroom, like how he spreads your legs in there.

Be ready to be mine...

He kissed your cheeks, where they had blushed, and your naughty thoughts were replaced by a desire.

"Focus, princess."

"Apologies. I was thinking about something..." You batted your eyelashes.

He brought his face closer to yours. "Are you trying to get away from your training by seducing me, hm?"

"Maybe I am." You giggled.

"Well, you succeeded."

He leaned in and kissed you on the lips.You let go of the sword and put your arms around his neck, and the moment you touched his hair, the inevitable thing happened again – he lost it!  He wrapped his arms around your waist, deepening the kiss. You let his tongue enter your mouth, and everything else in the place and the reason you were there flew away, there was only him and your warm breath through your nostrils, caressing each other's cheeks. Your hearts were beating rapidly with excitement. When you heard footsteps approaching, your lips suddenly stopped moving, breaking the kiss. Pulling himself back with some difficulty, he smiled at you, licked his lips, then turned his head in that direction.But you didn't, instead, you ran your eyes over his side view, admiring his gorgeous face.

"General!"It was Cato's voice.You pulled your hands away, but Marcus' hands were still around your waist.

"Cato, is something wrong?”

"I've been informed the Council is meeting today, sir. And Emperor Geta said he'd like to see you there during the session." Then he looked at you. "You too, my lady."

You frowned.

"Thank you Cato, get the carriage ready then."

"There's no need," you said firmly. "I’d better not attend."

Marcus lifted his eyebrows. "Do you have other plans, my lady?"

You looked away. "It’s an official council meeting. I don’t think there’s any need to disturb the Senate members with the presence of a woman. Besides, I planned to visit my cousin Paulina today."

For some reason, your tone sounded so convincing that it even surprised you.

"Is that so? You didn't mention that," Marcus said.

"I was going to..." you lied, feeling a wave of self-hatred wash over you.

Marcus's eyes weren't skeptical as they roamed over your face. "Well, I think it's better that you're there than at the council."

"I agree. Come, let me help you dress appropriately," you replied, grabbing his arm. He smiled, allowing you to pull him inside.

—-

After Marcus left the villa with Cato, you made your decision to meet Hanno. You nursed Marcius and handed him over to Norell, then went up to your chambers to get dressed. It was almost noon by this time. Everyone in the villa believed you were going to visit your cousin, including Decima, who accompanied you in the carriage. However, when the carriage was halfway to its destination, you ordered the driver to take you through the streets of Rome instead. You put on your cloak, ignoring Decima, who looked at you in astonishment.

“I thought we were going to your aunt Antonia’s house?” 

“No, we’re not.” 

She opened her eyes wide. “Are we going to stalk the general again?” 

You glared at her. “No, of course not.” 

“Then where are we going?” 

You tied the laces of your cloak and replied, “Decima, trust me, and don’t ask questions. I promise I’ll tell you everything later. Stop the carriage!” 

The coachman obeyed your command and halted the carriage on the east side of the Colosseum. The gladiator school was on its left, and the popina was at the corner of the street. 

“There are no houses or shops here,” she muttered. 

“I know,” you said, pulling the hood over your face and stepping out of the carriage. Decima stood up as well, but you stopped her. 

“I’ll go alone.” 

“But Aurelia—” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be safe. I won’t be long, and Decima, this is between us, alright?”

She nodded. “Fine, but please be careful.”

“I will be,” you replied with a smile and began walking into the crowd. You weren’t wearing much jewelry; the last thing you wanted was for someone to realize you were their princess.

The street was less crowded than you had expected. Many people were discussing today’s council meeting and moving at a brisk pace toward the Roman Forum. Perhaps most people had gathered there, which would work to your advantage. When a group of passersby glanced your way, you quickly turned your head.

“Did you hear that General Acacius is attending too?” one person said.

“Yes, I wonder if the princess will be there,” another replied.

“We’re going there to see her anyway,” one continued.

“I think she will definitely attend,” another added.

“I’ll finally get to see her up close,” someone else said.

You smiled to yourself. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled quietly.

After passing through a few more people, you looked around. You were now passing the gladiator school, and you shuddered as you remembered how you had last been imprisoned there. Then you thought of Hanno—how did he end up here? It was just one of a thousand questions you wanted to ask him. You quickened your pace, and when you saw the popina’s signboard, your heart began to race with anxiety.

The harmonious music, accompanied by the sounds of laughter and conversation from within, extended into the street, fostering an inviting atmosphere but not for everyone, apparently.

Please don't let anyone recognize me. Please don't let anyone recognize me.

You pushed open the double-leaf door. The people standing nearby turned their heads to see who was coming in, but they couldn't see your face and soon returned to their chat. One person glanced at you with curiosity but quickly looked away. Suddenly, the music stopped, and you froze, but it had nothing to do with your entrance—it was just a coincidence.

Soon, the music began again. You took a deep breath of relief and moved forward, scanning the tables one by one. You noticed a man in a black cloak sitting alone in the corner. You moved there and tilted your head to see his face, but first, you glanced around to ensure no one else was sitting alone. It must have been him. You leaned toward him and whispered, “Hanno?"

You were so startled when the man looked up at you that you jumped back. A bulky man with numerous scars on his face scrutinized you and then raised his eyebrows with a low curse. “Am I high already?” he asked himself.

“Oh, forgive me. I thought you were someone else,” you stammered.

He grinned widely, showing all his teeth. “I’ll be whoever you want me to be, beautiful.”

Just as you were about to turn away, his large hand grabbed your wrist. “Come on, sit down and have a drink with me—just one drink.” He pulled you toward the chair.

Was he drunk? At this time of day?

You struggled to free your arm, but you couldn’t even budge it. “Let go of my arm!”

“Come now, don’t be stubborn. A beauty like you doesn’t come along every day.”

“Look, I’m a married woman, and you wouldn’t even want to know who my husband is.”

He frowned.

“Let her go!”

You turned your head in the direction of the familiar voice. Hanno had pushed the man's arm away. “Damn it, Aldhard, didn’t I tell you not to drink after the opium?”

You crossed your arms. “So you two know each other?”

Hanno rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask.”

The man stood up and looked at both of you. “You little shit. You never told me you had such a beautiful friend. So that’s why you’re always running away, huh?”

“Go back and get some rest. You can’t go out in the arena tomorrow like this.”

The man huffed as he turned to walk away. “That’s why I’m drinking, you bastard.” He left, muttering curses in his native language that you had never heard before.

Hanno turned to you. “Forgive me for being late. But it’s hard to get out of there.”

You sat down in a chair and exhaled deeply. “Hanno, it’s strange to see you here after all this time. Especially as a gladiator.”

He settled into the chair where his friend had just been sitting. “It’s quite the story,” he said, raising his arm to catch the keeper’s attention. “I’m surprised you came, you know.”

“It wasn’t easy,” you replied.

“I guess you came secretly from your husband.” He smiled crookedly.

“I came secretly from everyone. You know why.”

"Yes, I was quite surprised to hear that. I can't believe you're a princess. I always knew you were special, but..."

A little later, a young man brought you a jug of wine and two glasses, along with a platter of chicken for two.

"The chicken here is really good. Come on, eat,” he said, spooning some onto his plate, opening his mouth wide, and starting to eat with appetite.

You reminisced about the meals you had shared together in the tavern back in Egypt.

“Forget about me and tell me about yourself,” you said as you dipped your spoon into the food. “How did you get to Rome? How did you become a gladiator, and where have you been all this time?” You brought the spoon to your mouth, not because you were hungry, but because the smell was enticing, and you wanted to taste it.

He didn’t look at you and continued to eat. “I was brought here by your husband.”

You nearly choked on your morsel, coughed, and sipped your wine. “What did you say?”

“As a prisoner of war.”

“Or did you fight alongside the Persian army against Rome?” Your voice was louder than you intended, causing nearby people to turn their heads. Hanno glared at them, and they quickly looked away.

“Hanno, what happened? Tell me everything.”

His blue eyes clouded, and his expression hardened. “Alright. That night…” He took a deep breath. “I mean, the night the rebels raided the Roman military camp. By the time I got there, they had taken all the Medici from the Valetudinarium.”

“Oh, right. Where were you that night?”

“I heard one of my friends was injured during the revolt, so I decided to go help him. When I entered the room to tell him I was leaving, Vicius mentioned that you were asleep. That turned out to be the last time I saw both you and him." He took a sip of his drink, looking gloomy. "The next day, Vicius' body was brought to the Valetudinarium along with the other Medicii. I personally took care of his funeral, all of his friends were deeply saddened. However, what was even more haunting was what they said. They claimed they saw you among the prisoners. They had killed him, and not only that, but they had also taken you as a prisoner. I was so angry that I ran to the harbor, but I couldn't catch up. The Roman ships had already sailed out to sea, just about to disappear over the horizon."

Your eyes filled with tears as you recalled that night.

"I apologize for not coming here sooner. My mother was sick, and I was occupied with her treatment, but I couldn’t save her. There were also many other patients to care for. Vicious was a skilled medicus; he was irreplaceable."

“Hanno, I'm sorry.”

“Aya, or Aurelia,” he said with a sad grin. “Why did you marry him? How did it happen?”

“Hanno, look…”

He interrupted, “After what happened to Vicius, all I could think about was coming here, finding you, and running away with you. I was certain you would be sold into slavery, and I couldn't sleep at night knowing you might be living a terrible life.”

“I wasn’t, actually. I love him, Hanno. He’s my life now. "We were planning to come here with Vicius, and now you know the specific reason why.”

“So, it turns out you and Vicius had a secret, huh?” He laughed. “All that time you were hiding in the Valetudinarium, trying hard to pass as a man, never going out in public, and his overprotectiveness toward you… I mean, it was obvious there was a reason, but I never expected you to be a Roman princess. I don't know what to say.”

“I found out when I came here, but how did you know I was married to the general?”

“Last week, I saw the two of you at the temple. People are always talking about you two. That day, they made us put on a little fighting demonstration at the Roman Forum. Honestly, I had a hard time recognizing you at first; you looked quite different from before.”

“I’m still the same person.”

“I doubt that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You're different; you've changed. Maybe your experiences have altered you, just like they have for me.”

“Why did you fight with the Roman army? You're not a soldier.”

“They needed a medicus and promised high payment. And you think I can't fight or something? Have you forgotten how many times I saved you from those filthy rats? They kept saying you were a scrawny young man and forced you to fight with them. Don’t you remember how I beat them up, girl?”

You laughed. “Yes, I remember.”

“Fighting against Roman soldiers seemed tempting to me. They said the rebels had joined forces with a small army in Syria organized by a Roman consul.”

“Macrinus?”

“No idea. I've never met him.”

“You can't. He's dead.”

“I bet your husband killed him, great Roman general.” He said mockingly.

You frowned and said, “Please don't talk about him like that. He's the bravest, most honorable man I know, and he's not as bad as you think. He’s also kind and understanding.”

“How touching. He wasn’t so innocent when he slaughtered hundreds on the battlefield, you know. He was like a beast.”

“It’s called war. What did you expect him to do? That’s what you did too—you fought and killed people, didn’t you? Besides, Vicius was killed by one of his soldiers, and he avenged him by killing that soldier in return.”

“But he took you prisoner—made you a slave.”

“He didn’t know who I was.”

Suddenly, he was distracted by the loud laughter of the women at the next table. You both turned your heads to look in that direction. Hanno reached towards you and pulled your hood more in front of your face.

“Don’t stare at them; we’ll get in trouble if they recognize you. And the ones sitting right behind us? They’re Spaniards. Believe me, they hate the Romans as much as I do. So whatever you do, don’t attract their attention.”

You didn't even want to ask why, but it was clear that the men and women were romantically involved, and the Spaniards seemed to be quite fierce characters. Suddenly, you realized that coming here might not have been such a good idea.

“Hanno, who bought you? If I talk to your master, maybe I can persuade him to set you free.”

He laughed. “I’m not a Roman, but I know that’s not how it works here. Tomorrow, I must fight in the Colosseum and win. That will bring me one step closer to my freedom.”

Your chest suddenly tightened. “But the Colosseum is too dangerous.”

“Are you worried about me?” he grinned. “Don’t be. I can take care of myself.”

“I’ll talk to my brother. I don’t know; there must be a way.”

He laughed hysterically. “Your brother? You mean the emperor? It’s not like he’s going to care about me. I don’t suppose you’ve heard the rumors about him.”

“He’s changed. He’s an emperor who cares about his people now.”

“Is he now?”

“Tell me his name. Who bought you?”

“Aya,” he growled.

“Tell me.”

“What will your husband say if you buy me?”

That was the real question. You sighed nervously.

“That’s what I thought.”

He raised his glass to his lips and drank it all.

Then he looked back over your shoulder. “Shit.”

“What the—”

“When I say so, we’ll run outside together, alright?”

“What? Why?”

“They realized I escaped. Again.”

"But why am I running? You're the one they're looking for." 

"It's him! Stop right there!" 

You stood up and looked over. It was the same guys from last time; they knew who you were. You tensed and took a step back, but suddenly you realized someone was touching you on your hips. In a fit of rage, you turned around and hurled his drink in his face.

"Do you think I'm a whore, you filthy bastard?" 

As the man angrily wiped the wine from his face, you immediately regretted what you had done. When he stood up, the others did too.“Jódete, maldita perra (Fuck you, stupid whore)!”

“Watch your mouth, cabrón!” Hano yelled.

Your eyes and mouth widened when the men drew their swords, and you instinctively hid behind Hanno.

"I suppose you have a reason to run now," Hanno whispered to you.

One of the men who had come to take Hanno held up a hand to stop them.

"Return to your table now," he ordered.

“Do not tell me what to do, maricón!”

“What did you say?” He drew his sword.

“He said arsehole to you,” Hanno translated with a grin.

“Damn Spinards, I shall cut your tongue!”

Hanno seized the opportunity amidst the chaos and pushed him onto the other man, causing both of them to collapse to the floor. The impact knocked over a table, spilling drinks and food everywhere and creating quite a mess. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted dramatically, and everyone began to fight with one another. Hanno grabbed your arm and shouted, “Time to run!" He pulled you along as you both fled the scene.

When you got out into the street, you kept running faster, because the other men kept running after you.

“So you can speak spanish!” you shouted as you ran alongside him, your eyes scanning for the carriage.

“Only swear words!” he replied.

“Ugh! I hate you!”

“I’m not the one who spilled his drink all over his face!”

“You're the one swearing at them!”

The guys chasing after you were shouting something in spanish, and it was not hard to guess what they were saying.

“Aren’t you a gladiator? Can’t you fight them off?”

He laughed nervously. “I don’t think you realize how many there are.”

You looked back, and your eyes widened when you saw at least ten people.

“Where the hell did they come from?”

“I warned you about Spaniards! They are overprotective!”

“The carriage is just over there!” You said, pointing east of the Colosseum. “If we can get there-“

“No, not the carriage! They'll catch us before we get on!”

“What are we going to do?”

“I know a safe place; if I hide you there, I can escape them myself.”

When you looked back, they were still running insistently. Desperately, you searched for the carriage, realizing you had no choice but to follow Hanno. Fortunately, you soon reached the place he had mentioned. It was the barn of a house.

“The owner is old and deaf; he doesn’t come to the barn much,” Hanno said as he removed hay bales one by one to create a hiding spot for you. “Come, you’ll be safe here.”

“But for how long? What will you do?”

“I'm going to make them follow me down the road and I'm going to grab a sword from one of them and fight them. After I get them away from here, you run to your carriage, alright?”

You nodded. “Be careful.”

He smiled and looked back as the voices drew closer. "Hide well," he said before leaving the barn. You could hear his footsteps followed by those of his pursuers. You waited patiently until all the sounds faded away. Soon, the only noise was the gentle bleating of the lambs.

Standing up, you began to push the hay bales aside one by one. The smell was almost unbearable; if you were pregnant like before, you would have been violently sick. You brushed the straw out of your hair with your hands. Your legs ached from running, but you knew you had to reach the carriage no matter what.

You slowly stepped into the courtyard of the house, observing your surroundings. Fortunately, no one was in sight, except for the chickens, which, frightened by your presence, scattered away. The street was quiet, with just a few people who looked at you with curiosity, but you were too exhausted to care. After walking a bit further, you realized that you were very close to the street where the carriage was located, so you picked up your pace and walked there with relief.

Decima asked you questions along the way that you struggled to answer, and you responded as simply as possible. However, your real fear was what you would face when you got home—your clothes and everything else were a complete mess. You needed to get home before Marcus arrived. You couldn't help but worry about Hanno. Would he be able to fight those guys off? Would he be able to save himself? You had known him well since childhood, and you shared many memories together that were impossible to forget. No one could have predicted that things would turn out this way; it felt like a cruel twist of fate.

When you arrived at the villa, it was already evening. You and Decima got out of the carriage and walked into the courtyard. As soon as you stepped inside, you froze. Marcus was standing in the center, still wearing his formal white toga. He struggled to drape the shawl over his shoulder, as he didn't often wear this type of toga. However, the stern and confused expression on his face wasn't due to this difficulty; it was because he saw you with your clothes in disarray.

"Leave us alone," he said sharply, his gaze fixed on you. There was no one else around; he had directed that command at Decima. You bit your lip as she left the courtyard, leaving the two of you alone. He stepped towards you, inspecting you from head to toe so quietly that you wondered if he was trying to suppress his anger. Finally, he exhaled a deep, ragged breath, his dark brown eyes boring into yours.

"Where have you been?" he asked in a deep, almost growling voice. "I need an explanation right now."

Chapter 20: Game

Qui nihil faciunt distrahuntur

Those who commit nothing are distracted

 

It was late at night, and the streets of Rome were silent, except for a few lively areas. One of these was the city's busiest popina, which served as a restaurant during the day but transformed into a hub of entertainment by night, similar to a house of pleasure (whore house). It was mostly frequented by foreigners, slaves and plebeians (commoners). In the last few days, the regulars were mostly Spaniards. The atmosphere was filled with music, laughter, and the clinking of wine cups while slightly suggestive sounds echoed in and out of the popina. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, enjoying themselves.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted as a group of Roman soldiers burst in, their clanging of armor echoing through. Typically, soldiers, nobles, and patricians (noblemen) did not visit this place; they were always unwelcome. However, on this night, that tradition seemed to be broken. In reality, though, things were not as they appeared: the soldiers had come for a very different purpose.

Murmurs replaced all voices as everyone watched in astonishment and fear as the soldiers came in one by one, and the music stopped. Soon, someone else came in and walked through the soldiers, making everyone even more tense. This person was none other than the commander of the soldiers, General Acacius himself. Octavius, his second-in-command, pointed to the Spaniards sitting in the corner and whispered something in his ear. Then, at his command, some of the soldiers grabbed the Spaniards one by one by the arm and forced them to move. The women (whores) who accompanied them shouted and were pushed aside by other soldiers.

Acacius looked around and gave the order, "Everyone, leave at once!"

Octavius repeated the order with a loud roar. “Move out! Now!” he bellowed, pushing one of them outside.

Ignoring the grumblings of the Popina keeper and others, they forcibly pushed everyone out. Two soldiers closed the door from the outside and took up guard positions. The Spaniards protested and muttered in their native language. Acacius stood still with his arms folded behind his back while Octavius and the others lined them up and silenced them through punches, hits, and brutal beatings. In the end, they had no choice but to kneel before the general, who observed their faces one by one, his expression stern and solemn.

“Do all of you speak our language?” he inquired.

They exchanged glances, and one of them responded, “Yes, five of us, including myself.”

Acacius squinted at him. "Good. I speak your language, but I'm not very proficient, so don't tire me out. Translate what I say to the others. I need to ensure that you all understand me clearly."

The man looked at his friends and repeated exactly what he had said in their language. Acacius began the speech they were so curious about. “Spaniards,” he said, exhaling deeply. “Since you entered Roman territory, you have committed numerous infractions. Your misdeeds have multiplied to the point where they have become intolerable. Theft, disturbing the public peace, indecent behavior, unauthorized presence in restricted areas, and starting fights.”

The man paused suddenly and turned to his friends again, hesitating as he translated his words, but he conveyed them verbatim.

“Now, you're probably wondering why a Roman general is questioning you, considering that's typically the duty of the praetorians. We're just soldiers, and we’re already quite busy with army training and other duties. Believe me, we don’t have time for your nonsense. In fact, instead of coming here myself..." He touched Octavius's shoulder. "I could have asked Octavius here, my second-in-command, to handle this. But I wanted to deal with it personally because I couldn't sleep last night. You're curious about why, aren't you?"

They looked at each other, quite surprised and curious indeed.

“The reason is,” Acacius clenched his jaw, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “Yesterday, one of you did something..." he greeted his teeth. "...unacceptable. I’m sure you all remember what happened yesterday; I hope your minds are not too hazy.” He noticed the tension in their gazes. “Yes, it looks like you do remember.”

"But, sir, we are not the ones who started the fight!" one of them protested.

"They insulted us!" another added.

"Shut the hell up!" Octavius shouted, slapping one of them.

"Who told you to speak?" Aris hushed the other.

Acacius raised his hand, silencing them once more. "This isn't about a fight. It is about disrespectful behavior towards our princess, Lady Aurelia. The one whom you chased after, remember her?”

They all began muttering at once. Acacius' soldiers quickly silenced them again. "I know you might have recognized her by name without truly knowing who she was. I understand that, but the issue is that she’s not just a princess—she is my wife."

The word "wife" escaped Acacius' lips in such a way that it struck them like a slap in the face. The murmurs gave way to fearful glances and anxious gulps. "Now, whoever touched her, confess now, and the rest of you will be speared. You have my word."

One by one, they bowed their heads and exchanged furtive glances. However, this only increased Acacius's anger; his patience was running out.

“Speak! Or you all will face the same punishment as him! Which one of you touched her? I said, speak!” His loud voice echoed, making them tense.

They still didn't seem keen to speak and wouldn't answer him. Acacius's upper lip curled up in anger and he drew his sword. They all looked at him in horror as the ear-splitting sound of steel rang out. “For the last time, speak, or I'll start with this one..." he said, pointing the sword at the first man in the line, who was shivering in fear. "...And slaughter you all!'

Octavius squinted as he examined each person individually, noting that one of them seemed particularly agitated. “That one looks like he wants to speak, sir.”

Acacius pointed his sword at him. “Was that you?”

The man trembled with fear as the sword pressed against his throat. "No, it wasn't me! It was him! It was him!" He pointed to the man at the end of the line, who shouted back angrily. Suddenly, the noise escalated, and the soldiers, as they had before, silenced everyone. Acacius pressed his sword to the man's neck. “Was it you, then?"

The man glared at him. "Yes, I touched your princess wife; so what? You can't kill us! We were promised safety on Roman soil!"

Acacius grabbed his collar. “Octavius, get everyone else out,” he commanded without looking at him.

The man yelled. “They’re guilty too—”

He shook him angrily. “Killing a man like you is a reward, so I’ve changed my mind,” Acacius hissed. He grabbed his wrist. “This one or the other?” He pulled back his left hand, as if trying to hide it. Then, he grabbed his left wrist. "This one, then." He then stood up. “I will make certain you never touch anyone or anything again.”

Octavius and the others grabbed the man's arm and forced him to extend it forward. The man shouted in panic, realising what was about to happen to him when Acacius raised his sword, aiming his arm. He shouted louder and louder, but nothing could prevent him from losing his limb.

Acacius's sharp sword lunged down in a flash. 

The man's loud voice could be heard clearly from outside as he screamed.

"Wrap his arm and get a medicus so he doesn't die," Acacius said, looking down at the man's severed bloody hand, some blood also splattered on his sandals. The man groaned in pain as Octavius wrapped it tightly. Acacius was about to leave when something stopped him. He turned around and punched the man hard in the face. The man collapsed and groaned even more.

Acacius smiled before leaving the place. "Now I'm relieved.”

—-

26 hours earlier…

"Where have you been?" Marcus asked in a deep, almost growling voice, making you swallow hard. "I need an explanation right now.”

“Marcus... I…" You averted your eyes and bowed your head. What could you say to him? Where could you start? How could you tell him? Exhausted and sore, you raised and lowered your leg involuntarily, nearly collapsing from fatigue.

He approached you and gently lifted your chin with two fingers, urging you to look at him. “What happened to you?” The anger on his face softened into concern, which made you relax a little. However, the question he asked was one of the hardest to answer. After a troubled sigh, he grabbed your wrist with his big hand and led you away—not toward the stairs leading to your chambers, but toward the inner courtyard.

“Where are we going?”

He didn't answer; he just kept pulling you along more insistently. However, when you arrived in front of the balneum, you smiled; a hot bath was exactly what you needed. He pushed the door open and released your arm. "Wait here," he said, still avoiding eye contact as he stepped outside. Pouting, you began to untie the laces of your cloak. You removed it and tossed it onto the floor, pushing it aside. A quiet moan escaped your lips as you sat down to the edge of the marble tub to remove your sandals—the bottoms of your feet were sore.

While you were unlacing them, Marcus returned with the slaves. He glanced at you briefly as they filled the marble tub with hot water, then knelt beside you to help with sandals. Once they finished filling the tub, he ordered the slaves out and closed the door behind them. You watched in admiration as he dripped lavender oil into the water and ran his thick fingers over the surface. The scent of lavender permeated the balneum, definitively establishing a tranquil atmosphere in the steamy surroundings.

"The bath is ready," he murmured in a soft voice. Feeling annoyed that he was more focused on the water than on you, you stood up and undid your belt. You stepped towards him, but he didn’t seem interested in your approach; he remained busy with the oils. You slid the straps of your tunic down, allowing it to fall to the wet floor. You noticed him glancing at your legs out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t turn his head toward you. Instead, he continued to gaze at the water as if it were something very important.

You sighed and slowly settled into the tub, the water rising slightly with your weight. A quiet moan escaped your lips as you experienced the incredible, sudden relief the water provided your body.

"Aren't you going to join me?" you asked him.

"No, this bath is for you. You're the one who smells bad," he said with a weak smile.

You frowned, feeling offended, but he was right. "Apologies," you mumbled.

Marcus dipped a bowl into the water and poured it over your head. He then rubbed your shoulders and face, pouring water on you again to thoroughly cleanse you of all the stable odors and dirt. He worked silently, frowning as he carefully and painstakingly attended to you. He was still quiet as he pulled some straw out of your hair. The only sound echoing in the balneum was that of water, which eventually became torturous. You found yourself nearly begging to hear his voice, longing for him to say something.

“Thank you,” you said, leaning towards him and kissing him softly on the lips. He paused, caught off guard, but didn’t return the kiss; instead, he pulled back. Irritated but determined, you deliberately splashed water on his white tunic. You grasped his arm with both hands as he tried to understand what was happening.

“Please, get in.”

His eyes met yours, his face softening. Finally, he took off his soaked tunic, stood up, and stepped into the tub. He settled on the other side of it, his weight caused the water to overflow the sides of the marble tub, trickling down to the floor. His presence brought more warmth and comfort, which is exactly what you needed.

“Are you happy, princess?” he smirked.

You nodded with a wide smile. “Yes, but I'll be happier if I do this.” Moving through the water, you approached him and placed yourself in his lap. He wrapped his arm around you, as was his habit, but still insisted on not looking at you.

"There was a promise you made to me before..." you said, running your finger along his collarbone. You tilted your head to look at him, curious about his expression. You smiled when you noticed he seemed excited for a moment. He cleared his throat. "I did, but I didn’t say when I would fulfill it," he replied, his voice almost sharp. However, you detected the faintest hint of eagerness in his tone.

“But you promised,” you said, pursing your lips. 

He looked back at you and replied, “So?” 

“You’re not going to keep your promise?”

“Maybe not.” 

You bowed your head, feeling low. 

“How do you feel now? You feel bad, don’t you? You feel cheated, hurt, angry, heartbroken…”

Understanding his implication, you pressed your lips together, feeling ashamed.

"That's exactly how I felt when I saw your cousin Paulina at the Curia Julia this afternoon, after you mentioned that you were going to visit her."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that; I was wrong. Can you forgive me?" You tried to make your tone as sweet as possible.

Marcus's lips twitched, and his expression softened even more. "Only if you start by telling me why you did it."

You nodded; there was no point in hiding it from him any longer. He listened patiently and quietly as you explained about Hanno, but it was clear from his expression that he didn't like some of what he heard.

"You went to one of the most dangerous places in Rome to meet a man? A fighter?” His face hardened again.

"He is my friend, like a brother to me," you murmured.

He narrowed his eyes. "So how did you end up in that mess?"

Now that was a difficult question to answer.

"Tell me the truth," he warned, his voice sharp.

"There was a fight in the popina; we, um... had to run away.” You glanced down.

His hand cupped your chin, and you looked at him with wide eyes, his piercing gaze searching for the truth in yours.

“How did the fight start?” he asked.

You huffed before speaking. “The Spaniards…” You swallowed. “One of them... touched me. I threw wine in his face.”

You continued to explain everything that had happened, but Marcus had already stopped listening after you mentioned the 'touching' part.

"I don’t know what to tell you, Aurelia," he snarled. "Now I have to find that man and destroy him."

Your eyes widened again. "Marcus, it's nothing—"

"Nothing, you think?" he cut you off with a growl. His voice echoed loudly off the damp walls of the balneum, causing you to flinch.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips against his pulsing vein. "I am truly sorry. However, do you really believe it is necessary to make such a big issue out of this?”

"The situation has already escalated on its own," he grunted. "I will handle it.”

You didn’t object anymore; you lacked the courage and didn’t want to argue. Desperately trying to find a way to resolve the situation and soften the atmosphere, you decided to use the simplest tactic you could think of.

“Can you forgive me?” you asked, aiming to appear as innocent and sweet as possible. You edged your hips closer to his inner thighs, as you intended; you could sense him growing. “I’ll do anything to earn your forgiveness. Anything you want.”  This time, your voice was laced with seduction, and you smiled as you felt him get hard beneath your hips.

“Woman,” He growled, almost angry. “You already know what I want.” He was breathing heavily. “Come closer,” he said, his voice husky and intense. With a firm grip, he spread your legs under the water, then grabbed your butt-cheeks and pulled you closer. “I want you to feel my growing lust for you," He teased you by rubbing his hard and thick lust against your entrance. You let out a slight moan, and he snickered. He did the same thing again, teased you even more. Whimpering as a reply, you dragged your hand down his chest to his throbbing erection. You wrapped your hand around him and ran your hand up and down slowly. He let out a deep groan. You positioned yourself over him and sank down on his glorious length. Then you lifted your arms out of the water and wrapped them around his neck, intentionally brushing your breasts against his chest. You knew he couldn't resist the touch of them, and you were right. He wanted nothing more than to pound into you, and touch your breasts with his tongue, but he let you have control for now, allowing you to torture him. You ran your fingers along the way his hair, then clenched your inner muscles around him, and he let out a moan that sounded like a roar and… He was no longer able to control himself; his first reaction was to place his big hand on the back of your neck, pull you to him roughly, kiss you aggressively but passionately, and then thrust hard into you. You groaned together from the feeling of the deep thrust.

He had completely lost control at this point. His anger and resentment had shifted to pure desire. His aim was only to have you roughly. So, he kept going at a faster pace while gazing at your bouncing breasts. He placed his hands behind your back and pulled you closer to him, leaning down and taking one nipple between his lips and rolling his tongue around it. You gasped, but aching for more, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling his head towards you, wanting to feel more touch of his tongue in your sensitive flesh. Soon, his tongue gave way to his mouth, which clamped around your hardened nipple, sending shivers of desire through you.

The sounds that filled the balneum now were the wet sounds his mouth made as he sucked on your nipple, your mewling and the splashing sound as your bodies slammed into each other. His mouth slid slowly to your neck, licking and biting, while his fingers touched your flesh possessively.

"Marcus," you gasped as he moved his fingers around your clit between thrusts, pushing you to the edge. “Please..."

"Please, what, my love?"

“Please let me come.” You begged.

He smirked, stopped stroking you and you groaned in frustration, taking his hand and bringing it back to where you wanted it most. He grabbed your arm and pulled hard, your chin hitting his shoulder. He leaned into your ear, whispered. “Not so fast, princess.” If he was going to wait to be released, so would you. “Anything you want, you said, remember?” He said smugly. "So I want you to be patient."

You were almost angry; your most sensitive spot was aching for his orgasm, however he was determined not to fill you up with his gift just yet. Suddenly, he pulled you off of him, shoving you straight to the other side, causing a large spill of hot water on the floor. Another loud moan escaped from between your lips as he shoved his length into your throbbing cunt once more from behind. He ran his fingers over your hips, positioned you correctly and began to expertly thrust deep inside you.

He repeated and repeated again, each time going deeper, harder than the last, bringing you closer, closer to your climax. One hand grabbed your hair and yanking, pulled you back as you instinctively leaned forward, causing your back to slam hard against his chest.

Was he punishing you?

You rocked against his body faster, and quicker than before. More water spluttering against the floor as your moans fill the steamy air. He cupped your face with one arm, bringing your lips in for another aggressive kiss. He sucked and bit at your bottom lip as you continued to moan against his lips, driving him mad. His thrusts are getting even faster, keeping pace with your grinding and he can feel his release starting to build. As his hot breath licked your ear, you grabbed his arm, which wrapped tightly around you, fingers digging into his flesh desperately.

“Marcus! Oh, gods!” You wailed, he cursed and…

And you couldn’t hold on anymore. Screaming his name over and over, your deepest walls struck with the force of his glorious lust. The pleasure in your heated core finally pierced through the last walls of defense, sending you over the edge; your spine instantly went numb. He held you tighter as he abandoned himself to pleasure and allowed his molten juices to intermingle with yours. Burying his face into your hair, sucking your neck with bruising pressure as bursts of his seeds filled you up, his body convulsed in spasm, straining to send in every last drop deep within. Still panting, you smiled triumphantly and threw your head back, to rest it on his shoulder. He was still inside you, feeling your walls closing tightly around him. He leaned in and your lips met once more.

Without breaking the kiss, he turned you around and pulled out of you. He lifted you in his arms and stood up. Water ran down both your bodies and splashed on the surface, creating a momentary ripple. As he gently set you down and dried you off, his expression softened; the anger had faded, but there was still something different in his eyes. It was as if he was deep in thought about something…

—-

In the morning, Marcius was awake before both of you, as he was every day. The sound of his crying seemed to come from far away since you were still having trouble waking up. The bed shook, and you felt Marcus’s lips on your cheek. “Aurelia…” he whispered, his lips brushing against your nose this time. “Wake up, my love.”

You opened your eyes lazily. “Hm?”

“Our son is hungry. Again.” He chuckled as he got out of bed.

You rubbed your face with your hand, trying to shake off the lingering effects of sleep. Yawning, you sat up in bed, feeling still quite tired. When you looked at him, he was already holding Marcius in his arms, rocking him gently and trying to calm him down. He then approached you and pulled the baby close, and you grabbed Marcius's little foot sticking out of the swaddle and kissed it.

“Are you hungry, my beautiful boy?” you said, looking at him as he sucked his thumb.

“He's getting hungry more often. I think he’ll be a chubby little boy by the time he starts walking,” Marcus said, laughing.

You joined in his laughter. “I guess my milk won’t be enough for him soon.”

Marcus sat down next to you and put his arm around you while Marcius suckled at your breast with eagerness. Since both of your hands were occupied, he gently pushed back the hair that had fallen into your face. You looked at him and smiled; he seemed to be in a better mood than yesterday.

"I see you're not angry at me anymore?"

His brown eyes glowed warmly with the yellowish sunlight filtering into the room; you couldn't take your eyes off them. He gently caressed your cheek with the back of his hand.

"My beautiful Aurelia. My anger at you comes only from my fear of losing you, of seeing you hurt, and of not being able to protect you. You may think I'm angry, but it breaks my heart that you put yourself in danger so easily when I was trying to protect you from everything, everyone, and all dangers."

"Marcus," you murmured.

"If you ever do anything like that again and something happens to you, it would mean that I have failed to protect you as your husband. You can imagine how much that would hurt me, can't you?"

You nodded. "I promise I won't do anything irresponsible like that again."

He sighed. "You better keep your promise, princess." Then he leaned in and kissed you softly. "After all, it's not just for me now; our son needs you too. And our future children will need you as well..." He grinned as he placed his hand on your belly.

You twisted your lips. "Gods above! Not yet, General. I only gave birth less than two months ago."

He snickered, kissed the top of your head and stood up, walking towards the closet. "Would it be so bad if Marcius had a brother?  Or perhaps a sister, or even lots of siblings?”

Your mouth hung open. “You weren't joking about raising an army."

He chuckled. “Never, my lady.”

You gently laid Marcius, who had fallen asleep in your arms, on the bed and stood up. Marcus took a white shawl from the closet, similar to the one he had worn yesterday.

“Are you going to dress formally today too?” you asked.

He placed his clothes on the bed. “The council couldn't reach a decision yet.”

“True. We didn’t talk about it yesterday. What has happened?” you inquired.

Marcus sat on the edge of the bed to put on his sandals. “Since Elagabalus and his collaborators had been punished, it was necessary to appoint new council members and an election was held.”

You knelt beside him and helped tie the laces of his sandals.

"That’s why the wives of the senators were also allowed to join the session afterward. Only you, the princess herself, were absent," he said, leaning toward you with a suggestive look. 

"I missed quite a lot, didn’t I?" you replied. 

Wait. The wives of the senators... All those gossipy women…

Suddenly, you regretted your decision to meet Hanno instead of going to the Curia Julia with Marcus. He kissed your hand after you finished tying it, “Thank you, my princess.”

He took your hands and made you stand up with him. 

You then helped him as he tried to wrap his shawl around his waist. “Will they be there again today?”

“Probably. Or would you like to come with me?”

You placed the shawl over his shoulder and adjusted it before meeting his gaze. “I need to be with my husband. I’m sure they gossiped about me yesterday when I wasn’t there with you. I need to clear this up.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist. “I'm sure you’ll handle it well, my love, but you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. They’ll always find something to gossip about. I don’t want you upset yourself because of them.”

“You’re right. But I’ll come anyway,” you said with a smile as you ran your fingers through his hair, tidying it up.

“As you wish. I’ll tell them to prepare breakfast for us. You should get dressed and join me.”

“Alright, I will.”

He kissed you one last time before leaving the room.

—-

It was noon when the carriage arrived at the Roman Forum and the session was about to start. You looked out of the small window and saw a dense crowd. As your carriage headed the grand stairs of the Curia Julia building, the throng of people began to thin, revealing the elegantly dressed senators and their wives who stood waiting on the steps, engaged in serious discussions. Just then, you spotted Geta stepping out of his imperial carriage. He immediately turned his attention toward your approaching vehicle.

“We kept them waiting, didn’t we?”

Marcus took your hand in both of his. “You are their princess. You can keep them waiting as long as you like.” 

You touched his shoulder with yours. “My dear husband always takes his wife’s side.” 

He sighed. “As long as your husband breathes, he will always be by your side.” 

You smiled and kissed his cheek. 

When the carriage stopped, Marcus stood up and walked out. He then held out his hand to you. “My lady.” 

You took his hand, smiled, and linked your arm with his. You both turned towards them and saw Geta smiling at you. As you made your way to him, you glanced at the other women; your aunt and Paulina were waiting on the steps.

“Aurelia, my sister! You're here!" For the first time, Geta bowed his head instead of embracing you. “Acacius,” He greeted him as well and then turned his attention back to you. “Let’s not keep our consuls waiting any longer, shall we?" He reached out his arm, but you were already holding Marcus’s.

Julia stepped out from behind him and took his arm. "Women are not allowed at this session, Your Majesty," she said arrogantly.

You felt Marcus tense, your fingers grasped the fabric of his shawl to soothe him.

“She’s no ordinary woman,” Geta snapped at his mother. “She’s our princess.” He gestured to you, ignoring Julia’s scowl. “Come on. Keep walking.”

You could hear women murmuring behind you as you stepped inside. You whispered in Marcus's ear. “I'm glad I didn't come yesterday. I don't think I could see her black rain frog face two days in a row.”

Marcus pursed his lips, looking confused. "Did you say 'black rain frog face,' my lady? What kind of animal is that?"

You met his gaze and replied, "It has a face like this..." You then made grumpy facial expressions to mimic it.

He covered his mouth with his hand to stifle his laughter, his shoulders shaking, while you giggled quietly.

As you sat beside Geta during the session, fulfilling his request, Marcus took his place next to you. His presence was a welcome one, even though he was not a consul, but it may have caused a less democratic atmosphere. Your presence too, seemed to please everyone in the same way, both in Geta's favour. Although a minority opposed Geta's marriage to a Greek, the majority voted in agreement, and the wedding date was confirmed. Julia's grumpy expression seemed to soften slightly. Geta was insistent on organizing games, and it was decided that they would be held for three days, as was customary following every victory. In response, Marcus appeared as unenthusiastic as you felt. You overheard a couple of consuls discussing gladiators. One of them had purchased Hanno, but you wondered which consul it was. Even if you managed to find that person by tomorrow, you still had no idea how to prevent Hanno from entering the arena. The thought of discussing it with Marcus made you feel a little nervous, so you let it go for now.

As you descended the stairs with him, you noticed Octavius waiting outside. Marcus excused himself and approached him, making you think it must be something important. While they talked, you turned to your aunt Antonia, who looked worried. She wrapped her arm around you and pulled you away from the other women.

"Is it true, Aurelia? Is Geta getting married? And does he have a son?" she asked.

"Yes, Aunt Antonia, but I don’t understand why you’re worried."

"You’re asking?" she said, her eyes wide with concern. "For your son, of course!" she whispered angrily.

You understood what she meant, but chose to remain silent.

"I’m sure Julia has seen Marcius as a threat from the moment he was born. You know how much danger he is in. Don’t forget why your father sent you away. That arrogant whore is the biggest reason," she added, glancing in Julia's direction.

She was right; the fact that Julia now had a legal heir seemed to keep your Marcius safe, but at the same time, it put him in great danger; it was a very dangerous gamble. You had no doubts about Geta, but you knew how cruel Julia could be, cruel enough to want to have her own son killed…

—-

That evening, Marcus put on his armor and left the villa for the barracks. You were surprised because it was late, but you didn't question him anyway. He often had important matters to attend to, and if there was anything you needed to know, he would have told you. Your trust in him was unshakeable. As you lay on the bed next to Marcius, playing with his little feet and hands, your mind was filled with thoughts of how to protect him. Politics had never interested you, but now you felt compelled to consider it. You had to think of every possibility and do everything to keep Marcius safe; nothing else mattered to you.

Then there was Hanno. The mere thought of seeing him in the arena tomorrow, fighting for his life, made your heart ache. He was a good man who didn’t deserve what had happened to him, but you weren’t sure how to bring it up with Marcus. Every time you mentioned it, he became angry. You decided it was best to wait until the next day. Determined to stay up late for Marcus's return, you fought against your heavy eyelids, but eventually, you succumbed to sleep.

When you opened your eyes in the morning, you felt a strange weight on your body. Looking down, you found Marcus' head resting on your stomach, just below your breasts. His arms were wrapped loosely around you, which meant he must have come in late last night. As you ran your fingers through his hair, you listened to his breathing against your belly.

You glanced over at Marcius, who was making the sweetest sounds in the world, sleeping peacefully in his little bed. You smiled as you noticed his lips twitching into the most beautiful smile you have ever seen. It felt like a blessing to wake up to such a beautiful morning. You wished it could last forever, free from worries, anxieties, and dangers—just the three of you…

You let your finger trace the line of Marcus' eyebrow, moving down to the scar on his cheekbone and then to his lips. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. He exhaled through his nose without opening his eyes. Your fingers are now caressing the lines at the corners of his eyes. Grasping your hand, he pressed a gentle kiss to your palm.

"You don't want to wake up?" you asked softly.

"How could I?" His masculine, sleepy voice was muffled against your soft skin. "I want to savor this moment in my memory as my beloved wife blesses my skin with her gentle touch."

"I see, but what if your wife wishes to see her husband's beautiful eyes? Can't you open them for a moment?"

He immediately opened his eyes, lifted his head, and looked deep into yours. Pouting his lips, he sighed. "My darling, your eyes are so beautiful that everything else pales in comparison."

You smiled coyly. "Marcus..."

"Aurelia..." he murmured softly, stroking your cheek.

He propped himself up on his elbow, leaned toward you, and kissed you on the lips. The kiss quickly deepened into a passionate embrace, as it always did. One of his hands slid down to your knee and then grasped the hem of your tunic. Suddenly, Marcius began to cry, interrupting your romantic moment. He rolled his eyes while you laughed. “That makes two,” he said with a sigh. “I owe you for twice, my lady.”

“I’m really looking forward to it,” you said, giggling.

Then, he got out of bed and approached Marcius. “Who’s awake now?” He took him in his arms and rested his little head on his shoulder. His mouth opened and closed, clearly showing he was very hungry, and he started crying again. Marcus carefully placed him in your arms.

"I'll tell them to get breakfast ready. After that, you can help me get dressed, if you like?"

“Of course. Are you going to wear your red shawl?"

He smiled crookedly. "I need to wear my white armor. Geta wants the Games to highlight his victory."

"The victory you won," you corrected him.

"The Roman Army's, actually. I could not have triumphed alone without their help."

"But you led them as their general, didn’t you?"

He smiled. "Yes, I did, and they protected me."

"I’m grateful to them for bringing you back to me safe and sound."

"So am I." He smiled again and then stepped towards the door. "Come downstairs when you're done.”

——

As the sun rose to its zenith, a moment not seen in the Colosseum for months had finally arrived. Roman citizens, foreigners, slaves, and many others flocked to this colossal structure for one purpose: the Games. After Rome shifted from the rule of two emperors back to a single emperor, internal turmoil was quickly quelled, and traitors faced their fate in this arena for the last time. Since then, no games—apart from horse races and theatrical events—had been held. This is why today's crowd was immense and worthy of the Colosseum itself.

The senators and upper nobility of Rome had acquired new prisoners of war to finance the return of the gladiatorial games and eagerly anticipated the rewards of their efforts. The gladiators would not only fight for their lives but also strive to gain their freedom during these three days. Emperor Geta's near-complete delegation of authority to the council played a significant role in this revival, marking perhaps the first time this had happened since the era of Marcus Aurelius. The people were satisfied, hopeful, and in a better position than before, but the extent of the benefits to the Senate remains a mystery for now. When the trumpets sounded in the Colosseum, the spectators jumped to their feet with excitement. When Emperor Geta's name was announced, they applauded and shouted in his honor.

“Caesar! Caesar! Caesar! Caesar! Caesar!”

Geta greeted them with both hands raised and waved. Following him, Julia was announced, and once again, applause echoed as she greeted them with a wave of her hand.

You were right behind Marcus, and your steps were hesitant, reflecting the tension inside you. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, offering his support as always. His godlike presence in his white armor was the only thing distracting you from your worries; he looked breathtaking. Dressed in white and gold to complement his outfit and with fancy jewelry, you instantly became the center of attention as soon as you stepped inside. When the announcer spoke again, he referred to Rome's most recent victory and announced Marcus' name.

“General Marcus Justus Acacius, commander of the Roman legions!”

You marched forward together as the crowd and the members of the Senate applauded once more, and then they announced your name: "And our most honorable Princess Septimia Aurelia Marciana!"

Geta smiled as he turned towards you and joined in the applause. Marcus gently pushed you forward, his hand on your waist, encouraging you to wave to them. Geta took your hand and pulled you to his side, and the crowd chanted your name while waving enthusiastically at you. As you waved, you noticed the seating arrangement. His seat was larger and wider than the others, flanked by two golden chairs on either side. This new arrangement surprised you.

Julia was sitting next to Geta, with you on her right and Marcus beside you. The seat at the far end was empty. You leaned towards Geta and asked, "Nerissa didn't come?"

Geta's smile faded. "No, she's not my wife yet. Why should she?"

“I see there is an empty seat over there."

"That seat is not for her, silly."

Marcus looked at the two of you curiously.

"For who, then?" you inquired.

Geta looked at you sincerely and replied, "For Marcius, of course. When he grows up, he will watch the games here with his uncle.”

He winked at your surprised face and turned his head in the direction of the announcer as he began to announce the topic of the games. However, you found yourself deeply affected by Geta's behavior. Sometimes, he could be a really nice person. Marcus smiled when you glanced at him; he had overheard your conversation. Suddenly, the sound of drums and horns filled the air, drawing your attention. One of the doors swung open with a thud, releasing a puff of dust as the announcer proclaimed, "From the stables, the fighters of Consul Albanus!"

As you looked at the warriors one by one, your heart nearly stopped when you spotted Hanno. Marcus noticed you tensing up and grabbed your hand. You looked at him, “Consul Albanus, he said.”

A look of disgust crossed Marcus's face as he nodded. "Yes, he did.”

As you watched the fighters step into the arena once again, your attention was drawn to Hanno, and you felt desperate. Albanus—Marcus’ former wife Tacita’s husband—was the one who had purchased Hanno. Did it really have to be him? This situation was only going to make things worse.

“And here they are, the gladiators of Emperor Geta himself!”

The gladiators emerged through the dust and smoke, greeted by the frenzied cheers of the crowd. They approached the tribune where you were sitting and offered their respects to Geta. He waved his hands at them, smiling broadly, then turned his head toward you. “They have trained very hard,” he said. “The fighters are in for a tough fight; they have their work cut out for them.”

You tried to return his grin, but you failed.  Soon, the fight began. The gladiators looked eager and fully equipped in their armor, shields, and galeas; they appeared invincible. However, Hanno and his friends were faster and more motivated. Your heart began to race; the last time you felt this nervous was when you watched Marcus fight.

After a brief struggle, one of the gladiators lunged at Hanno's confident friend with a spear and killed him. Geta's cry of joy only heightened your anxiety. Hanno and his companions fought valiantly but were soon reduced to just three, and the score was evened. A gladiator swung his sword at Hanno, who held his breath but narrowly avoided the blow. Seizing the opportunity, Hanno pushed the gladiator off balance with a kick to the thigh, knocking him to the ground.

The gladiator dropped his galea, and Hanno took advantage of the moment, cutting a deep gash in the man's arm. The gladiator screamed in pain but quickly picked up his sword and stood back up. They regrouped and attacked, shouting as they charged forward.

Hanno's burly friend—whom you would soon recognize as the man you met in the popina the day before—appeared more enthusiastic and motivated than the others. Hanno, while relaxed, was also ready for action. Together, they attacked the wounded gladiator and succeeded in killing him. Geta whimpered and pursed his lips in distress. The fighters were performing well; they seemed to be more motivated after losing their comrades. As you watched him from a distance, memories flooded back to you. If someone had told you that one day you would see Hanno here, you would never have believed it. Soon, the number of gladiators was reduced to two. While one was fighting, the other faced Hanno. One of them swung his sword at Hanno, cutting his exposed leg. He was forced to kneel, placing his hands on the ground, disarmed. You jumped to your feet. The sound of metal clashing and the crowd noise became a hum, but Marcus's hand on your back brought you back to reality.

Geta stood up as well. “Isn't that the gladiator we saw that day?” All three of you were now on your feet. “He fought well.”

Soon, the crowd began to murmur and shout, “Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!”

Geta frowned. “I’m not sure he deserves mercy.” He turned to you. “What do you say, Aurelia?”

“Mercy!” you wailed as you grabbed Geta's arm. Everyone nearby looked at you in surprise. Taking a deep breath, and releasing his arm, “Please, mercy, Your Majesty.” You said, voice trembling. Geta looked confused and exchanged glances with Marcus before extending his arm. You felt relieved when he turned his thumb upwards.

“The gods have spared your life!” Geta shouted smugly toward the him but Hanno ignored him, looked up at you. “I am grateful, my princess!”

There was a brief moment of silence before the crowd erupted, shouting your name, admiring you. Julia leaned into Geta's ear, and his expression made it clear that he disapproved of what she had just said.

"Go on then! Fight!" Geta then shouted, settling down and gesturing for you to do the same. Marcus put his hand on your knee.

"Don't worry, he'll win."

You looked at him, raising your eyebrows. "How do you know?"

He grinned at the expression on your face. "Trust my military and warrior experience," he said, gently touching your cheek in an attempt to calm you down.

But he was right; soon, Hanno and the others had defeated their remaining opponents.

You let out a sigh of relief as you stood up and began to applaud. 

“Remarkable!” Geta exclaimed, continuing to clap with joy. "Well done!"

Your eyes locked on Hanno as you clapped. The red liquid seeping from his calf down to his foot glistened in the sun, almost as brightly as the steel of his sword. Fortunately, the injury was treatable, as he was a well-skilled medicus.

The first day of the Games had come to an end, and the crowd was leaving the Colosseum, buzzing with excitement for tomorrow already. Geta approached you alongside Julia, and they discussed plans for the next day as you made your way down the steps. Just then, the consul Albanus and his wife approached. Geta greeted him with a wide smile. 

“Albanus! You are a genius! Your fighters were quite well!” 

“I’m glad you’re amused, Your Majesty,” Albanus replied, extremely happy.

"I am amused indeed!"

They kept talking about the fight and stepped towards their carriage. Julia avoided eye contact with Tacita which made you surprised.

Marcus leaned close to your ear, “Let’s head to the carriage.”

You nodded, and had just turned around when Tacita called out to you. You never wanted to engage in a conversation with her, and neither did Marcus, but you didn’t want to be rude in public. You turned to face her.

“Lady Aurelia, may I speak to you alone for a moment?”

“No, you can’t,” Marcus cut her off firmly.

You touched Marcus’s shoulder, aware that everyone around you was watching. “It’s alright, my love,” you said reassuringly.

“Calm down, Acacius. I’m not going to eat her or something.” She rolled her eyes and confidently took your arm. While you felt a bit uneasy with her touch, you opted to remain silent. Nonetheless, you found yourself curious about what she was about to say.

“He's very protective of you,” she said with a somewhat strange grin. 

“Whatever you have to say, please say it now.” 

“Alright. I want to make a deal.” 

“What deal?” 

“I have something you want, don’t I?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“The slave my husband bought—Hanno, that fighter. Isn’t he valuable to you?” She smiled smugly. 

You swallowed. “How do you know that—” 

“I saw you and him holding hands in the streets, Aurelia, running from those men.”

"Did you? Well whatever you imply, it is not like you think."

“I do not care about your relationship. Tell me, do you want him or not?”

“You want something in return.”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“I can't tell you here. Come to my villa tonight. But don’t mention anything to Acacius.”

You squinted at her. “No, I won’t. I’m not interested in what you have to say either.” With that, you turned around.

“He could die there tomorrow, but worse, he could die before he even steps into the arena. Maybe someone could poison him tonight who knows?”

You looked back at her. Was she actually willing to put his fighter at risk? Why would she do that? Wasn’t this woman friends with Julia? Why had she waited until Julia left to talk to you? Whatever she was going to say had to be related to all of this. You decided to act naive, you needed to figure out her true intentions.

“I tell everything to my husband. It’s not possible for me to visit your house secretly.”

She crossed her arms. “Hmm, but he keeps secrets from you. Ironic, isn’t it?”

You sighed angrily. “What exactly—”

“Your mother. Did he tell you who killed her or how she died?”

You froze. You knew your mother had died from a disease, but was she implying there was more to it?

“That’s what I thought. Are you sure you’re still not interested in my offer?”

--

Chapter 21: Retaliation

"Audentes Fortuna Iuvat"

Fortune favours the brave...

Virgil.

 

“Aya?”

You heard someone calling your name but only realized he was next to you when you noticed his shadow falling over you.

“My dear, why have you come here again?" Vicius asked as he sat down beside you, knowing where your gaze was directed. He sighed and gently caressed your head. You often visited the banks of the Nile, believing that your parents had left you there. From a distance, you would sit and observe other parents with their children. Each time, you pondered questions about yours.

“Uncle, why did they leave me? Doesn’t my mother miss me at all? What about my father? Why don’t they come looking for me?” You pointed to a mother and her child ahead. “Look how worried that boy’s mom seems to be because he came to the river without her knowing.”

Vicius always tried to give you positive answers, even when your questions tormented him. “One day,” he always promised, “One day we’ll find them, I promise.”

Remembering those days, you wondered how he could have known the truth and kept it from you for twenty years. It must have been incredibly difficult for him, tormented by questions he didn't know how to answer. Yet through it all, you held on to hope, always hoping that one day you would discover the truth about your mother and father so that you could ask them that very question. But when you finally learned who they were, the pain of realizing they were no longer alive was overshadowed by the heartache of understanding why you were sent away.

Despite all the tragedy, there was a glimmer of hope: the person with whom you built the family you always longed for. Life may not have been fair to you, but it blessed you with Marcus. He is your love, your husband, your breath, your best friend, your soul, your guiding light, your family—your everything. With his heart and love, you needed nothing else. You loved him deeply, and his love filled your heart so completely that you hardly felt the absence of your parents. However, you couldn't stop thinking of what that woman had said about your mother's death…

“Aurelia?”

Marcus’ soft, deep, masculine voice caressed your ears and scattered your thoughts like dust. Suddenly, you snapped back to reality, taking a moment to remember what you were doing. Your hands were touching the strings of his white armor. Ah, yes, you were back in your chambers, helping him remove his ceremonial attire.

You looked up and met his worried gaze. "I called out to you twice," he said, concern evident in his voice.

"Did you? My apologies, I..." You quickly untied the laces. He removed his armour and set it aside. Turning to you, he took your hands and sat you down on the bed beside him. "She said something to upset you, didn't she? Tell me what it was.”

You looked at him, tears in your eyes from the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. He frowned, pulled his hands away and stood up in frustration. Surprised, you watched him, noting how his anger seemed to deepen as a tear rolled down your cheek.

"Tell me, or I'll go ask her, and I'll do it in a very unpleasant way." His voice was low, probably to avoid waking Marcius, but it carried an unmistakable threat, though not to you. You grabbed his arm and urged him to sit back down on the bed.

“Marcus, please calm yourself and sit," you said with a pleading tone.

He obeyed, though his expression remained stern as he wiped away your tears with his thumb.

He silently vowed to himself that he would make that woman who caused your tears to pay for the pain she inflicted on you, which tormented him to witness. But first, he wanted to listen to you; perhaps you could give a reason for him to end her once and for all. His dark thoughts only surfaced when he saw you cry.

You took his hand in both of yours and looked deep into his brown eyes. “I’m going to ask you something first, and I want you to tell me the truth.”

He nodded. “My beloved wife, when have I ever lied to you?” 

“That’s true, you haven’t.” You sighed. “However, there’s an issue… My mother… How did she die? I thought she passed away from an illness, but that woman claimed otherwise, and you knew it. Is that true?”

Marcus's expression changed instantly; he pulled his hands back and averted his eyes. "That wretched woman!" he snarled.

You touched his shoulder. “Is she telling the truth?” 

He balled one hand into a fist and nervously opened and closed it as he looked at you. “Can’t you just pretend you never heard that?” His voice was almost pleading. 

“Marcus, what are you saying? She told me you were hiding this from me, and you want me to pretend I never heard it? So she was right? Why did you do that? Why did you hide it?” 

He stood up, pulled out a chair, placed it opposite you, and sat down. Leaning forward, he took your hands in his, looking at you under his eyebrows. “I did hide it, that’s true. Because if you find out the truth, it will only hurt you. How can I let that happen?” 

“I still need to know. Please. She’s my mother; I want to know everything.”

He closed his eyes tightly and nodded. "As you wish." Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I was a young soldier in General Maximus’ Legion; I've mentioned this before. After his and Commodus's death, your father, Septimius Severus, declared himself emperor, the threat from the north diminished and shifted south. My father held a high position in the Senate when he forced me to marry to change my outlook on things. I endeavored to take command of the legions in the south, and when I came home, I would hear my father talking to the other consuls. Your father Severus trusted him very much. They worked hard to hide your mother's illness from the people. They claimed the source of her illness was mundane, but in reality your mother... seemed to have lost her mind. I've been told that this can happen to some women soon after childbirth, but I don't know much about it."

"Perinatal melancholia (postpartum depression)..." you murmured. "But Marcus, this isn't something that can't be cured. Wasn't my Uncle Vicius the court medicus? Couldn't he have helped my mother too? Why hasn't anyone done anything for their empress? Why didn't my father care about my mother?"

Marcus’s expression seemed troubled. "That’s where the problem begins. Your mother was still alive when your father brought Julia to the palace. They claimed that Empress Marciana's mental health warranted a legal annulment of their marriage, so the council convened to discuss your father's marriage to Julia. The council met, but they could not dissolve the marriage because your mother was still alive." He lowered his gaze. "My father was one of those who voted for the annulment," he admitted.

You reached out, lifting his chin with your hand so he would meet your eyes. "There is no need for you to feel any guilt about this, my love.”

He smiled weakly.

“However, you still haven't told me how my mother died.” Marcus's smile faded. “The medicine she was taking to get better... She was supposed to take very little, but she took it all at once.”

You felt your heart shatter into pieces. “Who prepared the medicine? Was it Vicius?” Your voice cracked.

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. “As Vicius's medicine could not cure her, she began taking the medicine that another medicus had made, which Julia had recommended.”

Suddenly, your body was filled with rage. Marcus gripped your trembling hands tightly.

“Aurelia, my love, are you-?”

“She did it. She killed my mother, didn’t she?” Your voice was louder than you meant it to be, which caused Marcius to fidget in his sleep.

Marcus rubbed your shoulders, trying to calm you down. “Maybe, but no one can be sure of that. After all, your mother…”

“She’d lost her mind, and that made her an easy obstacle to get out of the way, didn’t it? That’s what happened, I’m sure of it.”

“That’s what I think, too.”

You pulled your hands away from his and stood up. “If she hadn’t had a hand in it, she would have told me about my mother to annoy me. She would have said things about her being mad and tried to upset me. But she didn’t do any of that.”

"She would lose Geta then," he said coldly. “She knows how much he cares about you. The moment Geta discovers all this, she will lose him. She is very aware of that."

It was evident how difficult it was for him to say that, particularly the tone when he mentioned ‘how much he cares about you.’

You crossed your arms. "That's why she offered to make a deal using Hanno then. She wants me to confront Julia. She must believe that Geta will discover the truth in that way, which would create a rift between them. And they say that a dog doesn't eat dog," you muttered.

"What did you say?" Marcus jumped to his feet, you could see how angry he was without even looking at him. “Did she threaten you about him?”

“Marcus, please calm down."

He couldn't, instead, he grabbed both of your hands and knelt before you. That was something you didn't expect him to do.

"Your Highness, my princess, I ask you to command me. I shall destroy her.”

You smiled, flattered by his behavior. "Marcus, please rise, my love. Don’t forget she is the wife of a member of the Senate. There must be another way."

He obey, rising to his feet, though his expression remained firm. "Damn the senate! I would destroy all of Rome to see a smile on your face. No one could threaten my wife, my princess, the light of my life. I will take the life of anyone who does." His booming voice was serious and you knew he would.

Marcius reacted to his father's voice by softly crying as he woke up. You gently touched Marcus's face. “I know, my love, I know, but if we act wisely, you won’t have to.” You moved towards Marcius and lifted him into your arms. Marcus seemed confused when you looked at him. “Besides, they’re not even worth you tiring yourself out.”

"What do you mean by 'act wisely'? Could you be more specific for your soldier husband, my clever wife?" he asked with a playful smile as he helped you sit on the bed, placing a pillow behind you to make you more comfortable, just as he always did before breastfeeding.

"I hope I am."

“You surely are. However, I wonder what’s on your mind,” he said as he sat down beside you.

You leaned down to breathe in Marcius’s sweet scent, then looked back at Marcus. “We will pay her back in her own coin.”

“How?” he asked.

“Why don’t we talk while we eat? It’s going to be a long night.”

He nodded. “If you say so.”

—-

Tacita's house was slightly further from the city center than your villa, about a half-hour's journey by carriage. The sun had already set, and the moon had made its appearance, but clouds passing in front of it occasionally obscured its light. Decima accompanied you. Sensing your unease all the way, she smiled to comfort you as she helped you out of the carriage. The slaves opened the door for you, and you took a deep breath as you stepped into the courtyard of the house. The first thing that caught your eye was the fountain on the right. It was very quiet inside, which made the gentle flow of water from the open mouth of the Neptune statue in the center of the fountain echo in the dimly lit courtyard. Soon, the domina of the house came out to greet you, a smug look on her face.

You ignored her and looked around. ‘Smile for now; I'll be the one smiling at the end of the night,’ you thought.

“My lady, you're here. Honestly, I’m surprised; I thought you might have given up at the last minute.” She cast a furtive glance at Decima, who was standing beside you. “I imagine Acacius doesn’t know you’re here.”

You rolled your eyes. From that moment on, you had to control your emotions and reactions so you couldn’t let her suspect anything. You forced a smile. “Are we going to talk here? Won’t you invite me in, Lady Tacita?”

“Oh, of course, forgive me. Please come this way.”

She led you to the inner courtyard, where a small table was located in the corner. Decima pulled a chair for you to sit in. You sat down and crossed your legs, adjusting your stola while trying to suppress your tension and anger. Tacita ordered the slaves to bring you wine and then sat opposite you, beginning to recount all the facts you already knew—the truths that Marcus had shared with you.

—-

As two horsemen approached the iron gates at the rear entrance of the Colosseum, the guards took a cautious stance. However, when Marcus and Octavius dismounted from their horses, the guards recognized them and stood at attention.

"General, Sir Octavius," they greeted.

"Allow us to pass," Marcus commanded.

Without hesitation, the guards opened the gate for them.

"Isn't it strange to be back here again?" Octavius remarked. "It reminds me of the brothers we lost here last time. I will never forget what Caracalla did, what he accused you of, and how we were brought here and forced to fight. Those were difficult times.”

“No one who comes here does so voluntarily, Octavius. Everyone within these walls is forced to fight in some way. We are the fortunate ones. Although we have lost our brothers, they were glorified in death, and their honor and strength continue to live on as their legacy with us. Remember what Commander Maximus always said.”

Octavius nodded. “What we do in life, echoes in eternity.”

“Indeed.”

They both placed their hands over their chests and paid their respects to their former commander as they walked past his grave.

Upon arriving at the quarters, they were greeted by guards and gladiator trainers. It was not every day that the Roman general visited, and their surprise was evident.

A burly man who appeared to be in charge stepped forward. "General, what brings you here, sir?"

Marcus glanced towards the cells ahead. "I wish to speak to one of Consul Albanus' fighters."

The man's eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Which one, sir?"

"His name is Hanno."

He seemed to feel a wave of distress. "Well, he’s injured; he may not be able to walk here."

"Take me to him, then," Marcus insisted.

The man nodded. "Sure."

They followed him as he led the way. As they passed the cells, some fighters and gladiators stood up, looking at them with curiosity and whispering amongst themselves. Marcus ignored them, his focus unwavering as he glared at a few of them, while Octavius trailed behind.

The man stopped in front of one of the cells, took a key from the ring on his belt, and unlocked the door. He then gestured for Marcus to enter. As Marcus stepped inside, he saw Hanno lying on a mattress in the corner. He sat up and looked at him in surprise. Octavius turned to the man and said, “I’ll take it from here. Give me the keys and leave us alone.”

The man looked like he was going to protest, but he did as he was told and walked away.

“Great Roman General, is it truly you, or have I indulged in too much opium?” Hanno muttered, preparing to rise, but Marcus spotted the bandage on his leg and raised a hand to stop him.

“Why would you possibly hallucinate about me, fighter?” Marcus teased.

Hanno laughed. “That’s right, I wouldn’t. I’m intrigued by your presence here though. If Aurelia—”

“How dare you utter her name in a place like this?” Marcus cut him off.

Hanno tilted his head to the side, a mocking expression on his face. “My mistake…”

“Is it true that you’re a medicus?” he asked.

“If it weren't true, the wound on my calf would be in very bad shape right now,” he replied.

Marcus crossed his arms. “You’re ambitious, results-oriented, and hasty,” he muttered. “Surprising your opponent might seem smart, but you need to use your hasty demeanor to plan your next move carefully.”

“Are you lecturing me on fighting now?” 

“Let’s call it advice.” 

“A Roman general came here tonight to give advice to an ordinary fighter?” 

Marcus smirked. “I’m here to save your life.” 

Hanno sat up again. "That's funny. You wanted to kill me a few months ago."

“What can I say? Fate has a twisted sense of humor.” 

“I can agree with you on that one.”

“Come on, get up. We don’t have much time,” he urged, gesturing for him to rise.

Hanno got to his feet but immediately felt a sharp pain from his wound. “Shit,” he muttered.

Marcus looked at him. “Can you walk?”

Hanno grinned. “Why? Are you gonna carry me on your lap or something?”

Marcus glanced at Octavius. “He’s too much of a joker for a fighter, is he not?”

“Indeed, but I believe he has a very poor sense of humor, sir,” Octavius replied.

Hanno smirked in response. Once they were out of the cells, Octavius returned the key to the man from whom he had taken it. The man looked at them with wide eyes.

“But sir, he’s a fighter belonging to Consul Albanus. You can’t take him—”

Marcus shot him a sharp look, and the man fell silent. “I will tell him myself.”

A few voices called out to Hanno from the cell, and murmurs echoed in the corridor.

“Shut the hell up!” the man shouted at them.

Hanno raised his hand to calm them down, and all but one fell silent.

“Where are you taking him?” he asked, then muttered something in his native tongue, likely a swear word.

“Come on, move!” Octavius urged, pushing Hanno forward. Marcus glanced at the grumbling man for a moment before following after them.

“He hates you very much,” Hanno said with a grin. “Aldarf,” he added, looking at Marcus. “He said you killed his best friend in the arena.”

“I killed countless men there,” Marcus replied coldly, not interested in what he was talking about.

"But you fought this gladiator twice. Is it true you spared him the first time?"

Marcus stopped suddenly. "The gladiator of Macrinus..."

Octavius grabbed his arm and shook it. "He deserved worse than death, that bastard," he hissed.

"I was wrong not to kill him the first time," Marcus said, gesturing for them to keep walking.

"This Macrinus, everyone keeps talking about him. I think I saw him once in Egypt."

"This is no time for chit-chat; keep walking."

"Where are we really going?"

"Don't ask questions, just walk.”

“Fine.”

When they came outside, Octavius approached the guards, who were watching Hanno with curious expressions, and warned them threateningly not to disclose anything to anyone. Shortly after, Cato rode up to them on his horse.

“About damn time,” Marcus muttered.

He dismounted and rushed towards them. “General, sir.”

“Where have you been, Cato? Did you find Albanus?” 

Cato nodded. “Yes, I followed him. He made several stops along the way.” 

“Where is he now?” 

Cato lowered his head. “He’s at the whorehouse, sir. He’s… busy.” 

Octavius and Marcus exchanged glances.

“I never thought that man was loyal anyway,” Marcus mumbled.

"I'll go if you want me to," Octavius said, glancing at him hesitantly. 

"No, I'll go. You take him to the place we discussed," Marcus said, looking at Hanno. 

Hanno tensed up. "Wait a minute, what are you going to do to me?" 

Marcus smiled. "Don't you think it's a little late to be asking that question?" 

"But you're leaving me with these two. I don't trust them." 

Octavius shot him a dirty look, feeling the same suspicion he did. 

Marcus raised his eyebrows. "So, you trust me instead?" 

"No, I trust her, your wife. I don't know you, but I know her, so let's just say I trust what she says about you." 

Marcus moved closer to Hanno, his gaze intense. "You better stop claiming you know her; you're really getting on my nerves."

Hanno met his gaze just as fiercely. "But I do, even before you did.”

Octavius raised his fist. “That is enough! Sir, let me smash his face in!”

“Calm yourself, Octavius. Hurry up and get him out of here," he said through clenched teeth.

After that, he walked to his horse and mounted it. He glanced back at them one last time before urging his horse forward, and they rode off in separate directions.

——

"How can you be sure that Julia poisoned my mother?"

For over an hour, you had listened to this woman telling everything Marcus had told you earlier, while you pretended not to know anything. Now, however, you were really starting to struggle. You forced yourself to remain patient, hoping that Marcus had managed to get Hanno out and would come to get you soon.

“Yes, after all, she had to get rid of her to marry your father.”

Well, you knew that too; even a fool could see it. Now it was time for you to hear what you really wanted. So you asked, “But weren't you and Julia close? What made you decide to go behind her back? More importantly, what's in it for you?”

“Julia promised me that she would marry my cousin to Geta, but she broke her promise. Instead, she’s marrying him off to some Greek whore.”

“And you're taking your revenge on her in this way?”

Her gaze fell on the wine cup in her hand. "Only you can finish her, Aurelia. You have no idea how much she fears you."

"Is she?"

"Of course, she does... ever since she discovered you were alive. Your husband is a highly respected Roman general, and your brother is the emperor and they both care for you deeply. Additionally, you have given birth to an heir. If I possessed your power, I would have everything I desire. Yet, surprisingly, you remain modest.” She laughed in an unpleasant manner. "I wonder how you haven't managed to destroy her by now. Perhaps I've just given you the reason you need. What do you think?" She leaned across the table towards you. "Don't you believe it's time for you to start using the power you possess? Finish her off."

You couldn’t help but laugh; your patience was wearing thin. Just when you felt you could hardly endure it any longer, a slave approached you both. She looked at you with wide eyes before turning to her domina.

"My lady, General Acacius is here."

You let out a relieved breath. "Finally! I was afraid I might faint. Didn’t you feel that way, Decima dear?" You glanced at her and winked, prompting a smile from her.

Tacita looked confused. “What... what does this mean?”

You stood up. "Don't ever try to threaten me again, or I'll use that power you mentioned to finish you off. I’m not the type of person who will fall for your deceitful games.”

"You..." she murmured, stunned.

"My lady!" Marcus burst into the courtyard, calling your name as he came straight to you.

You responded to the smile on his face by smiling back. "You're just in time, my dear husband."

"I hope you weren't too bored."

You both turned to look at her and realized that Tacita's face was pale. "You two... What do you think you're doing?"

You ignored her and glanced at each other again. "Hanno?"

"He's safe."

She pointed her finger at you. “You deceived me! You played me!”

You looked at her again. “You played the game all along; we just changed the rules, and we won.”

She stood up, struggling to control her anger. “I don’t think Albanus would like this. How dare you kidnap our fighter?”

“Were you bluffing?” you asked angrily. “You said you’d have him killed.”

Marcus stepped between the two of you, still holding your hand. “Your husband Albanus already knows everything. He’ll be here soon; he was too busy getting dressed to come with me.”

Everyone present immediately understood the implication of his tone. Tacita's anger appeared to intensify.

Marcus gently stroked your cheek with his nose and whispered in your ear, ‘Wait for me in the carriage; I'll be right there." You nodded and, without looking at Tacita, left the courtyard with Decima.

Marcus approached her with a stern expression. "If I ever see my wife crying because of you again, I'll end you. Do you understand me?” His tone made even the slaves in the courtyard uneasy.

Just as you stepped outside, you saw Consul Albanus arriving at his villa. He greeted you quickly before rushing inside. Marcus was also coming out and stepped towards you. He smiled as the sounds of their argument echoed from inside. “I’ll go with Dromos, my lady; you take the carriage. It’s time for us to head home.” You gestured for Decima to get in the carriage first. Marcus leaned in closer and whispered in your ear, “If we weren’t in the middle of the street, I’d have you already.”

You giggled and bit your lower lip. “Let’s get going at once, then.”

—-

As soon as you arrived at the villa, you went straight to Marcius and nursed him. Even though you had only been away for a short time, you missed him terribly. When he fell asleep again, you handed him over to the girls and made your way to your chambers. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you climbed the stairs and realized that Marcus was waiting for you with his elbows resting on the balustrade. He was wearing only his burgundy tunic.

As you ascended the stairs, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into his arms, pressing his lips to yours. You could feel each other's hearts racing. Without breaking the kiss, he approached the door of the room. Turning so his back faced the door, he used his elbow to turn the handle and kicked it open with his foot. Once inside, he kicked the door shut behind him. You giggled in response to his impatience and urgency.

He sat you on the edge of the bed and knelt down. While he unlaced your sandals, you removed the hairpins from your hair.

“We really worked as a team today, didn’t we?”

He chuckled. “Yes, my love. We taught them a good lesson.”

“Oh, I want you so badly right now.”

Marcus grinned and kissed your knee as he took off your sandals. “Not as much as I want you, believe me.” He said huskily.

He untied your palla, removed your belt, and tossed it to the floor. When you were left only in your tunic, he looked up at you, his hands resting on your knees. “Now, princess... it’s time to fulfill my promise.” His hands moved up your thighs, gliding under the fabric of your tunic.

You threw your legs over his shoulder. “Don’t make your princess wait too long, general,” you teased.

He chuckled, leaned in to kiss you. “So impatient,” he said, nibbling at your earlobe. “What an impatient wife I have.”

You shrugged playfully, pursing your lips. He wrapped his arm around you and lifted you up, easily placing you on the bed so you could rest your head on the pillow while he would soon be busy between your legs.

But first, he was keen to enjoy the taste of your tongue and drink deeply from your mouth. Your lips had a glamour that fascinated him; he couldn't resist their charms. Each time, it captivated him as if it were the very first time, drawing him away from the present reality.

Without breaking the kiss, Marcus' hands wandered, following the curve of your waist, your hips, around to the small of your back, and you trembled at the heat of his touch against your bare skin as his hand slipped beneath your tunic, removing it harshly.

One hand came up to grip your hair and pushed them back, exposing your neck to him. He brought his teeth upon you, biting and suckling down on your skin, while his other questing hand found its way between your legs. Your knees buckled slightly, and the feel of his fingers finally between your aching folds made you whimper.

He pulled his hand out from between your lips, and you whined at the loss. "Hmm, so wet, so needy." He murmured, licking his fingers. Then he leaned down.

Your legs were parted for him already, so eager to feel his tongue on you, and he was more than willing to oblige. One arm snaked under your knee as he closed in on your womanhood, bringing your leg over his shoulder to angle your groin up slightly. That hand came to rest over your hips, holding you firmly. The other pushed your other leg further aside, opening you for him. He nipped and licked his way up your inner thigh, mouthing at your skin that grew more and more sensitive the closer he came to your throbbing cunt. You could feel his hot breath on you as he kissed your lips. Your hand flew to grab a fistful of his hair and you pulled him against you to feel his tongue against you.

He snickered and kissed your left inner thigh, and then you felt his nose and his mustache just ever so delicately grazed over your lips as he turned to kiss the other side. You squirmed, trying to angle your hips in such a way that gave you some contact with his mouth. He didn’t touch you, though. Was he teasing you?

“Marcus,” you whimpered. "I need you, please."

He chuckled, oh, how he loved you like this – when he knew he had you at his mercy.

“You’ll have to be more specific, my love,” he said, his breath against you and not nearly enough but somehow almost too much. You whined in response and couldn’t help but arch your hips up to him, just a little bit more. He needed to put his mouth on you, he needed to touch you, he needed to stoke the fire in the pit of your stomach, but coherent thought was well and truly out, and you didn’t have the words to ask for what you wanted. You tightened your grip on his hair and pulled him towards you, mewling softly.

He seemed to get your drift anyway, and locking eyes with you - he was so handsome, especially with a satisfied smirk at your need for him - he then leaned into your wetness. When his tongue, soft and slick and hot, met your pearl, you found your words.

“Gods!”

His laugh that rumbled against you sent a shiver through you, and you threw your head back, surrendering yourself to him completely. His tongue worked you just how he knew how you loved it, circling you, licking down on you, dipping low to tease your entrance before bringing his attention back to the center of your pleasure. He didn’t rush a moment of your delight, and when you were writhing against his face, he ran two fingers up your thigh and plunged them into you.

He sucked you and licked you and kissed you. All the while, his hot breath against you felt terribly intimate, and you were utterly his. You gasped and cried out under his movements, and he hummed out his satisfaction against your cunt. He pushed you closer and closer to the edge, and you tried to keep your eyes on him as he pleasured you but couldn’t stop yourself from rolling them and squeezing them shut as he brought you closer to the precipice; your toes curling.

"Marcus, I’m going to..." You groaned.

"Come for me, my love. Let me hear you. Let me taste you." He purred.

His words were the last straw, and somewhere between the delicious sensations within you and the absolute onslaught of his tongue on your clit, it all became far too much and just enough, and everything went pure white as he pushed you through your climax. Your hips bucked, all restraint gone, and you rode out your orgasm with his mouth still against you, his fingers still massaging you as every muscle in your body tightened all at once.

It wasn’t until the tremor that ripped through you had completely run its course that he slowly brought his fingers out of you. Your leg that was hiked over his shoulder hung limp against his back, and you were slumped back against the pillow, panting.

"Are you pleased, my princess?" He asked, licking his lips.

You nodded with your eyes still closed, unable to speak. He snickered and gave you a moment to recover, but soon, the sight of you became so arousal to him that his lust was growing, throbbing almost painfully. He leaned back on his heels to take you in. You slipped your leg off of his shoulder, and you met those hungry eyes of his, biting your lip in response.

The fire inside him was vibrant, and you wanted to be consumed by it.

He wrapped his arm possessively around your waist, drew you close, and kissed you deeply. One of your hands grasped his length, and he gasped in surprise.

“I wish to please you too, my love.” You cooed, fingers closed around his erection in a determined manner. He sighed and got up on his knees, his shadow enveloping your entire body while he gazed down at you with impossibly deep eyes. His heart was racing with excitement as you leaned into his groin, feeling like it was going to burst out of his chest. He was so hard for you, with leaking pre-cum from the tip, the incarnation of temptation itself.

He smiled gratefully down at you, bringing one hand to stroke your cheek. His thumb came to part your eager lips, and you kept your eyes fixed on his, loving the sight of him so ready to lose himself within you. Your jaw hung open for him, and that hand that had parted your lips trailed across your face and came to settle amongst your hair. His fist clenched around a handful of your locks, and you nodded up at him.

You touched him with your sweet, hot tongue, and he let out a loud groan as he pushed his length into your mouth. You took his tip in, eagerly, tasting him as he buried himself within you. He started slowly, letting you suck in as much as you could, removing himself completely from you with a really obscene booming sound when the suction of your lips around him broke.

“Damn,” he grunted and you hummed in approval as he pressed himself back within you, pushing your head towards him a little bit now. If you could, you would have been grinning against him, loving the way he was already losing himself in his pleasure. You kept your eyes fixed on him, watching his face contorted in delight. His eyes were squeezed shut, teeth over his bottom lip in a bid for restraint.

You quickened your pace,  moving up and down on him, taking him into you as far as you could before your throat threatened to convulse around him – and it wasn’t long before he held you there for a moment, choking on his length, and you knew he could no longer stop himself. His eyes flashed down to you, and you could not breathe around him. Your eyes stung, and the glance you exchanged was like oil thrown onto the fire of your passion. Something wild ignited behind his eyes, sending a thrilling rush through you. He relented, pulling completely out of your mouth, but it was only to reposition himself to thrust deeper.

He grabbed you around the waist and moved so that he could lean one hand on the headboard behind you, and he put one leg and spread it to the side. He guided and pushed his lust back into your mouth and slipped straight down your throat. In this position, you had your head tilted up towards him, and his free hand was still tangled in your hair, and with it, he kept you still. 

He was thrusting into you aggressively to make you hum and drool around him, but you loved his roughness. His hair hung limply over his forehead as he tilted down to watch you take him – it excited him so much to see you so compliant for him, so willing to be used by him. His breaths came in heavy gasps and guttural groans as he thrust into you. You loved the way he took what he needed from you, and he admired you so that he could trust you with his most carnal needs as he chased his release, bucking into you wildly.

You gripped him firmly, needily, holding his muscular thighs tight as he exploit your throat, and you relished in his love. This was just about need and being needed. This was something you could give him as his wife and you both loved it. With you, he was just a man with needs - needs that you were eager to fulfill, just as he'd done for you.

“My love, I'm going to –” he gasped out, cursed, strangled by his own climax. His rhythm stuttered, and he pushed himself into you deeply one last time and held you there, buried in your throat. You swallowed around his pulsing length, taking every drop of his spend, and although it was a choking sound, you moaned around his shaft in earnest gratitude. Even as he finished, he could not stop his groin from bumping against you. Once he was utterly drained, he slowly pulled out of you with a deep sigh as you sucked every inch of his softening length until he left your mouth with a soft moan. You might have felt a little shy with some of his seed still on your chin, but there was nothing to hide from him. You shared this, the quivering aftermath of the lust of the two of you, just as you shared it itself.

"Do you have any idea how incredibly fortunate you make me feel?" he asked. But the only answer he needed was for his lips to passionately touch yours. You sighed against him and buried into his chest, wrapping your arms around him. His furious lust was subdued for now but it never really gone, not just yet.

Still breathing heavily, he lay back on the bed and pulled you down with him. You ran your fingers over his muscular chest, which rose and fell with each breath. “How about some wine and fruit, husband?”

In a sudden move, he cupped your chin with one hand. “I’d love to eat your sweet tongue with that fruit,” he said, then kissed you, his tongue parting your lips and brushing against yours. When he finally released you, you giggled and stood up while he sat up in bed. He watched you with interest as you poured wine into a cup.

Soon, you returned to the bed with two cups and sat down beside him. His expression turned serious as you handed him the wine. “Aurelia, my love, I am so proud of you."

You sipped your wine, “Hm? Are you proud that I can satisfy you as your wife?”

He laughed, his free hand running through your hair. “That too. But mostly because I’ve seen how smart and strong you’ve become and what a good and caring mother you are.” He sighed. “Every day with you, I feel something I never experienced in my desolate and soulless life before you: gratitude.”

“Marcus...” you said coyly.

"I am grateful because you chose me; you gave me your light that illuminates my life, my soul. You could have given it to someone else, like that friend of yours, someone closer to your age. He obviously cared for you too, protecting and cherishing you." He laughed, but there was a hint of trouble in his voice. "I feel strangely grateful to him, and at the same time, a little jealous."

"Jealous?" you asked.

He pursed his lips. “Yes, because he met you before I did."

You reached over and placed your cup on the small table beside the bed so you could cup his face with both hands. "Marcus, what are you saying? Age? Knowing me before? What does any of that matter compared to my love for you? You silly man, don't you realize how much I love you? Don't you know that my days and nights belong only to you?”

You repeated his earlier words, and he smiled while caressing your cheek.

"So did I. Before you, my life had no purpose. Only your presence gives meaning to my life now. I'm grateful that I can have you and that I am your wife." You then frowned slightly, pressing your finger to his lips. "So don’t ever speak like that again."

“You’re right; I apologize. Let’s just forget it.”

You trailed your finger along his collarbone, “I'll forgive you if you recite a poem for me."

He paused to choose which poem to recite, smiled, set his cup on the floor, and turned back to you. One finger traced your lips before he spoke. “Finally I see, my heart loves, if these are crimes, then kill me. I have always asked Gods to grant me dignified death; thanks to them, your glance was what killed me. Who should I complain to? Because what tortures me is love.”

“It's beautiful…" you smiled.

He leaned over you, and in response, you lay on your back. He placed his hands on the bed on either side of you. "Nothing could be as beautiful as the sight of you lying beneath me, my love."

Before you could answer, he kissed you, hot and lascivious, forcing his tongue hastily into your mouth. And you hastily kissed him back. A grunt left his throat, matching your rapid breathing, and he raised his hands to rub your breasts, kneading them possessively. They gave under his hands, hardening, and you arched your back to press against him as your tongue rolled around his, into your mouth, dancing together. It was hard to breathe with the kiss and the scent of him, earthy and sweet together, and when you paused to catch your breath he kissed your lower lip hard enough to hurt, hard enough to send a rush of desire straight to your core.

Your hand clasped his hair and the other scratched the back of his neck. He pressed his knee between yours, parting them for him, and you eagerly slid your hips towards him. He swirled his tongue around your hardened nipples and looked up to meet your eyes again, both of you blurred with lust. Finally he began to move, thrusting out and then back in. Shivers ran down your spine every time his length rubbed against your insides, causing such tingly friction. That feeling of fullness... it drove you mad every time. He was very talented and patient, but his expertise only made you squirm more. For a while you rocked beneath him, trying desperately to move your hips against his. You tangled your fingers in his curls, pulling him against you, begging him to thrust deeper into you. You were in a trance, losing yourself second by second in this insane pleasure and heat. Moaning, groaning and screaming his name over and over again only served to make him go deeper.

You involuntarily arched your back and closed your eyes. His hand gently touched your chin. "Look at me, my love. I want to see your beautiful eyes as we both release…"

As always, he wanted to make this so pleasant to you. You did so and he pressed his lips against yours. His eyes burn you to the core, leaving you mewling for even more.

The breeze from the open window caused the tulle around the bed to sway gently, brushing against your sweaty body. You shivered, not from the cold, but from mind-blowing pleasure. He licked your earlobe, asking shamelessly with a dark, husky voice. “Do you wish me to breed this sweet cunt, my love?”

How could you possibly oppose him, for God's sake?

He sounded like he gave you a choice, but in reality, he knew your answer already, simply teasing you and enjoying himself.

Digging your fingers into his shoulders, your words came out, pleading. “Yes!” you cried between his thrusts as your cunt ached to be filled, “Yes, yes, breed me, please, Marcus.”

He chuckled derisively at your whimpering. “So needy, I see. I shall grant your wish-”

He gripped your hips possessively, pulling you even tighter against him, lips claiming yours one last time. You groaned in unison as he filled you in, your cunt clenching in response. You both gasped, your eyes closing in bliss as feeling his warm liquid washing your insides. He was still panting, savoring the moment, his fingers entwined with yours as he spilled the last drops into you. Your mind blurred with the orgasm you just had; you could only remain motionless as his lips roamed over the reddened parts of your body, kissing, licking, marking.

He soon rolled onto his side, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. As you felt the gentle brush of his breath against your back, like a soft whisper in the night, your eyelids grew heavy with fatigue. Surrendering to the soothing tranquility that surrounded you, you finally succumbed to the inviting depths of sleep.

—-

On the second day of the games, you and Marcus went to the Colosseum to watch the fights, just like the day before. A surprise addition to the event was the presence of tigers, which sent the crowd into a frenzy of excitement and cheers. As Hanno fought, you tensed up again, praying that the battle would end soon. Fortunately, he and his friends emerged victorious for the second consecutive day.

Geta felt a bit sad about losing two more tigers, but you could tell he was still enjoying himself somehow. Consul Albanus was pleased as well, but his happiness shifted when he noticed Marcus and you together. His wife was absent today, which might indicate that they had a significant argument—who knows? After all, Albanus had won a substantial amount of money thanks to Hanno's success, and his wife had endangered the life of his most valuable fighter by trying to blackmail you. He must have been furious when he discovered the truth.

Julia, unlike her former friend, was present and sitting next to Geta throughout the games. It pained you to see her there; anger was welling up inside you, and it hurt deeply. But for now, you had to be patient because Geta's wedding was just weeks away, and the last thing you wanted was to upset him. You cared about him and wanted him to have someone to love and to be happy, just like you. In fact, if you had Julia’s character, you could have easily ruined her, but you decided to wait for the right opportunity. You chose to hold off a little longer.

On the final day of the Games, you invited your aunt Antonia to the villa in the afternoon to discuss everything that had happened. However, first, you needed to attend the final event of the Games. You were deeply concerned about Hanno, who had been badly wounded in the arm the day before. He was on your mind constantly. You desperately wanted to speak to him before his last fight—after all, his life was on the line. However, Marcus was firmly against it. The cells were filled with fighters and gladiators, and the thought of allowing you to enter those confines only made him more frustrated. In the end, he couldn't resist your pleas and promised that once Hanno was a free man, he would take you to see him himself.

You felt so tense during the games that even the soft, comforting touch of Marcus’s lips on your hand couldn’t calm your nerves.

"You know him, don’t you?" Geta’s voice distracted you, and you glanced at him briefly, though your gaze remained fixed on Hanno.

"The last time I saw you this nervous was when Acacius was fighting over there," he grumbled.

"Yes, I know him; he's an old friend of mine."

Geta paused from watching the game and directed his attention to your face. "I hope he doesn't die then," he muttered, pursing his lips.

Marcus glared at him, but Geta chose to ignore his comments and remained focused on you. He then mumbled something under his breath.

"Did you say something to me?" You asked, trying to catch what he had said. You didn’t quite hear, but it sounded like he had remarked, ‘As if I am not in agony enough…' Perhaps you misheard him; the overwhelming noise of the crowd made it easy to get things mixed up.

Fortunately, Hanno displayed exceptional skill in combat and achieved a notable victory. Geta squinted for a long time at your overjoyed expression, as you clapped your hands cheerfully. The necessary procedures to grant the champions their freedom were to be initiated. However, this was not as simple as it seemed, and it could not be done immediately. First, the required payment had to be made to the appropriate authority, and then a commission had to be given to the purchaser. At least Hanno would no longer be forced to fight, you thought, although Marcus had mentioned that he might still participate in some small-scale fights at the gladiator training school to earn a bit more coin.

A week later, Hanno was legally a free man. Instead of returning to Egypt, he chose to stay at the gladiator training school as a medicus. However, he first needed to become a Roman citizen, which proved to be a bit of an ordeal since he was reluctant to apply for citizenship. You were supposed to talk to him about this, but you've been a bit busy lately. The situation with Decima and Octavius was a significant part of the reason for your distraction. Immediately after Marcus freed Decima as his dominus, you began preparations for their wedding. You wanted her to be happy—she deserved it, after all. Still, it made you a little sad that you couldn’t see her whenever you wanted, as you used to. Octavius’ family lived in the countryside outside the city, but his own modest house was not far from yours, which brought you some relief.

Your little Marcius was growing every day, and he made the most beautiful mumbles that you had never heard in your life, and he never ceased to amaze you. When Marcus was at home, he never let him out of his arms. He was telling him every day how strong he would become, how he would lead his own armies one day, how they would ride horses together, and how he would teach him how to use a sword. You couldn't wait for those days to arrive, but at the same time, you couldn't shake your worries about him. As long as Julia lived, that concern would never fade, and you were all too aware of it.

The day before Geta's wedding, you and Decima visited Palatine Hill to check on Nerissa and her baby. Nerissa had done so much for you during your wedding preparations back then, she also kind of saved your life, so you wanted to return the favor. As you and Decima presented her with the bridal verbena crown you had made together, Nerissa looked happy, though perhaps not as joyful as you had expected. The baby appeared healthy, and it seemed he had regained weight since the last time you saw him. After a quick chat, during which she seemed somewhat tired, you left her chambers and went downstairs. Something about her felt a bit off, but you thought it was just pre-wedding nerves. You hoped that was all it was.

As you reached the main courtyard, you inquired with the slaves about Geta's whereabouts. They informed you that he was in the great hall with some members of the Senate. Fortunately, Julia was not with him; she was occupied with decorations and other preparations. You caught a glimpse of her from a distance, but she didn’t recognize you, which you were thankful for. The last wedding held in this palace was yours, and you smiled as you reminisced about that day.

Upon entering the main courtyard, you saw Commander Darius and several members of the Senate. They greeted you with a respectful bow. You noticed an anxious look on their faces, and after they departed, you approached Darius to inquire about it. He appeared somewhat troubled, which made you curious.

“Commander, is something wrong? Where is my brother?” you asked.

“He's inside, my lady. Unfortunately, a messenger arrived this morning with some bad news,” he replied.

“A messenger, you say?” 

“Yes, my lady. It seems that the Council is to hold an emergency meeting after Emperor Geta's wedding. The situation is, unfortunately, serious. I was planning to go see General Acacius now, as His Majesty requested me to bring him here.” 

“What is the matter that is so serious?” 

He sighed deeply. “It seems that Elagabalus has escaped and betrayed Emperor Geta, seeking refuge with the Carthaginians, and they have taken it. We must be prepared for anything. Anyway, I have to go see the General. Is he in the barracks?” 

“He said he would be there today,” you muttered, nodding your head. 

He saluted you and left the courtyard with a few soldiers. 

“Just when we thought the war was over…” Decima sighed in distress.

You looked at her and realized she must have been feeling the same way you did. Your chest tightened at the thought. The war... You didn’t want to hear that word for a long time, but now it was being mentioned again, and a bad feeling washed over you. You hated it.

When you arrived in the great hall, Geta was sitting alone at his desk with his head in his hands. He looked up as the guards closed the door behind you, and his troubled expression softened upon recognizing you. He pushed back his chair, stood up, and approached you.

“Ah! Just when I needed you the most...”

You allowed him to hug you as he looked very sad and desperate.

“Is it true? What your cousin did...”

He let out a distressed sigh and returned to his desk. His hand was shaking as he poured himself a goblet of wine. Was he drunk? He didn’t even have a servant with him; he probably just wanted to be alone.

“That’s true, I’m afraid.” He picked up the goblet and gestured to the tangled papers and letters on the desk as you approached.

“Here, look. See what a terrible emperor I am.”

You examined the letters and correspondences you held in your hands. The letters were from Sicily, Sardinia, Athens, the Gauls, and, notably, Carthage. Each letter indicated a refusal to continue tax payments to Rome and posed a threat to terminate trade relations.

“How did Elagabalus persuade them all to do this?”

“It truly doesn't matter; as you can see, they have reached a common agreement. Their goal is to defeat Rome and divide its territories among themselves so that he can ascend to the throne and fulfill his promises to them. I suspect they are likely preparing for an attack. I need to convene the council tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow is your wedding.”

"In this situation, it would be reasonable to consider either postponing or canceling the wedding."

"No, brother. Have you forgotten that Elagabalus sought to abduct her? He has plotted this out but he failed, so he wouldn't want you to wed her, would he? You cleared the scattered papers off the map on the table, searched for Greece, and placed your finger on its location. "When the Greeks learn that your heir is born of their princess, it's likely they could cut ties with their current alliances. Furthermore, it seems the Greek city-states haven't united against Rome just yet."

"Consuls claim that the Athenians value their democracy, yet they also hold their culture in high regard. It is possible that they cherish their princesses, but it is uncertain whether their councils will support the marriage."

“They will. They must,” you said firmly.

He grinned, "Do you really think that's not overly optimistic? Should we just wait and do nothing?"

"We absolutely must make every necessary preparation," you said. The south is clearly the center of escalating tensions, and it's obvious that if war breaks out, the southern legions will be deployed there to confront the threat. Even a child could grasp that reality. Yet, the unsettling truth remains: the one who will command them is none other than your husband, General Acacius. This fact was a significant concern for you.

Suddenly, your thoughts scattered at the sound of his mocking voice. You turned to look at him. "Of course. Why wouldn't I want to?" You squinted at him. "Honestly, why are you so against getting married?"

He gazed down at the goblet in his hand. "It's strange, being tied down to one person."

"Is that really what you're worried about? I mean, you're the emperor. You have as many concubines as you desire." You smiled, attempting to lighten the atmosphere.

Suddenly, he slammed the goblet onto the desk, causing wine to spill over and soiling some papers. Was he angry? But what you said was not wrong. He stepped toward you, a different look in his eyes making you nervous. "Who says I want them? In my bed, maybe, but never in my heart."

"Well, technically, you can't have more than one person in your heart anyway." You snapped in response.

"Is that so?" He sounded upset. "What about your heart? Do you only have room for one person? Is there no space for anyone else?"

You looked away, uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading. "You're drunk and upset. You don't know what you're saying."

He grasped your shoulders tightly, startling you. "How long will you ignore my feelings?"

You tried to free yourself from his grip but he wouldn't let you. "Brother... please, this isn't what you think it is. You believe you love me, but you're mistaken. This isn't love; it can't be. Love is meant to be easy; it shouldn't cause suffering. So please, come to your senses. Don't destroy what we have between us."

You weren’t sure if it was because he was drunk, but he refused to listen to you, and you didn't like the way he looked at you. Suddenly, he tilted his head toward you, and when his eyes dropped to your lips, you tried with all your strength to pull back, but you couldn’t. All you could do was close your eyes and press your lips tightly together. Just then, the door to the great hall opened.

“Your Majesty, as you requested, I have brought General Acacius—” Commander Darius was too shocked by what he saw to finish his sentence.

Both of you turned your heads in that direction. 

To be continued…

Notes:

I wrote the chapter based on my research about the punic wars (especially the second). i changed it a bit myself, but i tried to stick to the original history, after all this is a fanfiction if i made any mistakes please inform me... thanks for reading :)

Chapter 22: Hostile

Aliud Ex Alio Malum

One evil rises from another...

 

“Your Majesty, I have brought General Acacius, as you requested—” Commander Darius was too shocked by what he saw to finish his sentence.

Both of you turned your heads in that direction.

At that moment, three things happened. Geta turned his head back toward you. You pushed yourself back with all your strength, struggling to break free from his grip. Meanwhile, Marcus, who was right behind Darius, noticed you. Geta, already struggling to remain upright due to his drunken state, swayed and collapsed toward you. Just as you were about to fall to the ground under his weight, Marcus swiftly ran up, grabbed you, and pulled you away from Geta, not caring that he tumbled to the ground himself. Darius, though agile, only rushed to Geta's side after you had fallen.

“Your Majesty!” Darius exclaimed, grabbing Geta by the shoulders and lifting his head, worry etched across his face. Geta mumbled something, but thankfully, no one could make out what it was. Marcus’s intense gaze fixed on him, making you tense. You placed your hand on his, which rested protectively on your waist.

“He’s so drunk he can’t even stand,” you said, avoiding eye contact with him. But Marcus continued to stare with a frown.

“Take him to his chambers,” you directed at the other guards. Geta appeared unconscious as the guards lifted him and carried him out. You took a step to follow them, but Marcus pulled you back, turning your head to face him. You swallowed as his dark brown eyes questioned yours.

“He’s upset about the news the messenger brought. He’s been drinking a lot of wine, apparently, and the wedding tomorrow has made him nervous, I guess.”

He didn’t respond; he just kept looking at your face.

"That's why he was staggering and grabbed onto me. I was going to call them over to take him to his room anyway."

He pursed his lips. "I didn't ask for any explanation, you know. Why did you feel the need to explain?"

You averted your gaze. "Well, I just wanted to make sure you don't take it the wrong way."

He narrowed his eyes."Are you saying that something happened that I might misunderstand?"

"No, I’m not saying that at all. Absolutely nothing like that happened. I mean, what could possibly happen? So please don’t be angry. He was just really drunk.”

He laughed at your expression and your attempts to convince him, gently touching your cheek. "I understand clearly, my lady; you've said it more than once. But I didn't like seeing him touch you like that."

“Because he was drunk—” You bit your lip, realizing you had brought it up again. Instinctively, you placed your index finger over your lips. “Damn, I mentioned it again.”

Marcus smirked before leaning down to kiss you, first pressing his lips to your finger that sat between both of your lips, and then to the corner of your mouth. He grinned as you looked at him in surprise. Your cheeks flushed, but fortunately, no one was watching in the great hall.

"I don't think this is a good time to discuss politics or strategy," he said. "Let's leave this place; I want to head home." He took your hand and leaned in closer as you walked toward the door. "I need more than just a kiss to unwind from the day.” He whispered into your ear.

You felt your cheeks flush as you passed the guards at the door. Once you reached the courtyard, your eyes searched for Decima, and you spotted her standing in the corner. However, before you could approach her, Commander Darius intercepted you. You averted your gaze, feeling embarrassed; after all, he had witnessed everything. He shot you a quick look and began speaking to Marcus. They started discussing the letters that the messenger had delivered.

“I'll check on Geta before I leave,” you told him.

Marcus frowned. “I’m sure he’s fine; don’t worry.”

“I must make sure he is sober by the wedding tomorrow. It shouldn’t take long.”

He nodded. “Alright, then. I’ll wait here.”

You smiled at him and walked over to Decima. Together, you headed toward the stairs leading to Geta's chambers.

As you climbed the stairs, you noticed that the slaves were waiting outside Geta's room. Just as you were about to enter, Julia stepped out. You chose to ignore her and went inside, but you could feel her gaze lingering on you.

“I didn’t realize you were here,” she remarked.

Ignoring Julia, you approached Geta, who was lying in bed. As you studied his face, you asked Nerissa, who was sitting at the edge of the bed, "Has he woken up yet or said anything?"

"Not yet," Julia replied.

You glanced at her. "I didn't ask you. But since you wanted to chime in..." You turned back to Geta, who was mumbling something. "Why did you let your son, whose wedding is tomorrow, drink so much?"

She didn't answer but seemed annoyed.

"He didn't listen to me; he seemed a bit upset," Nerissa murmured.

“He did not listen to anyone,” Julia added.

Looking at Geta's face, you couldn't stop thinking about what had happened earlier. It didn't seem possible to talk to him now because he wasn't himself. But you knew, or at least hoped, that when he woke up, he would regret what he had done.

"I'll make him a herbal concoction; it will help him sober up and get rid of the intoxication," you said, standing up. "Make sure he drinks it."

Nerissa nodded and looked at you with a weak smile. You then left the room and approached the slaves. "None of you will serve any more wine to Emperor Geta until tomorrow, understood? Ensure that he drinks the herbal concoction I will prepare instead.”

The slaves exchanged nervous glances.

“You talk as if Geta will listen to them,” Julia said mockingly as she approached you. “They have to bring him what he wants; that’s their duty—”

“Then tell him that I asked for it. If you say, ‘Aurelia asked for it,’ His Majesty will agree. I’m certain.”

You could feel the slaves and guards looking at each other and murmuring as you turned away from Julia’s puzzled expression and walked toward the stairs. They all knew that the emperor would listen to you and follow your decision, which only made Julia angrier as she faced the truth.

—-

In the morning, a warm touch on your right breast and a soft kiss on your cheek woke you up. As you opened your eyes, you saw Marcus smiling at you. Tilting your head down, you noticed that your little one was awake too. Marcus was holding his little hand and touching your breast with it.

"Our son is very hungry," he said.

Last night, he had woken up crying several times, so you had decided to put him between you in bed. You sat up on your elbow and leaned towards him to make it easier to feed him.

"Of course you're hungry, considering you filled the whole villa with your cries last night," you joked with a laugh.

Marcus chuckled as well. "He's such a whiner now; he cries all the time," he replied while gently placing his finger in the baby's tiny palm. The little one immediately grasped his father’s finger tightly.

“Babies cry, my love. It might be a bit early, but I think our little one might be teething. He keeps munching on his hand. I’m thinking of finding him a safe little teething toy that he can nibble on—it should really help soothe his gums.”

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through your nipple, causing you to moan softly. “You see? He bites me now, too."

"Don’t blame him for that, love. You’re so sweet that I often want to bite you, too. Like this, for example..." He leaned toward you and lightly bit your cheek.

"Marcus," you whined, patting him on the shoulder. "As if you didn't do enough last night.”

"But it didn't last long, Marcius kept crying the whole time," he said, pursing his lips. "Make sure the girls take care of him tonight. I want to run my teeth all over that soft skin of yours all night." He kissed your lips as you giggled, then got out of bed.

Marcius had stopped feeding on your right breast, so you picked him up, sat on the bed, and turned him onto his left side to feed him from the other breast. Marcus stepped out onto the balcony, glancing at the sun's position in the sky to gauge the time. "It's nearly noon; we'd better get ready soon," he said.

“Can you ask them to bring breakfast to the room?” you said, feeling your stomach rumbling. “Breastfeeding Marcius makes me so hungry now.”

Marcus laughed as he opened the lid of the closet. “Of course, my love, but first I have something I want to give you.”

You looked at him curiously. “What is it?”

As he approached, he held a small wooden box in his hand. Marcius had fallen asleep, so you laid him in bed. Marcus sat next to you and opened the box. “I finished my duties at the barracks early yesterday and stopped by the goldsmiths. I’ve been so eager for this to be ready so I could finally give it to you.” He carefully retrieved a gold bracelet that was intricately designed in the shape of a snake. The rich, warm hue of the gold glinted under the sunlight, and upon closer inspection, the engravings on the snake’s body were astonishingly lifelike. Each scaled texture was etched with remarkable precision, showcasing the craftsmanship that clearly required countless hours of meticulous effort. The way the snake coiled around itself added an elegant fluidity to the piece, making it not only a piece of jewelry but also a stunning work of art.

“Marcus, it's... it's beautiful,” you said.

"The snake symbolizes healing, and you are the remedy for my soul.”

“A fitting gift for a medicus. I'm so grateful, my love. Thank you.” You leaned over and kissed him.  It was inscribed, ‘eius dux ad filiam regis’, ’from her general to his princess,’ inside.

——

The wedding of Emperor Geta took place at the Domus Severiana, as no one from Nerissa's family was in Rome, nor did she have a home of her own. The afternoon ambiance around the Palatine Hill was markedly different from today. After all, the last significant wedding held there was your own. This location hadn't hosted an emperor's wedding in many years. The streets were filled with people just as they were on your wedding day. You felt this more acutely when your carriage arrived; the crowd was so dense that you had to wait for the guards to clear a path.

Marcus couldn't take his eyes off you throughout the journey. When you noticed he was still looking at you, you turned to him with a questioning glance.

“Should we go back?” he asked.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “What? Why?”

He leaned over and kissed your hand. “You look so beautiful; I don’t think I can bear the thought of other men looking at you.”

Your cheeks flushed pink. “Marcus... We've come all this way. Besides, it's my brother's wedding and—” Suddenly, he kissed you. You were surprised, but you quickly returned his kiss. You placed both hands on his shoulders, rubbing them softly. "And don't forget that I'm your wife. What's the point if they just stare? I am yours, and I will always remain so; no one can ever change that, neither in this life nor in the next.”

He smiled widely and leaned over, kissing your shoulder and then your upper arm, just above the spot where the bracelet he had given you rested. "If I find myself thanking the gods every day, it is for this very reason, my princess.”

He gently pressed his forehead against yours, and you both closed your eyes, embracing the moment as the world outside faded away.

Then he stood up and walked out of the carriage, extending his hand to you. You took his hand and descended the steps. The gates were open, and the air of celebration spilled out into the streets. Taking Marcus's arm, you moved closer to the sounds coming from inside.

As soon as you stepped into the courtyard, the murmuring ceased for a moment, and a hush fell over the crowd as everyone turned to look at you both. For the first time, you didn’t shy away from their stares; instead, you held your head high and met their gazes one by one, boldly and without hesitation. Almost everyone was there: members of the Senate, their wives, noble families of the upper class, foreign guests, diplomats, relatives of the Severus dynasty, and, of course, the priests. They all greeted you respectfully as you walked through their midst towards the priests, and you smiled in return. The murmuring grew more enthusiastic.

After some time, Geta entered and approached the high priest, whispering something in his ear. The priest nodded in response. He looked better than the day before, and when he noticed you, he smiled shyly as if wanting to approach you. However, since the ceremony had begun, he remained at the altar and waited for his bride.

Soon, Nerissa appeared, receiving soft applause from the guests as she walked to the altar on the arm of a man you had never seen before. His toga looked different, too. When you glanced at Marcus to ask, he tilted his head towards you, "One of the Greeks; I believe he is a relative of hers.”

A wave of sadness washed over you for Nerissa; her parents couldn't be there to support her on such a special day since they were no longer alive and she was unaware of it. You felt a connection to her, recalling that Geta and Caracalla were the ones who escorted you to the altar back then. When the high priest announced that they were now husband and wife, Geta leaned in to kiss her, and applause erupted around you. You happily joined in the clapping, feeling hopeful that this marked the beginning of brighter days ahead for both them and yourself.

At the wedding banquet, the large courtyard was filled with the joyful sounds of music and chatting. Geta and Nerissa were in the special fancy seats prepared just for them, and people were coming over to congratulate them. You were right next to them, enjoying a conversation with Nerissa about your little ones. It was good to see her about to be called an empress, but you noticed that she wasn't quite as cheerful as you’d hoped. You found yourself doing most of the talking, as she seemed a bit reserved. Maybe she was just missing her parents, so you didn’t want to push it. Meanwhile, Marcus kindly fed you some fruit, complaining that you hadn’t eaten anything because you were too busy chatting. The other guests also came around to talk with you shortly.

“Acacius!”

A bulky man, seemingly in his thirties approached the two of you, displaying a broad smile. You were certain you had not encountered him before. Marcus rose to his feet, appearing equally delighted. “Agrippa!”

You were taken aback when they embraced each other, and you stood up as well.

“How have you been, cousin? I was unaware that you were in Rome.”

“I arrived two days ago,” he said, looking at you with interest. “You must be our princess.” He bowed his head respectfully.

Marcus wrapped his arm around your waist. “Lady Aurelia, my wife. My lady, this is my cousin Agrippa. He is the commander of Legio XIV Gemina.”

Ah, right, he mentioned that legion once. It was one of the legions raised by emperor Julius Caesar.

“I am honored to meet you, my lady,” Agrippa said, placing his hand on his chest with a respectful gesture.

“The honor is mine, Commander,” you replied politely.

"Forgive me for not attending the wedding. When I received Acacius' letter, I was preparing to leave for Rome, but an issue arose in the north. Then I heard the news of Emperor Caracalla's death, and my soldiers were anxious about their pay and the new ruling. Fortunately, Emperor Geta was able to rule alone—who knew?" He said and put his hand on Marcus’ shoulder. "I am proud to learn that my cousin has not only served as a general but has also been a valuable aide to the emperor, even saving his life. I have also heard about your contributions to Rome and how well you have served her. You truly are a hero.”

"I was just doing my duty. Fortunately, we managed to punish the traitors and restore order," Marcus replied.

They both took sips of their wine. Agrippa lowered his voice slightly. "I've also heard about Flavius.”

Marcus's expression darkened. "I’m certain you’ve heard."

Agrippa looked over his shoulder at the men in the distance. His and the other men's togas were similarly completed with white or dark purple shawls, as was customary for high-ranking soldiers serving in the army. Marcus wore a red shawl that hung over his shoulders because he was the general, and he was, without doubt, more attractive than any of the men there or in all of Rome. Seeing him in crowded places among other men only deepened your admiration for him, and you felt grateful for having him and being his.

"Centurion Varus is here. It’s been far too long since I last saw him. The last time was when he was with Severus, and he was excited to head Britannica; he can’t stand the heat, as you know."

Marcus flashed a grin, acknowledging the humor between them, but their cautious glances at him raised suspicion. Agrippa turned to Marcus. "Flavius was a trusted right-hand man of Varus. He and the consul Macrinus… I was furious to learn they were scheming against you. Thankfully, you killed that bastard."

Marcus placed his hand on your shoulder and beamed with pride. "It was Lady Aurelia who took down that traitor."

You met his gaze and smiled shyly, “I achieved this only because of the invaluable tactics you taught me, General."

"My dear wife shows remarkable humility," Marcus smirked.

Agrippa chuckled and raised his cup. "Now that’s what I call a truly harmonious couple.”

As they discussed the legions and the soldiers, you felt unable to engage in the conversation. When you looked back at Geta, you noticed his eyes were fixed on you as if he wanted to say something. However, your aunt Antonia soon approached, blocking your view. She took your arm and turned to Marcus.

“General Acacius, may I borrow my niece Aurelia for a moment?”

Marcus nodded, and you smiled at him before stepping away from his side. Your aunt began to walk with you toward the fountain ahead.

“Are you still angry with me, my dear?”

Not exactly, but you were indeed upset; she was one of the people who had kept the truth about your mother from you. However, you understood that she had done so for the same reasons as Marcus.

“No, I’m not angry, but I still wish you hadn’t hidden it from me. I would have preferred to hear it from you rather than from others.”

“You’re right; forgive your stubborn old aunt,” she said, patting your arm gently.

You smiled weakly. “Paulina did not come, as I can see."

“She’s in labor next week, dear, and I want her to avoid any exertion. She’s resting now.” 

“I hope everything goes well for her and that the baby arrives healthy.” 

“I hope so too. Listen, I know how upset you are, my dear, but try not to worry. Soon, those who caused us this pain will be punished for good.”

You paused and looked at her. "How do you mean?"

“Julia. Soon we will get rid of her—” She couldn't finish her sentence as she became agitated, glancing behind you. You turned your head to see what had caught her attention and saw Geta approaching.

“Aurelia, my dear sister, may I speak with you for a moment?” Geta asked.

Your aunt bowed her head and walked away. While Marcus and Agrippa continued their conversation, Marcus noticed Geta talking with you, intently watching both of you.

“Congratulations, brother,” you said, crossing your arms.

Geta locked his gaze with yours, a hint of embarrassment on his face. “Listen, about what happened yesterday... I wasn’t myself. I hope you can forgive me. My memory is a bit fuzzy, and I hope I didn’t go too far.” His eyes briefly flickered to your lips.

“You didn’t, thankfully.” You swallowed hard as you recalled the moment.

“Acacius would have punched me if I had, wouldn’t he?” Geta grinned.

You squinted at him. “I'm afraid he would do worse; it's a relief he didn't notice. It better not happen again.”

He took your hand in both of his, looking at you sincerely. “I promise it won’t.”

Marcus didn’t seem to like that, but he remained still. Just then, Commander Darius approached and whispered something in Geta’s ear.

“I'll be right back, sister,” he said as he left. Darius was about to walk away when you stopped him.

“Commander Darius, about what happened yesterday... It's not what you think, and I—”

“My lady, it's none of my business. You don't have to explain yourself to me, please.”

“I know, but still... You’re my husband’s friend, which makes you my friend too. That’s why I don’t want you to misunderstand—”

“My lady, I appreciate your sincerity, but you don’t have to worry. I would never mention such an incident to Acacius, especially about such nonsense,” he replied with a smile.

You touched his shoulder. “You are a good friend, Darius.”

He bowed his head respectfully and was about to step away when another man approached you from behind him. “Your Highness, Princess Aurelia, it is a pleasure to meet you in person.”

This man was Varus, the centurion that Marcus and his cousin had just told you about. He nodded to you, taking a moment to observe you from head to toe. “I have heard much about your beauty, and it seems that, for once, the rumors were indeed true, I see,” he said with a grin.

Suddenly, a possessive arm wrapped around your waist.

“I wonder if the soldiers of Legion XIV have too much time to gossip in their camp?” Marcus's voice was sharp and cold—ice cold.

Varus laughed. “Acacius, you haven't changed a bit, I see. You're still overprotective and uptight.”

“That’s true, and it serves me well. However, I can’t say the same for you, given your unchanged, tactless attitude.”

The tension between them filled the air, palpable enough to sense with your entire body.

"You assert that, yet I have returned to Rome to initiate significant changes in my life. I am contemplating a candidacy for the Senate and am seeking a suitable match to wed." His eyes were all over you which made you uneasy. "I am uncertain whether I will have the same fortune as you, however.”

Marcus recognized the implication of his words but chose to ignore it. “I hope you won’t make the same mistakes as your right-hand man, who paid for them with his life,” he said through clenched teeth.

“He was a good man, but he had uncontrollable rage. Furthermore, if he made mistakes, I cannot be held responsible, can I?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be responsible for him as his commander?” you interjected, noting the surprise on their faces. “Did you truly have no awareness of his plans? That traitor Macrinus appointed him Praetorian prefect with great ease; it was evident that this arrangement was premeditated, particularly in targeting emperor himself, my husband and me.”

He laughed—a troubled laugh. “My lady, you would have made a good commander. But really, I had no idea he had returned with such intentions. Had I known, I would have stopped him.”

“Yes, I’m certain that you would have,” Marcus muttered.

Varus looked at you, “My lady, I hope we meet again. If you will excuse me.”

You glanced at Marcus instead of Varus, noticing his hands clenched into fists in anger. You touched his shoulder to soothe him.

“I see you didn't get along well with him,” you remarked.

“That man is just unreliable. His intentions for returning to Rome cannot be trusted.”

“If he is elected to the Senate as he claims, could he pose a potential threat? Furthermore, as a soldier and centurion, might he interfere in the relationship between you and your legates, causing some disruption? Could that happen?”

He looked at you and smiled. “You needn't worry about it, my lady. Everyone in my troops in the city is loyal to me alone. Darius is managing the praetorians very well, too. Varus wouldn’t dare become a threat to us.”

“What about Elgabalus?” you asked.

“If the Athenians withdraw their support, that threat will be too small to consider. The Carthaginians would not dare act without backing from the others; their army is weak compared to ours. With only five thousand men, I can defeat them on land before sundown.” He said it softly, as if it were something he did every day. He pushed your hair back and let his eyes linger over the exposed part of your shoulder. "Moreover, given the presence of the Greek delegation committee at the wedding, it appears that the circumstances may be favourable to us.”

You smiled at him. “I hope so.”

Geta returned to your side as he had promised, and they began discussing the Greeks. He also inquired about Marcius and expressed how much he missed him. However, Julia, whom you wanted to avoid looking at during the night, commanded the music to stop, and silence fell. Everyone, including Geta, looked at her in confusion, and there was a murmur among the guests when she announced she had a surprise. You noticed some of the consuls whispering to one another, and when you saw the denarii in their hands, you realized they were placing bets.

One of the consuls stepped forward and addressed Geta. “Your Majesty, my emperor, congratulations once again.” Then he turned to you, “Princess Aurelia.” He looked at the others and declared, “Senators, ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, for your entertainment, behold the art of combat!”

Everyone was excited, murmuring, and clapping their hands. You felt tense as you looked at Marcus, who seemed to understand your feelings even before you made eye contact.

“Mother seems determined to please the Greeks,” Geta said, clapping his hands.

You squinted at him, asking, “So you didn’t know?”

“I didn’t know, I swear to all the gods. I wish I had,” he replied with a cheerful grin. “Come now, don’t pout. Let’s sit down,” he suggested, beckoning you with his hand.

You and Marcus followed him to your seats, and as soon as you sat down, one of the consuls summoned a gladiator from his stable. Another consul, a rival, did the same.

Soon, two gladiators appeared with their hands in chains. Once freed, they began to fight at the signal. The guests watched eagerly, laughter and applause echoing throughout the courtyard. When the fight ended and they dragged away the man who lay lifeless on the ground, you felt sick to your stomach. The smell of blood, reminiscent of rusty iron, was everywhere. Marcus patted you on the back, trying to calm you down, but there was worse to come.

Soon, two more fighters arrived, and when you saw Hanno, you felt nauseous. He glanced around the crowd and gave a half-smile when he spotted you, but you could tell he was unhappy to be there. You felt compelled to act. Reaching out, you grabbed Geta's arm, “Please, do something.”

“He’s a skilled fighter, sister. Allow him to show that,” he murmured.

“He's right, Aurelia,” Marcus said. “If we interfere, it will only stir up gossip among the guests. Please try to stay calm; don’t let anyone see that you know him. This is not good for him, and it’s certainly not good for you.”

You glanced over at Tacita, who stood a short distance away. A flicker of suspicion crossed your mind—was she doing that to provoke you intentionally?

As the fight commenced, Hanno stepped forward with focused determination, his movements sharp and unpredictable. He danced around his opponent, using strategy and strength to dispatch him swiftly. Within moments, he landed a decisive strike with his sword, ending the fight without so much as a scratch on his body. The crowd erupted into applause, cheering for his prowess with shouts of admiration, their faces glowing with excitement. Yet amidst their celebration, your heart felt heavy. You weren’t swept up in their fervor; instead, a profound sadness enveloped you. Hanno was still far from freedom, needing a certain amount of denarii to purchase his emancipation. This dire need compelled him to fight in brutal, often deadly games, each one a reminder of his captivity. You knew him well enough to recognize the internal struggle he faced; this was not a life he chose willingly. Every life he took weighed heavily on his conscience, and you could see the shadow of regret in his eyes, even as he fought for survival.

Hanno took one last look at you as the guards led him away. Geta jumped to his feet and applauded. “I told you! He’s a great fighter! That was a lot more fun than what we saw at the Colosseum. Remarkable!”

You forced a smile, but soon you could no longer bear the laughter and comments about him. Suddenly, you stood up. You glanced in the direction they had taken him, calculated where you needed to go, and were about to take a step when Marcus stopped you by grabbing your arm.

“Marcus, I need to speak with him. Please let me see him.”

He looked as if he was going to object, but he couldn't bear to see your sad expression and nodded hesitantly. As you walked out, Marcus lifted you to avoid stepping on the blood on the floor, and together, you moved toward Hanno. There were still two guards with him, and they greeted you when they saw you. They were about to place him in the prison carriage, but Marcus ordered them to stop. Marcus was kind enough to take a reluctant step back to give you space to speak freely with him. Hanno smiled at you, but he looked upset.

“You Romans have a strange sense of amusement,” he muttered, glancing at the bleeding wound on his hand.

“Are you hurt? Let me see,” you urged, extending your hand toward him, but he stepped back instead.

“Do you really want to stain your pretty dress with blood? It’s nothing; the wound that had closed before has reopened, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” You exhaled in frustration. “I can’t stand this nonsense, Hanno. How much longer will it take to free you?”

He glanced at Marcus, who was standing behind you, and then returned his gaze to you. “It will only require a little more time. If I succeed in that endeavor, I will be free. Please, do not concern yourself.”

“How can I not? I genuinely want to help you.” “I do not want you and your husband to be at odds over me,” he said with a grin. You rolled your eyes playfully. “We do not argue. He would never upset me.”

He pursed his lips. “Good for him.”

“Now, stop thinking about me and tell me how I can assist you. Is Albanus treating you well?” He He looked away. “Ambitious and a bit reckless, but he is not the worst person I met.”

You rolled your eyes. “That sounds just like you.” you quipped.

He chuckled, and you joined in the laughter.

When he looked at you again, he looked serious. ‘Aurelia, don't worry about me. I can always take care of myself, you know that well.’

You nodded. ‘I know.’

It hurt not being able to help your old friend, being forced into something like this, but there seemed to be no choice but to wait.

"My lady, we should leave now," Marcus said as he approached you, casting a glance over his shoulder. You followed his gaze and noticed Albanus and the other consuls ahead. "I promise I will make sure you are free soon; just hold on a little longer," you replied. However, as soon as you turned around, you lost your balance. Hanno caught you before you hit the ground, but your knee struck the stone floor hard, causing you to groan. Marcus rushed to your side. "Aurelia! Are you alright?"

You put your hand on your head. “I don’t feel so well; maybe it’s the smell of blood,” you murmured.

“You were like this when you were little too. I thought you would have gotten used to it by now,” Hanno smirked.

Marcus shot him an angry glare and pushed his hands away, which had stained your dress with blood and dirt. Then, he helped you to your feet.

“Can you walk? Do you need me to carry you?”

You shook your head, trying to keep your eyes closed to block out the throbbing pain in your head. As you attempted to walk, you stumbled, your vision fading to black as you fell. The last thing you heard was Marcus’s concerned voice calling your name.

—-

You woke up with a terrible headache. The first sound you heard was the soothing chirping of crickets, a calming contrast to the crowd noise you had heard just before you fainted. This could only mean one thing: you were back in your room. You yawned and glanced around lazily, searching for Marcus or Marcius, but there was no one else there.

Soon, however, you heard footsteps approaching. Marcus opened the door and immediately looked at you as he entered.

“Aurelia, my love, you're awake. How do you feel?” He came over and sat at the edge of the bed, smiling.

“What happened to me?” you asked.

He took your hand. “Don’t you remember?”

You took a moment to collect your thoughts, “I lost my balance and fainted, but how… when we arrived here?”

“The palace was crowded. I carried you to the carriage and brought you home. However, the palace medicus first assessed your condition to ensure your well-being before we took our leave.”

“I understand your concern, but that was unnecessary. I am feeling quite well now.”

Marcus smiled. “I know you’re a better medicus than he is, but he did say something…”

You loved his smile more than anything, but his amused expression instead of concern made you slightly suspicious.

“What did he say?”

“He mentioned that you might be with child.” He kissed the top of your hand.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. It was rare for this to happen so soon, especially since you were still breastfeeding, but it wasn’t impossible at all. You laughed lightly. “I mean, it’s possible, but it’s too early to say for sure. It must be only a month old at the most.”

He leaned down and kissed you tenderly, first on the lips and then on the cheek. “I love you so much,” he said in a deep voice.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I love you too, my love.”

He kissed you again, wrapping his arm around your waist. As his skin touched yours, you suddenly realized something. “But Marcus…” you mumbled, breaking the kiss. “Why am I wearing nothing? Did you undress me before putting me to bed?”

He laughed. "Your dress was quite dirty, my love. I made you wear something clean, but it was pointless since our son threw up on you. I took your clothes off again and I must admit I enjoyed every minute of it.”

He gently touched your sternum with the back of his hand, causing your heart to race wildly. For a moment, you paused to reflect. He was right; you weren’t quite yourself. You remembered his tears and how Marcus had cradled him in his arms before handing him to you to care for. But he wasn't here now. Marcus must have left him with the girls to look after him.

No wonder why.

“So it’s just the two of us in this room,” you said coyly, your fingers slowly running along the collar of his tunic.

He grinned. “For a moment, I thought you’d never ask.” With that, he kissed you deeply. You sat up in bed, your arms wrapping firmly around his neck. Without breaking the kiss, Marcus boldly lifted the sheet off you, leaving your body completely exposed.

His lips moved to your neck, making your heart race and your stomach flutter. You tilted your head to the side, inviting him to touch more of your skin. He accepted, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your skin. Then, he paused to look into your eyes.

“You were heartbreakingly beautiful all night long. All I wanted was for the damn banquet to be over so I could return home and undress you.” Your cheeks flushed to his words, breathing heavily. ’Seeing all those men staring at you, I wanted to fight them all,’ he said, almost grunting, as he aggressively removed his white tunic. He put one hand on the joint of your knees. “But then I realized I didn’t need to dwell on that. It only reminded me of how fortunate I am.” He slowly slid his hand between your knees, making you to spread your legs.  "It's simply because you belong to me," he teased, his grin growing wider. In response, you let out a soft moan, feeling his long, hard fingers had already found the place you wanted him the most. He settled between your legs and leaned over you. “Tell me, my love, I want to hear you say it. Tell me that you’re mine.”

"I'm yours, Marcus. For all eternity, I shall be yours," you said, your voice warm and breathy, as you yearned for more of his touch. He let out a snicker as he gently ran his fingers through your folds, his fingers moistened by your wetness. "You're already so wet for me, my lady."

You giggled in response and rolled your eyes, biting your lower lip. His words set your body on fire, making you squirm and desperate to feel his fingers deeper inside you. His passionate lips met yours again, and you responded with equal passion, your tongue darting out to meet his as his sharp teeth grazed yours, his tongue exploring your mouth as if for the first time. You moaned, and he grunted, gripping your waist tightly with one hand and pulling you closer, closing the every possible space between you. As he did so, he continued to bite your lip, battling with your tongue.

Then he pulled back and looked down at you, laughing. He loved watching you squirm helplessly under his touch, so he wanted to keep teasing you for a bit longer. He softly brushed his lips over your cheekbones, gliding them from just below your ear down to your neck. You closed your eyes as you felt his warm tongue against your skin, desperately hoping he would soon move down to your breasts. Soon, as if hearing your thoughts, he was licking thin traces of wetness down your neck towards your breasts. But you liked to be teased. You loved it even as you felt your clit ached with jealousy as his tongue paid such loving attention to your breasts. You loved how possessively he clutched a breast in each hand, giving long licks from the sensitive underside of them to the hard nipples at the top.

The way he let you grind against his bare thigh, groaning as you bucked against his hardened lust and leaving streaks of slickness across his skin…

You loved it all so much.

But now it was getting so unbearable that you almost started crying and begging him to take you.

“Marcus, please,” you panted, never wanting him to stop but needing more simultaneously. “I need you.”

He chuckled. “Anything for you, my princess,” he whispered teasingly. His lips let go of your right breast with a loud wet sound - making you cry out in pleasure - before he laved at you again with his tongue.

You moaned as the head of his length rubbed against your clit softly. Your fingers squeezed his upper arms. “K-Keep going, please,” you begged.

“Patience my love.”

Frowning as you responded, “Please,” you whimpered again, your fingers digging into his flesh.

“So needy, I see,” he purred. Another brush over your core, spreading the wetness that dripped there across your skin in an almost burning but delicious way.

Your thighs spread wider as he purposely circled your pearl roughly. A whine left you when his pre-cummed tip ran along your sensitive spot there. Then a shameless groan, coupled with a tongue-biting grin, was ripped from you as he barely let his lust enter your core. Shoulders straining, he gasped and moaned softly as he ran himself along the edge of your entrance.

He pulled out and in one eager thrust, he slid into you once again, stretching you out. As he bottomed out you gasped for air.

“You are mine,” he groaned, “All mine.” Slowly pulling back out only to thrust back in at the same pace. He continued to slowly have you. Never giving you a break, hitting so deep inside you everytime that you nearly saw a set of stars.

"Please, harder," you whimpered. He obeyed, manhandling you to angle your body. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he quickened his pace. Your back arched, and he smiled down at you, continuing to thrust deeper and deeper as he enjoyed your complete surrender to him. Each thrust made you ache as he shoved his length right into that sweet spot inside you. It felt so good to feel him surrounding you, loving you, caressing you…

Soon all of your wild movements had caused you to slide over the silk sheets towards the edge of the bed. He pulled out of you, grabbed your waist with one hand and pulled you towards him, then positioned you again with making sure to wrap your legs around his waist.

Exhaling quickly against your lips, he buried himself inside you again in one smooth, hard thrust and you cried out. You were so wet that the suddenness of it didn't sting, but the insistent burning and stretching inside you made you shiver. He drew back slightly to see your eyes. The way he looked at you made it clear how much he liked seeing you beneath him, fragile, helpless. There was a wild and insatiable lust in those burning eyes, and it was just for you, knowing that it pushed you to the edge even more; you wanted to be his with every inch of your body.

His next thrust was even harder, causing you to dig your nails into his shoulders relentlessly and writhe against him, accepting his challenge without a word. He grinned darkly at you and pounded you in earnest, the sound of skin against skin filling the room He grunted with each thrust, as if fighting something strange and wild, and you found yourself clinging to him with a ferocity that surprised you. You moved against each other as if in competition, desperate for release, but as your orgasm approached, you realized he had no intention of finishing quickly. As you became more insistent, pressing firmly against him each time he withdrew, he shook his head at you as if you were an insolent child. You whimpered and scratched his back while he bit your shoulder and then your neck, leaving you sure it was bruising.

“Is my princess close?” he panted softly.

Nodding frantically, you closed your eyes and gave yourself over to whatever darkness lurked in him, and he toyed with your clit as he made you his. Soon he fell into a hasty rhythm, holding onto your hip with one hand as he teased you with the other.

"Come for me," he whispered huskily into your ear, feeling you shiver at his words. "Give in to me, release for me," he cooed.

You could feel the throb of your heartbeat between your legs, and something hot blossomed there and filled your entire body. Your breath hitched as you came undone beneath him, trembling and twitching weakly, your legs shaking and you screamed his name over and over, which drove him mad. And after only a short few thrusts, he followed after, slamming deep and roaring out as he came. Your shaking turned to moans as you descended from what must’ve been heaven, and you sighed as you felt your warm fluid covering his length, a mixture of both of your liquids running down your thighs. Before you could catch your breath, he embraced you, pulling you closer as he rolled onto his side. You turned your head to him and found his lips as he pulled the sheet and covered your sweaty bodies with it. "I love you, Marcus," you whispered, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

"I love you too, my Aurelia," he replied, kissing you on the temple.

As you surrendered to sleep, his soft voice lingered in the air, murmuring, "You are mine, only mine…”

——

The gentle sounds of birds outside and the warm sunlight streaming through the window played their part, but the real reason you woke up with a smile was the comforting embrace of Marcus. There’s nothing more perfect than waking up each day wrapped in his arms. His warm, sweet breath gently brushed your forehead as your head rested on his arm, and you could breathe in his masculine scent surrounding you. Perhaps it was because he had claimed and marked every inch of your body in his own way last night. Or maybe it was because he had wrapped his arms and legs around you. As you tried to move one of your legs slowly, you felt the weight of his other leg resting over yours. It made shifting a bit difficult, but instead of trying to pull away, you chose to savor that closeness, cherishing the intimacy you shared.

It was so delightful to be held by him in this way that you would do anything to make this moment last forever. You opened your eyes and gazed at him; his eyes were closed, and his peaceful expression brought a smile to your face. You longed to lift the arm you had wrapped around his waist to trace your fingers over his face and beard, but he sighed sleepily and hugged you tighter. He put one hand on your back and pressed you against him, which made your breasts rub against his muscular chest, and It made it difficult for you to move---leaving you at his mercy. You loved his possessive behavior, the way he whined like a spoiled little boy. You felt just as possessive of him; it simply wouldn’t feel whole without that reciprocated sentiment. Together, you were one. It was a love that bound you together, a love that would not fade no matter what happened, a love that made you fall for each other again and again, day after day.

If you couldn't touch him with your fingers, you had another idea. You raised your head slightly and rubbed your nose against his chin. A curl appeared at the corner of his lips, evolving into a smile as he opened her eyes. For a while, you communicated only with your eyes, feeling each other's breath on your skin. Marcus then grinned as he felt your wetness with his upper leg. He teased you with his leg, stroking your folds. You bit your bottom lip and let out a soft little moan, which made him get hard instantly. His soft gaze changed and he rolled over on the bed, getting himself above you. “How about a morning glory, princess?” he murmured, kissing you and making you giggle, which turned into a muffled sound in your throat. He put his hands on either side of you and spread your legs with his other knee roughly. Without breaking the kiss, he settled between your legs and slid himself inside you smoothly. You let out a muffled moan, the kiss paused but did not break, his lips were still determined not to let go of yours, not yet. His thrusts deepened and his pace quickened as you wrapped your arms around his neck and ran your fingers through his grey curls. As his pace became more brutal, he whispered some filth in your ear, which made you giggle mischievously. With each thrust, you could feel your walls tighten around him, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You loved how he felt inside you, loved how his lust had molded your insides to fit him and only him. Your orgasm washed over you, and you couldn’t help the full-body shudder that overtook you as you came.

“My love, my princess,” he repeated over and over as you cried out his name, heat consuming your body, his hands gripping your hips to keep you grounded. You leaned, pulled him to you and kissed him passionately. He groaned as he felt your sweet tongue on his neck trailing down to his collarbone. and it followed a bite, and all it takes is a singular moment for him to let go. Soon, Marcus’ cum spurted in you, coating your tight walls, and the sensation of his hot seed filling you up was all it took for you to come for him once again. The moment you came together was magical and sacred. The warmth of pure sunshine, the thrill of raw emotion, and the bliss of true ecstasy. He collapsed limply on top of you, his insatiable lust still inside you, you could feel it softening, but only for now.

You were both drenched in sweat as you descended from the heights of your passion. He pulled you close again, kissing you with the urgency of a drowning man. He lingered inside you for a while longer, and you savored the warmth of his arms around you. You enjoyed this perfect morning for a little while longer until you realized that you needed a refreshing bath.

——

That week was quite busy. Marcius was a bit fussy than usual, and a few days later, when the tip of a tiny bottom tooth appeared in his little jaw, you were so happy that you could hardly wait for the evening to show it to Marcus as soon as he came home. When the dizzy spells followed by nausea started later that week, you knew for sure that you were with child; again. You felt excited but also a bit worried as you remembered the labor pains and felt nervous about going through them again. As a medicus, you knew that the first labor is always the hardest and that subsequent ones tend to get easier. So you only hoped it would be easier this time.

In the upcoming days, your aunt Antonia has requested your assistance in supporting Paulina during her labor. She gave birth to a healthy baby girl with light brown hair, just like hers, and she was simply beautiful. Although her husband was a bit disappointed that it wasn't a boy, he fortunately kept his feelings to himself and didn't upset Paulina. You couldn't help but recall what Marcus had mentioned before the birth—he was probably the only man you knew who actually wanted a girl. It was no surprise that each day you found new reasons to be grateful for him; he truly was the perfect man, husband, and father.

During that week, he was quite busy as well. He was implementing several changes within his Legates in preparation for a possible war. He and Geta had decided to increase the number of troops in the Fields of Mars and had also raised their annual pay, along with that of the Praetorians. The Legions and the Guards were satisfied with these changes.

However, some consuls and officials from the upper classes were unhappy and frustrated that their earnings were equal to those of the legates. Geta's military strategy helped prevent any major protests, and ultimately, Rome was well governed. The people were happy and hopeful, which was what truly mattered—their emperor had kept his word.

Of course, it was impossible to please everyone. Some individuals were unhappy that the new empress was of Greek descent, but those were merely rumors. With a formidable military force in the city, led by a competent commander like General Acacius, the possibility of a revolt was not a concern.

During that week, Marcus came home late every night. No matter how tired he was, he prioritised spending warm and intimate moments with you. You were very happy about this situation as you missed him during the day and were willing to provide the comfort he needed. Even when he barely spoke afterward, you didn’t feel low. You could just run your fingers through his hair, watch him sleep -while he was still inside you-, and be grateful for how hard he was working for a better Rome and his family.

One morning, you left the villa with Decima and Norell to visit the market and shops. With Decima and Octavius’ wedding approaching, you wanted everything to be perfect for them. Octavius was prepared to make several changes to his modest home to ensure Decima's happiness. At the market, you purchased some plants and fabric. The slaves already bought food and provisions each week, and some of it was sent to the poorhouse. However, you also decided to assist lower-class families, including those of soldiers who had lost their lives in service to the army. Marcus was pleased with your generosity, as everyone spoke of you with praise and gratitude; he felt the most pride and satisfaction in your efforts.

After completing your shopping at the market, you spotted Hanno as you made your way toward the carriage waiting for you at the end of the street. He was in a caged carriage, similar to the one you had seen last time. You felt a strong urge to run toward him, but you were aware that people might recognize you and gather around, so you decided to walk calmly back to the carriage with the girls.

“My lady, I think they’re taking him to a fight. We’d better not go,” Norell expressed her concern.

“Do they bet on the fighters? What if we placed a bet on him? Maybe that way he could gain his freedom faster?” you suggested.

The girls exchanged nervous glances.

You ordered the coachman to stop by the gladiator school.

“This may not be a place for women,” Decima said anxiously.

"I'm not an ordinary woman; they'll let me in," you said confidently.

However, when you arrived at the gate, you learned that there was no fighting that day. While the girls waited for you in the carriage, you went inside the Ludus Magnus to meet Hanno, accompanied by a guard. When you saw Hanno, he had some blood on him.. Apparently, he had been called in to treat one of the gladiators.

"So now you're both a famous medicus and a gladiator,” you teased.

"I suppose so," he replied with a grin. "And how are you feeling? You didn’t look well that day."

Your swallowed. "Well, I'm alright now—I'm with child, so that's why..."

He raised his eyebrows. "Didn’t you just give birth?"

His insinuating tone made your cheeks turn red as you averted your gaze.

He squinted at the burly men passing behind him, who were watching you intently. “Anyway, I suppose it’s none of my business. You’d better leave before your husband finds out you’re here, or I might end up with more patients to treat,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes, then touched his shoulder. ‘Hanno, I'll make sure you're free. Please wait a little longer.’

“Damn, girl, you're as stubborn as ever.” He smiled, and you smiled back, remembering the old days.

‘Hey Hanno! Where the hell are you? I need your help over here. This man thinks himself as emperor, whining about—" The man looked at you with wide eyes. When he realized who you were, he bowed his head, feeling embarrassed for using such words in your presence. "My lady."

At that moment, you had a brilliant idea. But first, you needed to speak with Geta about it. You left Hanno's side and walked to the carriage. The girls were relieved to see you.

“Good thing you didn’t get into trouble like last time,” Decima whined. 

“Ugh! I’ve never seen the General so angry as he was that night. I was shaking with fear,” Norell added. 

But you weren’t listening to them; you were thinking about how to carry out your plan. 

Suddenly, you called out to the coachman, “Take us to Palatine Hill!” 

The girls’ eyes widened in surprise. “Aurelia...” 

“My lady...” 

They protested in unison. 

“Girls, please calm down. I have everything under control.”

"You said that before you went to the popina that day and before you decided to spy on the general at the whore house, too," Decima whined. "Trouble always seems to find you, my lady, and it’s the general who ends up angry."

You laughed confidently. "I’m the one who brings him back to calm. So don’t worry. I assure you, there won’t be any trouble this time.”

However, a short while later, as your carriage turned into a narrow street, the sound of a few horses neighing echoed nearby, and the carriage came to a halt. It became clear that reaching Palatine Hill in time was impossible, which filled you with concern.

“Decima, you mentioned trouble, and it seems trouble has indeed found us,” Norell said anxiously.

“What have I done wrong now?” you replied.

“Shh!” You hushed them and peered out of the small window to see what was happening. The silence made you more nervous, but you were soon both relieved and surprised to see a horse ahead with a person jumping over it.

Marcus opened the carriage door and poked his head inside.

“General,” the girls greeted him, just as surprised as you were.

He turned to you. “My lady.”

“Marcus? Why are you…?”

He glanced at the girls. “Could you leave us alone for a moment?”

The girls quickly obeyed his request and went outside. Marcus then came in and took a seat across from you.

“Are you following me now?” you asked sarcastically. “Don't you trust me anymore?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why? Did you do something to get in trouble again?” He smiled at you.

Had he seen you meet with Hanno? If he knew, he would be angry, so he must not. “No, of course I didn't,” you said, avoiding his gaze.

He leaned closer and placed his hand under your chin, reading your expression. “So, why did you stop by the Ludus Magnus then?”

You swallowed hard. “Well, I... I only spoke to Hanno, but it was very short.” You squinted at him. “How do you know that? Did you really follow me? Isn’t that a bit overprotective, even for you, General? Besides, didn't you mention that you'd be too busy in the barracks?"

He grinned. “I did follow you, that’s true, but not because I didn’t trust you.”

“Then why?”

He sighed and said, "Aurelia, I've been working on a plan for a while now, and when you went out today, I decided it was the right time to put it into action."

 

"What plan? I don't understand.”

"Pretty soon, we'll go to Palatine Hill and get rid of Julia once and for all."

"What does that mean? Marcus, what exactly are you planning?" you asked, your concern growing.

"We've been tracking her for some time. She's sent her men from Leptis Magna, and..." Suddenly, his expression darkened. You knew that look; something had enraged him. "She intended to have you killed. Today, they were supposed to intercept the carriage."

You froze. Although it wasn't surprising that she would want that, the realization still sent shivers down your spine.

"How could you possibly know that?" Your voice cracked as you spoke. Marcus took hold of your hands.

"We knew because of our plan. Geta is in the other carriage—the one they thought you were in. I wanted him to see for himself how far his mother would go so he could deliver the judgment she deserved. It might not have been as effective if we had told him directly. After all, she is his mother."

"But why didn't you tell me anything?" you asked, confusion lacing your voice.

"We didn't want you to be preoccupied with it."

"You said 'we'..."

"Your Aunt Antonia... It was mostly her idea. She's a clever woman, and she hates Julia more than anyone else."

You frowned. "You made a plan with Aunt Antonia, and you didn’t tell me?"

"My love, you're with our child. I didn't want you to worry for no reason. The only reason I agreed to the plan is that I’m here with you now. Octavius is doing what needs to be done.”

“Will Julia be caught as a certain culprit? You should have been there.”

“How can I go when I don't know if you'll be safe? It's out of the question.”

“What if the plan doesn't work?”

“I don't care, as long as you're safe.” He kissed your hand.

“So you made a great plan, but you risked it to keep me safe…” You murmured, touching his face. “But if I had known, I would have gone along with the plan too, to help you.”

His expression turned serious, almost angry. “Are you suggesting I would use you as bait? Do you really think I would ever put your life at risk for a plan with uncertain outcomes? You are my reason for living, the mother of my children, my one and only love.”

He knelt down and grasped your ankle, pulling up the hem of your dress. “I still want you to promise me that you'll carry this for a while, just in case,” he murmured, placing the knife sheath just above your ankle. You nodded. “Alright, I promise.”

A moment later, the sound of a horse's neighing was heard, and shortly after, Octavius came to your side. “Sir, I am pleased to inform you that the plan was executed successfully; Lady Domna arrived in person, as we had anticipated.”

“What did Geta do when he saw his mother?”

“As you can imagine, he became very angry and had her arrested immediately.”

“Good. Now, wait for my word to carry out the next part of the plan. You may go.” 

He nodded and walked away. You could hear him talking with Decima outside.

"What is the other part of the plan? The most Geta can do to punish his mother is to exile her."

"Julia will die as soon as she leaves Roman soil," he said sharply.

"I see," you murmured; you were certain he had already tasked his men for it.

He sat down beside you and wrapped his arm around you. "She has to die, my love. I am certain she will not stop until she has killed you and our son. As long as she lives, you will always be in danger. What she did to your mother is reason enough for her to deserve to die, alone. It’s my duty to protect my family from harm, and I will.” 

“I know you will.” 

He looked into your eyes, pulled you close, and kissed you tenderly, as if sealing the vow he had just made.

The sound of footsteps outside made you break the kiss. It was Cato; he and Octavius were talking urgently, visibly worried. Marcus stepped out of the carriage and helped you down.

“Cato, is something wrong? You’re supposed to be in the barracks,” Marcus said.

“Sir, it’s urgent. A messenger pigeon just arrived. And the seal on it...” Cato murmured.

Marcus took the letter from Cato’s hand and examined the seal. It was one he had never seen before.

“Elagabalus had his own seal prepared,” he said with a troubled sigh.

“How can that be, sir?” Octavius asked.

You were all surprised and intrigued by the message, yet it was unmistakably clear that the letter bore troubling news. In a fit of anger, Marcus picked up the seal and threw it to the ground. He silently read what was written, and his anger intensified. No one dared to ask what it said until you touched his shoulder gently.

“What does it say, General?” you asked softly, your curiosity evident in your voice.

Marcus took a deep breath.. "He wants me to recognize him as emperor and to depose and arrest Geta."

—-

Chapter 23: Farewell

“Prope quaere amicum, propius hostem”

Seek your friend near, your enemy closer.

 

When you arrived at Palatine Hill with Marcus, you noticed that Geta's imperial carriage had already arrived. As soon as you stepped into the courtyard, Commander Darius recognized you and approached. He informed Marcus that Julia and Geta were already in the great hall, clearly aware of the plan as well.

As you made your way toward the hall, Marcus and you heard voices coming from inside. He muttered, “Your Aunt Antonia must be here already.” He then quickened his pace.

“Why would she come here?” you asked.

Marcus glanced at you as the guards opened the door. “You'll find out soon enough, my lady. Don’t tire yourself; I’ll handle the talking,” he said, stepping in ahead of you.

As you entered, everyone turned to look at you. It was clear that Geta and his mother were in the middle of an argument. Your aunt was standing on the right side of the hall, with two members of the Senate. After exchanging a glance with Marcus, she looked at you and smiled, but you couldn't smile back; the tension in the hall was palpable, making it impossible not to feel it.

“You!” Julia pointed her finger at Marcus, her anger palpable. “You all played a game against me! How dare you!” Then she turned to you, her body trembling with rage. “It’s all your fault!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. In a swift motion, she grabbed the sword from the waist of one of the guards beside her. The guard was taken by surprise; perhaps it was Julia’s authority as empress that caused him to hesitate for that brief moment. But by then, it was too late for him to realize he had made a mistake.

Yes, it was a mistake that he allowed her to easily draw his sword from his belt while she attempted to attack you with it. However, this action was absurd and futile, especially considering that Marcus was standing right next to you. Before you could even react to Julia’s clumsy attack, Marcus quickly grabbed your wrist, pulled you behind him, and stood in front of you as a shield. Meanwhile, Geta firmly grabbed her mother by the arm and shook her until she dropped the sword.

“What do you think you’re doing? How far are you going to go? Are you really my mother? Look at you! I can’t even recognize you! You’ve lost it!” Geta roared.

“Can’t you see they set me up? And all because of this girl!” She pointed a finger at you, and you reacted by rolling your eyes.

“Enough!” Geta shouted, enraged.

Your aunt Antonia looked at you and Marcus, then breathed a sigh of relief before turning to Julia. "You speak as if we were holding you responsible for something you didn't do, Lady Domna. Did you think you wouldn't be held accountable for your actions? Your day of judgement has come; you can no longer escape justice. You will pay for what you have done. All of Rome will know what you have done to my sister, and your reputation will be ruined.”

For some reason, you found a strange satisfaction in the desperation in Julia’s gaze as she glanced at the council members beside her. After all, she deserved it.

Antonia continued, addressing the council members. “Your Majesty, the consuls, who are close friends of your father, are here to testify about your mother’s involvement in the death of my sister, Empress Marciana.”

"Tell me everything; I want to know it all,” Geta said, casting you an evasive look. It was clear that he was very upset about the terrible actions his mother had taken. One by one, the consuls recounted what Julia had done. Hearing the details again made your chest tighten, and your legs trembled. If Marcus hadn't been holding your hand, you might have collapsed. After absorbing what had happened, Geta looked at his mother with a disgusted expression and declared her crimes, pronouncing judgment on her. As a result, Julia was sentenced to exile. You witnessed your aunt’s face as Julia was forced out of the hall by the guards, despite her protests and shouts, and you realized that she was enjoying it. Yes, Julia certainly deserved the punishment, but you couldn't bring yourself to smile with joy at her plight; it felt wrong, especially when Geta appeared so sad.

As Antonia and the council members left the hall, Marcus approached Geta.

“Emperor Geta, I know this might not seem like the perfect moment, but there’s a crucial matter we must discuss—something you need to know.”

Geta frowned as he handed him the message from Elagabalus.

“I’ll be outside,” you said, glancing at the two of them.

“You don’t have to leave, sister. You can stay-”

“With your permission, Your Majesty, I need to speak to my aunt alone.”

He nodded with a smile and began reading the message. You exchanged a look with Marcus, then turned and left the hall, leaving the two of them alone.

Your aunt was outside, talking to two Senate members, and she looked quite pleased. You approached them, “Could you please leave us alone?” You fixed your gaze on them, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with everyone who knew the truth about your mother’s death and had kept it hidden from you all this time.

"Aurelia, my beautiful niece," Antonia said, smiling at you. "I told you we would get rid of Julia, and now we have as I promised. That whore finally got what she deserved.”

"I wish you had told me about the plan; maybe I could have helped." You said, you were curious about her response, but you had a feeling you already knew what she would say. Her answer confirmed your guess.

"You might be right, but your husband, General Acacius, wanted to keep you out of it. He is very protective of you, dear."

"He is indeed.” You nodded. “But I don't think he was pleased when you told him about your plan."

"You're right; he didn't like it, but he also wanted to get rid of Julia. After all, she posed a threat to his own son—and to you, my dear.”

“It’s not hard to imagine how you convinced him. But what if the plan hadn’t worked? What if Geta was someone who didn’t trust Acacius? Have you ever considered what could have happened to my husband then?”

She swallowed and took a deep breath. “I understand your concern, but he values and respects Acacius. Besides, I’m sure he would never do anything to upset you.”

You sighed. “That’s the real reason, isn’t it? You wanted me involved in the plan because you wanted to use his feelings for me to your advantage.”

A confident expression appeared on her face. “If you had gone to Geta and told him everything, he would have believed you, and everything would have been easier. But I knew you wouldn’t do that because I can see that you care about him too. That left me with no choice but to make this plan.”

“You don’t care, do you? Not about Geta’s disappointment, his sadness, or even the danger Acacius has put himself in. All you wanted was Julia.”

“That’s true, and I won’t deny it. Aurelia, all I care about is you and Marcius. Your brother is not someone I will concern myself with, and your husband is a good soldier; he can take care of himself.”

“But he’s the only one I truly care about. Look, you’re my aunt, and I care for you like a mother, but I don’t want you to involve my husband in any dangerous plans without my knowledge again. He’s more precious to me than anyone else, and I’m just as protective of him as he is of me. Please understand that."

Antonia nodded, but her expression was not very pleased.

You soon noticed Nerissa approaching you, accompanied by several slaves. One of them was cradling her son in her arms. You looked at him and smiled.

“My Empress,” you greeted her, and she returned your smile, though it was short-lived. “How is my  little dove?”

You reached out your hands to take the baby from the slave, but she hesitated. It quickly became clear why; she was waiting for Nerissa's approval. After glancing at her, she nodded, and she handed the child to you. You cradled him in your arms and gently stroked his blonde hair. “Is Geta still insisting on not naming him yet?” you asked.

"Hopefully he will soon; it's just not the right time yet. We don't have much alone time, you know. His Majesty has been very busy lately." There was something unsettling in her tone. "By the way, could you tell me what happened to Lady Domna? I'm sure you know why the guards were taking her away, since you're here.”

You kissed your nephew on the head, noticing that he had fallen asleep in your arms. “Geta will tell you all about it; don’t worry about that.”

“I doubt he'll tell me,” she replied, holding out her hands to you. Reluctantly, you handed your nephew over to her mother, wishing you could keep him a little longer. After taking him, she returned him to the slaves and gestured for them to leave. Once she was sure it was just the two of you, she approached you, her expression more serious than you had ever seen before.

“Aurelia, don’t you think you visit him too often these days?”

What was that supposed to mean? I had only seen him once or twice since the wedding.

“I’m not sure how you mean.”

“Let me be absolutely clear. I do not want to see you here. I insist that you refrain from coming unless it is a serious or important matter. This is not good for him, and I am determined to ensure that my marriage remains intact. You understand what I mean, do you not?”

“Nerissa, why are you—”

She interrupted, rolling her eyes."Gods above, Aurelia, don't pretend you don't know how he feels about you. I'm not naive, I can see everything.""Nerissa, I..." You gave a troubled sigh. "Look, he'll realise he's making a mistake eventually. He'll notice your love. You need to be patient and—"

She shook her head. "But that's not going to happen if you're always around him. Help me. Stay away from him. Please.”

She took your hand and looked at you with pleading eyes. “Please, Aurelia.”

Although you were upset, you nodded in response. She quickly pulled her hand back at the sound of approaching footsteps. Marcus was coming toward you, accompanied by Darius. You cast a furtive glance at him, and Nerissa turned away. They both bowed to her as she walked into the great hall. You could sense Marcus's curious gaze upon you, so you took a moment to gather yourself and smiled at him.

“My lady, are you ready to leave now?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yes, General, let’s take our leave, please.”

Darius bowed his head as he departed.

Marcus leaned closer and asked, “Are you not feeling well?”

You took his arm and gently rubbed it with your hand. “It's been a long day. I want to go home and rest.”

He nodded. “Let’s leave then.”

——-

Eight months later.

With each passing day and every fleeting month, your belly swelled and rounded. The gentle kicks and fluttering movements reminded you of the warmth of the little one nestled inside, growing, and so did your son, Marcius. At first, he learned how to sit, then he managed to crawl on the floor, then he managed to stand by holding onto the furniture around him. One day, he finally took his first step toward his father, who was sitting at his desk, smiling widely in return and cheering for him.

His first words also came out slowly during this time. When he called you "mother" for the first time, he may have spoken inaccurately since it sounded like “ma-ma” and probably not consciously, but it was enough to bring you to tears. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard, and you knew it was a moment you would never forget.

When Marcus was at home, he would hold his little hand and take him on fun walks around the villa. They’d often head over to the stables to check out the horses, their shiny coats glimmering in the sun. Those times together were the absolute best, filled with laughter as he soaked up every moment with his son.

The little one, who had nearly all his teeth, seemed to enjoy every bite of food and every morsel. Watching him grow was a real joy, like waking up to a new happiness each day. The villa, which had been quiet, was now full of life. It was alive with giggles and the delightful sounds of a growing child, transforming the space into a vibrant home filled with love and bliss.

As time went on, Marcus found himself extremely busy implementing extensive measures against a potential threat. His diligent efforts succeeded in persuading some of Elagabalus' allies to withdraw their support; however, the threat had not yet been fully neutralized. Consequently, Marcus decided to collaborate with his legates to devise a strategic plan aimed at permanently eliminating the threat. The possibility of war became increasingly apparent and eventually seemed inevitable. After a period of tranquility, a series of disturbing events began to unfold. Elagabalus, with the support of the Carthaginians, re-established alliances with the Gauls to strengthen his position and ultimately succeeded in seizing the southern region, targeting Numidia.

Two months later, following a rebellion in the region, news arrived of the execution of the Roman governor. The Numidians officially recognized Elagabalus as emperor. Unfortunately, this was not the worst of the news; the most troubling information came from the southern legions. All the southern legions, including Marcus' legion, were neutralized, forced into submission.

Marcus was devastated by this news, hardly eating or drinking for two days. You were very concerned for him. With your significant support, he ultimately began to feel better and regained his composure. Subsequently, he proceeded to develop a comprehensive action strategy without delay. He began to visit Palatine Hill and the Fields of Mars nearly every day, often staying until late at night. The situation was more serious than anyone had realized, and if immediate action was not taken, the consequences for Rome could be irreversible.

At that time, news came from Palatine Hill about Geta, who had been poisoned. Marcus spoke with Commander Darius about Geta's condition, recalling similar incidents in the past. They decided to collaborate on a solution before word of this reached the public. You were deeply concerned about Geta and wanted to go and see him, cure him. However, your growing belly and frequent cramps made it difficult for you to do so. Besides, Marcus did not want you to go anywhere after what happened during your last childbirth.

So, you decided to summon Hanno for his healing. Marcus agreed and took him to Palatine Hill himself, knowing that Hanno was better than all the medicii in the palace.

It soon became clear that the poisoning was caused by a fish dish that Geta had eaten, leading to a collective sigh of relief as it was confirmed that the incident was unintentional.

However, everyone involved in cooking and preparing the food was still punished.

You decided to visit Geta because you felt uneasy and were still haunted by Nerissa's recent behavior towards you. She had become a completely different person now, and trust was no longer in the equation. You wanted to believe you were mistaken—maybe you were exaggerating—but deep down, you knew you couldn’t be certain. You recognized that you had a great opportunity to pursue something you had been considering.

You visited him and spoke with Geta about Hanno and asked him to stay in the palace as a medicus. Geta agreed, especially because Hanno was the one who had healed him. However, Hanno initially resisted the idea. When you reminded him that Vicius had once served as a medicus there, he found it hard to refuse and ultimately agreed as well. This duty was perfect for Hanno, as you wanted to ensure he wouldn't be involved in anything that could endanger his life further.

Moreover, you sought to have Hanno at the palace to oversee the well-being of Geta and your nephew, as he would serve as a reliable source of information regarding any potential threats or concerns. Although Marcus was not entirely keen on the idea, he admitted that he was surprised and even looked proud as he complimented you on your intelligence.

It was also during this time that Decima and Octavius were married in a joyous ceremony held in your villa. Decima often came to the villa during the day to see you and Marcius, as her husband had been as busy as yours of late. She was happy to be married, and you were happy to see her so. After that week, the midwife came to examine you and told you that you might go into labour in a fortnight. She was almost sure it would be a girl this time. You didn't like her smug talk, but you felt like you were going to have a daughter, too.

However, it was Marcus who was the happiest about this news.

On a night when the moon hung high in the sky, casting a silver glow that illuminated everything below. You woke up in the quiet, feeling hungry. This discomfort had become a familiar companion, echoing the restless nights that had plagued you of late. Shadows danced across the walls as you blinked your eyes, unable to sleep.

Each night was filled with interruptions. Sometimes, it was the urgent call of nature that pulled you from your sleep; other times, it was the gnawing hunger in your stomach demanding attention. And then there was Marcius, whose cries served as an unmistakable reminder of his needs. Because of this, you often found yourself sleeping during the daylight hours.

You slowly opened your eyes, blinking against the dim glow of the bluish moonlight cascading through the window, filtering softly between the curtains. The light flickered blissfully on the ends of Marcus's curls, creating a halo around his sleeping form, while the shadows obscured the details of his face. You could still make out the gentle rise and fall of his chest, a reassuring rhythm in the tranquil stillness of the night. You sighed, admiring his charm. You could watch him sleeping like that forever.

A sudden heavy pressure stirred deep within your stomach, soon morphing into an overwhelming wave of hunger that washed over you like a tide. With great effort, you propped yourself up in bed, carefully pushing aside one of the pillows that Marcus had arranged under your arm for comfort. Each movement felt cumbersome, the weight of your large belly making even the simplest gestures a challenge. As a sharp cramp seized your stomach, you let out a soft moan, the sound barely escaping your lips. The sound roused Marcus, who, ever the light sleeper, opened his eyes in an instant, concern etching itself across his face.

"My love?’"

"Oh, apologies, I didn’t mean to wake you."

"Do you have to go to the latrina again?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep, eyes blinking slowly as they adjusted to the dimness.

"No, not this time, I...’"

He sat up, the sheets slipping down to his waist, and placed a warm hand on your back, his fingers brushing gently against your skin. "What’s wrong, Aurelia?"

"I can't sleep because I'm hungry," you confessed, your voice almost a whisper, tinged with shyness. It felt strange to mention, especially since it had only been a few hours since dinner.

Marcus chuckled softly. "You're saying that like you’ve committed a crime." He bent down and placed a tender kiss on the top of your head. His masculine scent gave you butterflies in your stomach, but your hunger outweighed your desire. "I’ll get something for you. What does my beautiful wife want to eat?’"

You shrugged pursing your lips. "It doesn’t matter; I just need to fill my stomach."

He grinned as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Alright, I’ll bring you whatever I can find."

As he approached the door, you whispered softly to avoid waking Marcius. "Marcus."

He paused, turning back to look at you.

"Can you get some figs too? I’m craving them."

His laughter rang out like music in the quiet night. "Whatever you wish, my princess.”

Not long afterwards Marcus returned to the room with a tray full of food. You reacted to him by clapping your hands gleefully. "You're the best husband; I am a very fortunate woman indeed."

He sat down beside you and kissed your cheek. "You can't be more fortunate than I am," he replied.

As you enjoyed your meal, he sat beside you, peeled the figs, and placed them in front of you for you to eat. In just a few minutes, you had nearly finished everything on the tray, while Marcus observed you with curiosity and with a smile on his face. Suddenly, you felt a wave of embarrassment. "I ate like a savage, not like a lady, didn't I?”

"And I’m sure I don’t look beautiful like this," you said, teasing him.

You expected him to laugh in response, but instead, his gaze deepened, filled with something more intense. He gently brushed the sticky honey from the corner of your lip with his thumb, an intimate gesture that sent a thrill through you. "On the contrary," he murmured, his voice low and sincere, "I find you even more beautiful like this. You possess a beauty that transcends appearances—one that enchants me in any form.”

You were captivated by his deep, dark brown eyes, and time seemed to stand still as you gazed into their depths. In that moment, the spoon slipped from your grasp, and a golden stream of honey cascaded down onto your upper sternum, gleaming in the soft light. Marcus let out a soft, playful chuckle, his voice a warm whisper that sent shivers down your spine as he leaned closer. The heat of his breath enveloped you, tantalizingly brushing against the delicate skin above your breasts. With deliberate intention, he traced his warm tongue over the honey that had dripped, the sensation igniting a rush of warmth that made your heartbeat quicken and your breathing deepen.

When he pulled away, he grinned and licked his lips. “Mmm, sweet, but nothing compares to the taste of you.” He said, pulling you closer and kissing you. When your tongues touched, you moaned as you could taste the honey on his saliva. You tossed the spoon onto the tray and wrapped your arms around his neck, fully immersing yourself in his embrace. You wondered if he was aware of his own masculine scent and the incredible taste he possessed. Kissing him was so pleasurable that it induced a state of dizzying bliss, as if time itself were slowing down while you explored the depths of his mouth. As your tongue delicately traced the contours of his, he responded with a deep, resonant growl, his hands firmly cradling your hips. Your legs were on either side of him now and you were practically astride him. Your big belly was getting in the way a bit, preventing you from wrapping him completely. But Marcus didn't mind; he wanted you naked and grinding on him straight away, in the most convenient way. He realized he should have approached the moment with more tenderness, yet the intense waves of desire washed over him, leaving him breathless and disoriented. In that instant, he made a decision about perfect position to take you. He pulled his head back, breaking the kiss, his dark brown eyes burning you to the core.

“What is it?” you gasped, your eyes dazzled, your hair a chaotic tangle, partly obscuring your face.

He took your hands, leaned back on the bed, and pulled you down on top of him.

“Lift the hem of your tunic,” he said, his tone almost commanding.

You hesitated for just a moment before you started to gather the fabric.

“Show me,” he urged, breathing heavily. 

You blinked, confused. “What?”    

“Bring it up here.” He licked his lips, and heat flooded your face.

"Um..."

“Come and sit on my face, Aurelia.”  He sounded impatient.

“But Marcus,” You murmured, but he was past caring.    

“Now,” he rumbled deep in his chest.

"Impatient, I see," you giggled. As you lifted the skirts of your tunic, leaving yourself completely exposed from the waist down, he quickly got out of his own clothes and lay back down, even more eager and impatient than before. The dull, almost painful throb of his length needed relief. He took himself in hand and groaned as you parted your knees and showed him your pretty slit.

“Perfect,” he whispered as if he saw for the first time.

Actually, the thing is he couldn't find an oppurtunity to get inside you because he had been incredibly busy for a few days. And that was the only thing he craved right now. “So beautiful.” And it was. So perfect and beautiful that he had to take a deep breath for an instant or he would have released at just the sight of you. He slid his hand up his throbbing shaft and squeezed the tip hard. He didn’t want to spend himself on the sheets, he wanted to release deep inside you, inside his wife.

“Marcus?”   

“Darling wife, have mercy and give me your sweet taste,”  he groaned earthily. 

You whimpered as one of his hands grabbed your hip roughly to urge you over his chest. “What if you can't breathe?" you said, noticing it was a very silly thing to say as you bit your lip. “As you can see, I've gained some weight, and—oh!"

"Then I’ll die very happy," he snarled, moaning against your slippery cunt. You tasted so good. He cursed everything that prevented him from tasting you for days.

What the hell had he been thinking?

He dragged his tongue between your slick folds and over your pretty pearl, again and again, delving into your tight sheathe in a tease that had his cock twitching in anticipation. Your wetness maddened him. He held your hips tight as he licked and sucked your cunt, pushing his tongue deeper and deeper. He often whispered how much he loved the sweet, heady taste of you and your cheeks still burned as if you were hearing it for the first time. As you watched the slickness run down his cheeks and glisten on his beard, your shame turned to desire and your skin felt like it was on fire. You moaned as he thrust two fingers inside you, feeling the pressure of his signet ring. It was too much and not enough, the feeling you never wanted to end. You instinctively bent down and grabbed the roots of his hair as his tongue tormented you.

Soon, you found your release, screaming his name as you came. He still hadn’t had his fill when he heard your wail and felt your convulsing around his swirling tongue. Slick gushed from between your cunt, the sheer sensation of it taking your breath away.

He pulled his soaking fingers from you and licked them clean. "My lovely princess," Marcus murmured, his lips red and slightly swollen from his rapt attention to your cunt.

He crawled up and made you sit on his lap, making you wrap your legs around him.

He grinned at your big belly. "Will you be comfortable if I take you like this?" He asked softly, drawing kisses across your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, and your plump lips, while his fingers gripped the straps of your tunic tightly and pulled the fabric down your shoulders.

You nodded while tasting yourself as his tongue slipped between your lips, tangling with your own. He held you close as he rolled onto his back and positioned you above him. You were wet enough to straddle him, rubbing yourself against his length, making him groan. You had to stifle your own scream, remembering you were not alone in the room as you pressed yourself against him. You liked to ride him a lot, enjoying how his hands supported your hips and how deep his cock felt inside your walls.

He was too, enjoying a lot as he rocked his hips against yours, feeling as if he was much younger than he was. There were almost two decades between you, his hair showing silver streaks that marked his age as just over forty, while you were only two years past girlhood. He was so eager and strong in making love to you that his age was no obstacle to him. That was something that would never tire him out, not ever. Yet, he often found himself wishing that he had crossed paths with you during his younger years. For him, every single day without your presence, even those from the past, was nothing but wasted.

Even now, when you were on top of him and he was thrusting himself deeper and deeper into you, kneading your breasts possessively, you could see it in his movements. There was no need for words; his brown eyes revealed his thoughts and emotions with every glance, which only you could truly understand. It wasn’t surprising that his feelings mirrored your own. You were both aware that this could be the last time you shared such intimacy, especially considering the imminent arrival of your second child. As you came together, your pleasure intertwined, and soon you found yourself savouring the last traces of your pleasure when, suddenly, your womb convulsed, and Marcus caught you with a firm grip, preventing you from slumping onto the bed. He sighed as he placed his palm on your chest, feeling the rapid beat of your heart beneath his hand. Gently, he laid you down on the bed and adjusted the pillow under your neck for your comfort. As he spread the sheet over you, he noticed soft movement on your belly, a tender reminder of the life within. He placed his warm hand above your tummy, his touch soothing as he began to speak softly to the little one growing inside you. Gradually, you felt a wave of fatigue wash over you, and with each soothing word of his, you surrendered to the gentle pull of sleep, lulled by the serenity of his presence and the rhythm of his voice.

—-

The next day, Cato arrived at the villa early to deliver news, and Marcus left without even having breakfast. Marcius reacted to his father's departure by crying, so you took him to the stables to calm him down. He had been behaving this way lately; he loved spending time with his father and seemed so happy when they were together. However, whenever his father left the house, he would start to cry. You kept telling him that one day, when he was older, he could go outside with his dad, but he was too young to understand that yet. When his father returned home in the evening, holding him in his arms, Marcius was the happiest he could be. It was heartwarming to see them together like that.

In the afternoon, you sent someone to Palatine Hill to fetch Hanno. You needed to speak with him to find out how Geta was doing. With the birth approaching, you didn't want to leave the house, especially since Nerissa preferred you to stay inside. You had only seen Geta a few times after Julia's funeral, and the last time you spoke with him about Hanno was almost a month ago. He hadn't looked well during that conversation, and you often found yourself worrying about him.

As you were feeding Marcius some fruit, you heard a horse neighing outside, and soon after, Hanno appeared in the courtyard. He smiled as he looked at you and Marcius.

“Hanno, or should I call you Lucius now?” you asked.

He grinned. “I still can't get used to that name.”

You pointed to the lectus and gestured for him to sit. “You’re a Roman citizen now; you should get used to it.”

He took his bag off his shoulder, sat down across from you, and sighed. “It still feels like a joke,” he said, waving his hand at Marcius.

“You've grown a lot since I've seen you, little man,” you replied.

Marcius mumbled something and handed Hanno a grape. Lucius smiled at him as he put the grape in his mouth and chewed it. Marcius clapped, and you joined in the laughter.

“He likes you,” you said.

Lucius reached out, picked him up, and sat him on his lap. “I like him too.” He then looked at your belly. “How do you feel?”

“I'm fine; I'm just having trouble sleeping.”

“What does the midwife say? Is everything going well?”

‘Nothing to worry about. “We’re just waiting now; let’s hope Marcius’ brother or sister arrives soon.”

Lucius opened his bag and took out a wooden carved toy horse, giving it to Marcius. “Here, little friend. I made this for you.”

Marcius seemed happy as he held the wooden toy.

You smiled at him. “That’s very nice, Lucius. Thank you.” You turned Marcius, softly rubbing his head. “Did you like it, my beautiful boy?”He showed the toy, murmured something, and repeatedly bumped it against the floor while playing in his own way.

Lucius reached back into his bag. “Your brother Geta wanted me to give this to you. He said it’s for Marcius.” He held out something wrapped in cloth, and as he handed it to you, a soft tinkling sound emerged from within. You unwrapped the cloth and discovered a pair of gold bracelets along with a note.

“These bracelets were the first gifts my father, Septimius Severus, bestowed upon me. I am passing them on to my nephew, so he can wear them as he grows into a remarkable young man.”

You took a moment to reflect as you examined the bracelets. They exhibited a level of elegance and were embellished with meticulous craftsmanship that is typically reserved for members of royalty, particularly a prince.

Lucius leaned toward you.

“Are you alright?”

You didn’t realize you were crying until he asked. You nodded as you wiped away your tears. “I just realized I miss Geta; it’s been a long time. Is he doing well?”

He looked away.

“Has something happened to him?” You suddenly noticed you were short of breath, which had been happening a lot lately.

"Calm down, Aurelia. He is well. He has been getting tired recently, and there have been a lot of consuls coming and going from the palace. I saw them arguing with the empress the other day."

"Why were they arguing?"

"I'm not certain, but there are a lot of rumors about them. Slaves love gossip."

"What rumors?"

“Nonsense, don't worry about it right now.”

“Please, tell me.”

He huffed in response. “They claim they don’t sleep in the same room, you know. It’s probably a lie—just stupid gossip.”

You wondered why Nerissa would treat Geta that way.

“What about my nephew?”

“He's fine, don’t worry. He seems to be getting ready to take his first step, but he’s not as eager as Marcius,” he said, stroking her head.

“I miss him so much,” you said, pursing your lips.

“Please be patient a little longer. Do not attempt to go anywhere in this situation.”

“That’s why I sent for you,” you replied, laughing at him.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure if I’m a fighter, a medicus, or your informant anymore.”

You squinted at him. “Or, are you unhappy serving your princess?”

He grinned. “Not at all, your highness. But now that I’m free, I say I...”

“What is it?”

"I want to return to Alexandria," he said in a low tone.

You felt a tightness in your chest. "What? But why? Aren't you happy here?"

"I am, but they say the whole southern region is about to erupt in chaos soon, and there’s someone I need to see. I have to show her that I’m still alive."

You raised an eyebrow. "Her? Someone special, I suppose?"

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, breaking into a shy laugh. "You could say that."

"I see. It's your decision, after all. You're a free man now."You smiled at him faintly, even though your heart felt heavy.

But then, an unexpected sharp pain sliced through your lower abdomen. A contraction gripped you, and your breath caught in your throat.

"Aurelia?" Concern laced his voice.

"Just a contraction," you managed to say between gasps, your breaths coming quicker as you closed your eyes tightly, willing the pain to pass. Yet, to your dismay, a sharper wave of agony crashed over you.

Norell saw you from a distance and rushed toward you. “Domina! My lady!”

It didn't take long for you to realize what was happening as the contractions became stronger and closer together, now even intensified. "The baby's coming," you said with a troubled grin.

Lucius took your other hand. "Are you certain?"

You nodded. "I'm absolutely certain, Lucius!" you shouted, gripping his hand tightly as another contraction struck, sending incredible pain through you. You looked at him with urgency.

"Get the midwife in here!"

The other slaves exchanged worried glances, but then they hurried off towards the quarters where the midwife was staying.

“Can you make it up the stairs, my lady?” one of them asked, eyes wide with concern. You groaned loudly, the sound reverberating through the room as you steadied yourself to stand. “I think I can,” you replied through gritted teeth, summoning every ounce of strength within you. In a swift and decisive movement, Lucius scooped you into his arms, lifting you and carrying you up the stairs.

“You stay with Marcius here!” you shouted to Norell, who nodded in response. You forced a warm smile at Marcius who gazed at you with curious wide eyes, his little brow furrowed with concern.

When Lucius entered the room, he laid you on the bed and propped up several pillows behind you. Moments later, two slaves entered alongside the midwife, their expressions a mix of determination and concern. Then Tullia rushed in, her breath coming in quick, anxious bursts. “My lady!”

“Tullia! I need you to summon my husband immediately!” you commanded.

“I will tell them now, my lady,” Tullia replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “But it may take some time before the general arrives; he mentioned he would be at the barracks.”

“I'll go and fetch him,” Lucius said, his demeanor reassuring. “You don’t need to concern yourself with anything else, alright?”

You reached for his hand, held it tightly. “Thank you, Lucius.”

He smiled at you before leaving room.

The midwife bent down to examine you and asked for permission before lifting your skirts.

“Labour has begun, my lady. We must get ready at once.” She looked at the slaves. “Prepare hot water and clean cloths immediately!”

The slaves scurried from the room, their footsteps echoing as they hurried to fulfill her commands, the tension in the air thickening with each passing second.

“I can’t do this without my husband,” you whimpered. “I need him to be by my side.”

“But I’m afraid the baby can’t wait much longer,” the midwife replied gently, her voice like a soft balm against your fraying nerves. You nodded, swallowing your worry as you desperately wished for Lucius to bring Marcus with him soon.

—-

 

The soldiers on guard at the imposing entrance gate of the barracks stood alert as they caught sight of a horse and its rider approaching. One of them raised his spear high, the metal glinting in the sun, and shouted, “Halt! Stop right there!”

Lucius expertly pulled on the reins, and the horse reared up, its legs striking the air as he steadied himself. The soldiers scrutinized him intently, their eyes narrowing as they took in his dusty cloak and determined expression.

“No civilians allowed here! Turn back now!” one soldier barked, his voice harsh and commanding.

Lucius met their gazes defiantly, his eyes ablaze with urgency. “I need to see General Acacius! This is important!”

“Are you deaf?” the first soldier snapped back, annoyance creeping into his tone.

The second soldier, sensing the tension, placed a hand on his friend's shoulder to calm him. “Tell us what you need to say; we’ll deliver the message to the general,” he suggested, his voice slightly softer but still firm.

Lucius shifted his mount, turning slightly towards the sturdy wooden doors of the barracks. He refused to dismount, his resolve unwavering despite the soldiers’ barriers. Every second felt precious.

“It’s urgent!” he declared, frustration lacing his words. “What part of that don’t you understand?”

At that moment, a commanding voice echoed from inside the barracks, issuing the order to swing open the heavy iron gate. The soldiers, clad in shining armor that reflected the afternoon sun, moved purposefully toward the entrance. Centurion Verus and a man who Lucius didn't recognise came outside. They were deeply engrossed in hushed whispers, so preoccupied with their conversation that they failed to notice Lucius standing nearby.

“Make sure Acacius doesn’t find out,” Verus murmured, his brow furrowed with concern. "That man is exceptionally clever, which makes me uneasy."

“Don’t worry, sir; everything is going as we discussed,” the other man assured him.

Suddenly, Verus's sharp gaze locked onto Lucius, his body tensing. “What are you looking at?” he snapped, his voice laced with an edge of hostility.

Lucius turned his eyes away; he didn't care about their conversation at all. All he wanted was to reach Acacius, no matter what. Other soldiers brought their horses forward, and Verus and his companion glanced at Lucius before spurring their horses into a rush, dust swirling around their departing figures.

"General Acacius!" Lucius' booming voice through the gate enraged the soldiers.

"How dare you shout like that?"

"I'll cut out that tongue of yours!"

It wasn't the general himself, but someone whom Lucius recognized with relief.

“What is going on here? What is this disgrace?” Octavius barked, a mix of surprise and annoyance crossing his face as he recognized Lucius. “What brings you here?”

“Sir, he insists that he must see the general—”

“Octavius, this is urgent! The general needs to come with me to the villa immediately!”

The soldiers exchanged bewildered glances, their expressions shifting from curiosity to shock as Lucius addressed the general's right-hand man by name. They were further taken aback when Octavius, instead of erupting in anger, maintained an air of smug indifference.

“General Acacius is quite busy at the moment. Just tell me what it is,” Octavius replied, dismissively waving a hand.

Lucius, frustration etched across his face, could no longer contain himself. With a low curse, he dismounted his horse and strode purposefully toward Octavius.

“Aurelia. Lady Aurelia is in labor and has sent for her husband,” he said, lowering his voice and raising his eyebrows for emphasis.

Octavius's entire demeanor shifted at that moment; he went from appearing brave to displaying a sense of urgency as he turned on his heel and rushed back to find Acacius.

—-

The sun was setting as Marcus, Octavius, and Lucius arrived at the villa. While another day came to an end in the city, a new life was about to begin in the villa.

Marcus dismounted from his horse with a rush of excitement, his feet pounding against the cobblestone courtyard as he hurried forward. The urgency of his steps left Octavius and Lucius struggling to keep pace, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern.

Entering the villa, Marcus was immediately met with the startling sound of your anguished cries emanating from upstairs. His heart seized with apprehension, compelling him to dash towards the stairs. Just then, a shrill, yet joyous, baby cry echoed through the corridors, freezing him in his tracks. A broad smile broke across his face as he turned to share this precious moment with Octavius and Lucius, who mirrored his elation.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Marcus raced up the stairs. Bursting into the room, his eyes were drawn to a vision of beauty: a delicate infant cradled in Norell's arms. The soft glow of the dim light highlighted her velvety pink skin and wisps of golden hair that fluttered gently around her tiny head, leaving him utterly mesmerized.

“It’s a girl, General,” Norell announced with a note of triumph in her voice.

A wave of emotion washed over Marcus as he contemplated her words. “A girl,” he thought, his gaze locked on the enchanting child. “A very beautiful girl, just like her mother...” He felt warmth fill his heart, knowing their family was blossoming once more.

Her mother...

He longed to see you before cradling the newborn, but his heart nearly seized as he caught sight of your closed eyes and the deep concern appeared on the midwife's face. “What’s happening? Why are her eyes closed?” he demanded, a frown shadowing his brow as he noticed the blood-soaked cloths clinging to your body while he hurried towards you. “General, it was a very difficult labor,” the midwife replied, her voice trembling as she fought to maintain her composure. “She lost a lot of blood and must be utterly exhausted.” As Marcus pushed the damp hair from your forehead, the beads of sweat cascading down your face, he called your name softly. But when you remained unresponsive, his concern transformed into palpable desperation.

“She’s not herself! Do something!” His voice erupted, a roar of anguish that reverberated through the room. The midwife touched your cheek with tentative fingers, her heart racing as she swallowed hard.

“My lady!”

Suddenly, the joyful atmosphere in the room shifted to one of concern. Upon hearing the sounds, Lucius hurried upstairs and appeared in the doorway. Marcus looked at him urgently, “Do something, please!”

Lucius quickly approached, opening his bag to retrieve several vials and some cloth. The midwife and the others watched him anxiously, including Norell, who appeared at the door, cradling Marcius in her arms.

Marcus sank onto the edge of the bed beside you, gripping your hand with a fierce intensity that reflected the crushing weight of his helplessness. The world around him blurred, leaving only your still form in focus, and his heart felt as if it were being wrenched apart. “No... Aurelia, please... my love... please...” he whispered, his voice thick with despair; your motionless figure was like a dagger to his soul.

Lucius was taken aback by Marcus's sorrow. In his past as a medic, he had witnessed men shed tears over the woman he loved, but this was unlike anything he had ever seen before. What could make such a strong, sturdy man so miserable if not pure love itself? A love so profound and great that it cast doubt on Lucius's very own affections for the woman he cherished. Fortunately, there was no loss yet. He probed the vein in your neck and was relieved to find a sign that you were alive. He sighed deeply. “She has a pulse, but it’s weak,” he murmured.

“What do you mean? Tell me she's alright!"

Ignoring the urgency in Marcus's tone, Lucius uncorked one of the vials, releasing a pungent aroma that hung in the air. He carefully soaked a rag with the strange liquid and brought it close to your face. At that moment, Marcius looked up and said, “Ma-ma.”  The room fell silent; everyone turned to him, tears brimming in their eyes, including Marcus, as hope flickered faintly amidst their despair.

—-

You came to your senses, jolted by a pungent and unpleasant odor that clawed at your nostrils. The sharp scent stirred something deep inside you, and as a medicus, you instantly recognized its purpose.

When you finally opened your eyes, your surroundings came into focus, revealing Marcus' concerned face hovering closely above you. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest as you spotted a single tear glistening on his cheek, cascading down the rugged line of his scar like a painful memory trying to escape.

“Marcus! Why are you...?" you began to ask, but the words faded as vivid images of your last moments rushed back. Panic surged through you, and you gasped. “Has something happened to my baby?”

He gently pressed his hands against your shoulders, stopping your attempt to sit up. His warm embrace wrapped around you like a shield, and he exhaled a shaky breath, burying his face in your hair as he planted plenty of soft kisses on the top of your head.

“The child is fine, my lady. Please don’t worry,” the midwife replied.

Everyone seemed unusual; something had definitely happened. However, once you saw that the baby was well, you didn’t care what it was. You felt incredibly tired to care though.

“Just concentrate on being well yourself,” Lucius said.

You smiled weakly; he was right. He then stood up—being a medicus, he knew what the midwife had to do next. Everyone left the room except for Marcus and midwife. As the midwife carefully wiped the remnants of your labor away with warm, clean water and soft cloths, the slaves rushed to spread fresh, crisp sheets on the bed with deft hands.Through it all, Marcus kept his arms wrapped around you, his grip unyielding and protective. When the time came to dress you in fresh clothes, it was he who gently assisted, his fingers brushing your skin with the tenderness of a feather.

After nursing the baby for the first time, he helped you ease onto the soft bed, then settled in beside you. “You frightened me so much, Aurelia. For a moment, I thought I had lost you,” he whispered, his voice trembling. His fingers danced through your hair, caressing it softly as if he were untangling not just the strands but also the worries that clung to you. Snuggling closer, you nestled your head against his warm collarbone, finding solace within his embrace.

"The baby's neck was wrapped around the cord, and the midwife and I fought desperately to free her. I felt such relief when I finally heard her cry, but exhaustion washed over me, and I must have lost consciousness. Please, don’t worry; we’re both fine now.”

“Thank the gods, my love,” he murmured. “They have spared your life and our daughter’s. I’ve traveled through hell and back to heaven in a single day.”

You kissed his cheek, then turned your head to check Marcius, who was mumbling sweet nothings in his sleep, and then at your daughter— wrapped snugly in her swaddle beside you, her small chest rising and falling with each breath.

"There are four of us in this room now, General. What do you think about that?" you teased, your voice a playful whisper.

His lips curved into a warm smile, the kind that lit up his entire face. “It would be difficult to capture my feelings in mere words. All I can say is that I am the most fortunate man on earth.” You turned your head, locking eyes with him, feeling a rush of warmth. “Marcus, I feel the same. I’m truly the most fortunate woman to have you as my husband, and our children are too since they have a father like you.”

As you stifled a yawn, fatigue tugged at your eyelids, heavy with the weight of the day. He leaned in, planting a soft, tender kiss on your forehead. “You need to sleep now,” he murmured, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around you.

“Rest well, my love.”

—

That week was dedicated to your recovery. You spent most of your time lying in bed. Being a mother of two children was even more beautiful and challenging than you had imagined, but the feelings you experienced were so wonderful that you couldn't have been happier. Your aunt and cousin Paulina came to visit you, and you noticed that her daughter had grown up too. You wished that one day you could see her and your daughter running around and playing together, you hoped to live long enough to witness those days.

The villa must have had one of its busiest weeks. Geta was among those who came to visit you and the children. He seemed to be doing better, but you could still sense that he wasn't truly happy, which concerned you. Decima, who couldn't be with you on the day you gave birth, came to see you and the baby the very next day. She spent all day at the villa helping you, only returning home in the evening. She also shared the wonderful news with you that she was expecting a child. Although you told her you didn't want to tire her out any further, she insisted on staying to help.

Everything was going well and blissfully; there was joy in your home, and everyone was happy. However, outside the villa, the real world still existed in all its cruelty. On the last day of the week, there was a council meeting, and the decision you dreaded was made: war was on the horizon once again.

The threat posed by Elagabalus in the south was no longer something to take lightly; it had to be eliminated as soon as possible. Preparations had begun, and the Roman army was on the verge of entering a significant battle it had not faced in a long time.

Marcus was busier than ever, dedicating countless hours to training soldiers and developing effective strategies. You could see the slight tension in his expression, even as he smiled at you. When your little girl woke you up crying in the middle of one night, you found Marcus asleep at his desk, and your heart tightened. You weren't sure what troubled you more: the impending goodbye that would come too soon, the anxiety of waiting for his return without knowing when it would be, or the fact that he had been so exhausted lately while preparing for war.

One morning, he was up early again, sitting at his desk and studying the map spread out in front of him. You softly got out of bed and walked over to him.

"What keeps my husband so busy every morning and evening?" you asked.

He looked up and met your gaze. "My sun, I ask for your forgiveness for waking before you have risen.” He opened his arms, inviting you into his embrace, and you accepted his invitation, sitting on his lap. He gently touched your cheek and scrutinized your face. "Forgive me for not giving you much time these days, my love."

"I'll forgive you if we have breakfast in the meadow," you said.

"Your wish is my command," he replied, smiling.

You smiled back, wrapped your arms around his neck, and kissed him.

—-

The meadow was a breathtaking tapestry of color and life on that enchanting spring morning. It felt like a slice of heaven, where vibrant flowers unfurled their petals to the warm sun, and the trees were adorned with delicate, budding branches that danced gently in the breeze. The air was filled with the cheerful melodies of birds, harmonizing their joyful spring songs as they flitted through the branches.

You had brought Marcius here for the very first time, and the pure joy on his face was radiant. He delighted in chasing after butterflies, their wings painted in brilliant hues, while he reached out to touch the colorful blooms swaying around him. With his newfound ability to walk, he took unsteady steps, often toppling over in his excitement, but his spirit remained unbroken.

Still, his little body could only take so much. After a delightful day of exploration and play with his father, he finally succumbed to sleep, his eyelids fluttering as he nestled into Marcus's arms. Marcus sat beside you in the lush meadow, holding him close, a serene smile gracing his lips as the peaceful ambiance of nature wrapped around you like a soothing touch.

“Aurelia… There’s something I need to tell you.”

Your heart quickened, a mix of curiosity and intuition stirring within you; the tension etched on his face revealed the truth before he even spoke. “I must leave Rome soon. After months of preparation, the moment has finally arrived. Our southern lands are under dire threat, and the peril grows more menacing with each passing day. We must take decisive action to eliminate it.”

“What is the battle plan, General?” You asked, your voice steady, even as a whirlwind of emotions surged inside you.

"We have successfully assembled the largest navy ever created, and the requisite ammunition and catapults are currently being loaded onto our warships. The Carthaginians possess a numerical advantage; however, a portion of their fleet is expected to be stationed at Numidia and Alexandria by this time. It is imperative that we act swiftly to leverage this situation and secure the city of Carthage. Given the absence of their commanders and a majority of their military forces, the city is currently vulnerable."

It was easy for him to explain his battle plan, but it was very difficult for you to listen and imagine him fighting there. He touched your cheek. "Aurelia, my love, this war is unlike the others. We must be prepared for anything. That's why I will leave Cato and Felix here; they will be in charge of protecting you."

You felt a lump arise in your throat. "Marcus, what are you saying?"

"If we are defeated and I..." He paused, exhaling deeply. "If I am unable to return..."

"Marcus, please—"

He pressed his thumb against your lips.

If I am unable to return, it is evident that Elagabalus may advance here with the intention of eliminating Geta. While this scenario is remote, there remains a possibility that they could lay siege to the city. The Praetorians may not be able to hold out for long. Please bear in mind that if anything happens to Geta, our son will be next. Take him and our daughter to where Felix and Cato will guide you. Do you understand? Promise me that you will do this."

Suddenly, your eyes brimmed with tears. "Marcus, I couldn't bear to live if anything happened to you. And you are saying…"

"You will live, my love," he said. "For our son, for our daughter, and for me. Even if it's not in Rome, you will find a way to carry on." As he spoke, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, wiping away the tears that stained your face. "Promise me now, please."

With a trembling breath, you nodded, the words escaping your lips like a soft, mournful whisper.

"I promise.”

—-

Days and weeks passed, and at last, that day had arrived—the day you had feared the most, the day of separation. Anxiety wrapped itself around you like a suffocating blanket, stealing your sleep and filling your mind with troubling visions. The nightmare that haunted you only deepened the sense of dread, stirring a storm of helplessness within.

As Marcus leaned in to kiss you goodbye in the sun-dappled courtyard, a wave of desperation surged through you. Every fiber of your being urged you to drop to your knees, to plead with him to stay. But you resisted, forcing yourself to stand tall, to embody the strength you hoped would comfort him. You wanted him to remember the curve of your smile, the resilience in your posture.

In those final moments, as he turned to bid farewell to Marcius and your little girl, he glanced back at you. His smile was bittersweet, his gaze lingering, as if he were trying to etch your image into his memory forever. In that shared silence, the weight of unspoken words hung between you, a testament to your love and the invisible thread that would bind your hearts despite the distance.

You accompanied him out of the courtyard and wished to join him on the travel to the port of Ostia. At first, he was resistant to the idea, but your persistent insistence wore him down, and he eventually agreed—on the condition that Felix and Cato would accompany you there and back to the villa.

When the carriage arrived at the harbor, the sun was at its zenith. Marcus pointed out the fleet preparing to sail. You were mesmerized, having never seen such a large number of ships gathered together. The soldiers recognized both of you and saluted, and you returned their greetings.

From the deck of the ship, the salty breeze carried the soldier's voice across the water, “General, the wind is at our backs! We’re ready to set sail, sir!”

Marcus nodded and turned to you. “I’m afraid the time has come, my lady.”

Suddenly, you couldn't hold back your tears. Marcus gently cupped your face in his hands and wiped the tears away.

“My love, every time we part and I see tears in your eyes, my heart feels like it stays here with you. I think of you even when I wield my sword. So please, don’t cry anymore. Our children are entrusted to you in my absence; be strong for them.”

"My brave general, I hold my head high and my heart is content. But don't you know that I am in love? I miss you, I cry, I wait, but I know how to be patient. Let my tears be your companion, and let my love be your shield. I fervently wish for you to come back, safe and sound, to my waiting arms, my love. I will not allow fate to take you from me, and as your princess, I forbid you to die.”

He smiled, took your hands in his, bringing them to his lips for a soft, lingering kiss. “I promise, my princess, I will return to you in victory,” he vowed, his voice steady yet soothing. “Let the expansive blue sky be your confidant while I am away. If you listen closely to the harsh winds that whip through the air, you will hear the whispers of my heart. The rain will fall, carrying with it my love for you.”

A wave of emotion swept over you, and you sobbed, clinging to him as if he were your anchor in a stormy sea. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your hair. Time seemed to stand still as you held each other tightly, your tears soaking into the fabric of the red shawl he wore over his armor. He inhaled your familiar scent, etching the moment into his memory, feeling as if it were the last time.

Both of you sensed Octavius standing respectfully behind him, waiting for his general to board the ship. It was time for Marcus and his soldiers to leave the harbour and say goodbye to their homeland. Before stepping onto the deck of the ship, Marcus turned to you to meet your eyes one last time and, despite the heaviness in your heart,  you managed to give him a smile—one that shimmered with unspoken words and memories, a final farewell that echoed the depth of your feelings.

—-

In Marcus's absence, the days stretched endlessly, each one dragging like the weight of sorrow pressing upon your heart.   The beautiful memories he left behind, along with your children, were your only sources of support. You found yourself missing him more deeply than ever before, a longing that gnawed at your soul.

As night fell and you lay in bed, Marcius curled up in the very spot where his father used to sleep, and you wanted him to sleep there until his father returned. You forbade the slaves from washing the last clothes he wore. Each night, you cradled his burgundy tunic, the soft fabric still carrying his familiar scent. As you breathed it in, it wrapped around you like a tender embrace, evoking memories that brought both comfort and a deep ache of longing as you fell asleep.

When Cato delivered a letter from him a few weeks later, you were overwhelmed with happiness. You went to the room to read the letter in solitude. Your heart raced as you sat on the bed and opened it.

"My beloved wife, my dear princess, my radiant sun. As I write this letter from the heart of the vast sea on a dark night, where the moon remains hidden, I want you to know how profoundly I feel your absence. The silence around me is overwhelming, and as I gaze out from the deck, I see only the endless waves stretching far and wide—no land in sight, just emptiness that echoes my longing for you. Then a wind stirs, and I whisper how deeply I miss you and how immeasurable my love for you is, how I wish that this breeze could carry my words to you before my return.

As dawn breaks, a flock of birds appears on the horizon, gliding gracefully away from the shore. They soar towards Rome, towards you, towards home. I wish to join them and fly towards you. I wish to land on your chest and die there, only to be awakened by your sweet kiss, bringing me back to life. Then we could lie in our room, in our bed, holding each other, never wanting to wake up. Until our son and beautiful daughter call out to us…"

You lingered over the letter, reading it over and over, the soft paper cradled between your fingers. As you pressed your lips to the words he'd written, you could almost feel his warm fingers brushing against your skin. The familiarity of his handwriting wrapped around your heart like a soothing embrace. Determined to respond, you resolved to pour your heart into a letter of your own tomorrow. But for now, you knew you needed to gather your thoughts and find the right words, all while bracing yourself against the tears that threatened to spill.

—-

It had been several days since you received Marcus's letter, and you were eager for any news from him. After nursing your little girl and ensuring she was sound asleep, you slowly descended the stairs. You heard some noises coming from outside and felt excited to see Cato—could he have brought news from Marcus? However, when you saw his expression, your excitement turned to worry and fear. You knew that something had happened, and you knew it couldn't be good.

“Cato?”

You felt a rush of concern as you noticed Decima was at his side. She dashed toward you, her body collapsing into your arms as sobs wracked her body, sending a jolt of anguish through your chest. You grasped her shoulders firmly, trying to soothe her.

“What’s wrong?”

Cato’s gaze fell to the ground, his eyes refusing to meet yours, as if too burdened by the weight of the news he carried.

“Speak, Cato! Tell me at once!” you urged, desperation creeping into your voice.

“My lady,” he began, his voice steady yet heavy with sorrow. “There was news this morning. Our navy… our fleet has come under attack by the Carthaginian navy in the Mediterranean. Many of our ships have been sunk, and we have been informed that the general and Sir Octavius's ship were among them.”

“We don't know the details yet. The legates and commanders who stayed in the city will convene with Emperor Geta today. An emergency meeting has been called.”

“Get my horse ready,” you murmured, urgency lacing your tone.

Cato blinked in surprise, hesitating. “My lady, forgive me, but now may not be the right time to go there—”

You silenced him with a fierce glare that brooked no argument.

“Now!” you commanded, your voice rising with an intensity that cut through the air like a clarion call, summoning the slaves into action.

—-

Cato rode alongside you as you made your way up Palatine Hill. A sense of suspicion filled your mind; you were convinced that Marcus was still alive, and you believed there had to be a way to reach him. You grasped Unio's reins to bring her to a halt, she neighed loudly. You jumped down and noticed the guards looking at you in surprise, but you didn't pay them any attention. You rushed inside.

A few soldiers and guards were standing outside the great hall, and Cato ran to catch up with you as you moved toward the entrance. You walked between the soldiers and approached the door. The guards were taken aback to see you. They hesitated, unsure whether to open the door for you, as a meeting was taking place inside.

“Open the gate now!” you commanded.

“Did you not hear Lady Aurelia?” Cato snapped at them.

The guards looked at each other, but eventually, they opened the door for you.

As you entered, the first person you noticed was Commander Darius. Geta stood directly across from him. Centurion Varus was also present, along with two other men. They were all engrossed in a discussion about the map spread out before them. When they heard the door open, they all turned their heads toward you.

“Oh sister, the news must have reached you too,” Geta said worriedly.

Everyone in the hall greeted you, saying, “My Lady.”

You nodded to them and went straight to Geta's side.  "Any recent news?"

"We're still waiting," he replied, his voice heavy with anxiety. "Also, we cling to the hope that the fleet will return soon."

You shook your head. "It'll take days."

"Seven days at least," Varus interjected, his tone grim. "The fleet may return without the general, and we haven’t heard from him yet."

You shot him a fierce glare, refusing to entertain his words. "What do you mean? He's not dead; my husband is still alive!"

"I hope so, my lady," Varus replied, his expression grave, "But we must prepare for every possible outcome and fortify the city against an impending assault. The general took nearly 30,000 troops with him, and our defenses were weak. I warned him that his strategy was flawed, but—"

"You know very well that my husband, General Acacius, has never faltered in any of his strategies," you protested, your voice trembling with emotion that surged within you like an approaching storm. "Something is amiss. Someone must have betrayed him; could it not be?"

Varus flashed a tense grin, his discomfort palpable in the charged atmosphere. "Regardless, we have no time to engage in such discussions. We must urgently select a new commander, a general, Your Majesty, to lead the troops that protect the city."

"The Council will convene tomorrow in an emergency session," you asserted, the weight of responsibility heavy upon your shoulders. "A decision will be reached then; the most seasoned commander will be chosen. For now, head to the barracks and send word to the navy. We must ascertain the general's condition once and for all."

"Yes, Your Highness," he replied, a formal salute snapping his posture straight before he exited the hall. As the door closed behind him, an uneasy feeling settled in your gut; you couldn't shake the unsettling way he had looked at you. You might be mistaken, but you feel he is somehow involved in this situation. But how? More importantly, if he is indeed involved, what might his next action be?

——

 

Chapter 24: Grief

Proditio sola veritas haeret.

Betrayal is the only truth that sticks.

 

Flames engulfed the ships of the Roman navy, illuminating the vast dark Mediterranean Sea with a haunting glow. In a desperate bid for survival, soldiers leaped into the churning waters, their forms silhouetted against the firelight. The night air was filled with their frantic shouts and the splashes of bodies breaking the surface, the echoes of their struggles piercing through the stillness of the night, a chilling symphony of chaos in the open sea.

In the dead of night, enemy ships loomed in the shadows, shrouded by an eerie stillness. Suddenly, a carefully orchestrated and merciless ambush struck without warning. Marcus lay in his cabin, the soft glow of an oil lamp flickering gently nearby, where his loyal companion Octavius rested. The tranquil atmosphere shattered like glass when a bone-rattling roar sliced through the silence, a sound that reverberated like a thunderclap. In an instant, the ship they inhabited trembled violently as a massive ballista projectile—launched from a hidden catapult on a distant vessel—crashed into their hull, sending splinters flying and chaos erupting around them.

The ship convulsed violently as if it had been struck by a great earthquake, the timbers groaning in protest while flames licked hungrily at the hull.

Wooden fragments melted away as though caught in a relentless blizzard, cascading into the cool embrace of the sea, leaving the vessel to seemingly dissolve like parchment in a fire.

As the another catapult's deadly payload smashed into the ship, soldiers caught in the chaos became mere memories, their lives snuffed out in an instant by splintering timber and raging flames. Those molded by fear and urgency on the lower deck scrambled desperately, eyes wide with panic as they sought their generals, and they did, yet the single path to salvation became painfully clear: they must abandon ship, and they must do so swiftly.

As Marcus and his fellow soldiers gazed at the burning, wrecked ships surrounding them, a sense of urgency gripped them. The horizon beckoned with the promise of land, not too far from their current position—potentially enemy territory, but there was no time to choose. They exchanged quick, determined glances before plunging one by one into the cool embrace of the water, the weight of their fate pressing down upon them.

Nearby, soldiers clinging to the splintered remnants of a wrecked vessel noticed their departure. Just as they began to swim towards Marcus and his group, a fiery projectile from a catapult soared overhead, crashing into the water with a thunderous force that sent a towering wave crashing down around them.

Marcus felt his heart race as the water erupted into chaos, momentarily swallowing him whole. For a second, he thought he was lost in despair. The chaos of the waves was overwhelming. But then, just as suddenly as it had started, the storm of waves calmed down, giving them a moment to catch their breath.

Caught off guard during their brief respite, most of the soldiers had donned their heavy armor, a cumbersome burden that hampered their attempts to swim. Only Marcus and Octavius had taken the leap without the weight of steel, since they were wearing only their tunics, while their brothers struggled against the encroaching tide. The fight for survival had only just begun, and the shore felt tantalizingly away, even as danger loomed in the depths.

Gasping for breath, they collapsed onto the wet earth, the sandy ground pressing against their weary bodies. As the relentless waves crashed around them, Marcus, anchored by determination and aided by his steadfast second-in-command, fought valiantly against the tide. With every ounce of strength coursing through his muscles, he reached out to his struggling soldiers, encumbered by their heavy armor, which threatened to drag them beneath the churning surface. One by one, he pulled them from the clutches of the water, his hands straining, heart racing, until they lay safe upon the shore, their lives preserved by sheer willpower and camaraderie.

Marcus was horrified as he gazed at the nightmare unfolding in the sea. The navy of his army, built through months of hard work, was burning before his eyes. His soldiers—his brothers—whom he had trained so diligently and intensely, sacrificing sleep and spending less time with his family, were drowning. His hands balled into fists as the darkness of the night, the deep blue of the water, and the bright red of the flames reflected in his brown eyes.

His chest constricted with a heavyweight as memories of the inspiring speech he had delivered just days before flooded back to him, filled with unwavering confidence and fierce determination. Pride had surged through him as he looked upon his men, their faces radiant with determination, ready to conquer the enemy's city. Yet now, one by one, many of them were slipping beneath the dark, churning waves of the sea, their once-vibrant spirits extinguishing like flickering candles. In the distance, other ships of the fleet retreated like shadows fading into the horizon, their sails drooping in surrender. He felt no anger toward them; he understood their plight. He had commanded this course of action, knowing it was the only honorable choice for a leader.

His feet carried him toward the sea, and as he stepped knee-deep, Octavius approached from behind and touched his shoulder. "Acacius," he murmured.

"Whoever did this, Octavius," he said through clenched teeth. "I will take his life with my own hands."

“Do you believe we’ve been betrayed?” Octavius' voice was heavy with suspicion as he spoke. “You might be right; the timing is strikingly suspicious. Only we possessed the knowledge of our fleet’s carefully charted route—just the two centurions and the legates, privy to this crucial secret. Do you think one of them could be the mastermind behind this treacherous act?”

“Why would they do something like that, sir?” one of the soldiers asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Marcus paused, asking the same question to himself. He may not have had the words for the soldier, but one name stood out with unwavering certainty in his mind.

—-

As dawn’s first light crept over the horizon, gilding the waves in soft hues of gold and orange, Marcus slowly opened his weary eyes. He found himself nestled in a concealed nook along the shore, accompanied by his two loyal soldiers and Octavius. One by one, they shook off the remnants of sleep, drawn out of their restless slumber by the haunting memories of the night before.

The cacophony of battle that had echoed through the darkness had faded, leaving behind an eerie, sorrowful stillness that blanketed the coastline. As they gazed out across the expanse of the sea, their hearts sank at the desolation before them. Gone were the proud ships that had once soared through the waves; instead, splintered pieces of wood and tattered remnants of sails littered the water’s surface, mingling with the ghastly sight of fallen soldiers drifting aimlessly—a mournful procession of loss and despair. Their presence was a haunting reminder of a lost struggle; the echoes of betrayal and malicious actions turned what could have been a victory into a tragedy.

The scene was etched into their minds, a harrowing reminder of the brutality of war that they would carry with them for all eternity.

“Let’s find higher ground,” Marcus urged, his voice heavy with resolve. “We need to see if there are any survivors.”

They couldn’t see in the dark last night, but maybe they could now. Even if it was just one soldier, Marcus was determined to find him; he had to at least try. They climbed to a high place near the shore and squinted in the hot sun. But there was no sign of life, just birds of prey that could smell the corpses. The soldiers picked up whatever stones they could find and threw them angrily at the birds, wanting to drive away the cruel creatures that were trying to feast on the remains of their brothers.

Then they heard a moan and walked towards it. A soldier lay on the shore, badly wounded. When they realized who it was, they rushed to his side. He was in bad shape; in fact, all of them had suffered injuries from the fire and the debris that had grazed their bodies. But this soldier needed urgent treatment.

As the two soldiers carefully tended the other one's injuries, Marcus gazed toward the horizon, watching the foamy waves crash against the rocky shore. He scrutinized the rugged coastline, mentally mapping their exact position on the vast expanse of both sea and land.

"What do we do now, sir?" Octavius asked, his brow furrowed with concern as the salty breeze tugged at his tunic.

“We are in enemy territory along the coastline, and we must avoid coming too close to the shore, as their ships could easily spot us. The army camp should be nearby, and I'm certain they will send an inspection team. We cannot dally; we need to keep moving.”

Suddenly, they heard the neighing of horses approaching and instinctively took an alert position. Then, several arrows were fired at them, striking two of the soldiers.

“Sir!” one of the soldiers shielded his general, as Marcus and Octavius were without armor or swords. Octavius rushed to the other wounded soldier but found that both were dead. He quickly grabbed their swords and called out to Marcus as he threw one toward him.

“Acacius!”

Marcus deftly caught the sword and cut through one of the dismounted attackers as he ran toward Octavius. More adversaries, armed with swords, charged at them. One of them shouted, “Leave no survivors!”

There were eight fully equipped opponents. However, they stood little chance against Marcus and Octavius, who were unarmored. The two soon managed to defeat their adversaries. Octavius had just pressed his sword to the throat of the man he believed to be their leader when Marcus intervened.

“Who are you? Who sent you?” Marcus demanded.

Octavius stomped his foot on the man's arm, pressing down on his wound. The man groaned in pain. “The general asked you a question! Speak!” Octavius growled.

“Romans,” the man spat defiantly. “It doesn't matter if you kill me; you've already lost. Soon, you will lose your lavish city too.”

Octavius bent down, grabbed him by the collar, and shook him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Speak!"

When the man resisted, he punched him repeatedly in the face. Marcus preferred to watch coldly.

The man spoke, his lips trembling as blood trickled down the side of his mouth. ‘I'm saying that our navy, which you underestimate, is preparing to lay siege to your city.’

Marcus and Octavius exchanged glances. The man grinned and said, "But I don't think you will live long enough to see it. You won't stand a chance in our lands."

"I think you are mistaken," Marcus said. "You're the one who won't see it. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but one day, I, Marcus Justus Acacius, shall exact my retribution, destroy all of your fleets, conquer your city, and annex all of your lands into the greatness of Rome; Carthage will be wiped out of history."

The man’s eyes widened in disbelief, but not due to the threat or the confidence in his voice. Instead, the mention of his name made him realize who he was.

"You... how is it possible that you are still alive?" he exclaimed, reaching for the belt around his waist and swiftly drawing out a knife, intending to plunge it into him. However, Marcus was more agile. He grasped the man's wrist, which was holding the knife, and thrust it into the man's throat with it. The man breathed his last, choking on his own blood.

“Why was he so surprised? I don’t like this, sir,” Octavius said.

Marcus brow furrowed as his gaze pierced the distant trees and hills.

“There are undoubtedly more soldiers lurking in the area. We can’t stay here any longer; we must escape now,” he insisted, urgency driving his words.

“What’s the plan? How do we get back to Rome? It’s impossible without a ship."

“Who said we’re going back without a ship?” Marcus retorted. “Didn’t you hear him? Their fleet is gathering to prepare for a siege on the city. If we can just reach the harbor, there might be a glimmer of hope for us. But first, we need disguises.” He turned sharply to the soldier beside him.

“Remove your armor and put on the clothes of one of those men,” Marcus ordered. “We must shed every piece of evidence that marks us as Romans, or we’ll never make it out alive.”

As Marcus donned the cloak of one of the dead soldiers, his thoughts were consumed by you. He couldn’t help but worry about what would happen to you and your children if the city fell to the enemy fleet before he could reach you. The troubling possibilities weighed heavily on him; he needed to get to Rome as soon as possible, but he knew the journey would be dangerous and difficult.

——

As the days dragged on without him, a heavy silence enveloped your heart. Initially, there was a flicker of hope that he would return, but an overwhelming sorrow settled in as the latest news trickled in. Shadows of doubt loomed large in your mind, whispering fears of what if he was truly gone. Yet, in the deepest recesses of your soul, a powerful conviction remained: he was alive, and you could feel it with every fiber of your being.

The agony of not being able to reach him, to offer solace, or to venture forth in search of him was an unbearable weight. Each day passed like an eternity. The sun would stream through your window, casting warm rays that illuminated your bed, yet the light felt cold and distant. Every breath you took without him was a reminder of the hollow space he once filled, each inhalation a sharp pang of longing.

You ached to flee from the Villa, to escape the desolation that surrounded you. Without him, it transformed into a forsaken dungeon, trapped in time—abandoned, ruined, and echoing with memories that only deepened your sorrow.

Every morning, you found yourself making the familiar journey to the bustling harbor of Ostia, the salty breeze carrying whispers of hope as you scanned the horizon for the familiar silhouette of a ship bearing the Legion III flag. Cato and Decima were sharing this ritual with you, but as the days drifted by without a sign of your men, Decima's optimism began to wane. Yet, you clung to hope like a lifeline, for returning to the villa felt like walking into a void, a space only filled by soothing presence of your children, who kept you anchored amidst the uncertainty.

Nights loomed like heavy shadows, each minute stretching into eternity as you sat in your dimly lit room after tucking the children into bed. The silence pressed in on you, amplifying the absence of Marcus. In the stillness, his silhouette seemed to haunt the corners of your mind, merging with fading memories that flickered like candle light. You often found yourself sitting on the cold, hard floor, wrapped in the ache of longing as you imagined where he might be sleeping—if he was sleeping at all. The gnawing worry clawed at your insides; was he injured? Did he need you?  The warmth of your bed, which had once promised solace, felt foreign and unwelcoming now. It once a sanctuary, had turned into a cruel reminder of his absence. You chose to forgo its embrace, opting instead for the rough comfort of the lectus, resolute in your determination to wait for his return, refusing to surrender to sleep until he was back in your arms.

That morning, as you were getting ready in your room to head to Ostia, there was a knock at the door. Decima entered with your permission, her face pale and drawn, betraying a deep discomfort.

“What troubles you, dear?”

“My stomach,” she murmured, her hand instinctively resting on her slightly rounded belly. It was true; she was carrying a child, and it was common for her to experience such ailments in this time.

You guided her to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t come with me today. Stay here with the children and rest.”

Desperation flickered in her eyes as she grasped your hand tightly. “Aurelia, can’t you consider not going either? We’ve made that journey to Ostia six days in a row, only to return disheartened, adding to our suffering. I’m so tired; I can’t bear it anymore…” Her voice cracked as tears spilled down her cheeks. You nestled beside her, wrapping your arms around her.

“I understand your pain, but if we give up hope, what do we have left? They are alive; we must summon our strength for them and for our little ones,” you assured her, your voice steady.

“This is the only flicker of hope I have left,” she said, her hand on her belly.  “But we have to brace ourselves for the other possibility, you know.”

You rose from the bed, “No, there is no other option.”

“Aurelia—”

“Decima, please. He is alive; I can feel it,” you declared, picking up Marcius and inhaling the sweet scent of his curly hair. “I’m not in denial about this; I can’t explain it, but I just know it.”

She let out a heavy sigh, a sound filled with fatigue and resignation. You leaned down to plant a soft kiss on the tiny head of your daughter, peacefully sleeping on the bed, her dreams untouched by the cruel world outside. Then, with resolve, you draped your palla over your head, securing it around your arm.

“You rest here. I’ll return before nightfall,” you promised.

“Please take care of yourself,” she whispered, a tremor of worry in her voice.

You offered her a weak smile, a flicker of reassurance. “You too.”

As you went down the stairs, Tullia was waiting at the bottom, her eyes all watering. She begged you not to go, her voice wobbly with desperation, but you ignored her, just like you did every day. It was a familiar routine, and it was getting you nowhere. Everyone around you looked sad, and the air felt heavy and thick with sadness. This only made you angry.

“What is this sorrowful expression of yours?” you asked, your voice sharp. “Is someone dead? General, your master is still alive; he is not gone! How quickly have you all accepted defeat? How swiftly have you convinced yourselves of his demise? No, as your Domina, I refuse to allow this despair. There will be no more crying and no more sulking. I forbid it, do you understand?”

They nodded slowly, their heads bowed in compliance. You walked out of the courtyard and into the open air, where the world felt colder and more unforgiving. There, you spotted Cato by the carriage, which stood ready and waiting like a silent sentinel. This daily ritual had become all too familiar. Every morning, he arrived to escort you, and each time, you would ask if there was any news. When he responded with a slow shake of his head, a fresh wave of pain crashed over you, as if the wound had been reopened without mercy.

You found yourself teetering on the edge of endurance, desperately clinging to the fragile thread of hope. All you needed was the slightest indication that he was still alive—a whisper, a flicker of life. That’s why you journeyed to the harbor each day without fail; it was a pilgrimage fueled by the relentless ache in your heart. But as time went on, it felt like the whole universe was working against you. Every moment felt like an eternity, as if the world was determined to break your spirit.

As you stood at the harbor, the familiar salt-laden breeze swept around you, mingling with the weight of your unspoken grief. Each day, this spot had become both a sanctuary and a prison. A heavy sigh escaped your lips, giving way to silent tears that traced paths down your cheeks. From a distance, Cato watched, his heart heavy. Every day, he stood witness to your struggle, feeling the pull of your pain deep within himself. A soldier by trade, he had learned to temper his hopes with grim realism, but his heart ached with the longing to believe that everything would be alright. His thoughts were consumed by the mission entrusted to him by his general—to protect his own family, no matter the cost.

You were oblivious to the arrival of the carriage coming up close to you, its wheels crunching over gravel while the waves crashed rhythmically against the shore. The world around you had lost its vibrancy in his absence; it felt as if a curse hung in the air, draining the life from all that surrounded you.

Suddenly, the echo of footsteps broke through your reverie, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts. You turned to find Geta standing beside you, his expression serious as he draped a white, fancy shawl over your shoulders. The gentle weight of the shawl felt comforting amid your turmoil.

He had a point; the wind was biting, but nothing compared to the fiery pain you felt deep down.

“Why did you come here?” you asked, meeting his gaze.

“I should ask you the same thing. Standing on the edge of the harbor day after day—don’t you think it’s a bit reckless?”

“It’s hard to stay at home,” you replied, adjusting his shawl around your shoulders and clutching the fabric tighter as if seeking solace in its warmth.

“Then you should have told me. I would have gone with you,” he said.

“Should I really have invite the great emperor to stand here idly with his sister for no reason? You have an empire to rule, and your family needs you,” you murmured.“Family? Hah!” He let out a bitter laugh that echoed against the waves. “You are my family. Marcius and my little niece—are my family.”

“Brother,” you whispered. “You have a wife and a child. You can’t just ignore them. Publius is your son; he needs his father.”

“I don’t ignore him,” he replied firmly, although the weight of his words seemed to hang in the air. “I love him just as much as I love Marcius.”

“And Nerissa? The rumors I hear about you two aren’t good. Are you paying enough attention to your wife?”

“I’m going to divorce her,” he said, his voice chillingly devoid of emotion.

“What did you just say?” you asked, stunned.

“Not right away, but I can’t stay married to her,” he continued, his expression hardening. “She’s become someone I no longer recognize. I can’t stand her being around me.”

“Tell me what happened,” you insisted.

He shook his head and looked into your eyes. There was sadness in his gaze, revealing the many things he wanted to say but couldn’t. His expression made you uneasy, because you recognized that look—the kind a man gives a woman when he feels deeply. It was the kind of look that compelled you to look away immediately.

“Aurelia, I—”

Suddenly, a horn echoed through the air, jolting you from your thoughts. The sound was unmistakable, sending a thrill down your spine. Instinctively, you turned your gaze toward the vast expanse of the sea.

In the distance, silhouettes of battle-weary ships emerged on the horizon, their sails billowing gracefully as they glided closer to the shore. The rhythmic crash of waves against their hulls accompanied their steady approach, creating a spellbinding sense of anticipation.

A surge of joy coursed through your veins, igniting a spark of hope that blossomed within you at the thought of his return.

“Finally,” Geta said, smiling at you, and you smiled back, perhaps for the first time in days. Within an hour, the partially damaged ships approached the shore and anchored. As each soldier stepped ashore, you felt growing excitement. However, your joy soon faded when you realized that the number of soldiers disembarking very less. The soldiers waiting on the other ships were not many either. It was devastating to witness the fleet's severe damage and significant losses firsthand.

A little later, the centurion Varus must have received the news, as he was one of those who arrived at the harbor. He was surprised to recognize you, but he stepped toward you with determination.

“Where is your general?” Geta asked the soldiers. The soldiers appeared tired, wounded, and deeply saddened. They were too grief-stricken to look at either his face or yours.

“It’s just us and the others on the ship, Your Majesty. We are outnumbered by no more than three thousand soldiers, many of whom died in the attack. We believe that the general and Sir Octavius were among them.”

"It was a direct order from him, my lady. Either we stay there and perish, or we retreat. We've been through hell." The soldier’s words echoed in your mind, heavy as stone.

"You did the right thing, soldier," Varus said, his tone firm. Yet, you could sense a hint of relief in his voice.

Suddenly, your knees buckled, and you sank to the gravelly ground, feeling the sharp stones bite into your skin.

"Aurelia!" Geta exclaimed anxiously, dropping beside you.

"My lady!"

Geta fiercely pushed Varus' hand away as it reached out, wanting to touch you.

Cato rushed to your side, leaning in with an urgency.

"My lady, let me take you back home," he implored, but the words felt distant, floating away like the lost hopes within you.

You lacked the strength to respond; tears streamed down your cheeks, each drop a testament to the profound hurt that gripped your heart. Crushed under the weight of despair, the last remnants of hope were carried away on the calm winds howling across the shore.

Geta put his arm around you, his presence a quiet anchor amidst the storm raging within you. He brushed his fingers gently against your tear-streaked face, offering solace as he helped you rise.

"You should return to the villa now, Aurelia. Would you like me to accompany you?" he asked softly, concern lacing his voice.

Varus cleared his throat, a sound filled with urgency. "Your Majesty, there’s something we must discuss. You pledged to await the fleet’s return, and now that it has arrived, I trust you will take the necessary steps to select a new general."

You narrowed your eyes at him, fury simmering just beneath the surface.

"Not now, Varus," Geta interjected sharply, gesturing for him to leave, his protectiveness radiating like a shield around you.

“I understand your pain, and I am truly sorry for your loss,”  he said, not sounding very sincere. Only made you angrier. “But my thoughts are with the state of our army and the safety of our city—”

“It’s not just you; I’m thinking about it too, so you don’t need to worry. Right now, I must be there for my sister during her moment of grief, and frankly, you’re the last person I want to see.” The sharpness of his words hung in the air, leaving Varus visibly unsettled. He lowered his gaze in anger, then turned and walked away in silence.

“I’m sorry, Aurelia, but Acacius...” Geta paused, drawing in a shaky breath as if unsure how to say it properly. “As difficult as it’s been—and I genuinely know it is—I believe it’s time for me to accept the truth.”

“Please,” you whispered, your voice cracking like brittle glass. “Don’t say anything more; it’s only adding to my pain."

"I know, forgive me."

"I want to go home.” You said faintly.

“Alright, then, let me accompany you. I can't leave you alone like this,” he said.

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks, unstoppable and raw.

—-

During several distressing days spent as refugees in the bustling streets of Carthage—the very city they had intended to conquer—Marcus, Octavius and the other soldiers were forging a plan for their perilous return to Rome. Their initial strategy was to infiltrate the merchant ships sailing toward the island of Sicily. However, there was a significant problem: the harbor, alive with the sounds of creaking planks and crashing waves, was dominated by ominous warships—hundreds of them. Clearly, merchant ships could not sail for the time being. In truth, the man they had slain had spoken with grim accuracy—Carthage was preparing to unleash its might upon Rome.

With a pressing time limit, the group knew they had to procure a small dinghy or boat under the cover of darkness to reach Drepanum. Stripped of coins and valuables, they relied on their training as soldiers and the fierce camaraderie that bound them together. That day, they pressed on to the coastal city of Clypea, seeking the promise of a less fortified harbor where the air was thick with salt and desperation.

As dusk enveloped the city like a shroud, they found refuge in a dimly lit tavern, hoping for a place to rest. The scent of roasted meat mingled with the sharp tang of spilled wine as they overheard snippets of anxious conversations from nearby tables. The locals, their faces drawn with worry, whispered tales of the imminent siege preparations by their army. Fear rippled through the air like a storm, as they suspected that Elagabalus might betray their trust. Yet, a flicker of hope remained—many believed that the sinking of Roman ships and the loss of soldiers were signs of weakness. Most importantly, the loss of their great General Acacius could become a significant advantage in their struggle against Rome.

Octavius and the other soldiers clenched their fists upon hearing their conversation, while Marcus was the only one who smiled when his name was mentioned. As they listened, it was hard for them to remain quiet, but they needed to keep a low profile. He knew that if Elagabalus reached Rome with the Carthaginian fleet before they did, Marcus would have little chance to save his city. He had to get home—for his wife, for his family, for his emperor, and for Rome.

At dawn's quietude, they set out on their bold quest to steal a lone boat with a single sail from the peaceful harbor. Though its leisurely pace paled in comparison to that of a sturdy ship, it provided the subtlety they desperately needed. The boat glided across the shimmering waters, and nearly a day later, they finally stepped onto the sun-kissed shores of Sicily.

From that point on, their journey became treacherous. Traveling on foot across the rugged terrain, without the speed of a horse, would stretch their journey into days, perhaps even weeks. They maneuvered through the territory of Syracuse, a Roman ally.

Desperation clawed at them as they decided to find horses. In a hurry and lacking peaceful options, they resorted to force. They ambushed the owner of the horses. Marcus, torn between courage and guilt, promised the man that he would one day repay the debt. However, the man, trapped in despair and fear, yelled and protested loudly, his cries echoing in the still morning air. Ultimately, they had no choice but to silence him, tying him up as they fled into the uncertain horizon.

After journeying with the horses up to the Strait of Messina—just as the Roman navy arrived at the port of Ostia—they had to find a way to cross to the other side of the land. Unable to take the horses with them, they had to leave them behind, which meant a few more days would be required to reach Rome. Capua was a significant stop along the way to their destination. Octavius’ family resided there, would allow them to gather all necessary supplies like food, suitable clothing, and horses.

Upon arriving in Capua, they stepped into a tavern to rest, feeling quite fatigued from their travels. "My family's home isn't far from here. We can get what we need," Octavius said as the tavern owner served them their drinks. "What should we do after then, sir?"

Marcus sipped his wine. "We still have a considerable distance to get to Rome. Additionally, we need to find the nearest army headquarters."

“There’s the Iulia Alpina legion just outside the city,” another soldier said.

“Indeed. We must head to their camp. Commander Quintus knows me; he will be able to assist us,” Marcus said, his resolve strengthening. “From there, we can send word to Geta.”

They nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, the heavy wooden door of the tavern swung open, and a raucous group of men stormed in, their animated chatter filling the dimly lit room. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls as one man leaned in closer to his companions.

“Did you hear the news? They’ve chosen Varus as general to replace General Acacius,” he murmured, a hint of disbelief lingering in his tone.

The second man shook his head, a pained expression crossing his face. “He was a good commander, a man of honor. It’s a tragedy. May the gods welcome him into Elysium’s embrace,” he intoned solemnly, raising a cup in a silent toast.

A skeptical chuckle escaped the first man’s lips. “Varus can’t even hold a candle to him. No one can match his prowess on the battlefield,” he retorted, the edge of resentment sharp in his voice.

Seated in a shadowy corner, Octavius felt a surge of indignation welling within him. He shifted in his chair, ready to spring to his feet when Marcus, placed a hand on his arm, restraining him.

“Sir, what are they saying? How can this be?”

“Calm down, Octavius,” Marcus urged, glancing around cautiously. “They must believe we’re dead.”

“But you’re not dead! We’re not dead! We can’t let this nonsense continue!” Octavius protested, fury igniting his voice. “How could Geta possibly choose Verus?”

Marcus sighed, “It must be the council’s decision. They need a leader; the army can’t function without one,” he explained, his voice subdued yet firm.

“Still, it reeks of injustice,” the soldier said, his disappointment evident as he shook his head. “You are still a general, and this is gravely unfair.”

“Now, Varus has the influence and power to manipulate things in his favor. Geta is in jeopardy now more than ever. We must return to Rome—time is of the essence,” Marcus declared, determined.

—-

Breathing... Could it really hurt just to breathe? But it did hurt you. It felt as if there were countless wounds in your lungs that grew larger with each breath. The pain you experienced was indescribable. You cried so much that you woke up in the morning with the dried remnants of last night's tears on your cheeks. Crying was all you could do; you tried to appear happy to avoid frightening Marcius. Every time he babbles "da-da," a word he used for his father, he did so without grasping the reality of his father's absence. As you watch him, you were feeling the weight of your emotions, struggling to hold back tears while biting your lips so hard that they almost bled.

Everyone around you—Cato, Felix, Decima, Norell, Geta, Lucius, who visited occasionally, your aunt Antonia, even Tullia—was telling you to stop waiting for him to return.

But you were refusing. Somewhere deep down, you knew that he was alive, you could still feel his heart beating. It was a strange sensation, but it was undeniable. How could you possibly ignore that feeling? He would return—maybe it would take months or even years, but he would come back. It might seem ridiculous, but you were certain he will return.

His words reverberated softly in your mind repeatedly. ‘You will live, my love. For our son, for our daughter, and for me.’ Yet, the weight of this promise felt almost unbearable. The ache in your chest was so profound that it seemed to steal the very breath from your lungs. Without his plea echoing in your heart, the agony would consume you entirely. It seemed so easy to surrender to death, but enduring the excruciating burden of this pain felt insurmountable, a dark shadow that loomed over every moment of your existence.

You may have shed many tears for Marcus, but all of Rome shared your grief. The citizens and city authorities of the Empire bestowed many honors upon General Acacius, and it was decided by Geta that appropriate ceremonies should be held to mourn his death. Temples, baths, and shops closed their doors as his loved ones wept inconsolably. In memory of his honorable and victorious life, a mausoleum was to be erected in the harbor of Ostia (this was customary for generals or centurions whose bodies could not be found). In two days, a ceremony was organized to commemorate the soldiers and their general who had died at sea. People, members of the Senate and their wives, and the relatives of the deceased soldiers all came to you to offer their condolences. You were grateful to everyone, but this only intensified your pain and made your loss feel more tangible.

Since you still didn’t believe you had truly lost him, the ceremony was almost unbearable, and you wanted to escape—it was all too much. What finally drove you away was the sight of Varus in his new outfit, who had just been declared General. He was dressed in leather armor featuring a gold-embroidered head of a Medusa on the front, with a red shawl cascading down from his shoulders. He looked just like Marcus, but he was not him. No matter how they referred to him, he wasn’t your general, and he never could be; no one ever could. Seeing someone like him wearing Marcus' familiar outfit left you feeling unsettled. Your heart raced uncontrollably, and the world around you blurred as nausea threatened to take hold. In your moment of distress, Cato and Decima rushed to your side, gently guiding you toward the carriage while you struggled to regain your composure.

Each step toward the waiting carriage was a struggle against the weight of your burden. Just as the world around you began to blur, your legs faltered beneath you, and darkness enveloped you like a thick fog, erasing all traces of light and consciousness.

Aurelia...

That whisper, that voice... As you opened your eyes, you found yourself on the desolate shore of a dark and stormy sea, waves crashing violently against the rocks. The air was thick with the scent of salt and rain, and Marcus' voice echoed all around you, haunting yet comforting, but he was nowhere to be seen. Panic surged within you as you searched the horizon.

Then, you spotted him—Marcus stood resolutely on the opposite shore, his charm as captivating as ever. Your heart raced at the sight of him, yet a deep chasm lay between you.

“Marcus, my love, I knew you weren't gone!” you cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I knew you hadn't left me!" You swiftly wiped them away with the back of your hand, yearning to take in the familiar contours of his face that you longed for. But despite your desperate steps forward, the fierce ocean current repelled you, the waves rising like formidable walls.

The storm swirled around you, the howling wind almost drowning out your plea. “I’ll return to you soon, my princess,” he promised, his voice a melodic whisper that cut through the tempest.

Joy ignited a smile on your lips even as tears continued to flow. But just as swiftly, the tempest intensified, and in a blink, Marcus vanished, along with the light of your happiness.

The distant chirping of birds broke the spell, pulling you back to reality, stark and unforgiving. It was a jarring contrast to the heartache that gripped you. You understood you were lost in a dream, yet you hesitated to open your eyes, clinging to the hope of seeing him again. But like sand slipping through your fingers, the dream faded away, and you returned to a reality heavy with sorrow.

When you opened your eyes, you realized Geta was sitting next to you, looking at you with concern.

“Aurelia? Are you awake?”

You turned your head and glanced around the room; you were in your chamber at the Domus Severiana, another place filled with memories of Marcus. How wonderful.

“Why am I here?” you asked, frowning.

“I was very concerned about your condition. I wanted Lucius to see you,” he replied. He picked up a tray of food from the table and brought it to you. “Please eat something; you need to take care of yourself. You've lost a lot of weight—just look at you.”

“I don't have any appetite, brother,” you confessed, turning your head away.

“Then, as your emperor, I order you to eat this now,” he said, a playful smile creeping across his lips, trying to lighten the somber atmosphere.

He was trying to elicit a smile from you, and you appreciated that. Yet, despite your best efforts, you couldn't manage a smile.

“Thank you, brother, really, but I must go,” you murmured, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor meeting your feet.

He quickly stood, an impetuous glint in his eye, and gently guided your shoulders back down. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“But Marcius and my daughter—”

“You must regain your strength first; otherwise, you’ll be no good to them. If you eat, I’ll let you go.”

“Geta, please... I can’t stay here,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the weight of your worries pressing down on you.

“Then eat. Do you want me to spoon-feed you? Look, I’ve never done this for anyone before, so appreciate it. You're lucky to have a brother like me,” he said, grinning.

“Well, if you won’t let me leave without eating…” you murmured.

“That's right,” he replied, settling down next to you on the bed, a teasing glimmer in his eyes.

“Now, come on, open your mouth,” he urged. You hesitated but eventually opened your mouth just enough to accept the morsel and began chewing slowly.

With determination, he managed to get you to eat the food on the plate, and a smile of triumph appeared on his face.

“Enough, I'm going to be sick,” you said as he handed you more food.

“Well, at least I saw you eat something,” he replied with a chuckle. “I wish I could see you smile.” He sighed deeply. “You know, I really miss seeing that beautiful smile of yours.”

“Thank you for being there for me, brother. But I really have to go.”

“Come on, Aurelia, stay here one more night, and tomorrow I'll take you myself, I promise.”

“One more night? I stayed here last night?”

“Well, yes. I might have asked Lucius to give you something to help you relax,” he confessed sheepishly.

“You did what? I’ve been here for two days? How could you do that?” Your words spilled out, sharp and tinged with disbelief.

“I did it for you!” he barked back, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “Lucius said you fainted—probably from malnutrition and sadness. You’re going to make yourself sick, and I can’t allow that. So please, just stay here tonight and leave tomorrow. Should I have Marcius and my little niece brought over?”

“No, I’ll go,” you insisted.

Geta grasped your wrist gently but firmly. “Please, Aurelia,” he implored, his eyes filled with a quiet desperation.

It was ironic how Nerissa had used that same word in her plea for you to leave before.

“I know exactly what will make you smile,” Geta declared confidently. “Stay right here; I will return shortly.” With that, he left the room.

You sat back on the bed, and no matter how much you tried to push it away, the memories of Marcus in this room kept flooding your mind. It formed a lump in your throat that was hard to swallow. A little later, Geta returned, managing to make you smile as he promised. He came back carrying your nephew, Publius, in his arms. Instinctively, you smiled widely when you saw his beautiful face.

“See? I told you I’d make you smile. This little man is the only one who can manage that for his aunt,” Geta declared, his eyes twinkling with pride.

You reached out and took Publius in your arms. He was right; he was the only one who could make you smile today.

“Aurelia,” Geta said as you stroked your nephew’s golden hair. “I know it’s hard right now, but you will get through this. You are the strongest woman I know, and believe me, I have known many.”

“I don’t know if that’s a consolation or just an attempt to flatter yourself,” you replied, half-joking.

He shrugged his shoulders, a playful grin forming on his lips. “I can’t change my past, but you are the biggest reason I’ve become the person I am today. You’re incredibly strong, fiercely loyal, and possess a heart of gold. You would do anything for those you love. I consider myself lucky to have you among them.”

“Geta…” you murmured, your heart swelling with gratitude.

“I know, I know—sentimentality is a lot for someone who tends to be full of himself. I failed at being emotional, didn’t I? Just forget it, it’s all—”

Suddenly, you hugged him. He was taken aback; he usually does that kind of thing.

“Thank you, brother. Your support means a lot to me,” you said.

He wrapped his arms around you. “I’ll always be there for you. I won’t let anything happen to you or your children. In his absence, you’ll be under my protection.”

“Your Majesty—”

You stepped back as soon as you heard Nerissa's voice. Her expression was a mix of confusion and anger. “I was looking for Publius...” she mumbled.

“I brought him here,” Geta replied, avoiding her gaze.

“I thought Lady Aurelia had left.” She glanced at you.

“My sister will stay here one more night,” he said, picking up Publius in his arms.

A little later, Lucius appeared at the door. “Your Majesty, my empress, my lady.” He looked at you and them. “I'll come back later if this is the wrong time—”

“Come in, Lucius,” Geta said, gesturing to him. “We were just leaving.” He turned to you. “Rest well, Aurelia.”

You nodded in response.

Geta grasped Nerissa's arm, and you ignored her piercing looks as they left the room together.

Lucius closed the door behind them.

“How are you feeling? Are you feeling better?”

“I'm not sure how I feel anymore,” you replied with a sigh.

"You looked as pale as a marble statue yesterday; you really should take better care of yourself."

"I see you're still in Rome," you murmured, deliberately dismissing the subtle suggestion in his words.

He placed the delicate cup of soothing herbal tea he had brought for you on the table, steam rising like Marcus’ memories swirling around the room.

"How can I possibly leave when you're feeling this way?" he asked.

"I'll be fine, Lucius," you insisted, your voice more confident than you felt.

He exhaled deeply. “I won't say anything to upset you, but I don't like seeing you this way. You should think of yourself, for your children's sake at least.”

You picked up the cup and glared at him. “I know, but it’s hard.”

Lucius knew you well, and you appreciated that he didn’t try to convince you of anything or comfort you as the others did.

“Just try,” he said before leaving the room.

——

At the break of dawn, the first light filtered through the mist, illuminating the sturdy tents of the Iulia Alpina legionary camp. Marcus and Octavius approached the entrance, the sound of their sandals crunching on gravel echoing in the quiet morning air. The soldier who had traveled with them had to stay at Octavius' family home because his wounds were worsening.

Two soldiers stepped forward as they neared them, their expressions a mixture of caution and suspicion.

“Halt! Identify yourselves,” one soldier demanded. Seeing them unarmed, he crossed his arms over his chest with confidence, blocking their path.

Octavius’s frustration bubbled beneath the surface, igniting a fire in his chest. How could mere soldiers question Marcus, a man who had once commanded the respect and admiration of the entire army? With clenched fists, he felt a surge of indignation at the thought of his general being reduced to an unknown visitor.

But where Octavius seethed, Marcus remained the embodiment of calm dignity. He reached for his finger, slipping off his intricately designed ring and presenting it to one of the soldiers. The metal glinted in the morning sun, a symbol of authority.

“Deliver this to Commander Quintus. He will recognize who I am,” Marcus instructed, his voice steady and assured.

The soldier hesitated, his brow furrowing as he examined the ring. “A Commander's ring? Where did you acquire this?”

“Did you steal it?” a second soldier asked.

Octavius erupted in anger, his voice like thunder. “How dare you say that!”

“Who the hell are you to raise your voice?” the first soldier shot back.

What is going on here?” another came behind them and asked, eyes widening in recognition as they landed on Marcus.

“Sir, these two wanted to see you—” the soldier began, but Commander Quintus silenced him with a wave of his hand.

“Return to your posts now!” he barked, authority ringing in his voice. “Come with me.” He gestured for Marcus and Octavius to follow him, the soldiers nodding in surprise as they complied.

Marcus reclaimed his ring, the weight of it in his hand a reminder of his past glories. He turned to the soldier, locking eyes with him. “What is your name, soldier?” he inquired, his tone now softer, almost conspiratorial.

The soldier frowned, taken aback by the unexpected question. “B-Balbus. Why do you ask?”

Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Marcus replied, “I’ll find you one day, Balbus.”

The young soldier quirked an eyebrow, puzzled by the familiarity, and a chill ran down his spine as he felt a strange shiver at the weight of Marcus’s words.

Commander Quintus stepped into his tent and waited for the others to arrive.

“Acacius! General!” he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and relief. “How did you-? We heard you were dead. Just the other day, there was a ceremony…”

“Calm yourself, Quintus. I’ll explain everything,”

Quintus exhaled a deep breath. “Please, take a seat, General. Forgive my soldiers; they wouldn’t have acted this way if they had known who you were. I was too flabbergasted to reveal your identity in front of them—”

“Actually, you acted wisely. I need your help with something. We must return to Rome immediately. Our journey has stretched on for far too long.”

“Of course, but how did you survive that brutal attack? I’ve heard the stories—tens of thousands lost…” Quintus’s voice trailed off. "I can't even imagine..."

“I suppose the gods took pity on us,” Marcus muttered.

“They surely did. It’s a miracle you made it out alive,” Quintus said, shaking his head in awe.

"A miracle indeed," Octavius murmured.

“You mentioned a ceremony,” Marcus said, his brown eyes narrowing as he leaned forward.

“Yes, I attended it. Actually, I only arrived last night. I believe you heard about whom they appointed as general,” he said hesitantly. Marcus nodded in reply. “Varus looked rather smug in his new outfit.”

“I’m certain he did,” Marcus replied coldly. “Did you see anyone else?” He sighed before your name escaped his lips. “Lady Aurelia?”

“Yes, she was there,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

Marcus’s brow knitted in concern. “Did something happen to her?”

“She appeared distraught,” Quintus confessed, his voice dropping to a whisper. “She thinks her husband is dead, the poor lady.”

A heavy silence enveloped them, tightening around Marcus’s chest like a vise. “I must return at once,” he hissed.

Octavius placed a reassuring hand on Marcus’s back. “We will return, brother. Together.”

Quintus nodded, determination etched on his features. “I’ll provide you with my finest horses. You arrive in Rome in a day and a half,” he promised.

Marcus nodded.

“Sir,” a soldier called to Quintus from outside the tent.

“Come in,” Quintus replied.

The soldier saluted and handed him a piece of paper. “A message just arrived, sir, from Rome.”

“Alright, you can leave now,” Quintus replied, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. The soldier complied, saluting once more before exiting. Quintus turned to Marcus, his expression darkening. “It’s from General Varus.”

“Open it,” Marcus urged.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Quintus unfolded the paper. As his eyes scanned the lines, shock painted his features, and a breathless murmur escaped his lips. “How can this be?”

“What does it say?” Marcus asked, leaning closer.

“Commander Quintus,” Quintus read aloud, voice steady but tinged with disbelief, “in the name of the people of Rome, I summon your legions to Rome to assist me and my soldiers in arresting Emperor Geta.”

Marcus's brow furrowed as he examined the message and the seal beneath, then handed it over to Octavius.

“What the hell does he think he’s doing?” Quintus exclaimed, his voice rising with fury.

“He’s trying to place Elagabalus on the throne,” Marcus snarled.

“Is he betraying Emperor Geta now?” Octavius asked.

“That seems to have been his intention all along,” Marcus replied, clenching his fists tightly at his sides, frustration radiating from him like heatwaves. “How could I not have seen it?”

“He must have been the one who tipped off the enemy about our fleet's course,” Octavius added, his voice low yet charged with realization. “They knew exactly where we’d be. The target was you, General—the ship we were on.”

“You're right, Octavius. If I had recognized this earlier…” Marcus said, his voice trailing off as regret washed over him.

“Who could have guessed he would turn out to be such a despicable traitor?”

"We should have seen it, Octavius. If we had, none of this chaos would have unfolded," he replied with a stern look. "Perhaps our brothers would not now be in the depths of the damned sea," he added, the burden of grief heavy on his heart.

Octavius gently placed a hand on his shoulder, sharing in his sorrow and understanding his pain.“We have to leave immediately.” Marcus said then. “We cannot allow Varus to continue his malevolent schemes. If he places Elagabalus on the throne, it will spell disaster for all of Rome.”

“You're right. We have no time to lose.”

“I’ll prepare the horses, but Acacius, Varus has summoned me to the city. If I refuse, he may brand me a traitor,” Quintus said.

“You will go. You must fulfill your duty as a soldier. However, the fact that I am still alive must remain our secret.”

He nodded and left the tent.

“What are we going to do? You won’t be recognized as a general when you reach Rome,” Octavius asked.

“I will confront him and reclaim my rightful title, but before that, we must find a way to stop him. If they manage to capture Geta and place Elagabalus on the throne, we'll lose our chance for good, and with the sands of time slipping away, we cannot afford any delays."

“We have until their fleet reaches Ostia.”

“If Elagabalus is on that fleet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it Octavius. If Varus didn’t wait for the fleet, he may have already allowed Elagabalus to sneak into the city,” he explained, dread lacing his words.

“Gods forbid! if we don’t make it in time—”

Marcus exhaled a heavy breath. “Then we will have truly lost…"

—-

When you woke up in the morning, you heard footsteps just outside your chamber. Then, Geta entered your room with a big smile on his face, followed by the slaves carrying trays full of food. You looked at them with puzzled, sleepy eyes.

“What is happening?” you asked.

“I arranged for breakfast to be served in your room,” he replied, gesturing for the slaves to place the trays on the table.

“I can see that. May I ask why?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on now. I just wanted us to have breakfast together. Get up and join me,” he said as he sat down at the table.

He was likely trying to make you feel better, but he was putting in a bit too much effort.

“Geta, I want to return home now,” you whined.

“Alright, alright, but I kindly ask that you join me for just one breakfast before we leave together,” he suggested earnestly.

You huffed. “Very well.”

After breakfast, Geta indicated his intention to proceed downstairs to arrange for the carriage, assuring that he would await your presence in the courtyard. Leaving the room was difficult, but going to the villa felt even harder. Marcus seemed to be everywhere; his memories were etched in every corner, and his beautiful face appeared wherever you looked. Today you felt more broken than yesterday; the pain remained, only now it felt bigger.

You couldn’t deny that Geta's support helped to ease the pain a bit. However, the problem was that every time you were alone after a moment of relief, the reality of Marcus’s absence struck you like a slap in the face. Each time it felt more violent, more jarring, and more hurtful. You didn’t know how to cope with the pain, and what was worse, you were sure it would linger with you for the rest of your life. All you could do was wait for him to return, just as he promised you in your dream. His return was your only medicine; the only thing that could heal you was feeling his presence again.

Upon your arrival in the courtyard, Geta greeted you with a warm smile. “Are you prepared to depart, sister?” he inquired, with genuine warmth in his tone.

You nodded in affirmation. “Yes, I am ready.”

“I’ve already missed Marcius and our little princess. It will do me good to see them.”

“Oh, that’s right, I never thanked you.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For giving your bracelets to Marcius.”

He smiled. “I wanted to give my nephew a gift worthy of a Roman prince.”

“A very suitable gift indeed,” you responded, returning his smile, feeling a brief lift in your spirits.

Just as you were about to exit, Darius entered the courtyard purposefully, his demeanor suggesting urgency. “Your Majesty! I was on my way to locate you.” His expression conveyed a sense of importance, and he was clearly catching his breath.

“What is the matter, Commander? Has something occurred?” he asked.

His brow knitted in concern as he looked around warily.

“Centurio- General Varus…” he gasped, struggling to catch his breath.

“What about him?”

“He's on his way here with his troops, Your Majesty,” he replied, a shadow of dread crossing his face.

“I beg your pardon?”

“With the intent to arrest you,” he continued, his tone grave.

“What?” you squeaked, feeling a chill run down your spine.

Geta stood frozen for a moment, shock rendering him speechless, his eyes darting with alarm.

“My men have managed to block them at the entrance to Palatine Hill, but their numbers are overwhelming. We won't be held off for long. We need to get you out of here—now.”

“How dare Varus commit this treachery?” he demanded, anger boiling within.

“We don’t know his motives, Your Highness. My men will escort you to the safe place we discussed earlier.” He unsheathed his sword with a schwing sound. “You must go with them immediately. And you too, my lady, follow His Majesty closely.”

“I need to go home!” you protested, panic threading through your voice.

“Aurelia, didn’t you hear? Varus has committed treason not only against me but against the entire imperial family."

"We suspect he may be colluding with Elagabalus,” Darius added.

A cold shiver coursed through you, your heart pounding against your ribcage. “Marcius... My son... I have to reach him now!”

“We will, but first we must escape this place!” Geta urged.

“This way, Your Majesty,” one of the guards pointed to a shadowy inner courtyard, the air thick with tension and urgency.

“Bring the Empress and my son!” Geta commanded.

“I’ll fetch them; you go ahead, please!” the other guard shouted urgently before he left your side.

Geta grabbed your wrist and dragged you into the shadowy corridors, following the clattering footsteps of the guards. Your heart was pounding like a drum, the sound of fear and panic filling your head as you thought of your son.

“Don’t worry,” Geta murmured, urgency lacing his words. “There’s a secret path winding from the tombs beneath Palatine Hill. It’s an escape route that Darius, Acacius, and I devised for emergencies like this.”

Your heart fluttered at the sound of his name. Whenever you were scared in situations like this, the confidence that he would come to your rescue always kept you calm. But now, he was absent, and you were left in the cruel grip of uncertainty. A chilling question gnawed at your mind: could these truly be the last moments of your life? You thought that death would be far less terrifying if it weren’t for your children. The thought of them being left fatherless and orphaned weighed heavily on you, and despair threatened to consume you. If they lost their mother too, what fate awaited them in this unforgiving world? You strained to push those dark thoughts aside, desperately trying to focus on the present moment.

The guards led you to the tombs, and one of them went to check if the exit was safe. You paused, waiting for his return to your side; you gazed at the statue of your father, and you silently prayed to be reunited with Marcus and to return safely to your children.

“Don’t pray to him; he won’t hear you,” Geta said.

You looked at him in shock.

“He never heard me. He wouldn’t have heard me even when he was still alive.”

"How do you mean?"

“Caracalla and I were merely heirs to him. He didn’t see us as sons; perhaps we weren’t worthy in his eyes. I can’t say. But he had one true child, and that was you. He loved only you,” he declared, his voice growing thick with a storm of emotions.

“Geta, what are you—”

“I held my silence before because, at first, it was simply jealousy. But the more I learned about you, the clearer it became why he cherished you so deeply. Caracalla’s anger only grew in tandem.” He put his hand on Caracalla’s bust, on his shoulder. "The reason they called us evil twins was that’s exactly what we were. Our father played a significant role in that; he was a soldier, a commander who viewed us as his soldiers. He often beat Caracalla, and I would shield him to protect him, but sometimes, I was too scared and just watched. He even believed that Caracalla's height was his fault. He never loved us, Aurelia, and I know he didn’t love my mother either. He must have preferred you and your mother," he said, laughing bitterly. "I don’t hold it against you—please don’t misunderstand. But if he had treated us well and given us a father’s love, maybe Caracalla wouldn’t have become so angry or fooled to believe someone like Macrinus. I think he loved Rome more than he loved us, even more than he loved you, since he sent you, his most precious, away."

Tears began to flow down your cheeks, as you were already on the verge of crying. "I didn't know. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. Even though he's my brother, he deserved to die. It was either Rome or him. But Acacius... Now you see why we consistently sent Acacius to war—to push him into taking action. We even threw him into the Colosseum several times to see if he was worthy of commanding the army. Just for fun.” He confessed. “We despised my father so much that we wanted to destroy everything he had built for Rome. Caracalla, in particular, was intent on this destruction, even if it meant starving the people to death. However, I now realize how wrong we were. Acacius, that honorable man, had to endure our actions for years. We never considered his situation; to us, he was merely an expendable servant." He exhaled. “Everything changed when you came into our lives. First, you healed Acacius, and then you healed me, both body and soul. You entered both of our hearts. But what truly matters is how you healed Rome, how you became a precious part of her. You are the heart of Rome.” He gently caressed your cheek, his hand trembling with a mix of regret and affection. “Yet now, your heart aches because of me. Forgive me for failing to protect him. I should have had Elagabalus eliminated rather than merely banished. This burden of guilt is all mine."

"Blaming yourself won’t alter the outcome. But Acacius is not dead; I hold that belief deep in my soul."

"I sincerely hope you're right, sister.”

A few hurried footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridor, breaking the tense silence. Nerissa appeared, carrying Publius in her arms.

"What’s the situation?" Geta asked the guards.

“Your Majesty, the troops have encircled Domus Severiana,” one guard replied, his voice steady despite the chaos outside. “We must leave immediately.” He glanced anxiously at a fellow guard. “And where is Drusus?”

“He went to scout the exit, but he hasn’t returned yet, sir,” came the worried response.

“Regardless, we have to move. Your Majesty, stay close.”

“Lead the way, then,” Geta said, pulling Nerissa to one side and you to the other. Together, you pressed forward, the sound of your footsteps echoing against the cold stone walls.

You had never ventured this far from the tombs and had no idea there was an escape route. The darkness wrapped around you like a shroud, and the presence of an escape route was a startling revelation. Marcus must have carefully crafted a plan to safeguard everyone before his departure. As you recalled that he had experienced sleepless nights months ago, you understood the reasons behind his anxiety. But what did it accomplish for you, other than keeping you apart?

You continued onward, trying to suppress your anger. You needed to get out of here and reach the villa as soon as possible.

After walking down an endless corridor, you reach a wooden door that opens to the outside. One of the guards drew his sword, approached the door, and slowly opened it. Just as he stepped outside, he was attacked. During the ensuing clash, other guard was ambushed by a man wearing a cloak, similar to the first attacker. Geta quickly pulled you and Nerissa back. The air was thick with tension as the chilling sound of steel clashing echoed through the corridor. Moments later, both guards lay lifeless on the floor, their life force drained, leaving only a gnawing panic coursing through your veins as the attackers advanced, their swords aimed at you.

In a shocking turn, Nerissa released her grip on Geta's hand and stepped forward, her movement very calm, which left you astonished.

“Nerissa, what are you doing?” Geta shouted.

Yet, she remained silent, standing defiantly beside the attackers, her gaze locked onto Geta with intensity.

“The time for revenge has come, Your Majesty, or should I say, my husband?”

Geta narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean? Do you know these men?” 

“I overheard everything when you planned this escape route. They were waiting for you here.” She smiled cruelly.

"Why the hell-"

“You thought I would never find out, didn’t you?” She snapped.

“What are you talking about? I don't-”

“I know how you had my mother and father killed!”

Geta appeared taken aback but maintained his composure. “You knew? All this time, why didn’t you confront me?”

“I found out. Elagabalus revealed everything to me.”

“That bastard doesn’t know shit! Did you truly believe his words?”

“Why did you do it?” Nerissa barked, her voice filled with fury. “Why?” Another bark followed. Publius began to cry, and she handed him to the man beside her. “Get him to the place we discussed,” she ordered, and he nodded in response.

“Where the hell are you taking my son?” Geta shouted, but the other man pointed his sword at him, halting his advance. In a panic, you grabbed Geta's shawl.

“All those years... I stood by your side through it all and obeyed your every command. How could you betray me like this?”

“Nerissa, it was Caracalla who was behind it,” you said. “Geta—”

Geta grabbed your hand and pulled you behind him. “Don’t, Aurelia. This is between us.”

Nerissa laughed. “Between us? I thought there was nothing between us. All this time, I was in love with you. I believed in you, I trusted you, and I hoped that maybe you would love me for the sake of our son. But what did you do? You fell in love with your sister!" She barked as she looked at you. "Do you recognize these people? They came from Athens just to take their revenge, which Elagabalus promised us.”

The men pushed back their hoods, revealing their faces. These were the Greeks from the wedding. Nerissa asked for his sword, and he gave it to her. Then she walked toward Geta, who didn't even flinch, seemed frustrated, realizing he had been fooled all this time—just like you. Both of you are petrified.

"My mother and father came to Rome just to speak to you and your brother. Why did you have them killed? Did you enjoy hiding the truth from me? Did you laugh behind my back while I was foolishly serving you without knowing anything? You took pleasure in having me after you killed them, didn’t you? That’s who you are!"

“No, that's not true!” Geta shouted.

“Caracalla wanted to kill them in front of you, to make you watch. I prevented him. Yes, I let them be killed, and I don’t deny that. But I kept it from you because I knew how devastated you would be. I was afraid you’d do something reckless and get yourself killed. I cared for you; I wanted you by my side. I was trying to protect you from Caracalla.”

"Yet you pushed me into his bed."

Geta squeezed his eyes shut, a look of regret on his face. "I had to, and I'll never forgive myself for it, but he would have killed you for sure if I hadn't. You know what he was like - his anger was unlike mine; it blinded him."

"So you did it to protect me? Then why didn't you love me? Was it so hard?" Nerissa's eyes began to fill with tears.

"I wanted to, I really tried,” Geta murmured. "But I cared for you, Nerissa." His tone was sincere. “I still do.”

A few footsteps approached from behind you, causing the men to tense up in that direction.

"My lady, we must leave at once. The ship is ready and waiting to sail," someone urged Nerissa.

Nerissa shot another deadly glance at Geta. "I don’t believe you. Whatever you say or do, it won't change what you've done."

Geta nodded and spread his arms wide. "Go ahead then. Do what you must."

"No!" you shouted, grabbing his arm. "Geta, what are you doing?"

"Let her do it, Aurelia. I deserve it."

You looked at Nerissa. "Please, Nerissa, stop! Revenge won't bring your mother and father back! I know you love Geta. Do you really want your son to grow up without a father? What will you tell him one day when he asks about his father?"

“He will know what his father has done and will hate him. I will make sure of it!”

Geta held your hand and pulled you toward the exit. "You can kill me, but let Aurelia go. She has nothing to do with this, and you know that. She was always kind to you."

Nerissa narrowed her eyes."You value her life over your own. Even in your final moments, you think of her. You love her more than you ever loved me."

"Stop it and just do what you're going to do!" Geta barked.

The sounds were getting closer. Nerissa tried to thrust the sword, Geta, but her hands trembled when she looked him in the eye. One of the men seized the sword from her. “My lady, we’re out of time. Let me handle this.”

Nerissa handed him the sword. “Kill her first,” she said, glancing at you. “He’ll understand what I’m going through as he watches his most precious one die.”

You gasped as he brought the sword to your neck. You closed your eyes tightly, and Geta shouted, “NO!”

You whispered softly to yourself with your eyes closed, "Marcus, I love you.”

In the blink of an eye, a black shadow appeared before your eyelids, and you heard the sharp sound of a sword cutting through fabric and flesh. A choking sound, followed by a growl, and a few strands of hair grazed your cheek. When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Geta's blonde hair. Herd, and as you reached out to grab him, the weight and shock of the moment caused your knees to buckle, and you collapsed. The crown on Geta's head fell to the floor as he toppled backward onto you, the sound echoing through the stone corridor. But there was a more terrible sound. Geta had been hit hard by the sword in the stomach and blood was oozing from the cut. He was making choking noises, and his breathing was becoming increasingly difficult.

"No, no, no, no, no," You mumbled as you pressed both of your hands against his abdomen, where blood was gushing out.

“Aurelia!"

It was Lucius' voice, but you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. Geta's eyelids seemed to grow heavier by the second as he struggled to breathe.

Lucius hurled a knife at one of the men as he charged them. The blade struck the man in the chest, causing him to stagger backwards and fall. With remarkable speed and agility, Lucius deftly slashed at the other attacker with his sword. While you sobbed violently as Nerissa ran away in panic, seemingly unconcerned.

“Lucius! Please help me!” you cried, pressing your hands against Geta’s injury, but the blood continued to flow violently.

When Lucius noticed the blood pooling on the floor and realized it was also flowing down Geta's back, he scowled. The sword cut through him, and he realized it meant only one thing. "Aurelia..."

‘What should we do? Maybe if we stitch him up,’ you gasped.

Blood poured from Geta's mouth as he coughed, and more started to seep from the corner of his lips.

Lucius gently touched your cheek. “Aurelia...” As you looked into his blue eyes, you understood what he was implying, but you were unwilling to accept it.

“No, no, no! We can save him. Geta! Look at me!” You held his face in both hands, tears streaming down your cheeks.

His blood-stained lips curled into a smile. Coughing, "It's blissful..." "...to die..." he muttered, again coughing up blood, "...in your arms," rolling his eyes as his eyelids flitted open and shut.

"You're not going to die!“Look at me! No! No!” Your desperate cries reverberated against the cold, unforgiving stone walls, creating a haunting echo that felt as if it were mocking your pleas.

Lucius grabbed your shoulders and shook you. “Aurelia, we have to go now! The soldiers have entered the courtyard; they’ll be here soon! We don’t have time!”

You were engulfed in a haze of shock, your hands trembling as you shook Geta violently. “Geta!”

Yet, he remained unresponsive, his eyes closed in an unsettling stillness.

“He's gone, Aurelia,” Lucius’s voice cut through the silence, reverberating painfully in your ears. “He's dead,” he repeated his words a cruel echo of your own fears. “Let me save you.” With a sense of urgency, he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you as if trying to carry you away from the heartbreaking scene.

“No, Lucius! He can't die! Please! GETA!” Desperation clawed at your throat as you fought against him, your sobs raw and choked. You reached out, stretching your hands toward Geta, as if the mere act of touching him could breathe life back into his still form. The atmosphere around you shifted as the metallic clang of soldiers' armour and the hurried tread of feet echoed down the corridor.

“Find them now!” a commanding voice boomed.

Lucius grasped your blood-soaked wrist in a desperate grip. "We must go now!"

Your body felt weak, a puppet torn from its strings, each sob dragging you further into the despair and aching throbbing of your loss.

"Hurry, Aurelia! We might have a chance if we take this path!" His voice urged you forward. But your legs felt weak, and you feared you would fall at any moment. It was all too overwhelming—too much pain and loss. Lucius stopped and looked at you, his expression earnest. "Aurelia, we have to get out of here now before the soldiers find us. Do you hear me? They were talking about arresting you. Think of your children. Think of Marcius. We need to get him somewhere safe."

Suddenly, all your senses returned. "Marcius, my son," you murmured. He was right—Elagabalus would want to eliminate the entire imperial family before claiming the throne. "Let's go, Lucius!" you urged, meeting his gaze.

He nodded. "Come, this way."

A little further along the banks of the Tiber, you emerged onto the plain, where Felix met you, flanked by two horses. "My lady, we must leave at once. Cato is at the villa; I sent him ahead to finalize the preparations."

You nodded in response. Lucius mounted one of the horses and extended his hand to you. "Come on."

Felix jumped onto the other horse as you settled behind him. But the soldiers had spotted you. "Hey! Stop right there!"

Fortunately, they didn’t have horses. You wrapped your arms tightly around Lucius as he and Felix kicked their horses forward. The soldiers yelled after you and ran, but they couldn’t keep up. You knew they would head to the villa, and your only hope was to reach it before they did. You turned your head for one last look at the silhouette of Palatine Hill disappearing behind you, your mind was clouded with thoughts of Geta. It felt surreal and almost unbearable to accept that he was gone, leaving behind an echo of memories that tugged at your heart.

--

to be continued...

Notes:

I apologise to those who love Geta, but now we are approaching the end of the story and I will end this series even though I don't want to, you know everything has an end and I want to do it in the best way while ending it, I will probably end it in the 30th chapter, I hope you are still enjoying it, love you all:)

Chapter 25: Sorrow

A Fronte Praecipitium, A Tergo Lupi.

A precipice in front, wolves behind.

 

As you arrived at the villa, you jumped off the horse, with Lucius helping you down with a firm hand. You dashed into the courtyard, your heart pounding with urgency. The moment Tullia and the others spotted you, their faces bore a mix of concern and relief. They then realized you were covered in blood, but their concern melted away when they noticed you were unharmed, not physically at least. Decima approached you, cradling Marcius closely, while Norell held your little girl protectively against her chest.

“We must leave at once, my lady,” Felix urged, his voice urgent. “They will be here soon.”

The carriage was already prepared.

“My lady, your clothes...” Tullia began, her eyes scanning your disheveled appearance. “Let me help you change—”

“I'm afraid there's no time,” Lucius interrupted.

“Don't worry, I'll be fine; we'll be fine,” you promised, offering them a reassuring smile despite your own burgeoning fear, noticing the unshed tears glistening in their eyes.

“I wish you could have come with me,” you confessed, a lump forming in your throat.

“We'd only slow you down,” Tullia replied, her voice steady despite the sorrow etched on her features.

“It is only important that you are safe, my lady,” Norell added, her gaze steady and resolute. “We will follow after you reach safety.”

Tullia took your hand in hers, warmth and worry swirling in her grip. “Gods help you; my prayers are with you, Domina,” she said.

You hugged her tightly, tears streamed down your face.

With a heavy heart, you took one last look at their worried faces before climbing into the carriage beside Decima, leaving the safety of your home behind for the uncertain and perilous journey that lay ahead.

During the travel to escort you and your children to a safe location, Felix and Cato were stationed directly behind the carriage, flanked on either side by two additional soldiers. Lucius positioned himself at the back with one soldier accompanying him.

The enormous gate of the yard creaked open, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around your little girl, pulling her tightly against you as the carriage surged forward down the dusty road. The air was thick with the smell of earth and the sounds of hooves thundering against the ground. Marcius, perched joyfully on Decima's lap, radiated innocence and happiness, his joy a stark contrast to the tension surrounding you. His brown eyes sparkled, mirroring the deep warmth of his father's gaze. In that moment, you knew you could face the worst fate imaginable—a fate that could even take your own life—but losing him was inconceivable. You would fight tooth and nail to ensure he and your little girl would survive.

Suddenly, the distant sound of neighing horses pierced the air, sending a shiver down your spine. You exchanged anxious glances with Decima, the worry evident in your furrowed brows.

“Felix! We’re being followed!” Cato's voice sliced through the tension, urgency lacing his words.

“Shit!” Felix’s roared.

Lucius turned swiftly in his saddle, his eyes narrowing as he spotted two imposing horsemen advancing. “You go ahead; I’ll hold them off!” he shouted.

“You go with him!” Felix snapped at the other soldier.

“Yes, sir!” the soldier replied, drawing his sword with a practiced motion, the blade glinting.

Lucius pivoted his horse, ready to confront the impending threat.

Panic surged within you as you peered out the carriage window, your heart racing at the sight of him riding away to face danger alone.

“Lucius!” you cried out, desperation filling your voice.

But your fear deepened as you realized it wasn’t just two horsemen—more were galloping toward you, a dark wave of impending doom closing in.

“Ride faster! Do not stop, no matter what!” Felix commanded the coachman, sword drawn and ready. The soldiers rallied behind him, drawing their weapons and positioning themselves defensively to shield the carriage as more horsemen closed in from all sides. Chaos erupted into a full-fledged battle.

"Cut off the carriage!" a voice pierced through the chaos. A surge of soldiers emerged, and two of them forced the coachman to stop. Overwhelmed with terror, you clutched your little girl tightly as the carriage came to a sudden and forceful halt. In the midst of the turmoil, you felt a sharp pain as your head struck the rough edge of the carriage. The sounds of battle mingled with your daughter’s frightened cries, amplifying the chaos that surrounded you.

“Aurelia! Are you alright?” Decima cried, her fingers brushing the spot where you had struck your head, noticing a trickle of blood oozing down your temple.

“Yes, I believe so. But what about you?”

"Thank Gods, we're alright." She said. You both checked Marcius to see if he's hurt.

Marcius whimpered, crying as tears glistened in his eyes. You leaned down and gently pressed a soothing kiss atop his head.

“What are we going to do now?” Decima murmured.

“I do not know,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, weighed down by uncertainty.

Sitting anxiously in the carriage, you peeked outside through the small window. The cacophony of clashing swords and anguished shouts reached your ears. The oppressive confinement began to suffocate you, and, with a sense of deliberate resolve, you eased the carriage door open. You were feeling trapped, so you sought an opportunity to escape.

The scene outside was a whirlwind of despair. Felix, Cato, and other soldiers fought bravely against others, their swords glinting fiercely and the sound of metal echoing through the woods. Suddenly, a soldier charging to aid you was struck down, an arrow piercing his throat with deadly precision. He crumpled to the ground, the life draining from his eyes, and a cry of horror escaped your lips.

"You fools! Do not harm the princess!"

The words echoed through the chaos like a piercing bell, and their owner was unmistakably Varus. A cold shiver ran down your spine as you saw him stride towards you, determination etched into his features.

Was he here for Marcius?

If he had been scheming alongside Elagabalus all this time, his intentions were as perilous as a hungry wolf’s gaze. Your thoughts raced, and in that frantic moment, instinct kicked in. You lunged for the sword lying abandoned on the ground, the cold steel belonging to a soldier felled by an unseen arrow. It was heavier than you anticipated, a weight that felt foreign in your hands. Memories of Marcus's training flickered in your mind, the lessons with the wooden sword that now seemed a distant memory. You fought against the nervous tremor in your hands and clutched the weapon tighter, forcing yourself to focus.

“It’s dangerous out there; stay inside!” you called to Decima, urgency lacing your voice. Her wide eyes mirrored the turmoil around you, but there was no escape for you or the children. The air was thick with the tension of too many soldiers, their presence forming a formidable wall of steel and intent, sealing off any chance of escape.

Felix jumped in front of Varus, who was approaching you, and made a move to stab him with his sword but failed. Another soldier advanced toward you, and you lifted your sword. It felt heavy in your hands. You tried to lunge but, shaking, fell to your knees. Quickly picking yourself up, you found Varus grabbing you by the arm and lifting you off the ground. “You will hurt yourself with that sword, my lady,” he grinned as he easily took the weapon from you and threw it away.

You glanced at the other soldier who opened the carriage door and forcibly pulled Marcius away from Decima. “No!” you shouted with all your might. You lunged toward him, but Varus's strong arm held you back. “Get your hands off me!”

When Lucius heard your cries, he swung his sword at his opponent before charging at him and plunging his pugio into his back without the other soldier realizing. With a groan of agony, the soldier released Marcius, but Lucius caught him before he could fall to the ground.

“Marcius!” you cried out as you lunged toward him, but once again, your effort fell short. Panicking, you shouted at Varus, “Let go!” as you twisted and turned, struggling against his grip.

Lucius quickly handed Marcius back to Decima and shouted, “Get back in the carriage now!”

He was on his way to save you when a number of arrows suddenly fell onto them; they purposefully pointed them at them rather than at you, which infuriated you. Before she could get to the carriage, Decima was struck, and she and Marcius tumbled to the ground. The shaft of the arrow had become trapped in Marcius' tiny body, precisely in his chest, after piercing Decima's arm around him. In order to avoid crushing him with her own weight, Decima placed her palm on the ground and used her arm for support. You forgot to breathe as Marcius lay there with his eyes closed. "MARCIUS!" you screamed at the top of your lungs. Your entire body shook with pain, shock, and wrath.

Your screams caused Felix Cato Lucius and the others to pause for a moment as they fought their opponents, but only to continue fighting back with more fury and determination.

Varus felt a sense of satisfaction as he saw Marcius lying motionless on the ground. “Kill every last one of them!” he shouted while pulling you closer, away from your family.

You struggled with all your strength, pulling the pugio from its scabbard at Varus' waist and swinging it at his throat with a quick thrust. But he was quicker than you; he caught your hand instantly. However, you could make a cut, just enough for the blood to flow. Groaning, Varus became so furious that he struck you with such force that, before you realized it, you suddenly collapsed onto the dusty ground, and darkness surrounded you like a thick fog, swallowing every trace of light and consciousness.

——

About thirty-six hours later, Marcus and Octavius finally reached the Rome. The streets glistened with rain, reflecting the fading light of the sun as it dipped below the horizon, ceding the sky to the watchful moon. It felt as if the heavens themselves were weeping for the tragedy that had befallen the city below. Peering out from a lofty hill, Marcus inhaled deeply, a sense of homecoming washing over him; yet, he remained blissfully unaware that he had arrived too late.

As they urged their weary horses toward the grand city, an ominous silence enveloped them. Despite their frantic ride, fatigue weighed heavily on their bodies after a relentless day and a half of travel. As they passed under the arch dedicated to Romulus and Remus, a shiver of unease ran through Marcus. The soldiers usually stationed near the gates - silent sentinels of the city - were conspicuously absent.

The streets stretched before them like empty veins, leading ominously toward the Colosseum and the Roman Forum, devoid of the usual life and laughter. It felt as though the city itself had been abandoned, its heart stilled. Dim shadows danced behind the darkened windows of homes and buildings, their inhabitants seemingly swallowed by despair.

The rain continued to fall, each drop echoing softly as the horses’ hooves clattered against the slick stone streets. As they approached a winding path leading to Palatine Hill, Marcus and Octavius exchanged concerned glances, disturbed by the hushed whispers that brushed against their ears like an unsettling breeze. Further along, a massive crowd came into view, their murmurs swelling into a crescendo of grief.

They saw the crowd gathered around Palatine Hill, torches flickering like haunted fireflies in the dusky gloom. A deep sorrow hung in the air, palpable and heavy. Women wept openly, their cries piercing the night, while men and children stood silently, their faces etched with heartache and confusion. The sense of foreboding thickened as Marcus and Octavius realized they had ridden into a storm of misery that had engulfed their beloved city.

Marcus frowned, suspecting more or less what it meant. But soldiers were everywhere, and it was dangerous for him to approach Palatine Hill before he knew for sure what had happened. No one knew he was alive yet, and it was best to keep it that way for a while. You were the only one on his mind, and he needed to make his way to the villa because he was worried about his family. As tired as they were, they had to press on; his concern for his family was overwhelming.

When they soon arrived at the villa, he jumped off his horse. The animal was so exhausted that it did not even move after he dismounted. Marcus's tired legs trembled as they approached the courtyard. There was no sign of life in the villa—no sounds, no lights, nothing. The courtyard, where Marcius had taken his first steps and where the slaves once hurried to do their work, was now eerily quiet.

He glanced at the lectus and the table in the corner and imagined you sitting there when he returned from his evening duties. You would have gotten up immediately to greet him, rushing to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He then sighed, and he climbed the stairs to your room. The wind blew through the window, causing the tulle to dance around your once cozy, now abandoned bed. As he looked at the bed, all his memories flashed before his eyes, and his heart ached with the feeling of abandonment.

It was too late…

He spotted a delicate piece of his little girl’s swaddling clothes lying on the bed. He picked it up and brought it to his nose, inhaling the sweet, soothing scent that lingered like a cherished memory. Suddenly, his gaze darted toward the wooden closet across the room. He leaped to his feet, urgency propelling him forward. As he neared the closet, a sinking realization washed over him—the shelves had been emptied. Only yours and children's clothes that were missing; Marcus's own clothes remained undisturbed in their place. A flicker of hope ignited within him, a glimmer of what he had suspected.

With quickened steps, he left the room and descended the stairs, where Octavius was just returning from the stables, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Acacius, all the horses and the carriage have been taken,” he said.

“So have the clothes,” Marcus replied.

“Do you think they could be where we discussed earlier?” Octavius asked.

“Let’s get moving,” Marcus urged. But at that moment, a rustling noise from the courtyard near the kitchen caught their attention, snapping them into alertness. Marcus instinctively drew his sword, the blade glinting in the dim light, and signaled for Octavius to follow him.

With caution, Octavius advanced toward the sound, his footsteps calculated, while Marcus broke away to flank from the other side, every muscle tensed and ready.

As the door connecting the kitchen to the back garden creaked shut, Octavius turned back toward the stables, his instincts sharp. Marcus surged into the courtyard, adrenaline coursing through him as he began to close in on the fleeing figure, who seemed to dart away like a shadow.

The cloaked man froze, panic flashing across his face as Marcus intercepted him with skillful precision. With a swift motion, he lifted the hood with the tip of his sword, revealing the identity hidden beneath. The mix of surprise and joy that washed over Marcus was unmistakable.

“Cato?” he exclaimed, disbelief transforming into relief in an instant.

Cato, who had been tightly squeezing his eyes shut, suddenly heard his general’s voice. He opened his eyes and gasped, his gaze widening in surprise. “General!”

Octavius stepped toward them, and as the realization hit him that it was indeed Cato, he swiftly sheathed his sword, the metal sliding with a reassuring click. Cato looked at him, equally puzzled. “Octavius, sir!” He laughed. “You're alive too! You both alive!” He then lunged towards Marcus and hugged him. Marcus smiled as he patted him on the back. “We're alive, Cato, and we're back.”

“Thank the gods!”

“Cato, what were you doing here? Where is everyone?” Octavius asked.

“I—I came here to get some herbs, then I heard horses and hid. I thought it was the soldiers.”

“Did you say herbs?”

Cato lowered his head, his expression shifting to one of deep sorrow as if the weight of his worries hung heavily upon him.

“What happened, Cato? Aurelia, my children... Are they all right?” Marcus's voice trembled with anxiety as he searched Cato’s eyes for answers.

Cato glanced towards the road. “I'll tell you everything, but... Come with me now; it's not safe here anymore, but everyone is all right, hiding in the place we agreed on before.”

“Let’s head there, Octavius,” Marcus urged, his voice steady yet tinged with urgency. He turned to Cato. "But have you come all this way on foot? What of the horse?"

“I’ve hidden it out of sight, sir,” Cato replied, a hint of anxiety in his tone. “Tied it in the bushes.”

“Then come with me,” Marcus instructed, leaping onto his horse with practiced ease before reaching out to help Cato mount. Together, they rode into the dappled shade of the forest, the air rich with the scent of damp earth and the rustle of leaves. As they approached the location Cato had mentioned, Marcus felt a growing sense of unease; this was not the place they had discussed. Instead, they had arrived at an old villa nestled among the trees, its weathered stone walls barely visible through the ivy that clung to them like a shroud. The villa, belonging to his cousin Agrippa, loomed quietly by the river—a ghost of its former grandeur, now vacant since Agrippa was away commanding the northern legions.

This villa served as a contingency plan - a refuge for the most dire of circumstances, especially if Geta were to be deposed and Marcus did not return. Marcus' real plan, however, was to go elsewhere, as it was the safest option away from Rome.

"Why have you brought us here?" Marcus asked, dismounting and surveying their surroundings. "Or?"

“Sir, the soldiers and General Varus intercepted the carriage...” Cato hesitated, his voice faltering. “We had no other choice…”

As soon as Cato stepped into the courtyard, Felix and Lucius switched into action and drew their swords. They exchanged glances and signaled to each other. The struggle for survival and the mission to protect the general's family had quickly forged a bond between them. These two men, once soldiers on opposing fronts, were now united against a common enemy.

When they saw Cato, both breathed a sigh of relief.

“Cato, what took you so long—”

Their words froze in their throats as they noticed two men following him. Felix's eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he recognized Marcus and Octavian. Lucius stared at them in astonishment.

“G-General...” Felix managed to stammer, a mix of disbelief and joy flooding his chest. “General!” he exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Octavius!” he called out, his voice cracking with exuberance.

Two more soldiers approached, equally surprised to see Marcus.

“General!” one of them called out.

“It's really him!” another exclaimed.

One of those soldiers was Aris, who approached Felix with his mouth agape. “Is it really him?” he asked.

“Unless the god Morpheus has put us in a dream...” Felix muttered.

Cato chuckled at this. Lucius rolled his eyes, while Octavius and Marcus exchanged glances.

“Should we poke him?” Aris asked, still in disbelief. Felix poked Aris's shoulder hard.

"Ah! Not me, you fool!" Aris snapped, pointing at Marcus.

When Felix reached out to poke Marcus in the shoulder, Marcus caught his hand and playfully slapped him in the face. "What kind of bad manners is that?" he asked with mock annoyance.

"Look at these dummies, Acacius," Octavius chuckled, Marcus grinning.

Felix and Aris exchanged embarrassed laughter, filled with relief and joy. “I’d recognize that commanding voice anywhere! It’s really them!”

“They're not dead! They're alive!” the group erupted in cheers, their voices echoing together.

Suddenly, a wave of joy swept through them. Felix and Aris hugged Marcus tightly as Lucius sheathed his sword. Marcus, a little shaken by their enthusiastic embrace and moaning a little, still, couldn’t help but laugh as well. Octavius, aware of the wounds on Marcus’s chest and hand, felt a surge of concern. "Stop it, you fools; you’ll make our General regret being alive!" he chastised.

Felix wiped away his tears as he stepped back to look at his face once more. "General, sir, you are alive! You have returned."

Marcus gently touched his shoulder. "Indeed, Felix. I am alive, brother."

"Thank the gods," Aris said, also wiping away his tears.

They touched each other's shoulders and exchanged joyful glances. Lucius stood a little behind, watching the reunion unfold with a smile. After a breath, Marcus turned his gaze toward him and nodded.

"Lucius."

"Acacius," he greeted in return.

Marcus's heart raced as the sound of a baby’s cry pierced the air. He instinctively glanced over Lucius's shoulder and his breath caught at the sight of Tullia and Norell approaching, their faces painted with shock.

“Master!” Tullia exclaimed, her arms wide open and walked towards him. her hands gently resting on his shoulders. “Thank Jupiter! Thank all the gods, you're alive, you've returned!”

“I have, Tullia,” Marcus replied, a broad smile spreading across his face that lit up his weary eyes. He turned to Norell, who cradled her little girl with great tenderness. With a gentle touch, he took the baby into his arms. Norell’s joy was silent, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she offered him a smile that spoke volumes.

As Marcus breathed in the sweet, familiar scent of his child, he bent down to kiss the top of her head, a wave of longing washing over him. He missed her more than words could express.

Turning to Tullia, he asked, “Where are Marcius and Aurelia?”

Tullia’s brow furrowed as she bowed her head, tears beginning to cascade down her cheeks. Marcus quickly returned the baby to Norell’s arms as he saw Lucius and Cato rush into a room.

Hoping to find his answer there, Marcus followed them into a small, dimly lit room, his heart sinking at the sight before him. Marcius lay on a mattress, his small body still and wrapped in bandages. Lucius hurriedly sifted through the herbs and vials Cato had brought, sniffing them with urgency, trying to decipher their purpose, while Marcus approached the bed with a growing sense of dread.

“What happened to him?” he whispered, his voice cracking.

A heavy silence enveloped the room as everyone exchanged looks, each one reflecting their sorrow and concern, but no one found the courage to speak an answer.

In the corner, Decima and Octavius held each other tightly. But Octavius's brow furrowed deeply when he noticed the bandage wrapped around Decima’s upper arm.

“What happened to your arm?” he asked.

Decima was unable to respond; her only answer was a tight embrace, tears flowing freely as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"As we headed towards the location we had discussed, we were suddenly caught off guard by an ambush, sir," Felix said, his voice trembling. "Varus and his men pursued us, and they outnumbered us. Please forgive me." He bowed his head in shame, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his failure.

Marcus gazed at his son, the rising tide of tears shimmering in his eyes like fragile glass.

"An arrow struck him in the upper chest," Lucius said, his hands steady as he poured a healing mixture onto a cloth, the scent of herbs filling the room.

Marcus was frozen in disbelief. He sank to his knees, his lips pressing against his little boy's forehead, warm tears streaming down his cheeks as he gently stroked the boy's hair. "Did you say an arrow?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, the arrow struck Decima’s arm before hitting Marcius. If her arm hadn’t slowed its deadly speed…" Lucius's voice trailed off, and a heavy silence enveloped the room, each person acutely aware of the unspoken truth hanging in the air.

Marcus turned to Decima, taking in her pale face, then back to his son. Lucius worked meticulously, applying a herbal ointment to the wound, the boy's small form trembling slightly with each touch. "Fortunately, the arrowhead didn’t penetrate deeply; he’s still alive," Lucius continued. "It's a miracle for such a small child to survive such an injury - what I'm witnessing is beyond anything I've ever seen in my life. He has beaten death, just like his father, I believe." He gave Marcus a reassuring smile.

Wiping away his tears, Marcus managed a weak smile in return. "Please, do your utmost. Save my son."

"I’m doing everything I can; don’t worry."

"I'm grateful to you, Lucius."

Then Marcus realized that something was missing. “Aurelia must be devastated. Where is she?” he asked.

Everyone lowered their heads. It was a difficult question to answer, and no one had the courage to say that to Marcus.

However, Marcus's patience had run out. He looked at Felix sharply as he approached him. “Forgive me, sir,” he said again, his voice trembling. “I could not protect her.” He bowed his head, unable to meet Marcus's gaze.

“What do you mean by that? Did she...” Marcus whispered, feeling his heart shatter into pieces. When he looked around, everyone else averted their eyes.

“They took her, sir,” Cato explained. “They hunted us down and ambushed us. They were going to kill us all, but luckily Aris and the others arrived just in time.”

“Varus had already left with Lady Aurelia when Aris showed up. They probably think we've either died or escaped,” he continued.

“We had to come here and hide in case they came looking for us. Besides, Marcius...” Cato hesitated, realizing Marcus’s growing anger.

“Varus, you filthy dog!” Marcus growled, clenching his fists.

“We couldn’t protect Emperor Geta either,” Aris added. “I couldn’t go to help Darius; there were too many of them. Empress Nerissa, Varus, and Elagabalus must have planned this together, but we don’t know much yet.”

"We must save the Lady Aurelia," Octavius said, looking directly at Marcus. "They may also kill her."

Lucius stood up and faced Marcus. “I don’t think they intend to kill her. If that were their aim, they would have done it during the ambush. They were talking about arresting her.”

Marcus turned his back to them, trembling with rage, making a fist to pound it against the stone wall as the weight of the situation consumed him. Ignoring the blood oozing from his hand.

“I shall rip his lungs out.” He made a promise to himself, gritting his teeth in anger.

—-

You jolted awake, a wave of anguish crashing over you, weaving through both body and soul. The familiar embrace of pain gripped you once again, yet this time felt like a tempest brewing beneath your chin, a painful reminder of yesterday's chaos and the hard knock of a masculine hand against your face. But that was nothing compared to the ache simmering deep within your heart, a gaping wound that throbbed with every beat. Memories surfaced, sharp and intense, and your throat constricted as you struggled to breathe. The image of the arrow striking Marcius' body wouldn't go away, haunting you relentlessly. Suddenly, you gasped for breath as the pain intensified. This pain felt very different from what you felt for Geta and Marcus. You were surprised that you could endure so much suffering, and you truly wondered how you were still alive. A twinge of guilt washed over you when you realized you were angry with the gods for the unbearable tragedies that had befallen you. It was all simply too much—excruciating and overwhelming. Driven by a survival instinct, you felt compelled to find a way to endure this pain, ease it. These feelings ultimately led you to an emotion as powerful as the pain itself: a desire for vengeance.

You slowly opened your eyes. The first thing you noticed was a small window with iron bars set high in a stone wall. Since you were lying against the wall, the sunlight that filtered in didn't reach you. As you began to hear the sounds around you—the clanging of metal as soldiers marched and muttered—you turned your head. You spotted two guards standing with their backs turned behind the iron bars. The cell was larger than the one Macrinus had imprisoned you in before; it contained a mattress, a table, and even food on the table. This must be one of the special cells for an imperial member. That meant you had been brought to Palatine Hill. You pushed back the disheveled hair from your face, which smelled of blood and sweat, and sat up.  Your clothes were in a terrible state, shabby, worn, just like your heart. Geta's blood, still present on you, had a dark red tinge, dried on your light blue stola. Your sobs and cries returned, your heart breaking repeatedly as you thought of Marcus, Geta, and your son Marcius, leaving you feeling as though you were on the verge of losing your grip.

Suddenly, the echo of footsteps broke the silence, sending a rush of anger through your veins as you heard his voice.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Varus said, a sinister grin stretching across his face. He loomed in front of the cold iron bars, his gaze piercing through, studying you with an unsettling intensity.

You clenched the fabric of your dress tightly, the soft texture pressing against your skin, attempting to offer solace. Yet, your body vibrated with an unmistakable fury. Every muscle pulsed with a powerful combination of fear and rage, igniting an intense fire within you that demanded to be unleashed.

"You filthy bastard!" you shouted, lunging at him.

He remained completely still because iron bars stood between him and you, acting as friends to him and enemies to you.

"I'll kill you!" you yelled, gripping the bars. Your pain outweighed your anger. "What did you want from him, a little child? How could you?" Your sobs and cries grew louder.

"Behave yourself, Lady Aurelia," Varus growled threateningly.

"If I don't, what will you do? Will you also murder me? What difference would it make if you killed me as well? You've already killed my son."

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it the moment you attempted to kill me, my lady, but if you ever do anything stupid like that again, I'll make sure you meet your son in Elysium."

"Filthy dog!" You shouted. "I swear your death will be by my hand, I swear it!"

Varus angrily struck the iron bars with his hand. "Enough! Stop it!"

"What did you want from him? Why did you—?” You murmured, your knees gave way, and you collapsed, your sobs echoing in the stone cell. It was a plea that would make anyone with a conscience shudder, but Varus was not a man of conscience.

"If you promise to behave, I will let you out of the cell. His Majesty wants to see you," he said, looking at you coldly.

Out of the cell... Perhaps you could have the chance to kill him.

"My Lady, I don't have all day to wait for your answer." He said mockingly.

What an arsehole.

You focused your attention on the gleaming dagger, the pugio, resting at the waist of one of the guards. A surge of determination washed over you as you began to formulate your plan. With a slow nod, you met Varus’s gaze, and his grin widened. “Good. Open the cell,” he commanded.

As the guard unlocked the cell door, you rose to your feet, your heart racing. Your eyes were locked on the pugio, its hilt inviting and within reach. As you stepped out of the cell, a rush of adrenaline coursed through you. You darted past the guard, swiftly lunging for the handle of the dagger at his side, fingers brushing against the cool metal. In an exhilarating instant, you managed to unhook it. But before you could pivot towards Varus, his grip clamped down on your arm, yanking you back.

With a swift motion, he disarmed you, taking the pugio and slamming you against the stone wall. The impact jolted through your body like a thunderclap, a sharp groan escaping your lips as pain radiated from your back, merging humiliation with fury.

"Did your husband teach you to do this, my lady?" You swallowed as he ran the sharp surface of the pugio against your neck. "But he’s gone now, how sad."

Ignoring his amusement, you narrowed your eyes at him. "I may have failed now, but you can be sure that one day I will stick a knife down your stinking throat."

Laughing wickedly, he leaned in, his breath grazing your earlobe, the kind that makes you feel sick to your stomach. "If you weren't such a beautiful and distinguished woman, I would have killed you already."

He returned the pugio to the guard and grabbed your arm, pulling it roughly as he walked. "Enough of this nonsense. “Move.”

As Varus led you from the cell into the Domus Severiana, you surveyed your surroundings, feeling a deep sense of despair. Memories of Geta and Marcus flooded your mind, while the rich, intricate details of the architecture seemed to taunt you. Those cherished images were overshadowed by visions of others—individuals who had proved themselves unworthy of the titles they held. The warmth of this place, which once felt like home, now felt cold and invasive; its calm atmosphere was dimmed by the weight of your sorrow.

When the doors of the Great Hall opened, you stepped inside to face one of the most upsetting sights imaginable. In the same hall where Geta had once greeted you with a warm smile, Elagabalus now occupied Geta's imperial throne, smiling ominously at you. You couldn't decide whether this vision was painful or simply annoying, but it was evident that you were hurt once again. Elagabalus was slightly younger than Geta and a bit taller than Caracalla, but he was clearly more twisted. He pursed his lips as he scrutinized you from head to toe, yet made no effort to rise. Even Caracalla would have stood upon seeing you, but Elagabalus remained smug and unyielding.

"Oh, our beautiful Princess Aurelia!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together, echoing through the hall. "Even in your wretched state, you radiate a certain brilliance; it’s simply extraordinary." His words felt like daggers, cutting deeper as he reveled in your predicament.

Your body moved involuntarily toward him, the urge to lunge and grab him by the throat overwhelming you. However, Varus tightened his grip, indifferent to the pain it caused you. Anyways, no matter what he did, you knew he couldn't hurt you anymore, not after what he did.

"I must say that I am truly sorry for all of this, my dear," he continued. "If only your late husband, Acacius, had responded differently to the message I sent him and followed my request, perhaps we wouldn’t be in this situation. Just look at you; that’s all—"

"Don't you dare speak his name!" you snarled, fierce anger boiling within you as your voice broke through the tension.

"Hmm, I understand that emotions are running high, and you're feeling hurt and frustrated," he replied with an air of condescension, "But I must insist that you do not interrupt me again.”

You gave him a penetrating look. "Or what? What are you going to do? Torture me? Kill me? Then do it."

He shook his head repeatedly. "No, no, no. You are not an ordinary woman. The citizens of Rome are already experiencing..." he thought of the right words. "...considerable unrest," pursed his lips. "I do not wish to further provoke their discontent. They hold you in high regard. Therefore, I will determine your fate after the funeral.”

"Funeral," you whispered.

“I am not so devoid of compassion as to deny my cousin a proper funeral,” he responded smugly. “That is the purpose of my summons. If you wish to pay your respects, he is located in the other hall; the guards will take you there. Tomorrow, in a grand ceremony, the people of Rome will bid him farewell, and I will officially declare myself emperor.” His tone conveyed a sense of excitement.

“You monster! Traitor! It’s all your fault!” You shouted as you lunged at him. A familiar face stopped you this time. You were so distraught that you didn’t realize Darius was there until he grasped your arm.

“Darius, let me go! I'll kill him!”

Elagabalus tilted his head to the side, his expression a blend of astonishment and amusement. “Well, what General Varus said about you was true, I see,” he remarked, his voice dripping with playful curiosity.

Varus smirked. "I can tell she's got a fighting spirit, your highness."

Elagabalus erupted into laughter, a sound that rang with a mocking cadence, inciting a flame of anger within you.

“My lady, please calm yourself,” Darius urged, his voice gentle yet firm.

You shoved his hands away defensively, the frustration boiling over. “Are you on his side too? My brother Geta cared for you!”

“I’m only doing my duty, my lady,” he replied. “Serving the emperor is my only obligation.” As he spoke, a suggestive glint flickered in his eyes, leaving you uncertain of his intentions.

"I liked you, Commander Darius. You deserve your title," Elagabalus said with a grin. Darius bowed respectfully in response.

As you observed him, you weren't completely sure, but it seemed like Darius was putting on an act. Nevertheless, you felt anger towards him for not being able to protect Geta.

Suddenly, the heavy door swung open, and the guards stormed in, dragging Nerissa by the arm. She struggled against their grip, defiance etched across her face, just as you had.

“Oh, there’s Empress Nerissa. Come closer, dear,” he gestured to her, a wicked glint in his eyes. It was difficult to discern his thoughts.

“Elagabalus! You bastard! You promised I would return to Athens, my home!” she shouted, her voice filled with indignation.

“Oh, about that... Well, circumstances have forced me to change my mind,” he replied, standing up and adjusting his ornate toga. It was hard to look at him in that attire; he reminded you of Geta. “When the Athenians decided to side with Geta and betray me, I had to revise my plans. I hope you understand. After all, it was a matter of mutual interest,” he said with a sneer.

“What about my son? Why did you take him from me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Did you really think I would let you flee with a Roman prince, the heir to the throne? Are you truly that foolish?”

Nerissa's eyes reflected obvious disappointment. He had a point. Had she truly betrayed Geta for a foolish plan? It was frustrating that she trusted Elagabalus more easily than Geta. A surge of anger coursed through you again, as if you could reach out and strangle Nerissa with your bare hands, but worry for your nephew, Publius, held you back.

“If a hair on his head has been harmed, I will ruin you!” You yelled at him.“

"I am certain of that, my lady." He smirked. "Besides, I don't intend to hurt him," he then stood up, continued. "The death of his father and another prince have already angered the people enough; I don't want to give them another reason to revolt. I need the people of Rome to love me and respect me."

“They will never love you! You murdered their emperor and imprisoned his son, his heir! They will hate you!” Nerissa shouted angrily.

“I murdered him?" He said raising his eyebrows, "I didn't do anything, remember? It was you,” he grinned cruelly. "They have always resented you for being Greek, and this incident will only amplify their desire to place blame. They’ve been waiting for a reason, and you’ve just handed it to them.”

“I'll kill you!” She shrieked, jumping forward to him. One of the guards grabbed her by the arm.

“Lock her up, she is to be executed with the other Greeks.”

“No!”

You wanted to smile cruelly at Nerissa's shouts of protest, but you couldn’t. The thought of Publius being completely orphaned overshadowed everything else. Nerissa's desire for revenge led to a huge mistake, which she likely regrets; ultimately, she destroyed her life, her son’s life, and yours.

Elagabalus approached you, you had seen the pure evil in his eyes before, in Caracalla's eyes.

"As for you..."

"Do you intend to execute me as well?"

He chuckled, a mix of hysteria and amusement. "Certainly not. Why would I take such a drastic step? I told you, the people hold you in high regard, much like their disdain for Nerissa. I see a valuable opportunity here and would prefer to have you on my side."

Though seething with anger, you couldn't help but laugh in disbelief. “That will never happen.”

He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows in implication. “What about your nephew Publius? You wouldn’t want to lose him too, would you?”

Understanding his implication, you felt too trapped to respond, and the pain returned as tears streamed down your face. He continued.

“Actually, I was planning to get rid of him along with his mother, but when Varus made a mistake and got your son killed, I realized that I have no other choice left. It was the only thing that could persuade you to cooperate. You are a smart woman; I am certain that you understand exactly what I mean."

Your silence gave him confidence; he sensed your defeat, and a satisfied smile spread across his face as he approached you.

"What kind of monster are you to take my son's life, call it a mistake, and threaten me with my nephew?" You muttered, lacking the strength to bark or fight any longer.

“Alright, enough talk,” he said, looking at the guards. “Take her. Have her bathed and changed. Assign two men to guard her. We’ll speak again after the funeral, princess. Remember, your nephew’s life is in your hands, so I suggest you behave yourself.”

Ignoring his disturbing smile, you glanced at Darius as Varus pulled you out of the hall. He looked sad when he met your eyes, but you were too angry with him to care.

——

Geta's lifeless body lay on a marble slab in the center of the great hall, covered with a white cloth embroidered with gold. It was difficult to look at him; his skin was so pale, and his lips so blue, that you had to grip the edge of the marble slab for support. The lamentations of the vestal priestesses rose around you as you placed coins to pay Charon on Geta's eyelids. Your fingers trembled as you touched his golden hair. Tears streamed down your face, wetting his colorless, lifeless skin as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. You tried to ignore the members of the Senate gathered around you, along with their wives and the murmurs of the Patricians. You could not bear to hear any words of consolation; you were too tired to endure it any longer.

You felt exhausted to attend the solemn funeral ceremony, yet Elagabalus dragged you with him. Varus’ men shadowed you like ominous specters, their presence a constant reminder of your captivity. It was infuriating; you felt as though you were a ghost, wandering through a fog of despair, a living dead among the mourning throng.

Desperation clawed at your chest as your eyes scanned the sea of unfamiliar faces, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone familiar—perhaps Lucius, Cato, or Felix. You yearned for a sign, a whisper of news that Marcius was alive, but all you found were stranger faces. It felt like everyone had turned their backs on you, leaving you in this bleak nightmare of solitude.

As you stood before the blazing pyre, the flames licking greedily at Geta's lifeless form, sorrow overwhelmed you. The crackling fire echoed the sound of your heart breaking. Tears streamed down your face, hot and relentless, as Geta’s final words reverberated in your mind: “In his absence, you will be under my protection.”

You didn't know when this nightmare would end, you just wanted to beg the gods to take your life, but not without revenge. You didn't know when or how, but you would take your revenge, it was the only thing that kept you strong. Varus and Elagabalus may have seen it as surrender, but they were unaware that you were just waiting for the right moment.

Far away in the crowd, hidden from view, Marcus was present. Cloaked in black, he lurked in the shadows, but he was there. His heart surged with life once he caught sight of you in the distance. He yearned to push through the masses and reach you, ready to slaıghter anyone who dare to stand in his way. However, he knew he couldn't do that—not yet. All he could do was watch you helplessly from afar. Patience had never been so difficult for him, and of all the moments of helplessness he had endured, this was the most excruciating.

“Sir, what do we do?” Octavius asked.

“I am the only one among us whose face less recognizable to them. I will approach and retrieve him,” Lucius said.

Marcus touched his shoulder. “Be careful.”

As Lucius moved carefully through the crowd, he, like Marcus, couldn’t help but glance in your direction, worried about you. But he had to find Darius. When you briefly looked over, you recognized Lucius’s face, and your heart began to race. You kept your excitement in check, not wanting Varus to become suspicious; he had seen him before.

Lucius... If he was alive, did that mean the others were too? You were desperate to find out, but all you could do was stand there, and you hated it.

Darius quickly identified Lucius and grasped the meaning behind his signal. He discreetly turned to assess the positions of Varus and Elagabalus, taking the opportunity to position one of his most trusted men in his place. He then began to follow Lucius at a safe distance, relieved to see that Varus was momentarily preoccupied.

Anxiety coiled in your stomach as you imagined the exchange between Darius and Lucius. Would he intend to send you a message? "Marcius, please let him be alive," you prayed to the gods, your heart swelling with a glimmer of hope. It felt almost reassuring to see Lucius again, especially when you felt so alone. At least Lucius was alive; at least you hadn't lost him yet.

While you were waiting for Darius to return, Elagabalus was eager to leave and signaled to the guards, who parted to help him through. The crowd was in a dismal mood—filled with mourning, anger, and sadness—and they definitely weren't ready to accept Elagabalus as emperor. However, you could tell they had a great respect for you. You were certain that he would use that respect to manipulate you into following him from now on, threatening you with Publius if you refused. But you didn't want to leave; you just wanted to see Lucius one more time and find out what he had told Darius. Unfortunately, you now found yourself as Elagabalus' puppet; he wanted you to escort him to Palatine Hill, and you had no choice but to obey.

The next day, as you sat helplessly in your cell, anxiously awaiting news of Lucius and your children, you heard footsteps approaching. You stood up immediately, hoping it could be Darius. One of the guards ordered others  to open the cell door and looked at you with a firm expression.

"My lady, come with me," he said, gently gesturing for you to follow.

You complied and walked in the direction he indicated. Together, you stepped out into the courtyard. As you walked alongside the guard toward the great hall, disappointment settled in your stomach like a stone. You did not wish to see Elagabalus—not now, not ever. Inside the hall, Darius stood with an empty expression that offered no comfort.

"Aurelia! Come, I have good news for you," Elagabalus exclaimed excitedly.

But as you locked eyes with Varus standing ominously beside him, a foreboding sense of dread washed over you. What he deemed "good news" felt like a cruel jest.

"I will be crowned today," he proclaimed, his voice echoing through the hall, "and I have decided to hold a public banquet in the Roman Forum tomorrow to celebrate."

You rolled your eyes. As if you gave a damn. I hope people of Rome stab you to death at that banquet, you thought.

“It's not wise to keep mourning so short, though nothing about you is wise,” you muttered.

“Oh, I like your frankness, it's much better than cowardly lying.” He gestured for you to come closer.

Reluctantly, you obeyed.

“I want you with me at the banquette.”

“That’s hardly surprising. Is that what you consider good news?” you replied, skepticism dripping from your tone.

"Right, the good news is that I can't keep you in a cell any longer, so I've decided that you will stay in the Domus Tiberiana. Even better, your nephew Publius will be there with you. See? I'm not that cruel."

His lighthearted remarks left you feeling unsettled, though the prospect of having Publius by your side provided some relief.

“What? Aren’t you going to express your gratitude? How rude of you,” he taunted.

Was he truly joking?

"I'm sure you placed lots of guards in there. It sounds like a bigger cell to me," you remarked, rolling your eyes.

"For your protection and little Publius, dear," he replied with a grin.

"I think you need more protection," you hinted. "Especially from me."

He chuckled and glanced at Varus. "What a woman! She never gives up, does she?"

"She certainly doesn't," Varus said, smiling at you.

You averted your gaze from both of them.

"What do you say we share our decision with her?"

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Varus replied, his voice tinged with excitement.

“Varus has done so much for me; I owe him my very presence here. Therefore, I wish to reward him with something worthy.”

"I don’t care what kind of reward he receives!" you shouted, your frustration boiling over.

He crossed his arms, a glint of foreboding hidden behind his smile. "You should, because you are the reward."

A shiver ran down your spine. "Excuse me?"

"General Varus is an honorable man who deserves respect. He merits a good marriage, and since you are a widow, you are his best potential match."

You shook your head fervently, disbelief etched on your face. "Never…’" you mumbled, the mere thought twisting your stomach into knots. "I would never marry him! Never!"

Elagabalus frowned, his expression suddenly serious. "I believe you misunderstand me, Aurelia. I'm not seeking your opinion."

Varus cleared his throat, bowing his head slightly. "This marriage would be the greatest honor I could ever receive, Your Majesty. I am truly grateful."

"Good, then let the preparations begin,’" Elagabalus declared, an air of finality tinging his words.

It was all too much. You wanted to scream, to fight against the tide of fate that threatened to engulf you, but you felt paralyzed, trembling with fear and anger. The worst torment imaginable seemed to come for you at every turn, leaving you struggling to find the strength to continue living in such a harrowing reality.

—-

“How is his condition?” Marcus asked, anxiety tightening his voice. Marcius lay still, his eyes closed and face pale, every shallow breath causing his small chest to rise and fall.

“He’s better,” Lucius replied. “He’s fighting with everything he has, I assure you.” He hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the swelling around the injury. “Infection is starting to build up, though. I need to prepare some more ointment.”

“When will he open his eyes?” Marcus asked, his voice shaking.

He sighed, “We’ll have to wait a bit longer for that. Rest assured, I’m doing everything I can.”

“I can't thank you enough, Lucius. You’re my brother now,” Marcus said sincerely.

Lucius nodded and smiled at him before leaving the room.

After he left, Marcus sat beside his little boy, thinking of you as he stroked his head. "My son, are you waiting for your mother to open her eyes? I promise I will bring her back," he said. He bent down to kiss the top of his son's head.

As he sat there, his gaze landed on a familiar dress among the items brought from the villa. He picked it up, the fabric delicate in his fingers, and brought it to his nose. The scent—your scent—enveloped him like a cherished memory. He returned to the bed, sinking into the fabric's embrace as he buried his nose in it once more.

"Aurelia, my beloved wife, my radiant sun. How can I find rest in this dark abyss while you are imprisoned in their merciless grasp? How can I remain still, waiting patiently, when I know you are alone in anguish, tears brimming in your eyes? Every moment without you feels like an endless dungeon, suffocating and cold," he said, his voice choked as he wiped the warm tears cascading down his cheeks.

His gaze shifted to Marcius, who murmuring softly in his dreams. “My son, you were born into a world besieged by ruthless tyrants and treacherous souls. They will always covet what you possess and conspire to bring you harm simply because of who you are destined to be. But you must stand resolute; you must never yield to their demands. You will emerge as a valiant and honorable warrior, just like me, and you will place the traitors where they belong—defeated and discredited. An honorable warrior does not take what is not rightfully theirs and does not fall without a fierce struggle.”

There was a soft knock at the door and Marcus got up to open it. It was Cato. "Sir, Commander Darius is here."

"Let's go," he said, closing the door quietly behind him as he left the room. He hoped Darius had news of you.

Everyone had gathered in the courtyard, waiting for Marcus to arrive. When Darius saw Marcus, he pushed back his hood and saluted him. “General.”

“Darius, have you spoken to Lady Aurelia?” Marcus asked, his tone filled with hope.

Darius shook his head. “Unfortunately, sir, I didn’t have a chance." He exhaled nervously. "Lady Aurelia is no longer being held in the cell.”

Marcus frowned. “How so? Where is she?”

“Elagabalus had her sent to the Domus Tiberiana. He also had Publius sent with her, claiming he was not that cruel when he said that, that bastard,” Darius growled.

“At least she won't be stuck in a cell; she'll be more comfortable in the palace,” Marcus muttered, the pain evident in his voice when he says that.

“Perhaps, sir, but he has clearly lost his sanity. Elagabalus is preparing to negotiate a deal with the Carthaginians. He asserts that it is a promise made in exchange for the throne.”

“What specific terms does this deal involve?”

“He intends to relinquish the southern territories to the Carthaginians, which includes the significant cities of Alexandria and Sicily,” he explained.

“He’s truly gone mad!” Octavius bellowed, his voice echoing like thunder in the dimly lit chamber. “We can’t let this happen; we must take action immediately. Sir?”

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Marcus, awaiting his response.

"Of course we won't let him, we'll bury him in that throne! We need to be clever about this. Fortunately, he still has Darius by his side, and we should use that to our advantage to devise a smart plan. We will involve the senators who remain loyal to Geta. But until then, we must all conceal the fact that we are alive. This is crucial. Do you all understand?”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Octavius looked uneasy. “Sir, I can accept our situation, but it pains me that all of Rome believes you are dead. It's so unfair.”

“We must be patient, Octavius,” Marcus said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “These are just a few of the obstacles we face, but they will not stop us.”

Darius exhaled. "Acacius, your death is officially recorded, and the law is unforgiving in this matter."

Marcus frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I apologize for saying this, but, according to law, Lady Aurelia is now a widow, and—"

"And? Darius, what are you saying?" Marcus asked.

Taking another deep breath, Darius said while locking his eyes on Marcus', "Elagabalus is setting a marriage arrangement between Lady Aurelia and Varus."

A palpable silence descended upon the room as everyone looked at Marcus wide-eyed.

In a sudden burst of anger, Marcus grabbed Darius by the collar and shouted, "What did you just say? Tell me this isn't true!"

Darius lowered his head and replied, "I'm sorry, Acacius, but I heard it with my own ears. He's already ordered preparations to begin."

"What nonsense!" Aris shouted.

"We must kill him at once!" Felix added.

"We can't allow it!" Cato protested.

"Acacius, let’s move and take him down right now," Octavius said, then he turned Darius. "Darius, gather all the praetorians and together we will kill this cunt tonight!"

Darius shook his head. “I wish I could, but Varus commands too many, having dismissed and suspended several of my men. They are closely observing my every move, and the risk is too great. If we were to fail, it could endanger Lady Aurelia or Publius. And, I am well aware that the Domus Tiberiana is filled with soldiers whom he chose specifically."

Marcus stood in the dim glow of flickering torches, his heart racing as silence surrounded him like a heavy shroud. He had to act, he had to do something. "I have to see her," he burst out, desperation lacing his voice.

"They've already taken her to the Domus Tiberiana," Darius cautioned.. "You can't go in there. If they recognize you..."

"She has been through worse than any of us! It’s a miracle she’s still holding on. She needs to know I’m alive — she needs to know her son Marcius is alive. I can’t bear the thought of her all alone there." His voice grew softer, filled with a deep yearning. "I just need to see her, even if only for a moment."

Darius ran a hand through his hair, contemplating. "Well, we can’t enter through the main gate, but perhaps there’s a way through the river. You know, Emperor Geta once considered imprisoning his mother, Julia Domna, there before sending her into exile." He paused, his eyes brightening with the spark of an idea. "I ordered my men to scout potential escape routes, and there’s one Varus's men are completely unaware of. It leads from the river straight to the west courtyard and then to the baths — it’s a drainage route."

"That’s brilliant!" Marcus said. "If I can navigate to the baths, I might be able to slip past the soldiers guarding the inside."

"We’ll help you," Octavius insisted, his face set with determination.

"No, we can’t draw attention. I have to go alone," Marcus protested. "I don’t intend to spill any blood; I just need to see Aurelia."

Octavius shook his head fiercely. "I refuse to send you in there alone."

"It's a risk we can't take, Octavius."

Darius glanced at him. "It certainly is, but Acacius, I’m curious."

"About what?"

"Are you as skilled at climbing as you are at fighting?"

"You doubt my abilities?" Marcus teased.

"Consider that I never asked," Darius smirked.

"What about the soldiers in the courtyard and around garden sir?" Cato inquired.

"I can handle that," Lucius chimed in, approaching them with a smug smile.

"Without detected? How?" Marcus asked, his curiosity piqued. "

"I'll explain if you allow me to accompany you," Lucius replied with a sly smile. "Besides, I'm much better at climbing than any of you.”

——

The Domus Tiberiana was a long-abandoned palace located in the northwestern corner of the Palatine Hill. Unlike the Domus Severiana, its entrance was not from the main road but rather further inland. It featured a large gate with iron bars, and one had to pass through an extensive garden to reach the courtyard. By the time you arrived, the slaves and guards meant to serve you were already present. When the soldiers brought you into this modest palace, especially in comparison to others, around noon, it felt as if you were entering into a cell again—only larger. The heavy thud of the door slamming shut made you feel like you were cut off from everything outside. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped like a tiger in a cage, just like one you’d seen in the dim underground passage of the Colosseum. It hit you that, much like that tiger, you were going to be used when the time was right. At least the tiger had it better, you thought; its death would be quick and decisive, and it might take a few of its enemies down with it.

But you?

You felt completely helpless against your foes, stuck with nothing but the weight of your situation. You had yet to avenge the loss of Marcus, your son, your little girl, and your brother Geta. They had all been taken from you one by one, and it felt as if you could barely breathe without them. Damn survival instinct, you thought. It wouldn't be long, though; you had to make sure Varus was dead before you could reunite them in the afterlife. Then it wouldn't be an issue to die.

That evening, as you looked out over the Tiber River from the balcony of what was supposed to be your new room, you realized how lonely you were. You could no longer trust the slaves who assisted you with changing and brought you food, nor could you rely on the guards in the courtyard and at the entrance. As you gazed at the hill ahead, thoughts of Marcus filled your mind. Just beyond that hill lay your villa and meadow, and you would have given anything to return to those days.

“If only I had stopped Marcus that day and somehow prevented him from leaving,” you sighed to yourself. Accepting the reality that he was no longer alive was unbearable; it felt as if it would swallow you whole, leaving nothing behind.

Publius' presence beside you provided a semblance of strength, much like the burning desire for vengeance within you. He was a perfect copy of his father, with the same eyes and hair, and that was all that was left of Geta. Looking at him, memories of Marcius flooded your mind. A part of you wanted to believe he was still alive, but your logic insisted he couldn't have survived the arrow.

And your little girl? You could barely bear to think of her; she was so tiny, the mere thought of anything happening to her made you shudder. Beneath all this pain, it felt as if the temple of Jupiter had collapsed, crushing you beneath its great marble pillars.

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and one of the slaves entered with your permission. "My lady, General Varus is here," he said, then left the room.

General... you thought. There was only one general for you.

But this could be an opportunity. If you could be alone with him, maybe you had a chance. You desperately wished you had the knife Marcus gave you on your ankle right now. But it wasn't, and you had to deal with it in another way. Your gaze was fixed on the knife on the tray that the slaves had brought. It had been intended for cutting bread; it was small, but it would do. You picked it up and examined it. It wasn't as sharp as your knife, but if you could aim for the right spot, or stab with it... You recalled everything Marcus had taught you, trying to memorize each lesson. It was extremely difficult to plan this attack against a soldier, especially a commander. You had only one chance, and failure was not an option since you had already attempted to attack him twice before.

You tucked the knife between the fabric of your belt and checked it before leaving the room. Taking a deep breath, you left to meet him.

"You can do this, you can do this," you murmured to yourself as you walked down the corridor to the courtyard. Varus stood in the corner, examining the bust of Emperor Nero. Your confidence grew when you saw he was unarmored, wearing his official toga in shades of purple and blue. He was actually quite vulnerable, as his back was turned. However, he quickly turned around when he heard your footsteps.

“Lady Aurelia,” he said.

You averted your gaze. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“I realize you don't like me, but you must respect me.”

“Respect is earned. It’s not something you get from clothes or rank. And I promise you, you'll never earn my respect.”

He grinned as he approached you. “Is that so? I'm a determined man, Aurelia. I always get what I desire; you can see that from my current position.” He continued walking towards you, causing you to instinctively take a step back. “You were something I desired, too, and I’m about to have you. Perhaps I won’t earn your respect, but I will gain something else.”

You felt nauseous as he observed your body with a hungry, wolf-like stare. Instead of slapping him, you decided to provoke him; deliberately, you took another step backward. “What is it?” you asked, playing the fool.

He looked suspicious as he kept walking towards you, and it seemed like he was enjoying it. With nowhere else to go, you leaned against the wall, standing at attention with one hand on your belt as he took another step closer. “You and everything that belongs to you,” he said.

You were taken aback when he cupped your chin in his large hand firmly. His eyes were fixed on your lips, and you knew it was the perfect moment.

You drew the knife from your belt with your right hand, aimed it at his stomach and tried to stab him there. Though not as deep as you would have wished, the knife managed to pierce his abdomen and toga. Seizing the opportunity presented by his astonishment, you lunged at him again, this time aiming for his neck. You resisted with all your strength as he held you tightly by both arms, but eventually your smaller frame was no match for his strength, and you succumbed to the struggle. But not before you cut his bare arm deep enough to draw blood. Groaning in pain, he grabbed your hair and pulled viciously, then slammed you to the ground.

"You stubborn whore!" he shouted as he stared down at his bleeding wound in shock.

The look of bewilderment on his face made you laugh as you slowly pushed yourself up from the stone floor. He came up angrily, grabbing your hair. "I won't do anything to your face to make you appear ugly at the wedding, but I promise that once you become my wife, I will do things to you that will make you wish you had never been born!"

He shouted and shoved you. You fell to the ground once more, and as your cheek pressed against the cold stone floor, tears began to flow—not because you were hurt, but because you had missed your chance.

The slaves had heard the noises, and while Varus was leaving the palace, they came to you and helped lift you from the ground. You ordered them to leave you alone and not to enter the courtyard to disturb you again.

It was so close; you almost killed him, but the opportunity had slipped away. You picked up the knife from the floor and sat on the lectus. You could never marry him—no, you could never be someone else's wife, and you could never let him touch you. Instead, death was a better option. As you looked at the knife, you actually thought it might be a good thing to take your own life right there, right now. Then there would be no princess for Varus to wed, nor for Elagabalus to use her power for his benefit. Moreover, it was the only way to relieve all your pain, you knew it.

—-

Marcus and Lucius were being overly cautious as they sneaked along the banks of the Tiber and into the underground corridors of the Domus Tiberiana. It was a short but troubling path. According to Darius' account, they first had to pass through Velabrum and climb the walls leading from the edge of the Magna Mater temple to the south garden of the palace. Lucius was just as good at climbing as he claimed to be, chuckling while Marcus panted a little.

“If I were your age, I’d climb faster than you, I promise.”

“Or, are you complaining about your age, General?”

“Never! I’m just saying the conditions aren’t equal.”

Lucius jumped into the garden, waiting for him. “Fair enough. Where to now?”

“To Domitian's ramp. That will take us directly to the inner courtyard.” Marcus gestured for Lucius to crouch. “There it is,” he said, pointing ahead.

“This looks like a ramp with a lot of turns, and I see some soldiers.”

“Praetorians,” Marcus hissed. “I count three. No one would dare sneak in here; most of them are guarding the entrance. If we can get past these two, the others will be easier to deal with. Remember, we can’t let them see us. Killing is not an option. Knocking them out is a last resort, though I’m not sure how you’re going to do that.”

“You don’t trust me, General? You’re hurting my feelings.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “If I didn’t trust you, I would have come alone.”

Lucius looked at him earnestly. “I’m here for her. I’ll give you all the time you need, but remember, you’re the one they think is dead. Don't expose yourself to anyone. I won’t let her get hurt again because of you.”

Marcus gave him a stern look. “I’m already here because I can’t bear to see her hurt anymore. So stop getting on my nerves and follow me.”

“After you,” Lucius growled.

They both tried to be very quiet as they climbed up the ramp. When the first guard turned his back, they hurried around the corner, passing him and the second guard. But when they reached the courtyard, they saw two guards standing side by side in a corner. To get behind them, they would have to go around the fountain, but that seemed too risky. Just then, one of the guards moved into the garden, giving them the opportunity to approach the other guard from behind.

It was impossible to reach the other courtyard without passing him, so they had to neutralise him. Lucius poured a small vial of herbal medicine onto a cloth and, reaching from behind, forced the guard to sniff it. The guard struggled, but the overpowering scent made him lose consciousness. They quickly hid him in a nearby bush.

"Impressive, what is this?" Marcus asked while looking around.

"Hyoscyamus niger," Lucius replied. "It has a knockout effect, and this is a concentrated essence I made. He'll come to his senses in the morning."

"Good. Her chambers should be located in the courtyard beyond."

"Very well, I'll wait here for your return."

Marcus nodded, but before he could take a step forward, Lucius called out to him, “Be careful.”

“You too,” Marcus replied.

Once he reached the courtyard, Marcus noticed that it was quiet; no one was around. He cursed under his breath when he spotted two guards near the entrance, close to the stairs leading to your chambers. Although they couldn't hear him from that distance, it was still too dangerous—he needed to find another route.

As he turned toward the courtyard, he caught sight of a woman with her back turned to him. The color of her hair, how it fell over her shoulder, and her posture made his heart skip a beat. It was definitely you.

He glanced around before taking a cautious step closer. The courtyard was deserted; not a slave or anyone else was in sight. The guards wouldn’t be here at this hour, and he wouldn’t have cared if they were. He longed to see your face, to touch your skin, to hear your voice—and now, here was his chance.

—-

As you looked at the knife in your hand, the weight of guilt for what you were about to do filled your mind. “It's just a cut,” you reminded yourself. “You know where to cut; just do it.” Taking a deep breath, you pressed the knife just above the carotid artery. “If you're alive, forgive me, Marcus,” you thought, hearing light footsteps approaching from behind. You didn't turn around; you couldn't let anyone stop you now. Marcus hadn't seen the knife in your hand and was unaware of your intentions. He pushed back his hood and smiled as he took in your appearance from behind.

“My lady...”

This voice... That velvety, deep voice that your ears had longed to hear once more. The voice you never thought you would hear again. You were so surprised that, for a moment, you forgot you were holding a knife. Your hand began to tremble, and the sharp edge of the blade cut your skin, leaving a thin line. But you didn’t care; you didn’t even feel it. Your whole body was numbed by the desire to see the face of the voice’s owner.

When you stood up, turned around, and finally saw his face, your entire body began to shake as if you were about to have a stroke. You even forgot how to breathe. As you stared at him with your mouth agape, he stepped closer and looked at you with that wonderful smile. When he touched your face with his hands, tears began to flood your eyes, followed by uncontrollable sobs. Suddenly he realised the cut on your neck, and the knife in your hand. He immediately picked up the knife.

“Aurelia, what were you doing—”

The concern etched on his handsome face took your breath away. How stunningly beautiful he looked…

“Marcus,” you whispered, still in disbelief at his presence. “Is this really you? Am I dead? Or have you resurrected?”

His warm brown eyes sparkled as they locked onto yours, radiating a sense of comfort and love. “No, my love. You are not dead, and I am not resurrected. I have navigated and dismantled all the enemy's traps and came back to you.”

Overwhelmed with emotion, you leaped into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his chest. As he held you close, the rhythm of his heartbeat felt like a soothing lullaby, and he tenderly stroked your hair, bringing a few strands to his nose to inhale your familiar, heavenly scent. In that moment, his heart soared, relieved to be in this blissful haven once again. It felt so divine to be enveloped by his strong arms that you shut your eyes tight, praying this wasn’t just a dream.

“You never left, anyway,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “You’ve always been with me. Everywhere I turned, there you were. If my soul hasn’t departed from my body, it’s because I hold onto the belief that you are alive, Marcus.”

He ran his lips through your hair and kissed your forehead. "How could I ever leave you and our children? I would rise again, even if I died, just to look into your beautiful eyes one more time and hear your sweet voice again."

His words sent a delicate ache through your heart at the mention of “our children.” As tears streamed down your cheeks, he took your hands—still encircling his neck—and kissed them with an air of reverence. Then, he tenderly examined the cut on your neck, his gaze filled with concern.

“My beautiful princess,” he said softly, “I see the pain you’ve endured and the wounds in your heart. I have come to cleanse you of all your suffering and heal your wounds.” He then kissed your lips with deep longing.

As you reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, your heart ached with the weight of unspoken fears. “Marcus, our son... our daughter... I couldn't protect them,” you confessed, your gaze drooping as despair clouded your vision. But to your astonishment, you watched as a warm smile spread across his lips. He leaned closer, brushing his lips against yours once more, tenderly, almost reverently. “They’re alive, my love,” he reassured you.

He pressed another kiss to your lips, savoring the moment, realizing just how deeply he had missed the look of sweet surprise on your face, every subtle gesture, every intricate detail of your being.

“Is that true?” you asked, hope creeping into your voice.

“It’s true, my love. Believe me, my darling."

Suddenly, a huge smile spread across his face, and your sobs turned into giggles as you hugged him again. It was almost as if all your wounds had healed; you felt alive once more.

“Thank the gods, Marcus. It’s so good to touch you again, to be wrapped in your arms. With you here, I feel complete,” you breathed.

He held you close, pressing you tightly against him, resting his chin atop your head as if anchoring you both in that perfect moment. “So am I, my love, you are my reason for being. Forgive me for being late; I will never let you suffer such pain again,” he promised with a fierce intensity.

“Now that you’re here, touching me, all my pain has vanished,” you whispered, overwhelmed by the warmth of his presence.

A playful grin spread across his face, and he leaned down to claim your lips once more, kissing you deeply, passionately, and with an abundance of love. As he pulled you closer, he lifted you up and spun you around, your delighted giggles ringing out like music in the courtyard.

But the enchantment was abruptly shattered as you heard footsteps approaching, dragging you back to the bittersweet reality of your surroundings.

“I can’t let them see me,” Marcus said anxiously.

“Hide over there,” you said pointing to the space behind the column. He lovingly kissed your hand before finding his hiding spot.

One of the guards stopped when he saw you. “My lady? I heard a noise. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, you can return to your post. I will retire to my room now,” you replied, a calm authority laced in your voice.

He dipped his head in respect, turning on his heel and walking away. Once he was out of sight, you turned to Marcus. “Come with me.” You took his hand, your grip firm as if afraid you might lose him if you didn't hold on tight.

Marcus smiled as he walked beside you, admiring your beautiful face. His heart felt light as he accompanied you to your chambers, a smile dancing on his lips.

—-

Chapter 26: Trap

 

Veniet perfidia proditoris domum

Treachery will come home to the traitor…

 

You glanced around cautiously before stepping into your chambers with Marcus, relief washed over you as you realised that no one was in sight. The hour was late and most of the slaves and others had thankfully retired to their quarters.

With a quiet sigh, you closed the door behind you.

In an instant, you turned to Marcus, your heart racing, and threw yourself into his embrace, your arms wrapped tightly around him. The warmth of his body enveloped you while you breathed in his familiar scent - a mixture of earth and something unique to him.

"I still can't believe you're here," you murmured, the words barely escaping your lips as emotion surged through you.

He leaned down, his lips brushing the top of your head, causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. He lifted your chin, his fingers cupping your face, his gaze searching yours intently. "They said you always waited for me, that you never lost hope, even when everyone thought I was dead."

You melted into the depths of his warm brown eyes. "I felt it, Marcus. Somehow, I could feel your heart still beating." His soft smile broke through the heaviness and he gently wiped away the tears that stained your cheeks, each drop a testament to your longing and relief.

"My love, I thought I would never see you again. It was your love that pulled me out of the depths of despair. The thought of being with you again kept me alive," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "And my army, my loyal soldiers..." A shadow crossed his face, tinged with sadness.

"My heart breaks for them; I know they were like brothers to you," you murmured.

"I have sworn to avenge them, and I will. And Geta too."

The mention of Geta tightened your chest, bringing back painful memory of loss and betrayal. Marcus led you to the edge of the bed, noticing the tremors in your hands as if you were caught in a storm. He settled down beside you, his presence consoling. You leaned against his chest, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, yearning for the solace it provided. "He died in my arms while trying to protect me, just like Vicius did." As you sobbed harder, Marcus wrapped his arms around you, his fingers threading through your hair.

“He didn’t deserve to die, not like this, not so soon. I never thought I’d say this one day, but he was like a brother to me as well. I hope his soul finds peace.” He drew in a long, deep breath, his heart aching as your sobs echoed in the air. "My princess, rest assured that traitors will be rightfully punished. They will pay dearly for their treachery. You have my word."

You nodded while wiping away your tears. Marcus looked concerned as he examined your chin, forehead, and neck.

“The others have told me everything—what that cunt Varus did,” he muttered. “Your neck... You had a knife in your hand before I arrived. Were you going to harm yourself?” His voice was almost angry.

You averted your eyes. Marcus was about to jump to his feet when he noticed the blood on the hem of your dress, but you grabbed his arm.

"It's not my blood," you reassured him.

He looked surprised as he settled back down.

"Varus was here."

His jaw clenched. "What was he doing here at this hour? Did he lay a hand on you? Tell me what happened. Did he hurt you?" He growled.

"Well, actually, I kind of hurt him," you replied.

He raised his eyebrows, looking at you in amazement.

"I tried to kill him but failed. The cut on his arm that I managed was quite deep, though," you said, smiling.

"My lioness," he said, grinning as he leaned in to kiss you.

"I tried every technique you showed me, but I still couldn't kill him.”

“Raise your chin, my love; you are the mightiest woman I know. Your courage honors me. I am so proud of you. But don't worry about it right now; I'll kill him when the time comes. He and Elagabalus."

You nodded, "I know, I trust you will. We both will," you added, placing your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his skin. "Together."

His gaze drifted down to your wedding ring, glinting softly in the dim light. He grasped your hand and pressed a tender kiss to it.

"How is Marcius?" You asked. “He was all I could think about—him and our daughter. I thought I had lost them."

“Our daughter is well, and I’m sure our son will be too. He's so strong; he’ll open his eyes soon,” Marcus reassured you with a smile.

“I miss them so much,” you whispered, feeling a rush of longing.

As Marcus noticed the tears spilling down your cheeks, he sprang to his feet, gripping your arm with urgency. “Come with me.”

“Where to?"

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he growled, his eyes ablaze with determination.

You instinctively jerked your arm away, a chill racing down your spine. “Marcus, I can’t.”

“Why not?” His voice was laced with desperation, each word heavy with emotion as he reached for your arm again. “I’m not leaving without you.” With a powerful swing, he flung open the door, the creaking hinges echoing his turmoil.

“They'll kill Publius if I come with you,” you said, and he halted abruptly. Anger and desperation contorted his features. “I can’t lose him; he’s all I have left of Geta. And I am all that’s left of his family. I can’t abandon him to their filthy hands.”

“Isn’t he here too? Let’s take him and leave together,” he said.

“Marcus, my love, you’re not thinking straight. The slaves, the guards positioned on his chambers—everyone is aligned against us. Besides, you said they shouldn't see your face.”

Frustration surged through Marcus as he released your hand, kicking the leg of the table with a forceful thud that resonated in the silence. He turned back to you, desperation etched into every line of his face as he grasped your shoulders.

“How can I just leave you here? While that bastard plots to claim you, to dare to touch you, to dare to wed you? Tell me, how could I possibly do that?”

“I would never let him lay a finger on me, Marcus. I am your wife, and I will always belong to you. But we must muster a bit more patience, no matter how torturous this waiting may feel,” you said, your heart aching.

“Aurelia,” he murmured, shaking his head slowly, despair clouding his eyes like a storm gathering on the horizon.

“I really want to go with you; the ache to see my children is almost unbearable. But if anything were to happen to Publius, I…” As tears began to flow again, his face softened, and he wrapped his arms around you. He placed his hand on the back of your head and pulled you close, gently running his lips through your hair. He sighed deeply, his breath trembling. "All right, my love, if you say so," he said softly. Then, with a serious expression, he pulled back to gaze into your eyes.

"If I hear he touched you or saw you harmed, I will not come here silently this time. No. I vow I don't care if they see my face; I will come to get you out of here, even if it means slaughtering everyone in my path."

His fierce determination, burning in his eyes, was a fire that spoke volumes about his desire to protect you. The threat in his words felt like a warm shield around you, a reminder of how deeply you'd missed this part of him. Instinctively, you reached towards him, your heart fluttering as you pressed your lips against his. "I know you will, my love," you whispered, "Knowing that is all I need to endure anything."

In an instant, his gaze shifted, taking on a smoldering intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. He slid his hand across your back, pulling you closer. You gasped, startled and exhilarated by his firm touch.

“Then give me something to endure too, princess,” he murmured, his voice deep and rich with intent.

He dug his fingers into your waist, closing every possible gap between you, pressing you against him, and kissing you passionately. Pleased with his possessive grasp, you clutched his cloak and pulled his face even closer to yours. The two of you groaning loudly into the kiss – emotions and desires bubbling ever hotter in that moment, stalled only briefly when you broke off the kiss seconds later, panting for breath. You pressed your lips firmly to his in a rush this time, his tongue parting your lips as you placed your hands on his broad shoulders. With a deliberate motion, you pushed aside the heavy fabric of his cloak, revealing his bare arm, desperate to feel the warmth beneath your fingertips. His palms burned against you, hotter than the sweat of a fever. He panted raggedly as you trailed your fingers along his arm, your nails leaving fiery tracks on his flesh. But suddenly, your hand collided with the rough bandage binding his upper arm, causing you to break the kiss.

“Marcus, your arm. Are you hurt?” you asked, a concern lacing in your voice.

“It happened during the ambush, right before right before I leaped from the ship,” he replied, the weight of the memory flickering in his eyes.

You swallowed hard, a shiver running down your spine as you remembered his near-death encounter. "Let me see," you murmured, but he took your hand gently, raised it to his lips and planted a tender kiss on your palm.

“Don't worry, my love. It’s just a small wound. Lucius has already taken care of it.”

The reassurance washed over you like a warm wave, soothing your anxious heart.

“Speaking of which, I must return. He is waiting for me in the garden.” 

“Did you come here together? What about the others? Is everyone safe?” 

"All are well. They are currently in hiding in Agrippa's villa." 

You exhaled deeply. “What a relief to hear. Our children will be safe with them and with you. Will you give Marcius and our little girl a kiss for me? Please tell them I’m sorry for not being there with them.”

Marcus sighed, looking troubled. “I feel so restless not being able to take you with me. My only consolation is that this will all be over soon.” His thumb brushed softly along your cheek. “I’ll be at the ceremony tomorrow. If you glance into the shadows, perhaps you’ll catch a glimpse of me. It will be difficult for me to be away from you though, but I will try to be patient.”

“Will you return tomorrow night?”

“I will, my love. Just wait for me,” he said, capturing your lips in one last lingering kiss before opening the door and stepping outside.

“Be careful,” you whispered, the words escaping your lips like a prayer.

He flashed you a wink and smiled before turning away and pulling his hood over his head. You remained by the balustrade, clinging to it with desperation, your heart aching as you watched him disappear. The void of his absence pressed upon you, but knowing he would return for you offered a comforting light in the encroaching darkness.

—-

As the first light of dawn streamed through your window, you rose from your bed enveloped in a sensation you hadn’t experienced in a long time: an undeniable peace mixed with a glimmer of hope. The memory of last night flooded your mind; just when you believed you had lost Marcus forever, he had appeared before you. His radiant smile, the warmth of his touch, and the way he held you in his arms washed over you like a balm, soothing nearly all of your anguish—almost all. Yet, there was one emotion that refused to fade: the burning desire for revenge.

Now that you knew he was alive, you felt a newfound strength. You could endure the sight of Elagabalus' smug face and even the lewd glances from Varus. All you needed was time and patience; you had great faith that Marcus would come up with a clever plan to defeat them and take revenge for both of you as he promised he would.

While the slaves prepared you for the ceremony, you asked them about Publius. His room was situated far from yours, always guarded, as if the little boy might try to escape. Yet, knowing he was nearby provided you with some solace. However, your heart ached for him. He had no father or mother—only you. His life depended on you, your decisions, and your actions. You couldn't even visit your own children freely, not without ensuring his safety first.

A chilling fear gnawed at you—how Elagabalus would manipulate you using your concerns. His goal was to use Marcius to enforce his will. But now, believing Marcius dead - in his mind - he has chosen your nephew instead of your son. Had Marcius been alive, Elagabalus would have acted ruthlessly and got rid of Publius long ago; you knew he would. He was a man without mercy - more ruthless than even Caracalla or Macrinus had ever been.

As you walk through the entrance gate with the guards, you notice a chariot waiting there. You weren't expecting this; you thought a carriage would be coming instead. Elagabalus stands atop the chariot, wearing a strange grin on his face, and he extends his hand to you. "Aurelia! You look marvelous; come and accompany me." He helps you into the chariot beside him. Although this isn't your first experience, you don't particularly like the idea of being jostled all the way to the Roman Forum. Unlike you, however, he seems very excited; it's clear that he had chosen this particular spectacle. Crowds spilled out into the streets all the way from the Roman Forum to the Curia Julia. Despite the throngs of people, it was amusing to realize that most preferred to stay in their homes. They would never recognize him as an emperor, you knew, not even to the same extent as Caracalla.

As you arrived at the grand steps of the Curia Julia, he sprang down before you with an air of smug confidence, his movements a dance of arrogance. The guards, clad in gleaming armor, offered their steady hands to assist you as you carefully descended from chariot, each step resonating with the cheers of an adoring crowd. You glanced around, a wave of warmth washing over you as you smiled back at their enthusiastic shouts, your name echoing in the air like a beloved melody.

Your eyes swept over the sea of faces, searching fervently for Marcus, longing to lock eyes with him, if only for a fleeting moment. After what felt like an eternity, you thought you caught a glimpse of him at the far end of the crowd, hope igniting within you. But just then, someone moved in front of you, blocking your view entirely.

Your heart sank as you confronted the last figure you wished to see—Varus. "My lady, allow me the honor of escorting you," he said, holding out his arm.

You narrowed your eyes and turned away, ignoring him. He became annoyed but tried not to show it; the senators and their wives were around you, looking at you with curiosity. It was easy to imagine the gossip circulating among them. Given what you had been through, you were a valuable source of intrigue. Elagabalus waited for you on the marble steps where Geta had once stood. Your heart ached as memories flashed before your eyes, leaving you breathless. His voice calling you “sister” echoed in your ears. If you hadn’t felt the presence of Marcus in the crowd behind you, you might have started sobbing.

Suddenly, Varus grabbed your arm, startling you. “Hold on to me,” he murmured with an air of command.

You gritted your teeth and forced yourself away from him. "I'll only hold on to stab you again."

“Aurelia, the more lenient I am with you, the worse you seem to make things. At first, I understood your behavior and thought it was justified; I deserved it. But remember, you have no one to protect you now—neither your brother nor your husband. A time will come when Elagabalus will see you as worthless.”

“What are you saying? What the hell do you want from me?”

“I’m saying that being my wife isn't such a bad thing. Think of the power we could have together.”

You had heard that before.

“Wasn't it you who told me yesterday that you'd make me regret I was ever born?”

“No, I was furious! You made a deep cut in my damn arm. What did you expect me to do?” he replied, holding out his arm to show the thick bandage. You smiled cruelly. Then he stopped and stood before you, appearing sincere, but you didn’t care whether he was or not.

“The reason I want to marry you is not just for power; I truly want you. I've wanted you since the first time I saw you.”

Ugh! You couldn't dislike him more. You took a step toward him and looked into his eyes. "How irritating. You disgust me. I'd rather be crucified and burned alive than be the wife of a bastard like you."

You were glad to see the disappointment and pain in his eyes. It seemed your words had wounded him even more than the damn knife.

“Come now!” Elagabalus stood on the top step, extending his hand toward you, beckoning you closer. “You’re blowing Varus’s mind; the poor man is utterly amazed when he sees you,” he said with a twisted chuckle. "But he's not wrong - you really are beautiful. Shall I marry you instead?"

You responded to his laughter with a forced smile. You fought the urge to strangle or stab him as you walked into the great hall of the Curia Julia.

At the request of Elagabalus, all the wives of the Senate and even the wives of the patricians gathered in the hall. This event marked the beginning of a negative impression of him. After the Senate proclaimed him emperor, a few consuls voiced their objections, but they were ignored. Varus, the commander of Legion XIV Gallica, was the first to swear allegiance to him and formally declared him emperor, immediately announcing his first reforms.

First, he changed his full name, adopting the name Marcus Aurelius Antoninus—the name of Caracalla—to further enhance his legitimacy. There were loud protests in the hall, especially from senate who were supportive of Geta, but the praetorians silenced them. Darius appeared to be fully on his side, but if Marcus trusted him, there must have been a valid reason.

Your aunt Antonia was among those who objected, but her concern was somewhat different. You had never had the chance to meet her after the incident, and she seemed distressed.

“Your Majesty,” she began, her voice resonating with fervor, “ My niece Aurelia is the sole surviving child of Septimius Severus and the widow of the beloved General Acacius. To marry her off so hastily would be a profound betrayal of his memory. Furthermore, she enters this union without any heart; I must convey that I do not support this betrothal. I strongly protest it.” Her words cut through the air, sharp and defensive, and you felt a burgeoning gratitude towards her fierce protection, though anxiety crept in at the thought of the danger she was inviting upon herself.

A murmur swept through the assembly, the majority of the Senate sharing her sentiment, their faces reflecting a mixture of concern and solidarity in the face of the emperor’s initial decree.

Elagabalus let out a twisted laugh as he looked at the senators and then turned his gaze to you. His expression shifted to seriousness as he addressed each member of the Senate one by one. “This is my final decision, a personal vow to General Varus. How dare you question it?” His voice brimmed with menace.

One consul, your cousin Paulina's husband, stood up. “Your Majesty, Princess Aurelia is highly esteemed by the people, as was her late husband, Acacius. We would like to hear her affirm that this decision was made voluntarily and is necessary for the good of the people.”

Another consul stood to reinforce these sentiments. "I wholeheartedly concur, Your Majesty. You articulated your desire to gain the support of the populace—now is the time to demonstrate that commitment."

A third consul requested permission to stand. “We all want to hear what our princess has decided. I'm sure the people outside are eager to hear it as well.”

“This union is an important decision for Rome; we cannot treat it as just another random choice,” he added.

You glanced at your aunt as the consuls continued to voice their demands. This was her role—she was trying to protect you. You smiled at her, feeling grateful.

“Very well!” Elagabalus said, rising from his fancy seat and walking over to you, clearly displeased. “Tell them, Lady Aurelia,” he commanded loudly. He wore a smile, but the look in his eyes revealed his true feelings. Leaning closer, he murmured, "I trust that you do not want any harm to come to your nephew, Publius, do you?"

You didn't think he would let you off so easily anyway, but it was incredibly difficult to say something like this in front of the entire Senate. You wanted to scream about your real emotions regarding these two, but you just couldn't.

You had to obey.

You glanced at your aunt, who was smiling and nodding her head, eagerly waiting for your words, unaware of the many things you were keeping from her. Then you looked at the members of the Senate and all the women in the hall, all of them leaning in, anticipating what you would say.

"Say it," Elagabalus urged again, then leaned in once again. "If you say the wrong thing, I will not only have Publius killed, but all the children in the poorhouse as well. I know how much you love children." His grin was cruel.

You looked at him in shock and disgust. "You monster—"

"Sshh, that's not what I think they want to hear. Now tell them," he commanded. The threat in his tone made you uneasy.

"She will say the right thing, your majesty," Varus said, regarding you with a stony expression.

When you turned your head back to your aunt, a tremor ran through your heart, and tears blurred your vision.  "I," you began, your voice barely more than a whisper as you struggled to find strength, "I am Septimia Aurelia Marciana." Taking a deep breath, you shut your eyes tightly. "I wish to wed… General…" Your voice broke, cracking under the gravity of your declaration. "General Varus of my own free will."

The hall was engulfed in a heavy silence, an expectant pause that felt nearly suffocating. It was broken first by low murmurs of disbelief, quickly rising in intensity. Elagabalus clapped his hands together triumphantly, shattering the stillness. Varus, standing beside him, wore a smug smile as if he had just clinched a decisive victory. Out of the corner of your eye, you observed them both, and a steely resolve formed within you. You promised yourself that when the moment of revenge arrived, you would revel in their downfall.

"Aurelia, what are you saying?" your aunt stepped closer to you.

Paulina’s husband looked at you in astonishment, "Your Highness, how can this be?"

Another objection was raised, leading to a sudden eruption of voices throughout the hall. Elagabalus raised his voice commanding attention, and a hush fell over the assembly. He swiftly redirected the discussion, outlining the amendments he intended to implement concerning the Temple of Jupiter. Elagabalus believed that he could replace his god El-Gabal with Jupiter, the chief god of the Roman Pantheon, and that El-Gabal would be renamed according to his wishes. Deus Sol Invictus, or the undefeatable god, the Sun, and replaced by Jupiter. Fortunately, his request provoked a stronger reaction than anything you had just said, leading to objections from the members present. The voices in the hall grew so loud that several consuls stood up and approached him. Darius, Varus, and the other guards struggled to hold them back. Ultimately, however, the senate could not withstand the pressure from the well-paid guards of the emperor, and they were compelled to approve Elagabalus' demands.

—-

Sitting beside Elagabalus on the lavish banquette, you felt the weight of the evening's atmosphere pressing down on you, making everything more difficult. As guests approached, their voices rang out with exuberance, praising Elagabalus for his recent coronation and showering you with congratulations for your upcoming marriage. Women like Tacita, their eyes sharp and calculating, shot you suggestive looks that made your skin crawl, but you resolutely averted your gaze. A deep-seated guilt gnawed at your insides, a relentless reminder of the troubling circumstances that had compelled you into this situation. All you wanted was for the evening to come to a swift end.

When your aunt finally made her way to you, her expression filled with concern, Elagabalus reluctantly allowed you to speak with her, though the guards remained an ever-watchful presence, watching your every move.

“Please, just a few moments alone with my aunt,”  you said, looking at Elagabalus and Varus. “I ask you to at least do that.”

He finally nodded, already appearing drunk. However, Varus' eyes remained fixed on you while you spoke with your aunt; you could feel his gaze.

“Aurelia, what have you done? How could you agree to this when I was trying to save you from this marriage?”

You placed your hands on her shoulders. “Calm yourself. I had no choice. They have Publius locked. I can't allow anything to happen to him.”

“That man is responsible for the death of your children and your husband. How can you even consider marrying him? Is Geta's child truly more important than your own?”

“There are things you don’t yet know. I can’t explain everything right now, but you need to trust me on this: this union will never happen.” You gave her a reassuring look, but she faltered and shook her head.

“What do you mean? I don’t fully understand what you’re saying,” she insisted, seeking clarity.

You glanced discreetly at Elagabalus and Varus, noting their focus was elsewhere, just for a moment. Leaning in closer, you whispered in your aunt’s ear, “My children are alive. Keep this to yourself. Marcus is alive; he's here, in Rome.”

Astonishment lit up Antonia's face, quickly transforming into fierce hope as joy sparkled in her eyes. “Is this true? Then why is he holding back? We must take decisive action to rid Rome of these two before it’s too late.”

“Be quiet; they will hear,” you whispered urgently, pressing a finger to your lips. “That will happen when the time comes. Marcus plans to defeat them once and for all."

“I will help,” she said. “The loyal members of the Senate are already poised to rid us of these two tyrants.” She glanced at them before continuing. “They're keeping you confined in that wretched place. I can’t reach you, and my heart aches for you and the children, Aurelia. But knowing Marcius is alive, despite this despair, I feel a flicker of relief now,” she said.

“I just have to hold on a little longer. We must be patient,” you said, your voice like a whisper.

“Patient? Aurelia, they watch your every move. They descend upon you like vultures circling their prey. As your aunt, I can’t tolerate it any longer. I will reach out to Acacius for the necessary aid. I believe that together, we can overcome this daunting situation. But how can I contact him?"

"He will contact you," you said.  Your trust in her was obvious, yet you hesitated to reveal their hidden location. She understood the unspoken message; her expression shifted from worry to comprehension. With a determined nod, she turned and walked away, leaving your side.

—-

As you returned to the Domus Tiberiana, night had already cast its dark veil over Rome. The only relief from the fatigue that clung to your bones was the thought of seeing Marcus. You knew he would arrive around midnight to avoid getting caught. Eager to see him before retreating to your own room for the night, you made your way to Publius's chambers.

The moment Pablius spotted you, his face lit up like a sunrise. With uncontainable joy, he clapped his little hands and rushed into your embrace. You showered him with kisses as he giggled. He struggled to string together the syllables of “mother” and “father,” his innocent attempts reminiscent of Marcius’s early words. As you stroked his silky golden hair, a wave of sorrow washed over you, tightening your chest. How could you ever find the words to tell him that his mother had orchestrated his father’s death? How could you share that her own mother faced execution in the Colosseum the very next day, accused of treason?

In his tiny, blissful bubble, he simply played with toys, completely unaware of the storm brewing around him. His laughter echoed in the room and in that moment, all the guilt of what you had done that day faded away. You would have done anything for him; he meant to you as much as Marcius did.

He grasped your snake-shaped bracelet, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he toyed with its intricate design. You passed it to him, and together you leaned over the balcony, entranced by the ethereal glow of the full moon casting silver shadows upon the world beneath. The bracelet, a cherished gift from Marcus, seemed to shimmer in the moonlight as if echoing the beauty of the night sky.

Publius beamed with delight, his small fingers dancing over the cool metal until, in a soft drowsiness, he drifted off to sleep in your lap. As he relaxed, the bracelet slipped from his tiny grasp, tumbling over the edge of the balustrade and disappearing into the depths of the darkened garden below, swallowed by the lush, emerald grass.

"My lady, allow me to retrieve it," offered one of the slaves, concern etched on her face. The bracelet held immense sentimental value for you, and you couldn't bear the thought of anyone else touching it.

"No, I can manage it. You take care of him and put him to bed," you said as you made your way toward the stairs. The garden was enveloped in shadows, the air thick with night sounds, and the path ahead felt uncertain. Yet, the radiant light of the full moon illuminated the grass, guiding you as you ventured into the darkness in search of your beloved bracelet.

While you searched for the bracelet in the grass beneath the balcony, one of the guards approached you, but you sent him away. As you continued your search, you heard footsteps approaching from behind. Rolling your eyes, you thought it had to be another guard.

“I told you I’d find it myself—” Suddenly, a hand covered your mouth and pulled you into the shadows between the trees. Confused, you instinctively struggled to break free. The owner of the hand pressed you against him, and you soon recognized his touch.

“Shhh. It’s me,” Marcus whispered in your ear, his mustache tickling your earlobe.

He kept his hand over your mouth as a guard passed by. You could feel his warm breath on your neck while you waited for the guard to move along. Once the area was clear, he removed his hand, and you turned to face him.

“Marcus,” you murmured, then your gaze dropped to his hand. He was holding the bracelet you had been desperately seeking. With a tender touch, he grasped your arm, his fingers warm against your skin as he slid the delicate piece from your wrist, its cool metal slowly gliding up to your upper arm. Leaning closer, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your skin.

“How long have you been here?” you asked.

“Long enough to see the bracelet fall off,” he replied with a smile.

You smiled back and hugged him tightly. After a moment, you pulled back and glanced around. The area looked quiet. Together, you made your way up to your room, taking the stairs in the far corner—the least risky route since it was shrouded in darkness away from the moonlight.

You let out a deep breath of relief as soon as you entered your chambers.

“You're here a bit earlier than I thought,” you said with a smile.

"I have some news that will make you happy," he said, loosening the threads of his cloak.

“Good news then?”

He nodded, removing his cloak and tossing it over the chair before stepping closer to you. “Marcius. Our son is awake. He's much better now.”

You took his hands in yours, overwhelmed with emotion. “That is truly wonderful news, Marcus." You placed your hand over your heart, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. “My darling boy, I wish I could hold him in my arms right now.”

He wrapped his strong arms around your waist. “Soon, my love. Soon, this captivity will end. You will be reunited with your children, and our little ones will be back in their mother’s embrace.”

You nodded, tears shimmering in your eyes as they trickled down your cheeks. “Yes, I must find the strength to wait a little longer. I must have a little more patience.”

Marcus tenderly brushed your cheek with his fingertips. “Speaking of patience, my lady, I’ve reached the limit with certain matters. I don’t think I can endure it any longer.” His hands moved, one pulling you closer with a certain possessiveness, the other gliding down your shoulder in a slow, deliberate caress. As his fingers traveled down your arm, a thrill ran through you as he grasped your wrist with a firm yet gentle hold. Leaning in, he brought your arm to his lips, bestowing soft, lingering kisses on your palm, your forearm, your elbow, and finally your shoulder. Each kiss was accompanied by the heat of his breath, making you giggle.

“You can’t even imagine how much I've missed you,” he murmured, his lips brushing your neck in a series of tender kisses that sent delightful shivers down your spine.

“But isn’t that a bit indecent, General? According to the law, I’m no longer married to you,” you teased him.

He smirked and leaned down to nudge his nose against yours. "Indecent, you say? Weren't you the one who gave yourself to me before we were married, Princess?" His long fingers untied the palla you had wrapped around your waist, and the silk fabric slipped from you, gathering around your feet on the floor.

You laughed, "Hm, but things were different then."

He threaded his fingers through the straps of your tunic, taking his time as he peeled it away, his other hand lingering on your skin. You bit your lip as his breath brushed against your neck. "Indeed," he said, his lips grazing your collarbone. "You were trembling like a frightened gazelle then. Your skin was so fragile it seemed as if a single touch could shatter it like the finest crystal." When your body was completely exposed, he first took a moment to admire you with his eyes. Then, looking as if he were starving, he swept you into his arms so quickly that you gasped. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lifted you up, walking over to the bed with you.

“So you’d rather have me like that?” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

“No, my love. As much as I cherish that version of you, the one that dances in my memories like a vivid dream, I wouldn’t choose it for this moment.” He laid you down on the bed a bit impatiently, and you laughed as you crawled backwards.

"Why?" you asked in your sweetest voice, enjoying the teasing foreplay. As you moved away a little more, Marcus grabbed your ankles and easily slid you towards him, your heart pounding against your chest. "I told you, I have run out of patience." He leaned down and kissed you passionately, his desire more intense than ever. "By the way, there's no law can change the fact that you are mine.”

He said, bending over you as he took another greedy kiss. His tunic hangs loosely, brushing against your skin. When he broke the kiss to remove it aggressively, you felt a rush of excitement as your eyes rested on his muscular chest, which you had missed so much. "I wonder if you have proof," you teased him, and he snickered, clearly amused. "You'll have to prove it," you whispered, running your fingers eagerly along the perfect contours of his chest.

"Prove it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, his laughter echoing around the room. Then his gaze turned serious, his large hands gripping your wrists tightly, his brown eyes roaming over your breasts as his breath caressed them, your breathing quickened, he slid his lips from your neck to your earlobe, and whispered into your ear. "I'll have plenty of proofs by morning, and it'll all be very indecent. How about counting with me?"

You nodded your head vigorously in response; you needed more than words now, your body was already writhing for the touch of his tongue.

You were on fire.

So was he— he’s forgotten how much he misses you, how your body shivers beneath his, how you were crooning his title with your sweet, petite voice. Such a voice that has him near grunting from how hard he is. His fingers ran all over your skin as you moaned, and as much as he likes to tantalise you like this, he needs to be inside you.  He wasted no time pressing his hips into yours, pinning you against the bed and soon clamping your lips together as he took a possessive kiss. It was all teeth and tongue, sloppy and dominating. You stringed your arms around him, nails digging into his shoulders and dragging all the way up into his hair. He could feel it—the arousing tension in the air, the soft urge emanating from your fingers as they toyed with his curls. Just one more tug, one more pull, and he knew he would shatter the delicate thread of control he clung to.

His eyes lowered to your womanhood, and you were practically throbbing beneath the weight of his ravenous gaze. No matter how impatient he was, first he made sure you were ready. Your wetness coating your velvety, silky inner walls told him so well. You had never been so turned on as you were now. He reached between your legs, stroking your folds as he nibbled at your breasts, drawing gasps and moans from your lips. You felt blessed that he was finally touching you and rocked your hips against his hand. He worked patiently as he worshipped one breast thoroughly before moving on to the other while his thick fingers tucked into you.

You whimpered as Marcus withdrew his touch. He lifted his hand to the light, watching your arousal glisten on his fingers. At that, he raised his hand up to those perfect lips of his, then pushed his finger into his mouth to taste you. He let out a hum, low and satisfied and you could feel it resonate deep within you, fanning the fire roaring in your core.

“So ready to be mine,” he said below his breath, and then his hand was back between your legs, sinking two long fingers deep inside you. "Yet I want to taste you more," he purred.

And then he closed the gap.

Heat shot through you as the furnace of his mouth closed over your cunt.

You cried out.

After being deprived of it for so long, the sudden warmth and closeness were almost too much to take. He licked a long, firm stripe over your slit and your thighs trembled as you do your best to keep them spread, the exertion making your muscles ache. His hands cupped your hips, squeezing, holding you in place as he explored deeper.

Every ounce of desperation and need riot through your body, concentrating right below his mouth. You found yourself winding up for release, that coil tightening in your abdomen, set to snap at any moment. Your fingers tangled in his curls, pulling desperately at his hair, only provoke him to do more. You could feel yourself clenching up, your body preparing for impact. Your vision blurred, and your jaw fell open. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Marcus' head dip down, and as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking relentlessly, it was as if they were hitting you all at once. Heat seared through your veins. The tight coil in your abdomen snapped. All that twitching need and desire burst into something fierce, and you came, more than once.

You came and came and came, and Marcus was there with you through it all, each wave hitting you and you drenching his face and hand in release. You see the pink flash of his tongue and your juice dripping from the corners of his lips as he tastes you, and you lose it a little.

“Marcus.”

It could be a plea or a demand; you didn’t know. All you could manage to say was his name, over and over again. He growled against you, free hand gripping onto your thigh to bring it over his shoulder, yanking your hips even farther forward so he could taste you even deeper, felt like you were being devoured by him. That’s when your eyes rolled back, and you just let him have you. Every muscle in your body felt loose and weak. This bed was like a cloud. You felt like you could lie here and let him have you like this all night long, for as long as he wanted.

Once he had enjoyed his feast, Marcus didn’t spend any minute positioning himself between your legs. Licked his lips as he gazed your womanhood, which was glistening with your arousal, wet and ready for him to take you. He was slightly panting as his eyes looked down at you, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as you looked up at him with pleading, half-lidded eyes. The soft glow of the moonlight caressed your features, casting a delicate halo around your face. He found himself mesmerized, captivated by the stunning beauty that radiated from you like a beacon in the night. You were breathtakingly beautiful to him in any light. You always had been, but even more so now after having been apart from you for so long.

He gazed down at you for a few more moments, and you also gazed back at him, both whispering your longing through your eyes. Then he swiftly grabbed your hips and rapidly plunged his length into you, making you moan and letting out a hiss of sheer pleasure at the feel of your tight inner walls clenching around him until he was fully seated inside you. Your breath hitched and another soft moan escaped from your lips as he hovered over you, his hands holding him firmly above you on either side of your arms. You wrapped your legs around him as he began to rock his hips in a slow and steady rhythm. He leaned in, crushing his mouth to yours and drinking in the loud gasp that slips from your lips. Your arms slapped against his back, scrambling to bury your nails into his back, he knew he’s gonna have a nice bruises tomorrow. He slammed into you at a steady, even pace, making glorious grunts and groans. Your chin hooked in hard against his shoulder, legs squeezing him tightly. “Marcus,” you whined, and he thought he was the most fortunate man in the world to hear you make such soft, feminine noises in his ear. He realized how much he had missed this, and he cursed everything that had kept him away from you all this time.

"Marcus," you spoke breathlessly again. "Harder, please.”

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, you could feel his lips curling into smile on your skin and continued to thrust his hips at a steady pace.

“You get loud when I’m rough...” he responded between short pants of breath, which felt hot against your skin. “We’re not at our villa right now, and we’d prefer to keep our voices from carrying to the garden or courtyard.”

“I-, I know…” You let out another whimper, nearly crying out as the tip of his length hit you in that perfect sweet spot at the center of your core, “But I need you to...”

His lips planted a few rough, open-mouthed kisses against the warm, soft skin of your neck, barely stopping himself from getting rough, already and your pleading didn't help him at all.

He was concerned but loved it.

"As you wish, my love."

He moved his hands to grasp your hips again as his continued to rock against yours. He gradually increased the speed and intensity of his thrusts until his length was relentlessly thrusting in and out of your warm, wet walls. You were unashamed to pant and moan against his collarbone as he kept thrust himself deeply inside you.

He savored it, your disheveled, damp hair sticking to your face, the sweat pooling between his chest and your lower back, your muffled soft cries against his neck, the way every moan was punctuated by every thrust of his hips. However, he realised what was coming when your heated moans grew louder -loud enough to resonate throughout the room- accompanied by the slick sounds of your bodies slamming each other. He leaned down and latched onto your lips, silencing you, and you came so hard as you moaned into his mouth.

The bed began to creak under the intensity of his powerful thrusts, increasing in volume as he continued to rapidly plunge his cock into your inner depths. His ragged breath felt satisfyingly warm against your skin, keeping you in a state of heightened pleasure from your release. You clenched around him so hard that he saw stars for a moment, and in a few quick, erratic thrusts of his hips, he followed you, trying hard to stifle his groans, almost collapsing on top of you. It's more powerful than the orgasm he had the last time you made love months ago, and he knew from the way you were gasping for breath that it was the same for you. Your arms loosened their grip around his neck and slid onto his shoulders after leaving a trail of kisses along his temple and down his now damp but still curly hair.

His hips continued to slowly roll against yours as his breathing quickly steadied, making sure he emptied every last drop of his spent inside you. He brought his head up and immediately kissed you, his hands moving from your hips to press back into the mattress again. Your hands and fingers tangled in his hair again as the two of you lost yourselves in a passionate, post-coital kiss.

Slowly, he pulled away, gazing into your half-closed hazel eyes as you stared back at him, his forearms resting on either side of your shoulders. You reached up to caress his cheek with one hand and let out a soft laugh as your other hand slid down to his hip.

"I've truly missed being so close to you, my love," Marcus spoke softly, his voice filled with emotion as he rested his forehead on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Me too," you replied, tilting your head to plant a gentle kiss on his head. "I don’t know how I managed to get through this long without your touch and without you beside me."

He let out a soft sigh. "I promise I won’t let that happen again. Once this is all over, we will return to our home, and we can spend every morning and night just like this."

Tears welled up in your eyes as he lifted his head to meet your gaze. His brows furrowed as he reached up with one hand to wipe away the tears threatening to fall from your eyes with his thumb.

"I don't want to see you cry anymore."

"I won’t," you promised him. "I’m just so glad you came back to me, Marcus. Last night and tonight still feel like a dream."

He gazed at your face, caressing it with his nose before kissing your forehead. Then, he lay down beside you, his arms wrapped around you as you snuggled closer and rested your head on his chest. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, focusing on his heartbeat beneath your ear.

"You looked so beautiful today," he murmured, running his fingers through your long hair. "The distance between us felt unbearable." He let out a troubled sigh. "I wanted nothing more than to run to you."

The tone of his voice hardened at the end of his sentence, prompting you to raise your head and look at him. "Was it just the distance?" He remained silent, his eyes locked onto yours with intensity. "You must have heard what I said at the council today."

He was calm, continued to play with your hair. "It doesn't matter; it's not going to happen anyway. Such a union will never occur." His tone was sharp,  maybe even sharper than his sword. "And you needn't feel guilty about something you spoke under duress."

You sighed. "It was unbelievably terrible. I wanted to escape, to run far away from all of it. I can still see their faces, especially my aunt Antonia's." He placed a soothing kiss on your head. "I told her everything, she insisted on seeing you."

Marcus nodded solemnly. "I've already sent word to her and other trustworthy members of the Senate through Darius."

"You have? Marcus, are you certain they can be trusted completely? Perhaps we should wait just a little longer..."

He shook his head, his frustration palpable. "No, Aurelia, time is not on our side. Darius informed me that Elagabalus' games at the Colosseum will span three days, and on the final day of the games...." He exhaled sharply, a growl rumbling in his throat. "That day has been decreed as a wedding day. We cannot afford to wait any longer. Immediate action is essential. This madness, this treachery, must come to an end."

You suddenly felt tense as he was.

"I'll finish Varus first," he said, looking you in the eye. You could see the rage and desire for revenge in his brown eyes. "The mere sight of him touching you, standing close to you, makes me incredibly angry. I can hardly restrain myself from jumping on him and snapping his wretched neck." Every muscle in his body tightened with barely contained fury as he spoke. You reached out, your fingers brushing against the warmth of his cheek, and in that moment, he closed his eyes, surrendering to the softness of your touch. He then grabbed your hand, and his lips lingered on your knuckles.

"So what's the plan?"

He opened his eyes and planted a kiss on your palm. "We know where he'll be tomorrow night. We'll trap him and catch him before he gets there."

You frowned. "But Elagabalus will be suspicious if he doesn’t see him in the Colosseum."

A calm smile played on his lips as he reassured you. "It will all be alright, my love. I will arrest him for his crimes against Emperor Geta, the Senate, and you, my princess." He kissed your temple this time. "The citizens will witness justice unfold."

You narrowed your eyes, the weight of the challenge evident in your expression. "How? How will you enter without revealing your identity? The Praetorian Guards will surely stop you."

"I will show my face, but only after the battle is won."

You looked up at him, your eyes wide open. "Please, don't tell me you're going to fight there."

"I must, my love. Elagabalus mustn't become suspicious. I will wear a mask to conceal my identity, which will not only prevent him from recognizing me but will also spark his curiosity. Once the people of Rome recognize me and rally behind me, he will be powerless to act against us. The senators and the Praetorian Guard will support our cause. He will be judged and punished in front of all the people of Rome."

In fact, he was right: once Varus was defeated, no one could help Elagabalus in the Colosseum, and it would be better to be executed there. The Roman people's love for Marcus and their anger towards the new emperor was undeniable. However, it still made you uneasy that he was going to fight there, as it always did.

“Must you really fight? Surely, there has to be another way,” you pleaded.

He smiled, his fingers trailing down your spine like a feather brushing against your skin. “With Varus's absence noted, his second-in-command will stand beside Elagabalus. He’ll be prepared for any threats that arise. However, no one would suspect a mere common fighter of the Colosseum, would they? And I will have Lucius, Octavius, and the others by my side. Trust me, my love, it will work out. My greatest concern is that you will be near him the entire time. If anything goes wrong, don’t stray from Darius—he will protect you.”

You nodded. “I will pray to the gods to grant you all their favor.”  Then, you looked at him frowning. "I forbid you to lose the battle, General."

A wide grin spread across his face took your thin finger in his strong, calloused hand, pulling you toward him, your chin slammed against his chest. "How could I, my princess?" He placed one hand between your breasts and you bit your lower lip as he slowly caressed first one and then the other. "How dare I lose, when you await, ready to bestow upon me the breathtaking beauty that you possess as a grand reward."

He buried his face between your breasts, his beard tickling your skin and making you chuckle. "All yours, my love."

He slipped his hand between your legs as his tongue ran along your nipples. "Is this mine too? Tell me."

As if he hadn't already made you all his.

You moaned as his long fingers slid between your folds, giving you delicious pleasure. He leaned and whispered in your ear. "Tell me, my love."

“Yours,” you breathed, your voice trembling with desire. “I am all yours.” A mischievous grin spread across his face as he loomed over you, his presence as commanding as the heat radiating between you. With a gentle yet firm motion, he parted your legs with his knee. “I want to hear you say it over and over again,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry, “as I make you undeniably mine…”

——

As the first light of dawn crept into the room, you slowly opened your eyes, feeling the gentle warmth of his touch on your forehead.

"My love, I must leave before the sun fully rises," he whispered tenderly, his fingers delicately combing through your hair.

You nodded, still caught in the tendrils of sleep. "Be careful, my love," you murmured

"Tomorrow, it will all be over, and I’ll never have to leave you alone in bed again," he promised.

With a sudden rush of awareness, you sat up, the sheets cascading down your arms. Marcus was already dressed; this would be the last time you would see him before he entered the Colosseum.

"You don’t need to rise; go back to sleep," he murmured.

You reached out, fingertips brushing against his hand, feeling the warmth of his presence. "Then, give me one last kiss, my love. I need it to carry me through today."

He grinned and sat down beside you, wrapping his arms around you and leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips. You rested your head on his chest, closing your eyes. "Just one more day... One more day, and then I'm free." You took both of his hands, looking into his eyes. "Marcus, his death must be public as well. He must receive the punishment he deserves."

"I want to kill him with my own hands, but if that's what you want, your wishes are my orders, my princess." He kissed your hands, one after the other. "But may I beat him to death first?"

You smiled. "Indeed. Beat him for me too."

“With great pleasure.” he smirked and kissed your cheek before standing up. You watched him with a smile on your face as he quietly left the room.

After his departure, you sank back into the warm embrace of sleep, your body still buzzing from the passionate night spent with him.

When you finally opened your eyes again, the morning sun poured through the expansive window, casting a golden glow across the room and gently warming your face. You raised your arm instinctively to shield your eyes from the blinding light, and in that moment, the intoxicating scent of Marcus enveloped you, wrapping around you like a soft, familiar blanket. His essence lingered on your skin, clinging to you as though he had imprinted his presence upon every inch of you and the rumpled sheets.

With a swift motion, you threw the covers aside and rushed out of bed, gathering the bedsheets from each corner of the bed with a sense of urgency. You wanted to ensure that everything remained untouched by the hands of the slaves and to avoid raising any suspicion about your being in the room with someone else last night. Here, in this grand palace, the comforts of your own home felt like a distant memory, and the thought made you chuckle softly, a slight ache between your legs reminding you of how thoroughly Marcus had claimed you just hours before, more than once. It had been a long-awaited reunion, and now it felt like a delightful dream, one you wished you could linger in for a little longer.

A sudden knock at the door snapped you back to reality, and your cheeks flushed and you quickly wore your tunic. One of the slaves entered, bowing slightly, and you requested them to prepare your bath. You longed for the calming waters to cleanse away the remnants of the night and help you prepare before heading to the Colosseum. You needed that to feel ready to sit beside Elagabalus, bracing yourself for another round of his nonsensical chatter.

After the soothing bath, you fought to maintain your composure as the slaves bustled around you, carefully dressing you in luxurious garments and intricately preparing your hair. They adorned you with extravagant hairpins and a radiant laurel crown, their diligent efforts a testament to their strict instructions. You didn’t wish to dismiss them or decline their help, fully aware that any perceived failure would lead to their chastisement and punishment. Longing for the warmth of home, you missed Decima, Norell, and Tullia dearly, counting down the moments until you could be reunited with them.

Then there was Nerissa. The thought of her twisted like a knife in your heart, igniting a mix of hurt and fury as memories flooded back. You remembered the tender conversations you once shared as she styled your hair, moments that felt sincere, now marred by betrayal. You couldn’t fathom how she could betray you so deeply, and the idea of witnessing her execution today sent shivers of anxiety coursing through you. Despite this unease, you felt a grim sense of justice brewing within; after all, it was her treachery that had cost you dear Geta.

Your heart squeezed painfully as you glanced at Publius, who sat innocently on your bed, struggling to take bites of his apple. Each time your eyes fell on him, the ghost of his father flickered in your memory. Geta had held a sacred place in your heart, and you knew it would forever remain empty; his absence would hurt you for the rest of your life.

“Your aunt will be back tonight. Wait for my return, my little dove,” you said softly, kissing the crown of his head. With a heavy heart, you bid farewell to Publius, promising to see him again in the evening, and turned toward the stairs leading down to the courtyard.

Yet, as you descended, your hope dwindled, and a wave of despair swept over you at the sight of the last person you wanted to encounter. Varus stood near the fountain, clad in his imposing general’s uniform. As your eyes met, he offered a disconcerting smile and sauntered over.

“My lady,” he said, bowing his head.

You averted your gaze. “Have you decided to start ruining my day early?” you retorted, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

“His Majesty asked us to go there together, remember?”

“This must be an unmissable opportunity for you,” you murmured, unable to mask the bitterness in your voice.

He grinned, “I’d be lying if I said no.”

For reasons unknown, he was in high spirits today, and the easy lightness of his demeanor repulsed you. His grin was disturbing, grating against your nerves, and it was infuriating to know you would have to endure his company throughout the day.

You tried to hold on to the belief that tomorrow it would all be over. However, when you arrived at the Colosseum, things became even more complicated. Elagabalus was sitting in Geta's seat, grinning with smug pleasure. Seeing him like that made your body shake with rage; you wanted to stick a knife in his neck and end it all right then and there—if only it were that easy.

He greeted you by standing up and holding out his hand. Instead of looking at him, you smiled and acknowledged the crowd as they chanted your name. Elagabalus was annoyed that his hand was in the air, but he maintained his smile. You took satisfaction in seeing his irritation. As you moved to take the seat away from him, he grabbed your arm and pulled you closer. "I want you to sit next to me," he said in a commanding tone.

Even though a part of you resisted, you had no choice but to obey his commands. The weight of the moment pressed heavily upon you, far more than you could have anticipated. Memories of Geta surged forth, flooding your senses. You could almost hear his laughter, vibrant and infectious, as he cheered for the fighters in the arena, his eyes sparkling with excitement. He would often turn to you, his smile wide, seeking your opinion or trying to coax a laugh from you amidst the chaos. The bittersweet recollections tightened your throat, making it hard to swallow back the tears.

Adding to your turmoil was the sight of Varus taking the seat on your other side, where Marcus had once been. The sight filled you with a simmering anger. "Patience," you told yourself, "Patience a little more. Tomorrow, they will both be dead." Your fingers dug into the armrests, the golden material digging into your palms, as you tried to steady your racing heart.

The announcer declared the opening of the games, accompanied by the rhythmic sound of drums and pipes. The large iron gates creaked open, releasing clouds of dust. Nerissa and the other Greeks were herded into the arena with their hands in chains. Elagabalus grinned as the crowd shouted "traitors" at them. With a loud creak, another iron gate swung open, unleashing a thunderous roar that reverberated through the air. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices a cacophony of excitement, as they witnessed the guards grappling with two powerful tigers, their muscular bodies straining against the chains that bound them. The guards struggled to maintain control, each step a precarious dance as the tigers lunged and growled, their golden eyes gleaming with a wild ferocity.

You were taken aback; you had anticipated a gruesome execution, perhaps by beheading, not this chaotic display. A shiver of tension coursed through you, and you glanced at Elagabalus, who was clapping his hands with manic delight, his laughter echoing like a lunatic’s song amidst the turmoil.

The thought of anyone dying this way made you anxious every time, and it’s a sight you are absolutely unprepared to witness.

"Varus! Tell them to give each one a knife. I don’t want it to end so quickly; let’s see some war!" He burst into laughter as he said this to him.

"What’s the point? They’re all in chains anyway," you muttered.

"You wouldn’t believe what a man will do to fight for his life, my lady," he replied.

You rolled your eyes, feeling no excitement at all. All you wanted was for it to be over quickly so you could hurry back to the palace.

Of course, they had no chance against the tigers and were soon eaten by them, accompanied by terrible shouts and cries. Even though you followed the rest of the fight with your eyes closed, you could hear the disturbing and creepy sounds coming from the arena. The crowd cheered and shouted with excitement, and when the roars of the tigers stopped, you opened your eyes. You didn't look at it but you sensed the dusty, smoky, and rusty odor in the air with all your senses. Elagabalus stood up and applauded the tigers before sitting down and leaning in.

“I can see you are quite sensitive, princess, but it’s only the first day of the games. If you’re reacting like this today, I wonder how you’ll feel tomorrow when you see the rhino.”

You looked at him in shock. “Did you say rhino?”

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “You didn’t know? Geta really knows how to entertain. Isn’t it a pity he won’t be able to witness such a spectacle in the arena?”

You brushed aside his insinuation, your heart tightening at the mere thought of Marcus facing that immense beast tomorrow. A chill ran down your spine, and your pulse quickened.

“You're all pale. Are you alright?” he asked.

You stood up. “I want to go back to the palace.”

He stood up too. “Won’t you have dinner with me?”

“No,” you replied coldly, turning away. But Varus grabbed your shoulders and turned you toward Elagabalus.

“You mustn't turn your back on His Majesty, my lady,” he admonished, his voice low and stern.

Fury surged within you, and you pushed his hands away with force. “Do not touch me.”

Both of you looked back at Elagabalus, who was cackling with laughter. “You’d better get used to it, he’s to be your husband soon.”

Varus grinned and you pouted in frustration, feeling as though the world around you was closing in. It was incredibly hard to bear.

“Anyway, you’re free to go. I’m leaving now, but I insist that you both join me for dinner."

“We will, Your Majesty,” Varus replied, casting a glance your way, but you averted your gaze

You certainly didn’t want to attend the dinner, but you knew all too well that you had no choice in the matter, and you hated it.

It will be the last dinner you will ever have, you thought as you squinted at the two of them.

Dinner turned out to be quite different from what you expected. It was just you, Varus, a few members of the Senate, and some legion commanders. The absence of the other Senate members, coupled with the fact that you had not seen Antonia again, left you feeling demoralized. With her present, the situation would have been more bearable, but without her, enduring the tedious meal felt nearly impossible.

The guests discussed the events of the first day of the games, their plans for the upcoming days, and various political topics. You couldn't recall ever feeling so bored. Perhaps it was because you were the only woman at the dinner, or maybe it was the fact that they were talking about your wedding day, which was never going to happen. You found yourself praying for the night to end. Your thoughts kept drifting to Marcus and your children; every minute apart from them felt like a growing torment.

When the meal finally concluded, Varus asked Elagabalus for permission to escort you to the Domus Tiberiana. Of course, he ignored your objections; he seemed to enjoy the situation, treating it all as if it were just a game, an entertainment for him to amuse him.

What a bastard.

You were annoyed that he was going to accompany you to the palace, as if you hadn't seen enough of his miserable face today. A bit of nervousness crept in, knowing that Marcus and the others planned to catch him tonight. Darius must have informed them that he was escorting you. Perhaps they would wait to ambush him on his way back.

"What would you prefer as a wedding gift?"

Suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by that wretched question. You didn't want to hear any more wedding talk. You squinted at him. "Your head, severed, on a spike."

He laughed indecently. "You never know whose head will be on a spike, my lady."

Suddenly, the horses neighed, and the carriage came to a halt. You were taken by surprise, but Varus showed no signs of astonishment when you glanced at him. He shouted out the carriage door to his soldiers, “What’s going on? Why have we stopped?”

You heard the sharp sound of a sword being drawn, followed by a familiar growl. “Get out at once!”

Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized Marcus’s voice. You wondered if he knew you were inside the carriage. Despite the urge to flee, you remained still, convinced that staying concealed was the wisest choice.

Varus stepped out, and everyone at Marcus's side unsheathed their swords, the metal glinting in the torchlight on the street. Meanwhile, Varus's soldiers hesitated, their eyes wide with shock as they processed the sight of Marcus—their former general—standing alive before them when they had believed him to be dead.

“Acacius. Back from the dead, I see. I truly wonder what makes you so special,” Varus spat, his tone dripping with disdain.

“Ask the gods yourself when I send you forth, if your damned soul can even ascend,” he replied firmly. “Though I have serious doubts about that."

Varus laughed, casting a sharp glance at Marcus and his men. “What are you going to do, kill me? Do you really think I am aware of your plan? Underestimating me was a big mistake, Acacius.”

You felt a rush of tension. How could he possibly know all this?

The tension increased when you heard the sound of several horsemen approaching. More soldiers quickly dismounted and formed a line behind Varus, their surprise evident as they drew their swords, gazing at Marcus in awe.

In an instant, they outnumbered Marcus and his men, yet he stood his ground without a hint of fear.

“It's over Varus. Surrender, now. Otherwise, you will face the consequences. And rest assured, I will not show mercy to you.”

Varus grinned. "You don't stand a chance against us, and it's not just my soldiers—there's someone else here. Come on, my lady."

He extended his hand to you, but you pulled away, shaking your head. Then, he grabbed your arm roughly and pulled you out.

“Let go of me!” you shouted, but he tightened his grip.

Marcus saw you and wasn't surprised, but there was concern and anger in his eyes.

“Get your hands off her!” he roared, lunging toward Varus.

“Aurelia, you don’t seem astonished to see your husband is alive,” Varus said with a smug grin.

“What the hell are you doing?” You struggled to break free.

“Ensuring my safety,” he muttered, then looked at them.“ You believed you had me trapped, but the reality is, it’s you who is ensnared, Acacius. Lower your swords now, all of you!”

Marcus pointed his sword toward him. "Take your hands off her!"

"Be careful what you wish for," he grunted and with a quick motion, he pulled his pugio from his waist and, before you knew it, he had it at your throat. You gasped and instinctively tilted your head backward.

"No!" Marcus let out a shout. "I swear I'll tear you to pieces if you do anything to her!"

He pressed sharp metal against your soft skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "Unless I cut her thin neck first."

Marcus stood trembling with fury, the heat of anger coursed through him like wildfire, making it difficult to focus on anything sensible.

“Drop your swords, or Rome will truly lose its precious princess!” Varus shouted again, you swallowed.

Marcus glanced back at his men and, with his subtle approval, they all reluctantly sheathed their swords, Marcus included.

“Now, take that damn knife from her neck,” he said, his voice threatening.

“Step forward first,” he said, waving him closer with his other hand.

“No! Marcus, don't!” you shouted, panic rising in your chest.

“Calm down, Aurelia,” he said, stepping closer with caution. From his expression, you realized he was planning something, but you sensed that Varus would stab him with the knife if he got any closer.

"Stop it!" you shouted at the top of your lungs, ignoring the sharp blade pressing against your skin. "I, your princess, command you! Varus is a traitor! He has betrayed his title, his emperor, the Roman legions, and the people of Rome. You must follow General Acacius’s orders and arrest this traitor at once!”

"Shut your mouth or I'll really slit your throat!" Varus shouted in your ear, pulling you roughly as you groaned.

Marcus growled, his gaze fixed on the pugio at your throat.

“Your princess commands you; heed her call!” Octavius's voice rang out with authority “I trained each of you with my own hands, and you know both me and your general. Will you truly raise your swords against us, your commanders, for the sake of this traitor?”

The soldiers looked at one another, uncertainty flickering in their eyes like the dim light of a wavering torch. Varus, perceiving their hesitation, tried to assert his dominance. “Don’t listen to them! I am your general!” His tone was desperate, almost pleading, as if he could sense his grip on their loyalty slipping away.

Just then, the thunder of hooves echoed in the distance, growing louder as another horseman emerged from the shadows, followed closely by several more.

"About damn time!" Octavius hissed and looked at Marcus, but his gaze remained on you. He cared for nothing but you.

It was Darius who arrived, visibly enraged by what he saw. He looked at Marcus as he jumped off his horse. “Apologies, General. This traitor had me arrested, but fortunately, I still have men loyal to me.” He said, drawing his sword. “Varus, release Lady Aurelia now!”

Varus grew angry and tense, but he did not let you go. With each passing minute, Marcus’s anger intensified, and his patience wore thin. He was waiting for just one failure from him—just one. Then he would act to save you.

"Anyone who aids the traitor will face the same punishment!" Darius bellowed at the soldiers. "Surrender now, all of you!”

This time, the soldiers felt defeated. One of them stepped forward, raised his sword, and glanced at the others. “Our true general is Acacius. My life is yours, General,” he said, sheathing his sword and placing his hand on his chest while bowing his head respectfully. The others nodded in agreement, declaring, “General Acacius, forgive us, sir. Our lives are yours!” They all followed his lead. Marcus also placed his hand on his chest, but he remained uneasy, his eyes still focused on you.

Marcus, keenly aware of the tension radiating from Varus, seized the perfect moment. He lunged toward him, his hand clamping tightly around the wrist that clutched the knife. As you broke free from his grip, you instinctively propelled yourself backward. The atmosphere crackled with urgency as a fierce struggle erupted between the two men. Octavius firmly grasped your arm, pulling you back to ensure your safety while Darius stood protectively in front of you.

After a moment, Marcus managed to grab the knife from Varus' hand and threw it away, punching him hard instead of stabbing him. The soldiers wanted to help him, but Octavius stopped them. "Let our General kick his filthy ass," he said, grinning.

And that's exactly what he did, knocking Varus to the ground and jumping on top of him, hitting him repeatedly in the face, his roar echoing through the street with each hard blow. You soon heard the bone-cracking sound. It felt like he was finally relaxing, and so did everyone around him, who watched with expressionless faces as Marcus reshaped Varus' face.

When Varus didn't react, lying still like a corpse, Marcus looked at him and smiled. He stood up, looked at you, and everyone else stared at Varus's bloodied, unrecognisable face.When he wanted to step towards you, he paused, looked at himself, and saw his face, arms, and clothes were covered in blood. He hesitated, then wiped the blood off his face with the back of his hand, then on the fabric of his cloak.You approached him and took his hand, not caring that it was covered with blood.

"Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?" he asked, his brow furrowed with concern as he scanned your face and neck for any signs of injury.

You nodded slowly. "I'm alright, are you?"

He smiled, "I am now."

You smiled back at him.

"Oh, sir?"

You both turned at the sound of Felix's voice. He was looking at Varus with curiosity. "It looks like he's dead," he said.

Together, you approached Varus. You felt nauseous to see him like that; however, you also felt relieved. Octavius kicked him, but he only grunted and coughed violently, spattering crimson onto the ground.

Marcus glanced down and squinted at him. "He'll live," he said, then turned to Darius. "Take him and stay hidden. Be careful."

Darius met his gaze and looked at the others."You too."

They lifted Varus onto a horse, and as they were departing, you turned to Marcus. "So, Elagabalus is next."

Marcus nodded. "Elagabalus is next, my lady.”

—-

Chapter 27: Comeuppance

 

Proditio causam non habet, sed poenam.

Treason has no cause, only punishment.

 

previously...

They lifted Varus onto a horse, and as they were departing, you turned to Marcus. "So, Elagabalus is next.”

Marcus nodded, smiling. "Elagabalus is next, my lady.”

now...

"General, there's someone approaching," Aris said, his hand darting to the hilt of his sword, eyes narrowing in caution along with other soldiers.

As everyone turned to look in that direction, Lucius rounded the corner and stepped toward you. He first glanced at the horsemen riding away—Darius and his men, taking Varus with them. Then he shifted his focus to the others, noticing the blood on Marcus. A grin spread across his face as he approached.

"Did I miss all the fun?" he asked, his tone playful.

You stepped toward him, smiling. "Lucius."

"Aurelia," he replied, smiling back and wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace. You felt touched as you hugged him, realizing how much you had missed him.

While you embraced, the others exchanged furtive glances at Marcus, who stood motionless, observing you two.

"Lucius, have you taken care of everything? Are we ready to go in?" Octavius asked.

"Yes, I’ve handled it, but we should hurry," Lucius replied.

“Good,” Octavius said, turning to Marcus, who was still attempting to clean his hands with a stained rag, the blood almost stubbornly resistant to removal. “Are we all going to fight, sir?”

As they discussed the matter, Lucius turned to you, concern flickering in his eyes.

"I didn't know you were going to be here," he said.

"I didn't either," you said. "Varus figured out the plan, but I don't know how. He brought me here to save himself and trap all of you."

Lucius squinted at Marcus. "We were the only ones who knew."

"It was," Marcus replied, turning to the soldiers accompanying Varus. "He didn't say anything to any of you?"

The soldiers exchanged wary looks, their expressions revealing that they were merely following orders. Finally, one of them stepped forward, his voice firm yet cautious. "No, sir. We simply escorted the carriage."

A chilling wave of fear washed over you, tightening your chest. "Marcus, what if one of the slaves or guards at Domus Tiberiana overheard us? What if they do something to Publius? I need to get back right away."

Marcus placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you amidst the rising anxiety. "Calm yourself; we don’t know that yet." He turned to the other soldiers, his tone commanding. "You are to take Lady Aurelia to the palace and make sure no one learns of what transpired here. No one must know that I am alive. And if anyone inquires about Varus, you will say you don’t know where he is. Understood?"

The soldiers nodded in unison. "Yes, General."

With a swift glance at the group, Marcus continued, "If you’re ready, let’s move out."

They nodded and shifted slightly, creating a bubble of privacy around you and Marcus. He turned back to face you.

You grasped his hand, your heart racing. "You’re fighting tomorrow, and I can’t shake this unease, Marcus. If anything happens to you..."

A warm smile spread across his face as he enveloped your hand in both of his, the strength of his grip offering comfort. "Don’t worry, my lady. Tomorrow, it will all be over, and the heavy darkness that has shrouded Rome will finally lift."

"I have faith in the loyalty and honor of the people towards you," you said. "But the Praetorians are now wholly under Elagabalus, standing ready to fulfill his every command. I fear their loyalty to their new emperor will drown out the wishes of the people."

"Not just the people, but the Senate, the Consuls—everyone will unite against Elagabalus," he said. "The Praetorians cannot withstand such a tide, especially not for someone like Elagabalus. Ultimately, they will have no choice but to heed the orders of their commander, Darius. Tomorrow, we will avenge Geta, I swear it," he vowed, his fingers gently brushing your cheek with a tender intimacy. The mention of Geta sent a pang through you, a familiar ache that felt as fresh as that omnious day.

You let out a sigh, attempting to push the negative thoughts out of your mind. "By the way, Elagabalus said, there will be a rhino in the arena tomorrow.'"

Marcus paused, brows furrowed. "Caracalla," he hissed. "He mentioned a rhino for Geta’s birthday, which was supposed to be fought in the arena. That was before he became Macrinus' instrument, I suppose. At that time, I thought he was merely unwell,making jokes. But it was not a joke." he murmured.

"Apparently," you murmured.

“Don’t worry, I’m not about to let a it defeat me,” he declared. “A rhino may loom large and intimidating, but it doesn’t instill the same fear in me as a tiger does. I will defeat it, just as I have overcome all the other animals before, my lady."

A wide smile spread across your face, “I’m sure you will. Just be careful.” You said and embraced him.

The others cleared their throats and looked away, respecting the moment. Marcus kissed your hand before helping you into the carriage. He ordered the coachman to start his horses. The soldiers saluted their general, mounted their horses, and escorted your carriage from behind. As you were going in opposite directions, you peeked through the small window, watching him until he was out of sight.

—-

As soon as you arrived at Domus Tiberiana, you went straight to Publius' room, your heart raced as you hurried to stairs. Fortunately, Publius was safe, sleeping peacefully in his large bed. The guards and slaves treated you the same as always, but you couldn't shake the feeling that there might be spies among them. You held tightly to the hope that everything would unfold as planned tomorrow, when Elagabalus was set to face arrest in the Colosseum.

You removed your palla, letting the rich fabric fall softly to the floor, and slipped off your jewelry, placing it aside. Climbing into bed beside him, you felt a wave of comfort wash over you. As your fingers glided through his silky golden hair, your thoughts turned to your children—an ever-present ache in your heart. You couldn’t help but pray to the gods, your silent words filled with desperation. You prayed for Publius, for the well-being of your children, for the success of Marcus' daring plan, and most importantly, for the salvation of Rome from the grasp of Elagabalus.

In the morning, you awoke to find Publius tugging at your dress. He was humming sweetly, his small hands grasping at your tunic. His mouth opened and closed, almost as if in frustration. Suddenly, you felt your heart twist inside you, and your chest tightened. You realized what he wanted—he was hungry and wanted to suckle your breast. You let the strap of your tunic slide off your shoulder and brought your breast closer to him, he took your nipple into his little mouth and began to suckle with appetite. Your son Marcius had been weaned by the age of one, likely because your milk was insufficient to satisfy his growing appetite—solid foods had begun to entice him with their richer flavors and textures. In contrast, Publius wanted to cling to the breast a little longer, perhaps not necessarily out of hunger or a craving for milk, but rather seeking the warmth and comfort of his mother’s love.

Furious and consumed by a deep-seated resentment, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow at Nerissa's death. For leaving Publius all alone. But it didn't matter, he was your son now, just as Marcius was and your daughter. The ache of separation from your precious little daughter was manifested physically; your breasts were painfully swollen, and sometimes milk leaked, a bittersweet reminder of her absence. However, you found an unexpected gratitude for Publius suckling; breastfeeding him brought a strange relief to you.

You couldn't help but wonder how they were caring for your baby girl. She was only months old, still so tiny. Today felt like a turning point; you were about to be reunited with her and with your son, and the thought filled you with hope. "Just a little more patience," you whispered to yourself, though the waiting had become almost unbearable.

Then there was a knock at the door.

“My lady, I’ve brought your breakfast,” one of the slaves said.

Publius had already stopped suckling and was playing with his toys, so you adjusted your dress and sat up in bed.

"Come in." you called.

The slave girl entered the room, carrying a tray filled with pastries and fruit. The sweet smells filled the air. You asked her to set the tray on the table. After you finished breakfast, you noticed that Publius had fallen asleep, his face peaceful in the morning light.

You then walked to your room. The slaves helped you get ready, wrapping you in layers of soft, luxurious fabric and jewelry.

Soon, someone announced that your carriage had arrived to take you to the Colosseum with Elagabalus accompanying you. Your heart raced, and you took a deep breath to calm yourself. As you stepped into the courtyard towards the carriage passing by the large garden filled with flowers and greenery, your thoughts were focused only on Marcus.

—-

Marcus was standing before the tomb of his former commander, the late Maximus. He remembered the day he fought Commodus in the arena, killed him, and then got himself killed. Who could have foreseen that an emperor even more tyrannical than Commodus would seize control of Rome? The thought struck him like a dagger. An emperor worse than the notorious Caracalla and Geta—how could it be possible?

“Maximus, my brother, I hope you can hear me,” he began, his voice heavy with emotion. “Like you, I have faced the brutal arena countless times—some instances as harsh punishment, others merely to demonstrate to those wicked twin emperors that I am worthy of bearing the title of general. I emerged from the chaos of battle that they, and their ambitious mother, thrust upon me. As a general, I was showered with the love and adoration of the people, just as you were. They remembered me, just like they remembered you. They called me merciful; they hailed me as a savior. Each time I heard their praises, I thought of you, and like you, I dreamed of meeting my end in this very arena, but only after I had achieved something great for Rome." He looked down. "But that was before I met her.” An embarassed smile flickered across his face. “For the first time, I find myself consumed by a paralyzing fear of death—fear of never seeing her again, of failing to protect my children, and of being unable to save Rome. Yet, I will not shy away from that fear; instead, I will harness it to become stronger, just as you taught me. I know that I am the only one who can save Rome from this terrible plague, and I am resolved to do it." He placed his hand on Maximus' armor, feeling the weight of his brother's legacy. "As we always say, strength and honor.”

“Acacius,” Octavius said as he approached him. “It is time.”

Marcus saluted the monument to Maximus, placing his hand on his chest before turning to face him. The others were gathered near the large iron gate, talking among themselves and strategizing. They were all preparing to fight as fighters from the stable of Consus, Paulina's husband; everything had been organized. However, the atmosphere was thick with tension, as heavy as the humidity before a storm. As Marcus approached, he noticed their uneasy expressions—nervous glances and furrowed brows. Whispers filled the air, filled with unspoken worries that had settled over them since the ominous sound of the rhino echoed through the Colosseum's underground hall.

“What is it? Are you afraid?” Marcus asked, his tone unwavering and sharp. “We have fought side by side before, facing down tigers with unyielding courage. Have you forgotten that? I told you then that victory was not just a possibility—it was our destiny. The stakes are the same now, and I have complete faith that we will emerge victorious once more. This time, we are not being pushed into battle; we are stepping forward willingly, driven by our purpose. We fight for Rome, for our home, and we will liberate it from the grip of traitors. Together, we will rebuild what has been lost, stronger than before. Let there be no doubt: we will succeed. If Maximus were here with us today, I have no doubt he would have done the same. Remember how we marched to the city gates for him? Just when we believed he was dead, he sent word, and we were prepared to take down Commodus right here in this arena."

They nodded, recalling that day.

"Today, we honor his legacy, reclaim our strength, and free Rome from another usurper. Now tell me, are you with me?"

The hesitation on their faces vanished in an instant. With a renewed sense of purpose, they looked at him and declared, “We are with you, General!”

A warm smile spread across Marcus’s face as he met their gaze, but soon his attention shifted to Lucius standing nearby. “You are not my soldier, and you are no longer a gladiator. You are a free man. So you don’t have to fight if you don't wish to.”

“True, I’m not your soldier,” Lucius replied. “I am now a Roman, and I believe I can fight for Rome, since all my best friends are Romans. It would be an honor to stand with them in their noble struggle.”

Marcus nodded appreciatively. “Since you’re ready to fight for us, that makes you one of my soldiers, Lucius.”

The corners of Lucius's mouth curled into a teasing smirk. “If you expect me to take orders from you, you’ll be waiting a long time.”

A tense silence followed, with the others casting wary glances at Lucius. Yet Marcus chuckled, the sound echoing warmly through the air. “Fair enough.”

Suddenly, the exhilarating rhythm of drums and brass pierced the atmosphere. One by one, they began to don their armor and weapons, each piece clanking softly as they prepared for battle. “Choose galeas that cover your face,” Marcus advised and he reached for a galea that shrouded his face entirely, obscuring his features, and placed it firmly on his head.

As he supervised his men, he meticulously checked their armor and swords, ensuring they were ready for the challenges ahead. When the announcer's voice cut through the air, calling for Elagabalus, they stepped forward, marching as one towards the gate. The guards opened the way for them, and they didn't seem suspicious.

Marcus’s gaze pierced through the bars of the gate, scanning the imperial tribune, seeking your presence among the crowd. “Tell me, did you truly mean it when you said you wanted to fight for us?”

Lucius was standing beside him, kept his eyes fixed on the same spot as Marcus without turning to him and replied, "I meant it.”

Marcus felt thrilled when he heard your name announced, and his excitement grew even more upon seeing you. Lucius couldn’t help but smile when he noticed the gleaming hope in Marcus’s eyes fixed on you, recognizing how your presence encouraged him.

“But there’s another reason,” Lucius added. “I will fight for someone who is waiting for me, and I will fight to get back to her.”

Marcus turned his head slowly, contemplating Lucius's words.

“Just like you will fight for her," he added.

Then they both turned their heads to look at you.

“You’re fighting for her, are you not? You could slit that miniature emperor's throat in his sleep if you wish. However, your love is holding you back. If you fail, he will hurt her." Lucius continued, lowering his voice this time. "You can share with me what you won't reveal to your soldiers, you know."

There was no denying it: Lucius was right.

"Some must be blind to not see how deeply you love her, enough to sacrifice everything for her sake, even your own life."

Marcus smiled in response. As a commander, he had to spur his men on with a belief greater than any single life. Moreover, it wouldn't benefit them; every commander did it and should have done it. They didn’t need to know that their commander was fighting solely for his beloved. Among his soldiers, he valued his bond with Octavius, but he felt a deeper connection with Lucius, with whom he felt completely safe confiding his feelings. He was surprised when he realized that fact, but he didn’t lower his guard— not yet.

“For her, for Rome,” Marcus replied succinctly, his tone sharp and closed to further argument.

——

"Usurper!" 

"Go away!" 

"You'll never rule us, Elagabalus!"

Elagabalus waved his hands in a feeble attempt to quell the crowd's shouts, but it was clear he was upset. In that moment, when your name was announced, their anger transformed into joy and enthusiasm. You greeted them with a smile and took your seat beside Elagabalus. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of his face, and you silently wished it would be the last time he occupied that throne. Deep down, you believed that soon it would all be over.

Elagabalus turned to you, glancing at the empty seat next to you. "Why isn’t Varus here yet?" he asked. You sensed something weird in his voice. 

“How should I know?” you replied calmly, your gaze fixed on the imposing iron gates.

Narrowing his eyes, Elagabalus called over one of the guards and whispered something in his ear. As the guard left, you noticed that Darius was missing, even though he should have been there with the other guards.

Where could he be?

Suddenly, the sound of drums and brasses filled the air, shattering your thoughts. The crowd roared with enthusiasm as the announcer declared the start of the second day of the games.

One of the massive iron gates swung open, and one by one, the announced gladiators—whom you recognized well—began to enter the arena. Your heart pounded with excitement. Each gladiator wore a galea that concealed his face, but you recognized Marcus instantly. The way he held his sword and the way he walked and stood were unmistakable; you would have recognized him anywhere, no matter what he wore.

They looked in your direction and gave their classic salute to the emperor. You smiled at Marcus; though you couldn't see his face, you felt that he was smiling back. Elagabalus seemed pleased with himself, returning the gesture and waving. “They don’t look surprised; they are obviously experienced fighters,” he said, glancing at you.

“You're right, they do,” you replied with a forced smile.

“We'll soon see how experienced they are,” he said with a grin. Just then, one of the great iron gates in the opposite direction opened noisily, and a grunt echoed that sounded almost like thunder. The crowd leapt to their feet and you felt the ground shake as the rhinoceros and its rider made their way into the arena. You remembered the slight earthquake you had experienced in Egypt; it had been strong enough to shake the boats on the Nile, but this was different. Every step of this huge animal was jarring and sent a shiver down your spine.

You had seen elephants numerous times before, but they had never intended to harm anyone, and their footsteps didn’t instill fear. However, this rhino was clearly trained to kill.

“That’s Glyceo!” Octavius hissed.

The crowd erupted with excitement, cheering and chanting his name like a battle cry.

“The last time I saw him, he was riding an elephant,” Aris added, his voice full of awe.

"You all know him, huh?" Lucius asked.

“He was Geta's undefeated champion; I thought he had retired,” Felix explained, his eyes wide with surprise.

Lucius twirled his sword confidently. “Apparently, he hasn’t.”

Marcus glanced at Glyceo. “Our main purpose is to neutralize the animal; Glyceo is our second priority,” he declared, looking at each of them. “Stay alert. Hold your ground until it charges, then make a break for the wall.”

“Be cautious of that mace in his hand—don’t get too close,” Lucius added.

With a fierce kick, Glyceo propelled the rhino forward, the beast snorting and pawing the ground as if ready to unleash its fury. Everyone gripped their swords tightly, anticipation crackling in the air as they awaited Marcus’s signal. The crowd roared around them, creating a pulse that quickened your heartbeat.

“Hold!” Marcus commanded, his voice steady.

The rhino charged at them like a wild storm, its thunderous footsteps shaking the ground beneath them. Dust exploded into the air, swirling around them and obscuring their vision. You held your breath, straining to catch a glimpse of Marcus through the thick cloud, the tension in the atmosphere palpable.

“Break!” he shouted, and everyone quickly threw themselves to the side. However, Glyceo quickly understood their intention, tugged on the rhino's ropes, and halted the massive creature, which let out a deep grunt. Turning back for the next assault, Marcus looked at his men and drove his sword into the sandy ground. “It can't attack us all at once,” he said as he bent down to scoop up some sand.

“I see what you’re trying to do; not bad, General,” Lucius said with a grin. He bent down to follow suit, and the others did the same to confuse the rhino. When the next charge came, just as Marcus or Lucius was rushing toward the creature when suddenly everyone threw sand into the air. Lucius managed to make a quick slash at the rhino's leg just as it passed him. Marcus dove to the side at the last moment. The rhino was moving so fast that it couldn't stop and finally crashed into the stone wall with such force that people in the upper stands were shaken a little. A cracking sound echoed from the rhino's horn, followed by a loud groan resembling thunder. Once the dust settled, you noticed that the rhino, his head covered with blood, had collapsed in a heap, and its rider had thrown himself to the ground.

"Get him!" Marcus ordered as Lucius and Octavius were expelled from the arena. Glyceo, a large and well-built fighter, gripped his sword and shield deftly, taking up a defensive position. Octavius charged at him while the others circled around.

"Damn it!" Elagabalus roared, but you felt a sense of relief that contrasted sharply with his anger.

The rhino charged at them like a wild storm, its thunderous footsteps shaking the ground beneath them. Dust exploded into the air, swirling around them and obscuring their vision. You held your breath, straining to catch a glimpse of Marcus through the thick cloud, the tension in the atmosphere palpable.

“Break!” he shouted, and everyone quickly threw themselves to the side. However, Glyceo quickly understood their intention, tugged on the rhino's ropes, and halted the massive creature, which let out a deep grunt. Turning back for the next assault, Marcus looked at his men and drove his sword into the sandy ground. “It can't attack us all at once,” he said as he bent down to scoop up some sand.

“I see what you’re trying to do; not bad, General,” Lucius said with a grin. He bent down to follow suit, and the others did the same to confuse the rhino. When the next charge came, just as Marcus or Lucius was rushing toward the creature when suddenly everyone threw sand into the air. Lucius managed to make a quick slash at the rhino's leg just as it passed him. Marcus dove to the side at the last moment. The rhino was moving so fast that it couldn't stop and finally crashed into the stone wall with such force that people in the upper stands were shaken a little. A cracking sound echoed from the rhino's horn, followed by a loud groan resembling thunder. Once the dust settled, you noticed that the rhino, his head covered with blood, had collapsed in a heap, and its rider had thrown himself to the ground.

"Get him!" Marcus ordered as Lucius and Octavius were expelled from the arena. Glyceo, a large and well-built fighter, gripped his sword and shield deftly, taking up a defensive position. Octavius charged at him while the others circled around.

"Damn it!" Elagabalus roared, but you felt a sense of relief that contrasted sharply with his anger.

Glyceo pulled back and threw his shield at Octavius, and it didn't take long for them to realize where he was heading. With a resounding clang, a massive iron gate swung open, and four heavily armored soldiers strode into the arena.

Elagabalus, ignoring the protests from the crowd, flashed a wicked grin at your stunned expression. “We wouldn’t want this to end too soon, do we?” he taunted.

In an instant, chaos erupted in the arena. The sharp sounds of clashing swords filled the air, and the relief you had felt moments earlier evaporated. Marcus picked Glyceo as his opponent, while the others engaged the other soldiers. Despite their skills, the soldiers quickly found themselves overmatched and were swiftly defeated. Only Felix sustained serious injuries in the fray.

As Marcus kicked and pushed Glyceo to the ground, the crowd began to roar, chanting, "Mercy! Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!"

Marcus looked at you, first at you, then at Elagabalus. His face, hair, and clothes were covered in sand, blood, and sweat as he panted.

Elagabalus turned his thumb down. "No mercy!" he shouted. "I want to see blood!"

The crowd booed and hurled insults at him. Marcus plunged his sword into the sandy ground as a sign of mercy, sparing his opponent's life.

Elagabalus was filled with rage as the crowd clapped their hands.

“Praetorians!” he roared, rising to his feet. Just then, two guards approached and swiftly handcuffed you to your seat before you could fully comprehend the situation. In shock, you turned to Elagabalus.

“Did you really think I didn’t know, dear? Varus told me everything.” His gaze shifted behind you, landing on Varus’s second-in-command. A wave of concern washed over you—was Darius in their custody?

At that moment, one of the iron gates swung open again. The praetorians marched into the arena in disciplined lines, surrounding Marcus and his men. The sound of their armor echoed throughout the arena. Marcus and others positioned themselves back to back, ready to face the guards, but their numbers were insufficient. Just as you thought it was time for Marcus to remove his galea, he did just that, hurling the helmet aside. The others followed suit, revealing their faces for all to see.

The crowd hushed in awe, eyes widening in recognition as whispers spread among them, fingers discreetly pointing in his direction.

"It's Acacius!"

"He's not dead, he's alive!"

"Acacius is alive!"

Marcus raised his arms to capture the crowd's attention. "Citizens of Rome!" he called out, his voice ringing with authority. "I, Marcus Justus Acacius, stand before you today to expose a grave betrayal! Emperor Elagabalus and Centurion Varus have conspired with the enemy, betraying our true Emperor Geta. They have committed treason against Rome, the Senate, myself, my loyal men, and against each and every one of you. I am arresting them in your presence so that they can receive the punishment they deserve." Marcus pointed at him, and Elagabalus swallowed.

There were murmurs and then roars as the crowd stared at him.

"Take him down!"

"Crucify him!"

"Death to the traitors!"

"We're with you, Acacius!"

"Kill him!”

Elagabalus was trembling with rage. "Damn you Acacius! Why won't he just die? Why? Why?"

"You will be the one to die! It's time to pay for what you've done! But death will not be enough for you!" you shouted at him, trying to get out of the handcuffs, but it was impossible. As you struggled, the thick iron squeezed your gold bracelets, hurting you.

"Acacius' bitch! Shut your damn mouth!" he shouted at you, then turned to the crowd. "Shut the hell up, all of you!"

The crowd continued to boo, with many throwing items they had brought into the arena at the praetorians. Varus's man tensed as the guards struggled to defend themselves with their shields.

"Your highness, for your safety, we must return to the palace."

You couldn't allow him to escape; he had to die here and now. However, you knew you couldn't move when your wrists were cuffed. You thought desperately about what to do.

"Kill his bitch first," he said, pointing at you. "Then the whole Senate! Slaughter them all!"

"That will only enrage them more," he protested. "We'll never get out of here alive!"

"Do it!" he roared wildly at his face.

Noticing everything in the distance, Marcus roared, “No!” as he shoved the praetorian in front of him. You trembled with fear, but if this was your last moment, you chose to look at him with your head held high.  "Even if you run, Acacius will find you and kill you!"

"He's the one who dies today!" he shouted back at you.

You turned your head to look at Marcus, who was trying to make his way to the steps under the tribune to come to your rescue. However, the praetorians were blocking his path. As you locked eyes with him, you heard the sound of a sword being drawn just behind you. You held your breath, feeling the sharp metal's presence close to your neck.

Suddenly, an arrow from nowhere struck Varus' man in the throat, and as he staggered backward, he dropped the sword in his hand and collapsed to the ground. As he exhaled his last breath with a grunt, the blood gushing from his throat soaked his armor.

You turned your head to see who had shot him and were startled to see an unexpected face.

"You! What the hell have you done?" Elagabalus asked in frustration.

The commander, one of the legion leaders from last night's meeting, solemnly handed his bow to a nearby soldier. Addressing Elagabalus, he ordered, "Arrest this traitor at once!"

Then he turned his attention to you. Approaching you with a respectful bow, he asked, "My lady, are you well?"

"I am Quintus, my lady, commander of the Legion Iulia Alpina," he declared, leaning forward. "And a friend of Acacius," he added with a low, friendly tone and a smile. He then turned to the Praetorians. "Uncuff the princess at once!"

As they were removing your handcuffs, the largest gate of the Colosseum swung open, allowing Quintus' soldiers to enter the arena. They surrounded the Praetorians and outnumbered them significantly. Across the distance, Marcus and Quintus exchanged glances. Marcus commanded the Praetorians to lay down their arms and surrender, and they complied, as did Varus' men.

Once you were freed, you stood up, rubbing your wrists. Elagabalus shouted as soldiers arrested him, but you ignored the commotion and walked to the edge of the tribune, placing your hands on the balustrade. You smiled at Marcus, and he smiled back, visibly relieved.

It seemed like it was finally over. However, it wasn't enough; the traitors still needed to be punished next.

"Where are you taking Elagabalus now?" you asked Quintus.

"To the Roman Forum-"

"No. Take him to the arena," you said sternly. "He will be executed in front of all the people of Rome. I want Varus and all his supporters there as well. Every breath they take desecrates my brother Geta's memory." Your voice was louder than you intended.

Quintus was taken aback but nodded respectfully. "As you wish, Your Highness.”

Before you begin, walk behind Quintus and his men, saw that Praetorian Guards approached you. You noticed a shift in their demeanor. No longer there to restrain you, they now stood beside you, offering protection and support. It was surprising, especially since they had just handcuffed you moments earlier. The obedience reflected in their expressions filled you with a sense of strength.

As you made your way forward, the consuls saluted you, and the crowd erupted in chants of your name. Their cheers grew increasingly deafening as you stepped into the arena, leaving you flattered and humbled by the attention.

You approached Marcus as the soldiers dragged Elagabalus to the center of the arena. Marcus rushed toward you, his eyes scanning you from head to toe with concern. "My lady, are you alright?"

You nodded, smiling. "You fought well, all of you," you said, looking at them. "You have won and saved Rome from a traitor," you added, directing your gaze at Elagabalus.

He was looking at Marcus as he struggled to be free. "Acacius! You stubborn bastard! Why didn’t you obey me when I first sent you a message? If you had, we could have joined forces and made Rome great!"

Marcus squinted at him. "Rome will already be great when you die!"

He continued to shout as the soldiers took him away with Marcus' gesture. "No! Don't do it! I am your emperor! You must obey me!"

"Stop," you said firmly, raising your hand to stop them.

You stepped forward and removed the crown from Elagabalus' head. "You are no emperor, you are a traitor. This crown never belonged to you. It rightfully belongs to my brother Geta, the true Emperor of Rome - the one who spared your life. That you betrayed him and had him killed."

"Yes, I killed him! Because the throne is rightfully mine! Mine!"

You looked at him in disgust and gestured for soldiers to take him away.

"You want him to be executed here?" Marcus asked.

"Why not?"

"He was crowned by decree of the Senate. Not taking him to the Roman Forum may cause some controversy."

"Isn't the entire Senate present already? And all the people of Rome are here too. The execution shall take place here once the soldiers have finished their necessary preparations."

Marcus smiled, pride evident in his expression. “As you say, my princess.”

A warm blush crept across your cheeks, and you struggled to regain your composure. As you and Lucius exchanged glances, you noticed Quintus strode toward you.

“Acacius.” He greeted him.

“Quintus, I’m deeply grateful for your help. But I can’t see Darius?"

His expression grew serious. “Varus's second-in-command was fully aware of the situation. When you entered the Colosseum, he pursued Darius and attempted to take Varus away. Thankfully, my men and I arrived just in time to stop them. However, Darius is wounded and in critical condition.”

"Varus?"

He cast you a furtive glance before turning back to him with a reassuring expression. "My men will bring him here soon."

And so it happened; before long, his soldiers entered the Colosseum with Varus and all of his supporters. Almost everyone had left the streets, as the entire population of Rome—elderly citizens, children, and even foreigners—had gathered at the Colosseum.

Varus, Elagabalus and the other traitors were all crucified and ready to be burned, and the crowd cheered when Marcus gestured for them to set the traitors on fire. Smoke rose from the center of the massive structure until sunset, proving that the traitors had received their just punishment.

——

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the streets of Rome thrummed with life, a stark contrast to the somber days that had preceded them. The air, once thick with the oppressive weight of tyranny, was now charged with a mix of relief and anxiety. Citizens moved about, their faces etched with uncertainty as they pondered the future. Although the traitors had met their due punishment and the shadows of betrayal had finally dispersed, a lingering question echoed in the minds of many: Was Rome truly free? And if so, what lay ahead?

On the streets, these questions were circulating. Everyone was discussing the events that had unfolded in the Colosseum, speculating about what might come next.

However, for you, there was only one thing that mattered at the moment: reuniting with your children. You had Publius moved from the Domus Tiberiana to Palatine Hill at your side so your children next. You were present at Domus Severiana when the consuls came to discuss important matters. The reading of Geta's will had not yet occurred because Elagabalus opposed it. As a result, the Council decided to hold an emergency meeting tomorrow morning. To them: It was unthinkable for Rome to be without a leader, especially with the threat of Carthage looming nearby. So, tomorrow's council meeting presents an important opportunity to reveal Geta’s will. They will discuss its implications and determine the necessary next steps, believing that your involvement is vital.

You wanted to think about everything tomorrow; tonight, none of it seemed to matter. It had been a while since Cato and Aris set out to bring the children and the others to Palatine Hill, and you were still talking to Antonia as you anxiously waited for their return in the courtyard. Marcus had gone with Quintus and Lucius to check on Darius' condition.

Soon, you heard a noise outside the big gate, and your heart began to race. You hurried toward the entrance. Moments later, Cato and Aris entered the courtyard, followed by Norell and Decima, both carrying your children. A big smile spread across your face as you ran towards Marcius.

“Marcius!” Your voice echoed throughout the courtyard.

Marcius, in Decima's arms, clapped his hands when he saw you. Overcome with emotion, you sobbed as you took him into your arms and held him tightly to your chest. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t care; all you wanted was to hold him close. "Oh, my beautiful son, my love, my breath, my everything. I’ve missed you so much." You buried your nose in his curly brown hair and kissed him repeatedly, inhaling his sweet scent. Everyone around you seemed moved and happy to witness this reunion.

“Let me look at you,” you said, leaning your head back slightly to study his face. He was so beautiful—he was yours, your beloved son. You kissed him again, and your gaze shifted to Decima and her belly. “Decima,” you muttered. You had so much to say, but the emotions overwhelmed you, and the words got stuck in your throat. Decima smiled at you, tears in her eyes then her gaze shifted to her husband Octavius. He came to hug her and then you turned your attention to your little girl. When your aunt reached out her hands to take Marcius, you kissed him one last time before handing him over. You looked at Norell and smiled; he bowed his head. “My lady,” she said, and she carefully handed your daughter to you. As you held her, you noticed that she was asleep.

Your baby girl was breathtakingly beautiful, with rosy cheeks and pearly white, cotton-like skin. You leaned over and kissed her; the fragrance was intoxicating and so perfect that it was impossible to describe in words. You held her in one arm while embracing Norell with the other. Then there was Decima and Tullia.

"How are you feeling, my lady?" someone asked.

"You're all here; I'm fine now," you replied, wiping away your tears.

"Marcius, my son!"

You turned to the voice of Marcus, who was as happy as you were. He took Marcius from your aunt and held him in his arms. You were back in Norell.

"Can you hold my daughter for a moment?"

Marcius had a wound just above his chest. You lifted his dress to examine the bandage. He started to cry when you tried to remove the bandage. "Marcus, we need to check his wound. Where is Lucius?"

"He stayed with Darius. I'll take him to the room, and you can check his wound there," he said, wrapping his other arm around you.

“Sir, my lady,” Tullia approached you, looking a bit uneasy. "If you permit us, we shall return to the villa."

Marcus hesitated but nodded. You touched his shoulder and glanced at Tullia.

"Please stay the night. We can all return together tomorrow."

Tullia looked at Marcus.

"Aurelia is right; stay here tonight."

“Yes, as you wish, sir,” Tullia replied, her voice a soft whisper as she bowed her head respectfully. Then, casting a shy glance in your direction, she added, “Domina, um, your highness.”

“Don’t worry about formalities, Tullia. You may call me whatever makes you comfortable,” you responded with a warm smile. "They'll show you to your quarters."

As you spoke, you gestured to the other slaves, who nodded and showed the way to the girls' quarters while you made your way to your chambers.

——

You were examining Marcius' wound and preparing the ointment, noting that it looked much better. It was fortunate that the arrow did not pierce his lung. A shiver coursed through you as the haunting memory rushed back—raw, overwhelming turmoil filled with desperation and fear. It was a moment that would forever be etched into your soul, leaving a scar on your heart much like the one marking Marcius' chest. While you were applying the ointment over your son’s wound, a warm glow filled the dimly lit room from the flickering oil lamps, casting soft shadows on the walls. In the midst of this gentle light, Marcus cradled his little girl, swaying her tenderly, calling her melimelum (honey-apple), and you were watching them with a smile; however, you realized something. You approached Marcus, longing to take her in your arms to nurse her.

"I love it when you refer to her that way. However, I think it's time we choose a name for her, don’t you think?"

Marcus met your gaze with a wide smile. "I've been thinking about it for a while."

You stretched out your arms to him, and he carefully handed her to you. "You were thinking about names?" you asked as you settled into the chair.

"Flora," he murmured, his voice soft like the whisper of a spring breeze.

You paused, taking in the delicate features of your little girl's face, she was a beautiful blossom herself. "Flora... I really like that name. It flows so nicely with her other names; it's simple and sweet, she truly is our little flower, isn’t she?" You pressed your nose gently against hers and kissed her softly. You then bared your breast, tickled Flora's cheek with your nipple, and gasped and smiled when she latched on and began to suckle.

“She certainly is,” Marcus said, then he leaned closer, his gaze piercing and intense as it locked onto yours. “She has her mother’s beauty and grace, every bit of it.” With that, he tilted his head slightly and pressed his lips to yours.

You smiled, rubbing his arm, noticing there were still traces of blood on it. “Are you hurt?”

He looked down at his own arm. “No, it’s not my blood. I didn’t have time for a bath; I still have the dust and dirt from the Colosseum on me. Apologies.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Don’t say that, you're a hero.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Marcus got up and walked over to see Cato standing there. He stepped outside, closing the door quietly behind him. You could hear their voices drifting through the door, but it was all jumbled mumbling, nothing you could quite catch. A moment later, Cato left, and Marcus came back in.

"What did Cato say, is everything alright?" you asked.

Marcus was wearing his cloak over his tunic as he responded. “He said he and the others are heading to the baths and asked if I wanted to join them,” he replied, deftly tying the laces.

“You’re going with them?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, a mix of confusion and disappointment tugging at your heart. He approached you, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“You should go to sleep, my love. You don’t need to wait for my return,” he said, oblivious to the expression on your face.

You watched him as he turned to leave, unable to move since your little girl was nestled peacefully against you, drooling and lost in a milk coma.

Yes, Marcus needed a bath; today had been particularly grueling for him. Yet, a flicker of longing ignited within you. Shouldn’t he have shared that moment with you in the balneum?

It had been ages since you’d had a bath together, and you couldn’t even remember the last time.

No, you couldn’t let him leave.

Marcus’s bathing companion tonight should have been his wife—you.

You gently tucked Flora into bed beside Marcius. The dim light glowed softly over their peaceful faces, and you smiled as you watched them sleep. Quietly, you slipped out of the room, your mind racing with thoughts. Norell and Decima remained in your chambers, staying with the children. You descended the stairs and summoned the servants to prepare the balneum.

“I hope I’m not late,” you whispered to yourself as you made your way to the courtyard, your heart quickening. To your relief, you found Marcus and Octavius deep in conversation.

For a moment, you considered turning back, feeling that it would be a silly thing to do. Just then, you realized that Cato and the others were approaching you from behind. When they noticed you, they nodded, “My lady.”

You turned to them and smiled hesitantly and continued walking, heading back to your chambers. However, Marcus had recognized you and walked toward you. You decided to keep moving, but when you turned the corner a little later, he quickened his pace to catch up with you and grabbed your arm.

“Aurelia,” he said, his tone questioning. “I thought you were going to sleep?”

You crossed your arms, thinking a bit of attitude wouldn’t hurt. “I don’t remember saying I was going to sleep.”

His expression turned puzzled as he frowned, clearly trying to figure out what to say. “You sound angry, but I don’t understand why,” he murmured.

At that moment, a slave approached with a respectful demeanor, her hands clasped in front of her. “My lady, we have prepared your bath as ordered.”

“Thank you, you may leave now,” you said, glancing quickly at the slave. She bowed her head and retreated, her footsteps echoing behind her. Marcus kept his gaze fixed on you, remaining silent until the slave was completely out of sight, ensuring privacy.

His bewildered expression was both captivating and delightful, taking your breath away and eliciting a soft giggle from your lips. There was something undeniably alluring about it that sent a rush of heat through you. With playful confidence, you approached him, your fingers gently resting on his shoulders as you teasingly toyed with the strings of his cloak. “Don’t keep your men waiting any longer,” you said with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I’ll be in the balneum to bathe, alone,” With that, you turned, allowing a teasing smile to dance on your lips as you stepped away.

But it took mere moments for him to respond, just as you had predicted. He swiftly grabbed your arm, pulling you firmly against him, your back pressing against the solid warmth of his muscular chest. “I take it you had the bath prepared for the two of us?” His voice was deep and smooth, sending shivers down your spine as his hot breath brushed your ear.

“You’re mistaken, General. I had it done solely for myself,” you replied, the corners of your mouth twitching with suppressed laughter. “But now I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll just go to sleep. I don’t feel so dirty after all."

In an instant, he wrapped an arm around your waist, and a gasp escaped your lips as you felt his lips nuzzle against your neck. “I can certainly change that fact, you know.” He slowly slid his hand purposefully down your neck to your breasts, you bit your lower lip as you felt his fingers brush against your nipples. Under his warm touch, your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths.

"H-how are you going to do it?" you asked breathlessly. Now that his fingers were where you wanted him most, a soft moan escaped from your lips. He grinned, loving the way his touch made you squirm. Suddenly, he stepped in front of you, his brown eyes burning like fire, sending heat into your core that you longed to burn with.

"You'll see," he said as he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground as it slipped beneath your feet. You were taken by surprise and couldn't help but giggle. "Marcus, what are you doing? Put me down!" You shook your legs and pretended to struggle, attempting to get free, but he only hugged you tighter. "Don't struggle! You asked for it, princess. You can’t escape now," he laughed.

“Sir-”

Your cheeks flushed at the sound of Cato's voice. You tried to climb down, but it was impossible to break free from his strong grip. Marcus turned to Cato, still holding you in his arms,  and you buried your face in his shoulder in embarrassment. “I’m afraid I can’t join you. I’ve decided to take a bath here.”

Cato looked away and bowed his head. "As you wish, sir," he said, turning on his heel to hurry back the way he had come, almost bumping into others as he rounded the corner.

“Is he not coming?” Octavius asked with a serious expression.

“Is he all right?” Aris inquired.

Before Cato could respond, your laughter echoed throughout the courtyard. They exchanged sheepish glances, realizing the situation. Octavius cleared his throat. “Don't dawdle. Let’s leave at once.”

They all chuckled as they left the courtyard together.

----

The Balneum was enveloped in a rich tapestry of jasmine, the delicate scent wafting through the air like a whisper of spring. Wisps of steam curled upwards from the soothing hot water, creating a warm, ethereal haze that danced in the soft glow of the surroundings.

"Shall I undress you?" you asked with your petite voice, reaching out to untie the laces of Marcus' cloak.

But he caught your hands before you could touch him. "No," he said. “I want to do something else first.” Then he sank to his knees, lifting the hem of your dress, and placed a gentle kiss on your leg, then your thigh. You gasped and shuddered. He lifted your dress up to your belly, and you helped by gathering the fabric and holding still. He slid his hands to your bottom, caressing you, and then cupping your cheeks. Nudging your legs apart, he began to trail soft kisses over your navel, then your thighs, moving closer and closer to the cleft between your legs.

Placing a kiss at the peak of your nether curls, he began to run his tongue along the outer lips, then back up the inner, tasting your soft, warm flesh. Breathing heavily, you only moaned, and your hands found his shoulders, clutching him tightly, desperately. Feeling the raw fabric of the cloak inside your palms. He continued to be gentle, touching you lightly with his tongue and lips, sucking on the slowly swelling flesh, lapping at the oozing moisture. Finally, he rolled his tongue up and circled your clit. You struggled to stand; your legs trembled, he lifted your right leg onto his shoulder. Then he continued to taste you, hearing your sigh of pleasure, he sucked hungrily, always hungrily. Your fingers now tangling his hair, and you swayed against his hands.

“Marcus, please," you begged, your pelvis grinding against his mouth.

He hummed in response as his mouth remained clamped to your cunt, you tightened your grip on his hair, yanking violently. Not wanting to torture you more, he licked your clit with fast strokes as your moans grew louder. Suddenly, you stilled then exploded in pleasure, moaning and whimpering as your juices flowed over his mouth and chin. Grinning triumphantly, rising to his feet, Marcus scooped you into his arms before you could collapse. You were lying limp, breathing hard from your orgasm. You felt as though you were floating on clouds in Marcus' arms as he carried you to the giant marble tub. You then realized, when the hot water touched your skin, that your clothes were still on.

Marcus removed his clothes before getting in and then came over and undressed you, too. He tossed your damp and dirty clothes away and settled into the tub. He waded in, leaned his back against the edge, threw his head back, closed his eyes, and sighed deeply. You reached up to the back of your head to remove the hairpins before stepping into the tub to join him. Marcus opened his eyes and looked amused as he watched you struggle with your hairpins. He could watch your naked form forever, as bare as the day you were born; it would never be enough for him. In this dimly lit bathhouse, the ripples in the water create brilliant reflections on your silky skin. Marcus found himself marveling once again at your beauty. How could you be so captivating? And how could he be so fortunate that you were all his? With your breathtaking figure knee-deep in the water, you appeared to be a goddess, not a mortal—a goddess cursing her hairpins.

You turned your head at his snickering sound. “Having fun, I see?” you said, frowning with your lips twisted in playful annoyance.

He gestured for you to come closer. “Come here. I’ll take it off for you.”

You obeyed and approached him, getting in and turning your back when the water reached your waist. Although Marcus’s strong fingers were adept at wielding swords and handling heavy weapons, they were surprisingly gentle and soft each time they touched your hair and skin. You often found yourself feeling a mix of surprise and delight at his touch. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as he delicately handled your hair, like it was a fragile, precious jewel, with his breath warm against you. After carefully removing the two small hairpins that you had struggled to take out, he set them aside on the marble surface. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his nose in your hair, breathing heavily as he inhaled your scent and you allowed yourself to sink into his embrace. Remaining still, your eyes closed, the soothing sound of water reverberates off the damp stone walls, creating a serene symphony in the air. The warm, refreshing mist brushes against your skin while the enchanting aroma of jasmine flowers drifts lazily across the surface.

It was then that Marcus's deep, velvety voice broke the silence: “Fore suum crinem tuum Venus ipsa cuperet, si videret; et doloret suum quod exuperet. (For Venus herself would desire your hair if she saw it, and she would grieve for hers that she should be wanting it.)”

You smiled and turned your head towards him sideways, allowing his nose to touch your cheek. He continued reciting his poem: “Frons et gula sine ruga et visus angelicus te caelestem, non terrestrem, denotant hominibus. (Your forehead and throat without wrinkles and your angelic sight denote to men that you are heavenly, not earthly.)”

He placed one hand under your chin and kissed your forehead, followed by your cheeks and neck. Eagerly, you leaned down to kiss his lips, but he pressed his finger gently against yours, causing you to raise your eyebrows in surprise. He simply smiled in response. “Tibi dentes sunt candentes, pulchre sedent labia, quae si quando ore tango mellea dant suavia. (Your teeth are white, your lips are beautifully set, which, if ever, touch my mouth, they give sweet honey.)”

“Marcus…” you murmured coyly, brushing your nose against his. A stinging sensation filled your eyes, and then a single tear trickled down your cheek. How could you explain this jumble of feelings inside you? How could you make him understand? And before you found the words, he bent down and brushed his lips lightly over yours. That simple touch made the heat inside you explode. With a whimper, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against him as his mouth claimed yours in a melting kiss. In the midst of such an intimate moment, you felt an overpowering, all-consuming adoration for the man before you. Sensation overwhelmed you: the sweet rasp of his damp chest against your nipples, the thrust of his tongue deep in your mouth, the caress of his hands as they moved over your hot skin. And then, with only your need for him to guide you, you bent over him and kissed him. But suddenly you wanted to taste more of him, just as he had tasted you earlier. You traced kisses across his bearded jaw, down his throat, across the crest of his Adam's apple to his chest, softly licking all the way.

“Aurelia,” His voice trembled, his body jerked, his grip tightened around your hair, and he groaned, a sound of pure male need. You knew where the heat of his need resided, knew which part of him burned hottest. You lifted your lips from his skin and gazed at the rigid length of his shaft. You reached out with one hand, fondled his stones, cupped them, felt the sac that held them draw tight. Then you ran your fingers tentatively over the swollen head of his shaft, stroking slowly. Breath hissed from his clenched teeth, and you looked up to find him watching you through eyes that had turned darker than ever. You closed your hand around him, sliding your hand down his pulsing length, amused by the feel of him.

He was steel in silk, both hard and soft.

“Good gods, woman!” He growled angrily, grabbing your wrists. And you stopped, left him hanging on the edge, hard and aching.

"Must you be... inside me?” You asked teasingly, fluttering your eyelashes.

Inside you.

That was where he wanted to be, where he needed to be. He wanted to plunge inside you, to feel your inner muscles clench around him as his thrusts brought you both release. His mind was consumed by one single thought, and it overshadowed everything else.

“Yes,” He growled again. He pulled his knees up behind you, trapping you in his lap and pressing you closer to him. His hands ran down your thighs to your hips where they gripped you firmly, making you laugh shamelessly.

Your giggle got cut off by a startled moan caused by his cock suddenly and consistently rubbing against your clit. Your hips kept making small jumps whenever he moved in a particularly possessive way, and your hips thrust up against you whenever you clenched down specifically tightly. He couldn’t bear any gentleness anymore. Aggressively, he pulled you tightly against him and pressed his hips almost painfully up against yours lodging himself so deeply inside of you that your breath caught in your throat. The water in the tub violently splashed over the edge, then onto the floor. Then he began thrusting into you, deep and hard, his shaft driving against some sweet spot inside you, and you were drawing frantic cries from your throat. He quickened his pace and you screamed his name over and over, digging your fingers into his flesh. His lips were on your mouth, your eyelids, your cheeks, your throat. Noting you were getting close to the edge, he buried his nose between your breasts, increasing your pleasure; you closed your eyes tightly. His voice was a ragged whisper. “Come for me, my love.”

Your body quivered at his arousing words and ravenous need. Precious torment, sweet surrender, shattering bliss.

“Marcus!” you cried out as the force of it hit you, drew the life from your body, and gave it back again, pleasure showering you like tears, like rain.

“Mea Dea, (My Goddess),” He purred, his body shuddered, and you heard his deep groan as he, too, succumbed and spilled himself inside you.

Then, in the stillness, he kissed you once more, your foreheads pressing together as your breaths intertwined, creating an intimate rhythm that seemed to pause time itself.

——

That morning, Rome awoke to a day unlike any other in its long and storied history. The streets of the Roman Forum buzzed with excitement, as the news of the Council meeting spread through the city like wildfire. Citizens thronged the cobbled pathways, their faces a mixture of excitement and trepidation, fully aware that the answers they sought would be revealed in just a few hours. As the dawn broke, the crowd began to swell, eager for the moment to arrive.

After preparing for the day, you gave your children a kiss, feeling their warmth one last time before leaving. You entrusted them to the girls and made your way to the sunlit courtyard, where you found Marcus waiting with a commanding presence, resembling the god of war, Mars himself. A deep sigh escaped your lips as he came into view. He stood tall and striking in his meticulously crafted black leather armor, each plate polished to a dazzling shine that caught the warm rays of the morning sun. The armor fitted snugly over his muscular frame, accentuating his broad shoulders and emanating an air of formidable strength. Draped elegantly across his shoulders was a rich crimson shawl; its vibrant color created a striking contrast against the dark leather, enhanced by golden details. This combination not only enhanced his striking appearance but also added an undeniable air of majesty and dignity, making him look like a noble warrior poised to face any challenge that lay ahead. One hand was resting on the hilt of his sword, and the other was at his side, ready to clasp yours.

It had been a long time since you had seen him like this; you had almost forgotten how marvelous he looked in his uniform. As you walked toward him, everyone around you blurred, and it felt just like on your wedding day. A smile appeared on your lips as you recalled that day, and Marcus’ lips curved upwards as he noticed your smile. He held out his arm to you.

"My lady, are you ready to leave?"

You took his arm. "I am, general."

When you arrived at the Roman Forum, a huge crowd awaited you. With Marcus' help, you exited the carriage and waved to the crowd. They shouted both his name and yours, and one person reached out from behind the guards, holding flowers. You ordered the guards to step back and accepted the flowers from her. Marcus was cautious, keeping a watchful eye, but he felt relieved when nothing happened, as he had anticipated. He wrapped his arm around your waist as you climbed the stairs. When you looked at his face, you noticed he wasn’t angry; it was just his usual defensive demeanor—his unique way of being around you.

Inside the great hall of the Curia Julia, the noise was just as overwhelming. Marcus stayed by your side until you settled into the gold-plated armchair that had belonged to Geta. The chaos had begun even before the session started, and you found it disrespectful that some people didn’t seem to realize you had arrived. Fortunately -in the absence of the emperor- the oldest member of the council was brought to the center by an aide, and he managed to silence everyone. Before the session officially began, the issue at hand—the presence of women in the council chamber—was addressed, and all women except for you were politely escorted out. As your aunt left the hall, she smiled at you, and you returned her smile. While the majority appreciated your presence, a minority did not seem pleased, but you remained indifferent to their discontent.

"Esteemed consuls, distinguished members of the Senate, Your Highness, and General Acacius," the most senior councillor commenced the session with individual greetings for each attendee. "As we convene today, it is imperative to acknowledge that Rome has successfully purged itself of traitors and restored its freedom. I encourage all assembled to collaborate during this critical meeting to determine our strategic course of action moving forward. It is my sincere hope that our deliberations will culminate in decisions that best serve the future of Rome. “Therefore, with your consent, I now invite the chief clerk to unveil and read the will of our late emperor, Publius Septimius Geta.”

As murmurs filled the room, the chief scribe stepped forward with a roll of papyrus sealed with a red wax seal. Marcus moved closer to you, and you held his hand tightly. The will began with respectful words, and everyone appeared tense as they listened.

“…In consideration of the well-being and security of my esteemed sister, Aurelia, along with her children, I bequeath the sum of 70 denarii to every enrolled citizen, 70 denarii to each Roman soldier, and 70 denarii to the Praetorian guards. My name, along with the remainder of my estate, all legal obligations and benefits, all property, gold, silver, and other assets, I leave to Publius, whom I regard, for all intents and purposes, as my only son and heir. I appoint my nephew Marcius as the rightful heir to the throne, with the same rights passing to him in the event of the death of Publius.”

You exchanged a glance with Marcus as murmurs continued to rise within the council. The clerk waited for silence before proceeding.

“…Considering that my son and heir, Publius, is too young, I delegate the powers to govern Rome to the great Roman Senate and to my sister Aurelia until he reaches the appropriate age to take my name and ascend to the throne.”

You were taken aback by what you had just heard. As objections and discussions intensified among the council members, the clerk proceeded to read the will aloud. “This is my will, and any individual who fails to comply with it shall be charged with treason! Emperor Caesar Publius Septimius Geta Augustus!”

“Geta,” you murmured. Marcus placed his hand on your shoulder and smiled as you met his gaze. “Geta displayed an impressive blend of wisdom, generosity, and a spirit of reform.”

As tensions mounted, the formerly subdued murmurs transformed into a chaotic uproar, resulting in an interruption of the session.

In the meantime, as you stepped outside onto the stairs, your aunt Antonia, along with Paullina and her husband, approached you. Marcus had already left to meet with a few members of the Senate, leaving your side.

"I would never have guessed that Geta would do such a thing," Antonia said with a smile. She gave the other women watching you from a distance a look as if to show off.

"Yes, I'm surprised too," you murmured.

Antonia's expression shifted slightly as she continued, "But it's difficult for the council to accept this. Granting a woman, even a princess, the authority to rule will be met with skepticism. Forgive me for saying so, but that’s just how it is."

You sighed, "You’re right. But what should I do? Should I refuse?"

"No, Aurelia. This is a direct order from a deified emperor. They must comply or risk being branded traitors. They have no choice but to accept it. The praetorians will protect you and your family, and who would dare oppose you with your husband, General Acacius, by your side?"

At that moment, Paullina’s husband spoke up, "I was going to discuss something with you regarding the General."

Confused, you asked, "What do you mean?"

He replied, "The General's death will be annulled since he is alive, but unfortunately, we cannot reverse the legal dissolution of your marriage."

You stared at him in disbelief. "You mean...?"

"By Roman law, both of you are considered widows now. You may need to remarry."

The shock of his words left you momentarily speechless. "Remarry?"

“My lady!” Marcus approached you, nodding them all. “The session is about to begin. Shall we return?”

You nodded and took his arm. While you were heading to the hall together, a cloud of anxiety hung over you, and he noticed the furrow in your brow. “Don’t worry; they have no choice but to accept the verdict.”

You shook your head. “No, Marcus, that’s not what troubles me.”

“Then what is it?”

You paused, looking into his eyes. “They say we’re both widows under the law. Our marriage was annulled, and the only way to reclaim it would be to remarry.”

Marcus considered your words, a flicker of realization crossing his face, followed by a playful grin. “Is that what have you so concerned?” He brought your hand gently to his lips, planting a soft kiss upon it. “We’ll remarry then.”

You chuckled. “Hmm, so that’s a proposal, then?”

Leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear, he whispered, “If it’s a proposal you seek, prepare yourself for one tonight that you won’t be able to refuse, my princess.”

Upon entering the great hall, you exchanged smiles with Marcus, but as you took your place, your expressions shifted to a more solemn demeanor. The room fell silent, and all present turned to face you, bowing deeply before settling into their seats.

As the murmurs of subdued discussions diminished and the session reconvened, the focus shifted to the critical issue of Rome's security, interspersed with a series of whispered anxieties. The most esteemed consuls rose to address the assembly, their gaze firmly directed at you, exuding an air of authority and solemnity.

"Lady Aurelia," one of the consuls declared with a firm tone, "it is my distinct privilege to convey that we, as a unified council, will honor the will of the late Emperor Geta."

You nodded in acknowledgment. "I am truly grateful for this decision, sir."

Yet the councilor pressed on, his demeanor laden with gravity. "However, we must acknowledge the serious consequences that this resolution will invoke beyond the vast borders of Rome. While that may not be our primary concern right now, there is a crucial issue on which we all agree. With a strong consensus among the consuls and the Senate, we are united in our belief that Rome desperately needs a leader—someone to guide us. The threat of the Carthaginian navy, orchestrated by the treacherous Elagabalus, still looms ominously over our waters. Therefore, a significant decision has emerged from a majority vote, and it is now pending your approval."

Your eyebrows lifted in keen curiosity. "What precisely is the council's decision?"

The councilor leaned in closer, an air of urgency enveloping his words as he lowered his voice to a whisper yet remained unwavering. "The council is resolute in its belief that we must appoint an existing leader—specifically, the emperor—to serve as his deputy until Publius, the rightful heir, matures enough to assume his place on the throne. We cannot allow the Roman throne to remain vacant, and whoever rises to it must be someone who has proven extraordinary leadership and possesses the strength to shoulder such an immense burden.”

The consul stepped towards Marcus, he slowly untied his crossed arms, standing tall, a blend of confusion and determination radiating from his posture.

“Legionary commander General Acacius,” the consul began, his voice echoing through the grand chamber like a clarion call, “Given Prince Publius's youth and insufficient maturity to adequately assume the formidable responsibilities of the emperor, the Senate has resolved to exercise its full authority to elect you as the protector of Rome. Will you accept this esteemed honor conferred upon you by the very heart of our empire?”

Marcus stood frozen, like a statue caught in disbelief. Your heart raced in response to the gravity of the moment. Reaching for his hand, you intertwined your fingers with his, offering him support.

“I am truly honored,” he finally said, his voice steady yet humble, “However, I am neither a politician nor a consul. I am merely a soldier.”

One of the members of the senate rose to his feet “You have secured countless victories for Rome, General! You have triumphed over many foes! You are far from just an ordinary soldier.”

A deep, commanding voice resonated next, filling the chamber with an undeniable weight. “The people already view you as the very savior of Rome. Picture the terror that will envelop our enemies when they learn that you have taken the reins of command over our empire.”

Then another voice chimed in, rich and impassioned. “Rome cries out for you, General! Our legions cast their hopeful gazes toward you for guidance. Grasp the throne with the same unwavering courage you’ve demonstrated on the battlefield and save us once more! I beseech you, on behalf of every citizen of Rome!”

As the fervent words resonated throughout the grand hall, a resounding chorus of support rose in unison, each voice echoing a shared conviction. Objections were few and far between; a palpable sense of unity enveloped the room, marking the dawn of a new era.

You stood up and first looked at Marcus' uncertain expression then the Council members. "I wish to convey my approval of the Council's decision. It is clear that Rome requires a decisive leader. I endorse the appointment of General Acacius as the ruler of Rome." The Council members regarded him with keen interest. Despite his initial hesitation, his demeanor began to soften. "General Acacius, Rome stands in need of your leadership. I strongly urge you to accept the Council's decision. Should you be unwilling, I must invoke my authority as the daughter of Septimius Severus, with the mandate bestowed upon me by my brother, Geta. Seize the throne and assert your command over your armies and all of Rome."

Silence enveloped the room as everyone awaited Marcus' response, their curiosity palpable. He met your gaze, and it was evident that he had accepted his fate. His expression shifted, and he nodded solemnly, placing his hand over his heart and bowing his head. "I would be honored, Your Highness. I accept this great authority bestowed upon me with all my heart."

A wave of applause erupted around the gathering. Though some harbored doubts about a soldier ascending to the throne, for the moment, unity prevailed as everyone rallied for a common purpose. The guards approached, bearing Geta's laurel crown, and you stepped forward to place it upon Marcus' head. As the crown settled, Marcus leaned closer, his eyes searching yours. There was much he wished to convey, but now was not the time.

"It suits you very well. Hail, Caesar," you whispered, your voice soft yet filled with conviction. A smile broke across his face in response.

The crowd erupted in unison, voices rising in fervor: "Hail Caesar! Long live Acacius!"

---

Notes:

I think I changed the history :) I researched a little Roman history and learned that Julius Ceaser was also elected and crowned by the consuls as a soldier and I thought, why not Marcus too, right?
I hope you are happy with the progress of the story, and I hope the long chapters don't bore you, your comments are very valuable to me thank you for all your support and kudos, I love you and see you in the next chapter :)

Chapter 28: Thirst

Amare est urere, incendere.

To love is to burn, to be on fire.

 

On a delightful spring morning, the sun bathed the streets of Rome in a warm golden glow, creating a lively atmosphere filled with excitement and joy. The air was fragrant with blossoming flowers, and the melodic sounds of laughter and chatter filled the piazzas as citizens gathered to witness a momentous occasion. Today marked the wedding of their newly crowned emperor, a celebration that promised to be extraordinary. This was no ordinary celebration; the emperor's previous marriage had been dissolved by law, stirring a mix of gossip and intrigue among the people. Now, with hearts racing and eyes wide with expectation, they awaited the moment when he would take his beloved wife’s hand once more, reuniting their fates in a ceremony that would be etched in the annals of history.

Just the thing for fresh gossip, you were thinking with some distress. Perhaps it would be talked about for years, even unforgettable. Even before Marcus' probable death was finalised, your former marriage was declared void before the law, which was one of the first powers Elagabalus used as emperor to force you to marry Varus without waiting for the statute of limitations. Fortunately, the traitors got what they deserved, and Elagabalus was lost to history along with the other tyran emperors. The law, however, was strict and could not be reversed. In one session the council debated at length the marriage of their new emperor. Even the high priest was consulted, and everyone came to a unanimous decision: the marriage was no longer valid, the contract was broken, and both parties were officially widowed. And remarriage is necessary, the council was pleased, because it would prove to other empires and monarchies how disciplined and organised Roman law was. As emperor, Marcus chose not to use his title of Princeps Senatus to pressure the Senate, nor did he appeal against its decision, as he did not wish to oppose the concept of remarriage.

In fact, he seemed to embrace it.

“It is truly a blessing to have the privilege of marrying you not just once, but twice in this life. And knowing that in the lives to come, I’ll find you once again to marry you endlessly, how could I ever feel anything but joy about this?” he said making your heart flutter in your chest.

For a woman to marry the man she loved twice was a rarity, a remarkable twist of fate that few could claim. Instead of dwelling on the whispers of disapproval, you chose to see this moment as a beautiful renewal of love, a chance to celebrate the bond you shared. In the years to come, it would make for an enchanting tale to share with your children—if they didn’t hear it from others first.

Although your situation was unique, you found yourself reliving the excitement of this special day. Of course, it was not the same as the first time; nothing ever could be. That day will always hold a special place in your heart. Besides, compared to that day, this one lacked certain things, the most significant being the presence of your brother Geta.

His absence was the only thing that made you sad. Even though those who had betrayed him had been punished and you had avenged him, it still didn’t numb the pain you felt inside, and you were certain it never would. However, you found solace in knowing that he was in a peaceful place now, waiting for the day you would meet again in the afterlife.

For now, while you were still alive, you decided it would be best to honor his memory rather than continue to mourn him.

“Your dress is ready, my lady.” Decima’s melodic voice cut through the stillness of the room, startling you from your reverie. Quickly, you brushed away the teardrops cascading down your cheeks and gently placed your daughter Flora on the plush bedding beside her brother. Sitting up, you felt a mix of anticipation and nerves wash over you.

Decima entered the chamber, flanked by a few slaves who were eager to assist in your dressing. It was a scene echoing your first wedding day, yet this time, the atmosphere was charged with an even deeper significance. Her child in her belly must be about five months now, and even though her belly showed, she looked well. Her arm, which had a wound, was healing well too.

“It’s a bit weird, you know...” Decima murmured as she began to unfasten your gown. “You were a princess when I dressed you then, and now here you are, on the brink of becoming an empress.”

You chuckled. “Titles are merely embellishments, dear. What really matters is our bond. You were my sister then, and you still are. Nothing has changed.”

She smiled. “You’ve always shown me such kindness, your heart so generous that I can only wish for your happiness. I pray that I never see you in tears again, Aurelia.”

“Decima,” you whispered, embracing her and feeling the gentle swell of her stomach beneath your hands. “Let’s create happiness together from this day forward, for ourselves and our loved ones.” Your gaze drifted to Marcius and Flora, and a smile illuminated your face. “I wish our children to grow up side by side, forging a bond like ours—close like sisters, or perhaps brothers?”

Decima giggled, her hands on her stomach. “I have a feeling that this little one will be a boy.”

“Oh, I hope so! Just imagine—my Marcius and your son growing up together, watching each other’s backs like their fathers did.”

“I hope so too, my lady,” she said with a grin as she helped you step into the flowing fabric of your long tunic, which cascaded around you like a gentle waterfall, each fold embracing your figure with elegance and grace.

“Ah, Aurelia, my dear, you’re still not dressed,” your Aunt Antonia exclaimed as she swept into the room, wearing elegant dress. The light caught her dazzling jewelry—shimmering bracelets, a cascade of pearls in her necklace, and sparkling earrings—that clinked softly with each graceful step she took.

“Aunt Antonia, you are truly a vision,” you said, appreciating her poise and sophistication despite her advancing years.

She chuckled lightly. “Am I overdressed? Honestly, I wasn't sure how to dress for this occasion, especially since my niece, the princess, is about to remarry her former husband, who is now the emperor. Since I will be escorting her to her future husband, I chose to dress elegantly in hopes that my outfit would be a topic of their conversation, thus diverting some attention away from you, considering that your event is already a source of gossip.”

You laughed. “My thanks. But you did well, you look remarkable.”

She beamed, adjusting her flowing dress with a practiced elegance as Decima secured your belt behind your back, the fabric smoothing perfectly over you.

“Now, you girls should hurry along,” Aunt Antonia urged, her hands gesturing animatedly. “Your husband did not appear as patient as you when I saw him,” she added, a playful wink sparkling in her eyes. The mention of him brought a warm flutter to your heart, with anticipation and excitement swirling in your stomach.

It was clear why.

Marcus had scarcely found a moment's rest since the Senate’s momentous decision to crown him Emperor of Rome. Though Elagabalus and his minions had been swept away, their legacy left a chaotic landscape behind. When the Carthaginians received the news of Marcus’s ascension, they initially fell into an uneasy silence. However, spurred on by Marcus's decisive orders, they quickly unleashed their wrath, declaring open war on Rome. Elagabalus had betrayed them, rendering all his promises void, and now they sought vengeance. The first act of their fury was to seize every merchant ship headed from Alexandria, aiming to choke the lifeblood of Rome—grain from Egypt. If the food did not reach the city, the consequences would be dire; the dwindling stores would last the populace no more than two months. It was paramount that this threat to Rome be neutralized swiftly.

Alongside these urgent matters, countless issues emerged that the usurper emperor had never anticipated or had chosen to ignore, leaving Marcus with a tangled web of problems to navigate. Despite the turmoil, he remained determined to restore order. Deep down, you longed for the days when he was merely a general, training his soldiers in the barracks rather than dealing with the complexities of power. Although he was busy then, he still found moments to be with you. Now, consumed by his duties, your bed felt cold and lonely, leaving you each night with a persistent worry gnawing at your thoughts.

As the slaves carefully placed your intricately designed crown upon your veil, you remembered the other night. It had been one of those long evenings when he assured you that he would join you in bed soon. Yet, the hours slipped away, and he never came. After the children had drifted into a deep, peaceful slumber, you quietly slipped out of your chambers. The night was warm, and a gentle breeze wafted through the air, filled with the sweet aroma of blooming flowers heralding spring. The soft chirping of crickets created a soothing symphony, completing the serene atmosphere.

As you approached the grand hall, the massive door swung open, revealing the chief clerk—a surprising sight at this late hour. He offered you a respectful salute before departing. The guards, standing sentinel, opened the door for you once more, closing it firmly behind you as you stepped into the dimly lit hall.

Marcus was seated at the long, imposing desk that belonged to Geta. You were used to seeing him there before, typically whimpering and looking troubled, with papers scattered in front of him. He would curse while drinking wine and asking for your opinion, which would make you giggle at him back then. Marcus, however, in contrast to him, now deeply engrossed in the papers scattered before him, wore a look of concentration, his brow furrowed in thought. Yet, when he caught sight of you approaching, his serious demeanor melted away. A warm smile broke across his face, one imbued with both fatigue and warmth.

He opened his arms wide, inviting you into his embrace. “The only face I wish to see... My beautiful princess. Come to me, my love.”

“I never would have agreed to the council’s choice to make you emperor if I had known you’d left me alone in bed,” you playfully complained as you settled onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close and burying his face in the curve of your collarbone, seeking solace.“Please forgive me for not coming to you tonight as I promised,” he murmured, his voice soft and sincere, resonating with a deep sense of longing."Are all of these matters truly urgent and demanding your attention?" you inquired, your gaze darting to the jumble of papers strewn across the table. "Are these the burdensome issues that keep you from coming to me?"

"Believe me, the only place I wish to be..." he murmured, his voice a low whisper as he kept his eyes lowered, his warm breath sending shivers along the length of your neck. "...is right here...," he crooned softly, his fingers gliding slowly up your legs, pausing tantalizingly before tracing a path between your thighs, leaving you breathless and yearning.

He slid his nose over the silk fabric of your dress, trailing it over your breasts as you swallowed loudly, "...and here."

You sighed as you ran your fingers through his curls. “Then let’s head to the room,” you whispered. He snickered as he felt your heartbeat quicken under his touch.

He tilted his head up, his gaze locking onto yours, and pressed his lips against yours in a tender kiss. You melted into it, your response igniting with an intensity that caught him off guard as you pulled him closer, your fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Patience, my love, just a little more patience,” he murmured with a teasing smile.

You frowned, the shadow of disappointment flickering across your face. “Are you really going to reject me for the sake of papers?” Each word dripped with the weight of your longing.

"Good gods, my lady, how can I reject you? Is that possible?" He touched the tip of your nose with the tip of his finger. “However, our marriage contract must be finalized by tomorrow, and I have yet to complete the necessary writings. I need to finish it by morning.”

You picked up the paper, “Contract? No one in my family is alive except my aunt. Are you going to make a wedding contract with her then?”

He gently took the paper from your hand and held it out. “That’s not the contract I’m talking about; it’s another one. As you know, women are not supposed to look at contract-related documents. Paulina's husband and I will come to an agreement tomorrow, as he is the only man who counts as your family.”

You raised a single eyebrow in disbelief, caught off guard by the unexpected weight of his words, which only provoked your stubbornness. "If this isn't the contract you're referring to, then what are you so afraid of me seeing?"

“This is our former marriage contract. With its annulment, this document must be properly disposed of—”

“If it's considered annulled, then you don’t mind me looking at it,” you said, taking the paper back into your hands.

Marcus opened his mouth to protest but then gave up. “I can face an army of thousands, but your stubbornness… it’s a battle I can’t win,” he sighed, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you shrugged your shoulders and reached for the rolled parchment that lay on the desk. The broken seal of Geta and Caracalla gleamed under the flickering candlelight, remnants of a significant pact. As you meticulously examined the convoluted claims of both sides, Marcus's fingers threaded through your hair, playing with it.

Then, as your gaze lingered on the demands of your half-brothers, a chill of realization coursed through you. You froze, your eyes locking onto Marcus’s face.

"I warned you," he muttered.

"I can't believe this. Why didn't you tell me before?"

He gave you a suggestive look in reply.

Some aspects of the deal were utterly ridiculous. It felt less like a marriage contract and more like an agreement to use Marcus as their servant. It seemed like an opportunity for them to send him to fight in their wars, effectively eliminating any chance he had to object. As his wife, you felt reduced to a mere tool in their scheme. It filled you with anger.

"So he was to send you to any war he deemed necessary. That must have been Caracalla's wish," you grumbled.

"It was," he nodded.

"And you accepted it without objection?" you asked.

He looked you in the eye. "True. I've made my choice, and I have never regretted it."

In that moment, you fell in love with him all over again. "Marcus, my love," you whispered, hugging him and kissing his neck. "I love you with all my heart and soul."

He kissed your temple and leaned in, whispering in your ear, “Stella noctis meae obscurae, shining star of my dark night, I love you too.”

He grabbed your chin and kissed you, much more passionately than before—almost lustfully—until the sound of the door opening interrupted you. Marcus broke the kiss and cursed softly under his breath, and you couldn't help but giggle in response.

“Please forgive the interruption, Your Highness. May I have a moment of your time?” Darius's voice carried a hint of sincerity, though he sounded uncertain.

“Your timing couldn’t be worse, Darius,” Marcus hissed.

You nudged Marcus's shoulder with your elbow, feeling embarrassed as you stood up from his lap. He shot you a playful wink and squeezed your hips teasingly before you stepped away, leaving him to talk.

It was the last time you and Marcus had spoken for a long time properly, the rest of the days had been busy and you hadn't even touched each other properly, so you exactly know why he was impatient right now, because you were too.

Suddenly, your thoughts were pulled back to the present by the delicate veil that Aunt Antonia gently draped over your head, its translucent fabric soft against your skin, momentarily blurring your vision. "At least this remarriage allows me to do things now that I couldn't at your first wedding because I wasn't there, my dear."

You understood her sentiment; it was a long-held tradition for a bride to be nurtured and prepared by her mother, a role your aunt was stepping into with heartfelt sincerity. “Thank you, Aunt Antonia,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you fought to hold back the tears threatening to spill. In that moment, memories of your own first wedding flooded back, bringing the same powerful emotions once more, stirring the depths of your heart.

As you descended the stairs together, the warm glow of the sun illuminated the expansive courtyard— the very place where your first wedding took place. Just like that beautiful day, a sea of faces filled the space, eagerly awaiting your arrival. You stepped into the courtyard, gentle applause swelled around you, creating an echo of joy that lifted your spirit. You gracefully made your way forward, the soft rustle of your elegant wedding dress whispering against the marble floor. Grasping the fabric of your veil with one arm, you scanned the crowd with your eyes, searching for him.

Marcus stood majestically at the altar, next to the high priest, with Marcius cradled lovingly in his arms. He resembled a divinity in his white armor that gleamed gloriously, his golden crown resting gracefully upon his head. You inhaled sharply at the sight, your heart racing as you moved toward him, each step filled with exaltation. Marcius, perched on his father’s lap, cooed and cheered, filling the air with joyous sounds that harmonized beautifully with the crowd’s admiration.

As you drew nearer, Marcus carefully handed Marcius to Norell, who stood beside him with a reassuring smile. Behind her, Tullia had your daughter Flora wrapped securely in her arms. You cast a quick, surprised glance at them, having expected that Tullia and the others would be at the villa for the ritual as they had been last time. You wondered why they weren't there this time.

Your aunt suddenly paused, inviting you to do the same. Before you, Marcus stood—your beloved, soon to be your husband again—his piercing gaze filled with a mixture of excitement and devotion. Each heartbeat felt like a drumbeat, amplifying the weight of all the love and memories that had led you both to this moment.

Once the high priest warmly welcomed the gathered guests, a small pig was brought forth, symbolizing a sacred offering to Juno to bless the union. The priest's hand gestured toward Marcus, prompting him to step forward. With tender reverence, he posed the question he had once asked your brothers and now directed to Antonia:

"In her father's absence, will you give me this woman, to be my wife?”

With a heartfelt acceptance, Antonia placed your hand gently in Marcus's palm, entrusting you to him. He slid the ring onto your finger, lifting your veil to let the golden light dance across your face.

The emotion between you was intense, reminiscent of the excitement you felt on your first wedding day. Marcus, seeing the joy in your eyes and feeling it deep down in his own heart, smiled warmly, leaned down, and kissed you gently, sealing your bond, accompanied by soft applauses.

——

Soft melodies played in the background, and the carefully presented dishes and drinks were accompanied by the sounds of laughter and lively discussions filling the great courtyard, while the streets of Rome were alive with the same spirit of joy and celebration.

You had asked Marcus for his permission to make this revelry accessible to everyone—every inhabitant of Rome, including visitors—so that all could partake in this joyous occasion. You ordered to ensure that special meals were delivered to the poorhouse, the barracks, and even the Ludus Magnus. Your intent was for no one to go to bed hungry tonight, not even the stray animals. People were happy and saw this action as unprecedented; it was a remarkable display of kindness that sparked conversations throughout the empire, which you knew would continue for quite some time.

While sitting at the banquet table with Marcus, numerous individuals approached you to congratulate you on your marriage. Your son, Marcius, was also seated at your table, enjoying the meal alongside everyone else, but as the evening progressed, he fell asleep. You asked Decima to take him to your chambers to rest.

“Tullia and Norell are here too,” you said, looking at them as Marcus sipped his wine. He didn’t answer; he just looked down at his glass and grinned. You recognized that grin—it was definitely one of his mischievous ones.

“I thought we were spending the night at the villa?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

Marcus met your gaze, licking a morsel of cake from his thumb, his eyes shimmering with desire. “Not just tonight, but many nights,” he corrected.

“Then why are they here? Shouldn’t they be waiting for us at the villa like last time? I mean, for the ritual.”

With another sip of his wine, Marcus raised his eyebrows and shook his head slowly, his demeanor shifting. When he spoke again, his voice sent shivers down your spine, deep and almost fierce. “Rituals… laws… Nothing and no one will come between us tonight.”

“What does that mean?” you asked, grinning.

He reached for your hand on the table and grasped it, leaning towards you. His gaze pierced yours as he looked under his eyebrows. “It will be the two of us in the villa, night after night, day after day—just you and me.”

You blinked and looked at him, swallowing hard. Why did the air suddenly become so hot?

“So that's what you were planning?" you teased.

“I’ve been working tirelessly to wrap up every duty for days, and now I want to devote myself to one singular duty,” he replied, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

Your breath hitched as his hand ventured under the table, exploring the warmth of your legs. “What’s that duty?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“The duty to make you mine, of course.” His hand moved with bold intentions, igniting an eager impatience within you.

“I’m already yours,” you whispered, leaning in closer, your lips meeting with his, blissfully ignoring the world around you, lost in the magic of the moment.

“I hope you slept well last night." He crooned. "Tonight will be endless.”

"Hmm, that reminds me of something; it brings back delightful memories," you said, your fingers gently tracing along his thigh. You noticed him breathing heavily. Then, your hand found the leather strips of his armor and slipped beneath them but he grasped your hand firmly. "I wouldn’t advise you to do that; playing with fire can be perilous," he warned, his eyes dark.

You had a cheeky grin on your face as you leaned closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “I don't want to play with it; I want to burn with it,” you whispered seductively, making him swallow hard.

In that intense moment, the world around you faded into oblivion. You locked eyes with Marcus, the vibrant colors of the party dissolving into a hazy blur, leaving only the two of you ensnared in an undeniable tension. The sounds of laughter and lively chatter turned into a muffled echo, overshadowed by the magnetic connection crackling between you. In that instant, nothing else held significance—only the fervent urgency of your shared desire.

“To hell with the banquet,” Marcus grumbled and stood up, gripping your hand tightly. You rose with him, surprised yet grateful.

As you two moved, heads turned in your direction, whisperings and curious glances swirling around you. Yet, Marcus remained unfazed, draining the rest of his wine in a single gulp, dismissing the polite greetings and nods of acknowledgment that surrounded you. He strode across the courtyard with determination, pulling you along behind him. You struggled to keep up due to your veil and long dress, but he didn't seem to notice.

A surge of exhilaration coursed through you at the thought of being alone with him, yet an unsettling flicker of confusion twisted in your stomach; Marcus was behaving strangely. He swept you away without allowing you a moment to bid farewell to anyone, completely ignoring his friends and his cousin Agrippa, who had just arrived in Rome the day before to attend the wedding. You were taken aback by his sudden rudeness, but you didn’t blame him at all.

He was the emperor himself, after all; who could dare to stop him?

On the way to the villa, you were accompanied by a few guards and soldiers. Upon your arrival, some of them returned, while others remained outside the villa's walls to protect you. The moment you stepped into the courtyard filtered by moonlight, Marcus swept you off your feet. His embrace was a blend of impatience and fierce urgency as if he had abducted you. Without a moment's hesitation, he raced up the stairs, his white shawl billowing behind him like a flag of conquest, symbolizing his eagerness to claim this moment with you. He angrily kicked the door shut behind him, and your laughter filled the room.

He gently lowered you to the ground, yet his restlessness was palpable, radiating an unspoken longing.

"Oh, I've missed my home," you sighed, looking around. You sank onto the bed and reclined against the soft pillows, while Marcus reverently removed the crown from his head and placed it on the desk.

“What exactly are you doing?” His voice was filled with confusion.

You sighed and responded, "Savoring this blissful moment."

You felt the sway of the bed and realized he had joined you, sitting close beside you. Still, you kept your eyes closed, cherishing the tranquility after all the turmoil you had endured.

“Shouldn’t you be looking at me while you savor the blissful moment?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

You sat up and traced your fingers along his jawline, feeling the rough softness of his beard and skin beneath your touch. “Even when I close my eyes, all I see is you, my love,” you whispered.

“Aurelia,” he murmured, his voice trembling, the smell of wine wafting from his breath as he leaned toward you.

Without warning, he took hold of your waist, pulling you in close as he kissed you passionately. He was firm, rough, and forceful. His eager lips pressed against yours hard enough to push your head back, and though you were surprised at first, the welcoming taste of sweet but sharp wine on his lips, caused you to lean into his kiss, your eyes closing. You tilted your head into the kiss, even, and opened your mouth for him, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth and run it against your own.

It was one of the deepest kisses that you had ever had. Your body arched as he was pressing himself on you eagerly, your head was pressed all the way back against the bed while he was forcefully pushing his tongue down your throat.  The intense taste of wine on his tongue and in his saliva made it clear just how much he had consumed. Even you were feeling a bit intoxicated now, while he consumed your mouth too, soon you let out a moan against his lips, only prompting him to reach his hand up and grope at your chest.

Your entire body tensed up as his lips dipped lower, pressing wet kisses against your cleavage window and taking a deep breath. You blushed slightly, your lips trembled at his rash, greedy demand, but there was something very arousing about it, as with everything else he did. It was so shameless and needy that while his kisses continued, while his hands expertly undressed you and freed you from the wedding dress - with such force and haste that he almost tore the fabric - he still hadn't even bothered to remove his armor.

As he bent over you again, the leather strips from his armor brushed against your thighs, causing you to shiver

Wait, was he really going to take you like this?

"Marcus-"

He silenced you with another deep and hungry kiss. If you hadn't been aroused enough, you might have been angry with him, but you were as hungry for his touch as you were for his kiss. You smiled at his hungry gaze on the swells of your full breasts. He licked his lips at the sight of them and sighed deeply. Then he curved his big, warm hand around your breast, covered one of them with his lips, tugging your nipple, and you made little noises at his touch. Soon, you were enclosing your limbs hungrily around him, locked in a ravenous kiss, his great erection pressed between you, and so did his armor.

The metal parts of it pressing against your bare skin were initially arousing, but then they became an unsettling obstacle. "Marcus, my love," you said breathlessly.

But he didn't seem to hear you. Instead, he whispered to you in a commanding tone, his hand sliding slowly between your knees. "Spread your legs for me."

This attitude triggered your stubbornness. You frowned and pressed your hand against his armour, pushing yourself back. "Not until you take this off." Your hands reached for the threads of his armour and tugged at them.

He tilted his head, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the sight of himself, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Oh, apologies." He sank onto the edge of the bed, his fingers deftly working to untie the intricate laces of his armor.

This behavior was unusual for him; he must have had too much to drink.

“My emperor, let me help you,” you murmured tenderly, and a charming smile lit up his features. Skillfully, you freed him from the heavy confines of his armor and the soft shawl flowing from his shoulders.

Once he completely undressed, he suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you close. With a playful eagerness, he laid you roughly on the bed, and you gasped. He rolled you over and, without hesitation, found himself pressing against you once more.

“May I ask you something?” you breathed.

“Hmm?”

A thrill ran through you as he trailed warm and wet kisses along your skin.

“Could it be that you’re a little drunk right now?”

His gaze met yours, intensifying as he answered, “I certainly am. Your intoxicating scent ensnares me; I’m utterly captivated by your beauty.”

His fingers found their way between your thighs and began to stroke your lips.

"That's not what I meant-" your voice trailed off as your breathing became erratic.

You moaned as his fingers dug deep inside you and you spread your legs wider, desperately but needily. Your entire body tightened up, from your thighs clenching around his hand to your fingers digging into his arms, almost frozen with how hot you felt. It wasn't even about the thrill of him drilling you in a half-drunk state anymore. It was also about how ridiculously good he made you feel, how you could feel every movement of his fingers inside you, moving with such ease. You were so wet that you could hear the sloshing of his fingers as he wrenched them inside your walls.

"You are soaked for me already," he crooned.

"Mmm…" Your moans grew consistently audible, each one slightly louder than the last as a rhythm was found. Unlike his movements, yours were slow and deliberate, beckoning you to rock your hips against him, seeking more pleasure. That's when you completely surrendered yourself to him, losing all sense of control. You just wanted pure, unadulterated bliss to wrack your entire being, only wishing to be his, no matter how rough he was being. You pushed yourself into him, wanting everything he could possibly give you.

And he did.

His other hand gave your breast a gentle squeeze as he began to suckle firmly on that nipple while he thrust his thick fingers in and out of you, enjoying the way you moaned softly and writhed under him. Soon, it all became too much, and you started pleading with him desperately, begging him to just let you come.

He curled his fingers inside of you, pressing up against a spot that had you seeing stars, tensing up as you finally released with a shrill cry of his name.

Your juice splattered against his palm, leaving a mess that you would have been embarrassed about if you cared, but you did not. As your entire body lit up with sensation and sensitivity in the moments that followed your orgasm, you collapsed back against the bed, your cheeks flushed deeply, your chest rising and falling.

Marcus, meanwhile, moved up onto his knees, his rock-hard lust standing upright between his legs. The sight of you laying there, lost in bliss, with your legs trembling as you open and close them and your cunnie dripping gave him an urge that he absolutely needed to take care of. His possessive hands found your knees, and then he spread them wide open, you bit your lower lip, surprised and thrilled, looking down at him with wide eyes. He moved between them and leaned down to claim another kiss. You kissed him back eagerly.

“You look gorgeous sprawled beneath me.” He had said those exact words to you that night you were here.

Just before he took your virginity.

Even though his words were the same, remembering that day made you realize how different everything was now. That night, he had been gentle with you, but now, in contrast, his roughness was exactly what you craved.

He pulled your legs a little further apart and looked at you as he shoved his need deep into you in one hard and fast thrust and you gasped, your back arching. One of his hands snakes underneath you, holding your hips in place as he wrings every ounce of pleasure from your body.

He then pulled back, only to push deeper into you; before that, you met his hungry gaze.

“I want to ravish you,” he whispered into your ear, startling you and sending shivers down your spine.

His drunken state must have intensified his lust, and you relished it. You were consumed with helpless lust; you needed him and he needed you; there was no turning back now.

Your legs tightened to draw him back, you could feel his hands on your buttocks as he began to find his rapid and brutal pace. He repeatedly hit the delicious spot inside of you with almost pointed anger. It pulled a ragged groan from your throat, and your eyes rolled back into your skull.

You were certain that he was not completely himself, but you were also tremendously aroused by his indecent demeanor. You usually loved it much more when he was rough yet you weren't sure how far he could go in this state, and it frightened you a little. Your instincts told you to stop him, but your trust in him outweighed your fears.

Without slowing his pace, he crashed his lips roughly against yours, you moaning between your lips again and again. He pushed deeper and deeper with each thrust, faster, harder; you could hear his guttural sounds mingled with your moans; hearing all those sounds only turned you on more. Heat coiled in your stomach and your poor clit throbbed almost painfully.

He placed his fingers behind your neck and leaned his forehead against yours. His breath was hot and wet against your face and his pupils were dilated with lust. Raw moans and growls rumbled in his throat and chest.

“Oh, gods!” You cried out, whimpering helplessly and clenching wildly around him, burying your face in his collarbone as you came. Your claws dug into his back relentlessly, your toes curling inward to cling to his lower back.

Your eyes remained closed, feeling the aftershocks of your own climax, you felt his lips lingering on your skin. "You look so beautiful when you fall apart around my cock," he purred.

"Marcus," you purred, his words were just too much.

You opened your eyes and just smiled at him in response, your body was still mostly numb.

He moved a hand to your throat and wrapped it around, claiming your body as his while planting kisses over your flesh, nibbling, marking it all over.

"Marcus, what are you- Ow!" You let out a sharp squeal in delight and shock as he spun you around and bent you over so fast that your vision blurred momentarily. Your hair cascaded over your shoulders and flowed down to the bed like a curtain. No matter how exciting and arousing you find this position, you were not ready, not yet.

You were feeling exhausted, and needed a moment.

In response to his possessive grip, your heart fluttered like a bird's wing; your throat felt dry, making it hard to swallow. His hands smoothed over your bottom and up your spine as you shivered against his touch. He grunted behind you, his grip on your body tightened and he leaned forward.

"Marcus," You breathed out.

He didn't respond.

What the hell? Could he not hear you, or was he simply ignoring you?

During every intimate moment you'd shared together, he always prioritized your pleasure and desires, never doing anything that you didn't want or like.

But apparently not tonight.

With a snarl, he used his knee to spread your legs further, causing you to fall to your forearms, your wet cunt so prettily on display for him. Fortunately, you felt yourself turned on again by his warm touches on your breasts and his hot breath against your skin, and you found yourself as eager as he was. You moaned at the friction as he circled his tip around your clit. In one fast thrust, he slid his length into you, stretching you out in a way you never had been before. As he bottomed out, you gasped for air, clutching linens desperately.

"You are mine - my wife, my Empress, all mine," he murmured to himself and then groaned, slowly pulling out only to sink back in at the same rate. You'd never seen him this drunk before, so you weren't sure if he wanted you to hear those words.

You were unsure of how you should feel. Part of you wanted to kiss and hug him because he was so adorable, but the other part of you was afraid that you wouldn't be able to satisfy his ravenous need. His grip on your buttocks shattered your thoughts, squeezing them, digging his fingers into your flesh in a way that would surely leave colorful bruises in the morning. With that, he continued his thrusts, never giving you a break, hitting you so deep each time that you almost thought you could see a set of stars around you.

You remembered the last time he had been this rough. In the past, his roughness had stemmed from anger or the fervor of your reunions, where he felt needy. But what he displayed now was an entirely different level of fervor—raw, unrestrained.

Yet, there was something exhilarating about the way he claimed you, taking what he wanted as if your very essence were a canvas for his desires. You reveled in the way he used you for his need, yet you were acutely aware that your body was not as resilient as his. It was a fragile vessel compared to his overwhelming strength. The notion of trying to resist him felt absurd; deep down, you knew it was futile and far too tempting to even consider.

His need rammed into you again and again, making slick sounds that grew louder and louder. He then pulled you back up against him and wrapped his muscular arms around you, nibbling your neck and gathering your breasts into one great hand. His other hand going to rub your clit. His hips kept a steady rhythm and you felt your skin shiver at being filled so completely by his big need, it was becoming too much and you were getting close.

“Marcus, p-please,” you begged. You didn't even know what you were begging for, to be honest. It was too much.

All of it.

He shuddered and cursed as he felt your walls slowly clenching around him and he nuzzled your ear, increasing your goosebumps. "Do you want it, my love? Tell me. I have not come for days, as you know.”

His words, his voice, sounded like a soft murmur in your ears as you were at the height of your pleasure and you felt all-consumed, utterly exhausted, and on the verge of fainting.

"Say it," he commanded with the same authority as a general commanding his troops, perhaps because he was eager to reach his own release.

It’s as if you could ever refuse him.

"Y-yes, p-please,” you stammered, so tired that your voice was barely a whisper.

Grinning in response, he covered your mouth with his own and his tongue dug into your mouth before biting down on your lower lip and continuing his torment, thrusting mercilessly into you. You felt an undeniable urge to lean forward, but his strong arm held you back, leaving you completely at the mercy of the primal beast within him.

Becoming brutal and urgent, he fucked you so hard that your body juddering as you swooned and tried to stop your limbs from collapsing. Soon, your head fell back, and you cried out as the climax hit you, crashing through your body, you were not proud of the sounds you just made. Involuntarily, you bucked yourself onto him, collapsing onto his chest. He grabbed your hair and kissed you passionately as you came. Without releasing you, he was moving faster and faster until he buried his face in your hair and you felt his cock pulsate, fired with endless shots of warm, creamy seed deep inside you. Another orgasm took you suddenly as you felt him come, your insides swallowing every last drop from his thrusting shaft. You cried out one last time with everything you had left and clung to his arm, your fingers digging into his flesh. His grip around you loosened a little but did not let go completely, and when he was sure that he had wholly emptied himself into you with a loud groan, he collapsed onto the bed and you fell beside him. You were lying there with his arms and legs wrapped around you, all sweaty and covered in love juices that were flowing down your thighs while you waited for your breathing to settle. You barely heard him whispering "I love you" through his heavy breaths, but your eyelids grew so heavy that you could no longer resist and eventually fell into a deep sleep.

—-

As the sun ascended in the sky, it cast a warm, golden glow over the villa, illuminating the vibrant red roof and pristine white walls with an ethereal light. Outside, the air was alive with the joyful chirping of birds and the distant neighing of horses from the stables, harmonizing with the soft clucking of chickens. Yet, within the villa, a serene silence enveloped the space, a stark contrast to the noises from the previous night.

Marcus stirred awake, the gentle breeze wafting through the open balcony doors brushed softly against his skin. He let out a deep, contented sigh as he opened his eyes, only to be met with the dull ache pulsing in his temple. As he attempted to move his arm, he became aware of the warm weight cradled against his chest, a sweet fragrance enveloping him. His gaze fell downwards, and he was met with the sight of your hair cascading like silk, your head nestled beneath his chin. With careful movements, he propped himself up on his elbow, leaning closer to admire your peaceful face. Your eyes remained closed, and a tranquil expression graced your features, lost in the embrace of a deep slumber. Marcus leaned down, pressing tender kisses through your hair and lightly brushing your cheek, an intimate ritual meant to rouse you but it didn't work.

He gently shifted his arm and leg away, his heart sinking as he noticed the reddened marks on your shoulder and leg. A knot of unease formed in his stomach—something felt off, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had gone wrong. Slowly, he withdrew his other arm from beneath your head and sat up at the edge of the bed, he realized you had fallen asleep without pulling the bedclothes over you. When he spotted your veil, wedding dress and his armor strewn across the floor, memories from the night began to surface.

He recalled the numerous glasses of wine he had consumed throughout the day and night—quite a lot, in fact. He remembered the conversation between the two of you while seated at the table, along with your son Marcius and the guests. However, what happened afterwards was somewhat hazy.

As he pulled the bedclothes over you, he noticed the bruises on your thighs and your hips, he paused. When he bent down to inspect the bruises more closely, he frowned and felt a tightness in his chest upon seeing several purplish marks just above your torso and around your neck. Slowly, memories began to resurface one by one: his words and rough behavior toward you, what he and you had said, your moans, cries—everything.

He couldn't remember a moment in his life when he had felt such profound shame. He cursed to himself as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his stomach churning with regret for the pain he had caused you. He sighed deeply, the sound reverberating in the stillness of the room, as he slipped into his white tunic.

As he observed you lying there, a wave of dread swept over him like an impending storm. What if you woke up filled with anger, disappointment, or resentment? The thought gnawed at him, a relentless echo in his mind. He had envisioned this night as a celebration of love, meticulously planning romantic things for weeks, but instead, he had treated his beloved wife like a whore, not like she deserved to be treated, and he would never forgive himself for the disrespect he had shown you.

He settled on the edge of the bed, watching you with a sense of awe and remorse as the soft morning light danced across your features, hoping for the chance to make things right as he waited for you to awaken.

——

You stirred awake, the gentle caress of soft touches on your shoulder pulling you from the realm of dreams. You felt a bit disappointed; you'd imagined waking up in Marcus's arms. As your eyes fluttered open, you were greeted by the sight of Marcus sitting beside you, his expression a mixture of contemplation and tenderness.

“Morning, husband,” you said, smiling. You reached for the collar of his tunic, playfully tugging him closer until your lips met in a kiss. He stayed motionless as he kissed you back.

“Morning,” he murmured, your smile faltering as his gaze fell to your shoulder. Why wasn't he looking at you directly?

Sitting up, you cradled his face in your hands. “Marcus, my love, what’s troubling you?”

He hesitated, looking down as he took a deep breath. "I... I remember last night," he finally said.

“Oh, so you do.” In a moment of instinct, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, feeling the familiar warmth of his body as his arm instinctively wrapped around you, drawing you closer. “It was a pretty great night,” you added, a soft smile gracing your lips.

“Except I hurt you,” he grunted, tension evident in his voice.

“What makes you think you hurt me?”

He gently traced the bruise on your shoulder with a finger, and you winced at the faint pain it brought. When you looked back up at him, you noticed a storm of anger brewing in his eyes.

“Come on, love, it’s just a small bruise. I’m a medicus, remember? I can make an ointment; it will vanish in a day or two.”

“That’s not the issue, Aurelia,” he hissed, frustration lacing his words. “It’s how I treated you. Besides, I don’t understand why you’re not angry with me.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “You were drunk; it’s not your fault.”

“Stop it, please.”

“No, I won’t,” you said defiantly.

He turned his head, the remnants of anger still clinging to him.

“Are we really going to spend the morning after our wedding night arguing about this? I’m perfectly happy, you know. What about you?”

He folded his arms, a mixture of disbelief and concern clouding his features. “You’re saying you are happy, even in this situation, even after what I did to you? You’re truly an incredible woman,” he mumbled.

You nestled against him once more, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I truly feel like the happiest woman in the world to be your wife, my love. And why should I be upset with you for being just a bit rough? That happens... sometimes..."

He gave you a piercing stare that silenced you, and you bit your lip.

"Well, I have to admit I felt a bit shaken and exhausted, but that doesn’t change the fact that it was a remarkable night."

His expression softened, pondering your words.

"So, how did this happen? This is the first time I’ve seen you like this—truly drunk." With a playful jab to his muscular chest, you teased, "How did my glorious general find himself in this state, I wonder?"

A faint smile crept across his lips. "I was quite young the last time I experienced this level of inebriation. Honestly, I’m a bit surprised myself." He reached out, his fingers weaving through your hair, their warmth sending a soothing sensation through you. "It’s no easy task being emperor. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in almost two weeks, constantly navigating the demands of senators, consuls, legates, and everything else in between." He let out a deep, weary breath, ruffling his tousled hair in frustration. "The pace was relentless—I squeezed everything into a single week just to ensure everything was ready for our wedding. I’ was feeling utterly exhausted, more than I’ve ever felt even on the battlefield. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of being with you." He kissed your temple, then continued.

"I believed I was finally free from the faces of those old arrogant politicians for a while. Yet they kept pouring out their troubles as if I were their confidant, even in the banquette at my wedding. I was drinking the whole time, trying to maintain my composure, but I eventually lost it. It was either let the wine take control of me or make them slaughter all right then and there."

"I don't blame you at all," you said with a chuckle.

He smirked in response. “I can’t stand the smell of wine for a while,” he said, closing his eyes, running his middle finger between his eyebrows.

“Do you have a headache? I’ll make you an herbal tea,” you replied, swinging your leg toward the floor to get out of bed. He reached behind you and grabbed you by the shoulders.

“How about a relaxing bath first?” he suggested, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder before rising from the bed. There was a warmth in his tone that felt both commanding and comforting. “You stay right here; I’ll come get you when the bath is ready,” he assured you.

“The emperor of Rome is going to prepare a bath for me?”

“The emperor of Rome is going to prepare a bath for his beautiful wife, his empress,” he corrected, a playful wink accompanying his words.

With that, he strode out of the room, leaving you gazing after him, your heart racing. You blinked slowly, a giddy smile spreading across your face as the word “empress” rolled over your lips, its sweetness lingering in the air like a cherished secret.

—-

You kept complaining playfully when Marcus swept you into his arms and carried you to the balneum, yet his determination was unyielding. He met your protests with a warm smile, his eyes gleaming with affection as you admired his careful preparation of the bath. The moment you eased into the steaming hot water, a deep sigh of relief escaped your lips; the soothing liquid enveloped your body, melting away tension and fatigue.

You lingered together, lost in the tranquility of the moment, the rhythm of your breathing harmonizing with the gentle splashes of the water. Outside, a melodic chorus of birds sang, weaving a serene backdrop to your shared silence. Eventually, feeling hungry, you sat down to eat at the lectus in the courtyard. Everything was already prepared, so you carried the food to the table together and fed it to each other, your laughters echoing around.

Despite the intimacy of your meal, the villa felt very quiet, and you realized how much you already missed your children. However, you knew you needed some time away from everything and everyone. You could sense the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, and you wanted to do everything you could to support him. Soon, the shadow of battle would loom over him, but for now, in this precious moment together, he wanted to escape thoughts of war and politics. And you agreed wholeheartedly; the peace you shared was a sanctuary, an escape.

After dinner, the two of you went to your small clinic next to the kitchen, where various herbs were stored. As you prepared the herbal ointment, he watched you with curiosity and interest. While you explained how the ointment was made, detailing the herbs used, their purposes, and how you had learned about them, he leaned against the table with his arms folded, listening intently and smiling softly.

He picked up one of the herb jars while you pounded the Hypericum perforatum (St. John's wort) in a mortar and pestle to extract its essence.

“The flowers of this plant are pretty. What do you use it for?” he asked.

“Plumbago auriculata. Its lovely appearance can be deceiving—it's actually quite toxic.”

“Hmm…” he mused, placing the jar back down, then stepping closer to observe your meticulous work. “Haven't you ever experienced boredom? Did you never go against Vicius?”

You looked up at him, not quite understanding his question. Marcus continued, “You didn't know who you were or who your family was, but Vicius did. It must have been hard for him to have you as his apprentice for all those years without arousing suspicion—both for him and for you. Did no one ever suspect you were a woman?”

You took a deep breath as you recalled those days. “Of course there were, but Lucius was on my side. He always protected me.” When you looked at him, his face was thoughtful. “As a brother, of course,” you added.

He laughed. “I’m not jealous of him anymore, so don’t worry. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“At times, I felt somewhat trapped. My life revolved around the Valetudinarium (hospital) and home, while the other girls in my age were free to explore, fall in love, and get married. It was like... suffocating.”

He stepped closer, his fingers gently brushing back the strands of your loose hair, his touch a tenderness that sent a shiver down your spine. “I will be forever grateful to Vicius for two things: first, for saving my life, and second, for sheltering you from the outside.”

“How do you mean?” you asked.

“If he had allowed you to wander outside like other girls, or if he had attempted to find a husband for you, or if he hadn’t trained you to be a skilled medicus—if you hadn’t come to my tent that night and helped him heal me—if I hadn’t met you... My life would have been ruined, my love.”

“Marcus,” you cooed, reaching across the table to kiss him. “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything,” he said, his lips brushing over the knuckles of your hand.

“When the children grow up and when Rome flourishes, free of her enemies, can we visit Alexandria one day? I long to see it again; it was my entire childhood.”

He nodded earnestly, a soft smile spreading across his face. “If that’s what you wish, then of course we will go.”

You smiled widely. “Thank you. Long live Caesar,” you giggled.

He frowned. “Don’t call me that, please.”

You pulled back and looked at him, you could read everything in his expression. "You're still struggling with it, aren't you?"

"And I fear I always will. I’m used to being called General. Caesar feels foreign to me."

You tilted your head slightly, considering his words. “I think that title suits you,” you offered, your voice soft. “But if you prefer, I can keep calling you General.”

In an instant, something flickered in his warm brown eyes. “Yes, I want you to call me that,” he answered.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “My general,” you breathed, your voice light and teasing, deliberately softening each word to draw him in.

His breath hitched and he lowered his head and captured your lips with his in a heated kiss. It deepened instantly, a fusion of urgency and longing. He enveloped you in his strong embrace, lifting you effortlessly onto the table, pressing his body against yours. As his hands slid down to your hips, you instinctively wrapped your legs around him, pressing closer, craving his warmth. You threw your head back, allowing his lips to move from your chin to your neck, longing for him to touch you more.

But he stopped suddenly, his body rigid. You looked at him again; his brow was furrowed as he stared at the bruise on your neck.

“You'd better get some rest tonight.” Something in his tone squeezed your heart, but at the same time, it made you angry.

He gently pushed away your legs that were wrapped around his waist. You grabbed his arm as he moved away from you.

The rich hue of his brown eyes held a captivating beauty that left you momentarily speechless, lost in their depths.

“Marcus, please. You’re worrying for nothing; I’m fine,” you coaxed, trying to ease his troubled mind.

He turned away, his gaze fixated on the bowl behind you. “If the ointment is ready, I’ll apply it on your bruises,” he murmured.

Your excitement seemed to fade in an instant, but you had no intention of retreat. He took the ointment and you went up to the room together. You sat on the bed while he sat next to you. As he meticulously applied the ointment, his fingers glided over your skin, and you tried to meet his gaze with a playful allure. But he only responded with a smile.

There was only one remedy left.

You let out a soft, lingering moan as you settled down on the bed and he immediately turned his head towards you. The look of concern on his face was so beautiful that you found it hard to suppress a giggle.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he came closer, your heart pounding with excitement.

“I’m afraid not,” you replied.

He sat back down on the bed. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

You nodded.

“Where does it hurt?” he inquired.

With a delicate movement, you took his hand in both of yours, your fingers trembling slightly as you guided it to rest over your chest. “Here,” you murmured, letting your voice drop to a whisper.

He swallowed at the feel of your breasts beneath his hand, you smiled to yourself and then placed his hand between your legs, where you wanted him most. "And here."

He narrowed his eyes. "You can't behave, can you?""Please," you whispered, pushing his hand deeper.

He gasped as he felt your wetness under the fabric.

And the victory was yours.

Taking advantage of his bewilderment, you got up on your knees and sank into his lap, giggling when you felt that he was already quite hard under your hips and you deliberately rubbed yourself against him. He appeared troubled and remained motionless, you were pushing his limits dangerously close. You slowly and softly brushed your lips against his, and he rumbled, breathing heavily.

Suddenly, he laid you back on the bed and leaned in. His body was covering yours, but he was still hesitant. "Are you certain about this?"

You nodded, and grabbed his tunic and pulled him to you, whispering in his ear. "I am, my love. I want you inside me, please."

And that was the last straw.

Your words struck him deeply, causing him to swallow hard. He aggressively removed his tunic, throwing it somewhere only the gods knew. He then grabbed the hem of your dress, sliding it up to your waist, exposing your womanhood to the night. You surrendered to the thrill, biting your lower lip in eager anticipation, spreading your legs for him. Settling between them, leaning in, he firmly placed his hands on the bed on either side of you, his gaze locked onto yours. Leaning in, he whispered into your ear before he shoved his cock deep inside you:

”Don’t say I didn't warn you.”

—-

As morning light filtered softly through the curtains, you both stirred awake to the sounds of hurried footsteps and murmured voices drifting in from the courtyard below. The guards, had been commanded to remain outside unless absolutely necessary. So you wondered what was happening.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the early morning stillness. “Acacius! Your highness, I beg your pardon, but a matter of grave urgency has arisen! I shall wait for you downstairs.” It was Octavius, his tone laced with a mix of concern and haste.

Marcus, sensing the urgency, bolted upright, the linen sheets slipping down his torso. He quickly scanned the room, eyes landing on the tunic he had carelessly tossed the night before. With swift fingers, he grabbed it and slipped it on.

You pulled the sheet up to your chin, the weight of sleep still heavy in your limbs as you sat up, curiosity piqued. Marcus turned to you, raising his hand to gesture to you. “Stay in bed,” he said and hurried out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Their fervent murmuring gave you a bad feeling. Your first thought was of your children, and you couldn't help but worry. You got out of bed, wrapping the linen around you, and opened the door slowly to listen to their conversation. You couldn’t hear much, but when you peeked out, you noticed Octavius' silhouette in the distance. He bowed his head to Marcus, turned around, and hurried away. A sense of dread washed over you as you waited anxiously for Marcus to return.

When he finally came back, he strode purposefully toward the closet.

“Marcus? What’s happening? What did Octavius say?” you asked, a tremor in your voice.

With calm urgency, he retrieved your clothes from the closet.

"You need to get dressed, my love. The carriage awaits to take you to Palatine Hill," he urged, his voice steady yet tender.

He laid your fresh clothes—a soft tunic and stola—on the bed. With gentle care, he lowered it over your head, enveloping you in its soft fabric. A whirlwind of questions churned in your mind, but only one emerged in a breathless whisper. "Why am I going alone? Are you leaving for somewhere else?" You grabbed his arm. "What's happening, Marcus?"

He halted, his eyes meeting yours with a gaze that was both fierce and unwavering. "I'm heading to Ostia. Octavius said that the Carthaginian fleet approached the harbor last night, and it appears they are preparing to attack the city."

A chill ran through you as dread settled in your chest. Time seemed to freeze; you felt your heart pound like a war drum. Marcus gently guided you to the bed and knelt before you, tying the laces of your sandals.

You hated this, hated being separated from him again. When will it come to an end?

Descending to the courtyard, you realize the guards had already brought his armor and sword.

"Your carriage is ready, Empress," one of the guards informed.

Marcus grasped your arm and led you toward the elegant carriage. He carefully assisted you as you stepped inside, ensuring your safety, before leaning in towards you from outside.

"Darius and the other praetorians will remain on Palatine Hill to protect you and the children. You have nothing to fear," he assured you.

You leaned closer, touching his cheek. "Promise me you will return safely." you pleaded.

"I promise," he vowed, capturing your hand in a passionate kiss.

As the carriage pulled you away from him, the world outside blurred into a swirl of colors and shadows. All that remained within was a fervent prayer—for the safety of Rome, and the man you loved.

Chapter 29: Defiance

 

Cum coerceri non potes, odio eris…

When you can't be controlled, you will be hated…

 

It was midday when Marcus arrived in Ostia, the sun blazing high above, casting sharp shadows along the stone-paved streets. On Octavius' orders, the soldiers had already readied themselves for an impending confrontation, their determined figures positioned steadfastly along the formidable ramparts that embraced the harbor like a protective embrace.

“Attention! Emperor Acacius!” rang out a voice, piercing the urgent atmosphere.

He quickly ascended the weathered stone stairs, his heart racing with the weight of duty. At the top, he joined his cousin Agrippa, their eyes meeting briefly in shared resolve before both turned to survey the foreboding fleet of enemy ships that loomed just offshore, menacingly stationed at the harbor's mouth. Marcus squinted against the glare of the sun reflecting off the water, counting the vessels with growing concern. The situation was dire, but the enemy would face challenges navigating the narrow confines of the harbor—a window of time they could use to their advantage.

“What’s the situation? How long have they been out there?” Marcus asked, his voice steady despite the tension.

Agrippa exchanged a grave glance with Octavius and turned back to Marcus. “Since dawn,” he replied, his voice low.

Marcus’s gaze shifted to the leading Carthaginian ship, larger than others, an ominous behemoth that seemed to cut through the water like a dagger. Thoughts raced through his mind.

“They're within range of our catapults,” Octavius informed. “We brought all we could muster in sufficient numbers,” he added, pride echoing in his words.

Following Octavius's gesture, Marcus took stock of their defenses.

“We also have five ballistae ready, sir,” came a voice from one of the nearby soldiers, the weight of the unspoken battles evident in his stance.

Marcus fell silent, lost in contemplation. “They still haven't made an offensive move. Clearly, they have conditions,” he murmured. “Perhaps a request.”

“A treaty?” Agrippa suggested, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Station all troops at every city gate,” Marcus commanded, urgency rising in his voice. “Have you sent word to Quintus?”

“Yes, he is already on his way, marching with his troops toward the western gates of Rome. We expect them to arrive by dawn,” Agrippa assured him.

“Good,” Marcus replied, a flicker of hope igniting within him.

Before long, a messenger from one of the ships approached, flanked by soldiers, as they sought permission to enter the harbor. A smile crept across Marcus's face, confidence surging through him as he realized he had been right about their intentions. “Let’s hear what they demand,” he declared, preparing for whatever came next with unwavering resolve.

—-

Marcus had returned to the magnificent great hall on Palatine Hill, a tradition for every emperor, to receive the Carthaginian messenger. The air was thick with tension as you stepped into the sunlit courtyard, drawn by the muffled voices within. Relief washed over you at Marcus's early return from Ostia; the expected war had not yet woven its shadows across Rome, but you still hadn’t seen him. The hall was a grand tableau of men—senators and consuls their togas, a few centurions in gleaming armors, creating an atmosphere of authority.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to witness this event and the unwritten rule that a woman’s presence was often unwelcome. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to watch from a distance, would it? With determination, you confidently followed two guards to a discreet corner behind the paraventi (screen). If Julia was able to do this frequently back then, you can do it too.

Seated upon the imperial throne, Marcus cut a striking figure, adorned in a toga woven with threads of white and gold—perhaps the most unassuming emperor to grace that seat. Even from your secluded spot, you could discern the weight of his aura; he projected a solemnity that spoke of inner conflict. He didn’t quite feel at home in the imposing hall, yet he was determined to mask his uncertainty from the impending adversary, radiating the strength expected of an emperor.

As the messenger and his entourage entered, a palpable tension filled the hall, and Marcus's expression shifted to one of hardened resolve, bordering on indifference. You recognized that look all too well; it was his chosen armor against the enemy—an inscrutable facade designed to keep his emotions locked away and his opponent on edge.

“Emperor Acacius,” the envoy addressed him, bowing slightly. The murmur of the Senate subsided, and the envoy presented a scroll, his hand steady. “I come bearing the words of the king of Carthage.”

Darius, standing beside Marcus, accepted the scroll and unsealed the parchment.

“What is your King's request?” Marcus's tone was icy.

“It is not a request but a command from our King,” the envoy retorted with an edge of anger.

A flash of tension sparked among the senators as Octavius and the praetorians instinctively gripped the hilts of their swords, their resolve manifesting in a fierce drawing of steel. The sharp clang of metal rang out, reverberating through the expansive hall like thunder.

Marcus, without casting a glance at his guards, raised a hand, halting them mid-action. The air crackled with unspoken defiance as they sheathed their swords at his command.

Still fixed on the envoy, Marcus's voice cut through the charged silence, terse and commanding. “Speak,” he said through clenched teeth, his lips forming a line of suppressed anger.

The messenger appeared visibly nervous, but he maintained a defiant expression. “Our king would like to remind you of the treaty forged between Carthage and Emperor Elagabalus, the very ruler you deposed and executed. He sends word that our fleet is merely imposing a blockade on your harbor as a warning. Should you fulfill the treaty's terms, the fleet will withdraw, and you shall be granted mercy.”

A wave of incredulity washed over the hall, eyebrows arching in mock disbelief as they exchanged incredulous glances. Marcus’s laughter shattered the tension like glass breaking. “Mercy, you say?” he scoffed, a mixture of derision and disbelief etched across his face as he shared a conspiratorial smirk with Octavius.

“Enough of this stubbornness, Emperor Acacius. Surrender the city and honor the terms of the treaty,” the messenger urged, his voice quavering slightly.

The murmuring of the consuls filled the room with a hum of uncertainty as Marcus rose to his feet, instantly commanding the attention of all present. With an air of authority, he approached the messenger, snatching the scroll from Darius’s grip. He unfolded the parchment, his eyes scanning the inscribed terms that Elagabalus himself had sealed with wax. Marcus's gaze shifted to the envoy’s anxious expression, he then tore the parchment in half, the crisp paper shredding easily beneath his fingers. The pieces fluttered to the floor like fallen leaves.

“That mutt you call Elagabalus was nothing but a traitor who boldly collaborated with the enemy, leading to the ambush of his own army. How dare you stand before me, look me in the eye, and audaciously ask me to accept the terms of this dishonorable treaty?” With firm resolve, he stepped on the scattered papers, completely unfazed by the envoy's disapproving glare. "This parchment holds no value in the eyes of the gods, nor in my own, nor in the eyes of Rome. The words of your king and every single clause of your wretched treaty are worthy only to be trampled under my feet.”

You couldn't help but snicker, feeling an immense pride for him deep in your heart. The consuls, the guards, and everyone else in the hall smiled in satisfaction, except for the envoy and his escorts. As Marcus settled back onto his throne, the envoy stepped forward, but Darius immediately raised his arm to block him.

"This is my final warning, Emperor," the man declared, his voice low but piercing. "What you are doing is sheer folly. The Carthaginian fleet has Ostia and its surrounding waters entirely encircled, and you truly don’t wish to face the might of our naval force. We know the full extent of your military capabilities and naval numbers. You must accept the treaty."

Marcus leaned back in his throne and looked away, his nonchalant demeanor mocking the envoy's anger. “What if we choose not to accept?”

The envoy tensed and looked at him aggressively and threateningly. “If you don't accept, we will first fire on your city, extend the siege to Rome and enter your capital. Your women will be our prisoners and your children our slaves.”

Just the thought of it sent a shiver down your spine. The tension in the hall had reached a deadly level, with protests and shouts echoing from every mouth.

"Impertinent!"

“How dare you!”

“What impudence!”

Marcus shot Darius a deadly glare, who then signaled the guards. They immediately seized the envoy with both arms. However, the envoy had no intention of calming down and shouted menacingly at them.

“We shall strike you like a mace!”

Octavius swung his sword in one swift motion, the sound of metal ringing in everyone's ears. "Your Highness, let me sever his wretched head from his body!" he roared.

Marcus was still staring at the messenger, unresponsive, when he raised a finger, causing Octavius to step back. Slowly, Marcus rose to his full height, his gaze shifting to Darius before glancing over his shoulder. His eyes darted to the array of weapons gleaming ominously behind him, finally settling on the heavy mace that loomed next to the swords and other deadly implements.

Curiosity bubbled within you as you watched him, and as understanding of his intentions, a thrilling mix of anxiety and anticipation surged through your veins.

“You said 'mace,' didn't you?” he murmured, his tone causing the tension in the hall to mount. When he picked up the mace, several consuls and senators got tensed and instinctively stepped back.

The messenger struggled to break free, but the guards tightened their grip on his arms, forcing him to his knees at a gesture from Marcus.

"If you were sent here, it means you are considered expendable to them."

“Don’t take it out on the messenger, Emperor Acacius,” his voice was a mix of horror and plea.

“But how can one ignore the messenger,” Marcus muttered, narrowing his eyes as he leaned in closer, his expression dark. “Who doesn’t know his place?”

The man remained silent. Marcus weighed the mace in his hand, swung it over his shoulder, and looked down at the messenger with a blank expression.  “With the gods as my witness, Rome shall not surrender. Regardless of your forces' strength or the number of allies you bring against us, it will all be for nothing. First, we will send your navy, in which you have so much faith, and all your ships to the bottom of the sea. Then...” He slid the mace from his shoulder and grasped it firmly with both hands, running his fingers along the head as if examining its intricate engraving.

The man instinctively tilted his head back, but the guards steadied him, pushing his shoulders forward.

"I will set sail with my fleet to take your city." And he deftly swung the mace's head toward the man. The heavy weight of metal hit his jaw, forcing his bones to crack. The man screamed in pain and sagged back, but the soldiers pushed him forward once more.

Watching from a distance, you instinctively put your hand to your face, closing your eyes. However, curiosity soon compelled you to look up again.

The man's head slumped forward and towards the floor as blood oozed from the corner of his mouth and the side of his jaw, dripping onto the marble floor. Octavius smiled proudly as the guards and others watched expressionlessly with their hands clasped in front of them. Some of the consuls turned their heads to the side, not daring to look at the spectacle. Marcus looked at each of them individually, then turned his mace in one hand before making another thrust with it.

"You will learn what it means to declare war on Rome and threaten the emperor and his people in his presence!"

And with a roar, he slammed the mace down on the man's head so hard that even the guards could not prevent his body from collapsing backward. You looked away, unable to face the sight before you. Marcus had deliberately swung the mace towards the other men, splattering his blood on them. They stood frozen, their fear evident. "Now go and tell your king what has happened here. If he truly has courage, let him come to the battlefield to face me!" With a dismissive wave of his hand, he sent them away from his presence.

"Hey!" Octavius called after them. "Take your friend with you," he said, pointing his sword at the lifeless, bleeding body of the man on the ground, most of his skull had crushed and splattered all over.

Yes, it had been a brutal decision to execute the messenger -by smashing his skull off- and send him back, but he had asked for it. A wave of satisfaction rippled through the hall as nearly everyone beamed with pride at Marcus. The consuls and others exchanged glances that conveyed a shared relief, convinced they had chosen a worthy leader. This sense of progress set the stage for war, and preparations swiftly took shape.

Yet, with the formidable Carthaginian fleet looming ominously over Ostia and its surrounding waters, the task ahead was daunting. Lifting the siege would not be an easy feat; it demanded meticulous planning and unwavering defense. The sheer number of enemy ships was overwhelming, casting a long shadow over any hope of immediate action.

Undeterred, Marcus, along with Octavius—whom he had chosen as his trusted general now—and the legates, put their minds together, crafting a strategic plan that would turn the tide. With determination and skill, they set the wheels in motion, ultimately breaking the siege after an arduous wait of 48 days.

Forty-eight days of hardship for you, for Rome, and for her people. Marcus was busier than ever. He was trying to do the best he could for Rome. And you were always trying to be with him in these difficult times. While he was busy with war preparations and strategy acts, you decided to deal with other problems. The biggest problem under this siege was the lack of food and fresh water. With the help of your aunt Antonia, you personally met with some officials and talked for days about how to solve this problem.

Given the current grain shortage, the most logical solution was to equalise the amount of grain received by the (patricians) nobility and the (pelebians) non-nobility. Of course, this restriction did not go down well with the patricians and some consuls and high-ranking officials. The objections grew louder over time, and some chaotic nobles began to question whether Rome was being ruled by a woman. But Marcus had put the final point, in order to drown out their voices, he supported your decision to the end and decided that this was his will. He sternly warned those who, instead of being useful to Rome in this difficult time, were spreading idle rumours and put them in their place. The people were grateful, and they respected you both more than ever. Although the rumours and slander had been quelled for the time being, you knew that the disgruntled would one day use their tongues again, but now you had to find a way out of the siege.

Fortunately, all these efforts resulted in the end of the siege with very few casualties and the Carthaginian fleet retreated with heavy losses. Everyone was happy and jubilant, the festive mood in the streets of Rome lasted for weeks, but it was not enough. Next was for Marcus to fulfil his promise, to wipe Carthage out of history.

During the years the city spent recovering from the effects of the siege, Marcus made constant plans to capture Carthage. He took his time but remained persistent and determined. He ordered the construction of a large navy and sent Octavius to the south, positioning his legions in strategic locations where Carthage had retreated. It was all part of his preparation to avenge the tens of thousands of men he had lost. The desire to conquer Carthage was as fresh in his mind as it had been on the first day.

While awaiting that day, Marcus worked to keep Rome spacious and peaceful. As the years passed, he grew accustomed to the intensity of his responsibilities, managing to find a balance between politics and military strategy. He also made sure to spend time with his family. When the stress became overwhelming, he would take you to the villa, where you both could relax together.

The years went by, and you finally began to use a real sword, though you still hadn't quite gotten used to it.  Marcus offered to teach you how to shoot arrows, and despite your initial hesitation, you quickly grew to love it. Although the sword was easier to handle, aiming accurately at a target turned out to be more difficult than expected. However, you soon realized that it was, in fact, easier than using a sword. With persistence and hard work, you became a skilled archer after several years of practice.

“Stretch... Hold... Release,” Marcus said.

You released the arrow and finally hit the deer you had been trying to hunt for hours, making contact near its neck. The animal let out a scream of pain and began to run for its life.

“Excellent shot, my lady,” he grinned.

“Marcus, it's getting away!” you wailed.

“He won't get far with that wound. Come with me,” Marcus said as he grabbed Dromos’ reins with one hand and your hand with the other, walking slowly forward.

When you reached a hill, you stopped and crouched down. “There he is,” he murmured. He tied Dromos to a tree and crouched down next to you. You both kept your eyes fixed on the deer staggering through the grass ahead.

“If you can get close enough, you can take a killing shot. But you have to be quiet,” he advised.

You nodded and followed his instructions, crouching forward. Marcus picked up his own bow and an arrow, slowly following behind you. You were careful with each step; even the slightest sound could send the animal running. After what felt like an eternity, you were finally close enough. You carefully threaded your arrow into your bow and drew it taut. But suddenly, the deer turned its head and looked directly at you with its beautiful dark eyes. For a moment, your heart clenched, and you loosened your bow, lowering it.

“What happened? Why didn’t you shoot?” Marcus whispered urgently, confusion lacing his voice. “You were in a perfect position. You had a good chance.”

“I... I think I've given up. I don't want to kill him,” you mumbled.

Marcus sighed and gently stroked your cheek. “If you're not going to shoot him...” He drew his own arrow and aimed at the deer.

“Marcus, don't!” you said quietly, but he didn't look at you. He was focused on the deer. In a desperate attempt to stop him, you bent down, pushed his bow aside with one hand, and kissed his cheek to surprise him. It worked; he didn’t have a chance to release his arrow. The noise you made startled the deer, and it jumped away, disappearing into the bushes. Marcus grunted in frustration.

“Aaah, I almost had him,” he grumbled at you.

"It's my prey, isn't it? I decide whether it lives or dies," you said with a playful stubbornness. He squinted at you. "Looks like you'll have to find other prey, my emperor," you added, placing your arrow back in the quiver with the others.

Suddenly he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you, pressing you against him, which made you gasp. "I've already found it," he said, whispering in your ear. He then turned you over and laid you down on the grass.

"Marcus, wait! What are you doing?" you asked, giggling as the grass and flowers brushed against your arm, tickling your skin.

He leaned closer to you, one hand supporting your neck and the other resting on the ground beside you.

"I caught a beautiful gazelle," he said huskily, grasping your wrist. "Do stay still."

You playfully hit his arm. "You must be out of your mind! The guards might still be around," you whispered, glancing around with unease, your heart racing at the thought of being discovered.

"Who cares?" he replied with a carefree grin. "They won’t come here anyway. I told them to wait down the hill by the path," he assured and kissed you.

You felt your lungs constrict at the idea, and you forced yourself to take a deep breath. You tried to pull your mouth free to protest but he pressed his lips more firmly, swallowing your tiny cries. He gave you no control, and you knew what was coming. Once the shock had worn off you were overpowered by sensations licking through you. You were breathless and turned your head the little bit he allowed.

“Marcus,” you breathed out, feeling him shower your cheek with wet kisses, slowly working his way down the pulsating veins of your neck. Panting, you felt him draw your legs up around his waist. “Are we really going to do this here?” you whispered, feeling your heart pound, your body drenching in desire.

He removed his lips from your neck and returned his hands to your face, meeting your eyes.

“You want this too, do you not?” he murmured, his warm breath trailing across your skin like a gentle breeze.

“Don’t you think it’s a little strange? We have a grand bed waiting for us in the palace, remember?”

“But the children never give us a moment’s peace,” he replied, his voice low and urgent, as he continued to press passionate kisses along your neck, each one igniting a spark of desire. “Think of it as a little escapade.”

“But I’m covered in grass and dirt,” you protested.

“It only heightens the thrill,” he said with a mischievous grin, his fingers gracefully reaching for the hem of your dress, brushing against your skin like a whisper.

“I’m not excited at all,” you teased, a smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

His large, skilled hand went beneath the cloth, reaching through to between your legs, brushing over your already wet folds. "It is wrong to lie to your Emperor, my Empress.” He said teasingly.

His mouth came down on yours again, delaying your ability to think or respond. Placing his knee between your legs, he pulled them towards him, spreading them wide.

When he noticed the tension on your face, he gently wrapped his arms around you, his mouth near your ear, pulling your hair aside. “Calm yourself, my love. I know you want this as much as I do, so relax and give yourself to me fully.”

You nodded, stopped overthinking, and surrendered yourself to him, allowing his desire to consume you. He has captured your lips once more, his kisses more greedy, more eager, and hungrier than before. In the heart of the woods, surrounded by lush green grass and rich, dark soil, you yearned for this desire between you to endure eternally as he claimed you as his own, making you his. With each soft rustle of the leaves and the faint murmur of the wind weaving through the trees, the jubilant songs of birds serenaded your love. You wanted for the days to pass and the years to accumulate just like this, yet you wished that the passionate flame of that first moment would endure, glowing as brightly and intoxicatingly as ever—a timeless ember igniting the depths of your souls.

—-

When you returned to the palace, the sun was casting its warm, golden tones over Palatine Hill, signaling the day's slow retreat into dusk. The air was crisp, and the shadows lengthened as the evening sky began to transform into hues of orange and violet. The guards who escorted you dismounted first, their armor glinting in the torchlight.

Though you had honed your skills as a rider over the years, Marcus—ever the gentleman—insisted on helping you as you prepared to dismount. He gracefully swung off his own horse and stepped towards you. You placed your hand on his shoulder and jumped down. They guided your horses to the stables. Marcus was looking at you, his fingers gently moving through your hair, lovingly brushing away the bits of dirt and stray leaves that had caught in the strands during your intense moments back there.

You strolled hand in hand toward the enchanting courtyard of Domus Severiana. The soft glow of lamps began to flicker to life, and the sound of laughter echoed joyously within the stone walls.

“They’re back!”

“Father!”

“Mother!”

The bright voices of Marcius and Flora rang out, full of excitement as they rushed toward you. Marcus bent low, opening his arms wide to welcome them. “My son,” he said fondly, planting a gentle kiss on Marcius’s cheek, his eyes sparkling with pride. He then turned to Flora, his little princess, and enveloped her in a warm embrace, kissing the top of her head. You, too, leaned down and pressed a kiss onto Flora’s silky hair, feeling the love swell in your heart.

“How was the hunt? What did you catch? A boar? A deer? Or a lion?” Marcius inquired, his eyes alight with curiosity and excitement as he bounced on his feet.

Marcus chuckled. “A lion? There are absolutely no such creatures in our forests, my son.”

“Mother, your dress is soiled, and you have leaves in your hair,” Flora noted, her brow furrowing in concern as she inspected you.

A warm blush crept over your cheeks, causing you to shyly avert your gaze.

“Then you must have hunted something truly magnificent!” Marcius clapped his hands with glee.

With a playful wink at you, Marcus responded, “Actually, your mother had the chance to hunt a deer, but she chose to spare him.” He gently placed them down to stand on their own.

“Why, Mother?” Marcius’s voice quivered with exaggerated disappointment.

"I am sorry, my son," you said with a smile.

“Your mother is incredibly compassionate, Marcius. Her heart is as beautiful as she is,” Marcus said, looking at you with an intense gaze.

You felt warmth bloom in your chest at his words, a tender smile gracing your lips.

“But you let the deer escape?” Marcius asked.

Marcus leaned down, placing his hand on Marcius's shoulder. "At times, showing mercy is a powerful and honorable act. It reflects strength, not weakness, and reveals the true depth of your character.”

Marcius thought for a moment and then nodded. "Can we go together next time, please?"

"Ah, little bear, you need to grow up a bit more first," Marcus replied with a teasing smile. "Have you had any sword practice today?"

"Of course I did!" Marcius exclaimed.

"Where's Publius?" you asked, looking around.

Marcius grimaced. "I bet he's busy reading the old scrolls again."

"You're just jealous because he learned to read before you," Flora chimed in with a mischievous giggle, a playful imitation of your own laughter that always seemed to light up Marcus's face.

"Not at all! You're a liar!" Marcius shot back,

"Now, now, Marcius. You can't treat your sister like that. You mustn't raise your voice," Marcus warned him gently.

"You've been so focused on your sword training that you still haven't learned to read. How about taking some time for that too?" you asked, looking at him.

Marcius huffed, casting a sideways glance at his father, as if seeking support.

"Don't give me that look," Marcus replied. "Your mother is right. Being a good fighter isn't just about mastering the gladius; it’s also about being wise and knowledgeable. How will you send messages to your legions if you can’t read or write?"

"Send a message? With a messenger pigeon?" Marcius's eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Yes, exactly. If you're interested, I'll take you to the barracks tomorrow. You can see it for yourself," Marcus offered.

"That would be wonderful, Father!" he squealed, launching himself into his father's arms. Marcus embraced him warmly and lifted him up. You took Flora by the hand, and together, you led them to your chambers before you and Marcus headed to the balneum.

.—-

You woke with the sun filtering through the curtains, casting soft golden hues on the walls. A tightness in your stomach stirred you from sleep, prompting you to leap out of bed and rush to the latrina. The nausea and changes in your body, lingering for several days, solidified your growing suspicions. Instinctively, you cradled your stomach with both hands, a smile blossoming on your face as you savored the joy of a familiar and wonderful sensation returning.

As you made your way back to the room, you noticed the bed was empty—Marcus was already up. Either he had risen well before dawn or you had lost track of time. You opened the door, calling for the slaves, who quickly came to assist in dressing you. Their hurried whispers confirmed your surprise; it was already late, nearly noon. Once they had helped you into a beautiful red stola adorned with golden ornaments, you settled into the chair and let them style your hair.

“Mother!” The sound of Flora’s bright voice rang like a bell, and your heart soared as you turned to her. She dashed toward you, her laughter echoing in the room as she clambered into your lap.

“My love,” you said, kissing the soft crown of her head. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, mother,” she beamet. “You know, I dreamt I saw a flying horse!”

“A flying horse? Like a Pegasus? How magical!” you said with a wide smile.

“Yes! It was just like the Pegasus on my father’s ring! But it was enormous! And I was riding that horse, mother!”

“Oh, that must have been a beautiful dream, my little dove. Speaking of your father, have you seen him today?”

“Yes, he’s in the courtyard now,” she said, a mischievous smile creeping across her face, making you curious.

After they placed your crown on your head, you thanked them. And together with Flora you strolled toward the courtyard, the sound of Marcus's voice growing clearer. As you drew closer, the scene unfolded before you, surprising you at first and then drawing laughter from your lips.

Publius, Marcius and Octavius’ and Decima's son Gnaeus were lined up in a line like soldiers. Each boy was nearly the same height, but it was Marcius, the largest, who captured your attention even from a distance. He was a miniature version of Marcus—his father—down to the tiniest detail, exuding the same commanding presence in both demeanor and appearance. Marcus, their commander, instructed them with an air of authority, teaching them how to become a good soldier.

A sigh escaped your lips as you took in the scene; when had they grown so big? The day you welcomed Marcius and Flora into the world felt like a fleeting memory. Lost in these thoughts, you suddenly heard Flora's laughter spiraling through the air as she dashed toward her father. The moment Marcus noticed her, his serious expression softened, transforming into a radiant smile.

"My lady," he greeted her playfully.

"My Emperor," Flora greeted him back respectfully, her behavior so endearing that you giggled.

"At ease," Marcus instructed, casting a measured glance at the boys. He was tender with his daughter, but he adopted a more disciplined tone with the boys, embodying the role of their strict commander, even though he was having a hard time not laughing.

"Father, can I be a soldier too? Please, please!" Flora begged.

Marcus smiled. "Well, if you desire it so much, step into line with them, little princess."

"Yay!" she squealed, her joy infectious.

With a playful wink directed at you, Marcus straightened up and turned to the children. "Soldier, attention!"

At his command, they all snapped into a mock soldier’s stance, though Flora was just a beat behind, her movements adorably clumsy.

"Well done," Marcus praised, striding ahead of them, hands clasped behind his back, his mouth curling into an amused smirk as he met the gazes of each boy one by one.

"Now everyone, take your swords in your right hand and make two laps around the courtyard. March!"

Instantly, the boys sprang into action, enthusiasm propelling them forward. Flora, however, pouted. "But I don't have a sword, Father!"

You reached down and picked up one of the wooden swords lying on the ground. "Here you go, bunny," you said, handing it to her. 

“Thank you, Mother!” she chirped, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she grabbed the sword. It was slightly too heavy for her tiny frame, yet she managed to grip it tightly and took off running, her long golden hair cascading behind her like a shimmering waterfall.

Their voices and laughter echoed through the courtyard, even the slaves and guards smiling at their joy.

Marcus beckoned them to run faster before moving to your side. "Sol meus (my sun), the day is brighter now that you are awake," he said softly, brushing your cheek with his fingers.

"Apologies, I woke up a little late," you said shyly.

“Are you alright, my love?” he asked, his brow furrowed as he searched your face. “I hope you’re not unwell or anything.”

You took his hand—warm and gentle, resting against your cheek—and cradled it between both of yours before kissing it softly. “I’m well, Marcus. There’s nothing to worry about.” You guided his hand to your belly. “If my hunches are correct, another little soldier is on the way to join your little army.”

Marcus seemed to freeze, trying to comprehend your words, and then a radiant smile broke across his face, illuminating his features. He cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours in a kiss. Before you could say anything, he swept you into his arms.

“Marcus! What are you doing with the children watching?” you exclaimed, a playful protest slipping from your lips.

"What a blessed day this is! I'm going to be a father again!" he said, the joy in his voice sounding like a clarion call as he spun you around.

The children, witnessing the scene with wide eyes, paused in their tracks. They exchanged glances, their curiosity piqued, before settling on the two of you with fascination. Gently, Marcus lowered you to your feet and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “My beautiful wife, my breath, my everything,” he murmured, his voice a deep, soothing melody. “You have brightened my day yet again, adding vibrant life to my existence.” His forehead rested against yours. As you opened your eyes, you noticed the children watching you intently, their expressions a blend of bewilderment and wonder. “Marcus…” you began, casting a glance in their direction.

He pulled back slightly and turned to face them, his warm smile now directed at the little ones.

“What do you mean, becoming a father again?” Flora murmured, her head tilting to one side. “Aren’t you already a father?”

“No, silly, that’s not quite what he meant,” Marcius said.

Marcus gestured for them to come closer, opening his arms invitingly. “I will be a father again because soon you will have a sibling,” he explained. “That’s what your mother just told me, and that’s why I’m filled with such joy. Do you understand now?”

“So, I’m going to be a big sister?” Flora asked, her eyes wide.

Marcus beamed down at her. “Yes, my sweet princess.”

“Wonderful! I hope it’s a girl! I can share my hairpins with her!” she exclaimed, her hands clapping together in delight.

You and Marcus exchanged laughter. “I hope so too, my darling,” he agreed.

“It should be a boy; having a brother to teach sword fighting would be splendid!” Marcius said.

“No, it will be a girl, Marcius! There are enough boys around here!” Flora retorted, tugging playfully at his hair. With laughter sparking between them, he leaped into action, chasing her across the courtyard.

“Oh, please don’t fight, children!” you protested. Marcius grabbed Flora and started tickling her, their laughter and shouts echoing throughout the courtyard, their joy mingling in the air like a beautiful melody.

“I hope it’s a girl,” Marcus whispered, tilting his head towards you.

“Don’t let Marcius hear you wish for that,” you said with a chuckle.

Marcus wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Well, we can always make another one,” he teased.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

With a casual shrug, he pursed his lips in mock contemplation. “For Marcius, of course."

You nudged him with your elbow, your cheeks flushing.

Then Publius caught your attention. He was standing apart from the others, looking sad. You approached him, crouched down, and took his hands. “What is it, my dear? Do you want to tell me?”

“I’ll never have a sibling, will I, Aunt Aurelia?”

In that moment, your heart squeezed painfully, and tears blurred your vision. “Oh, Publius, my sweet darling. That’s simply not true.” You felt an overwhelming urge to comfort him.

“We're your family, Publius, "Marcus said. "Marcius, Flora, and any future siblings will be your brothers and sisters, too."

“Your uncle is absolutely right, my little dove. You are my son, just like Marcius—there is no difference between you two. You are incredibly precious to your Uncle Marcus and to me. Please, don’t ever doubt that.”

Publius nodded, his expression softening as hope began to flicker in his eyes.

“Now, come here and give your aunt a hug.”

He did as you said and hugged you tightly. You tried to hold back your sobs as you held him close and your fingers ran along his golden hair, inhaling his sweet scent. “I love you so much, Publius. I always will.”

——

One serene afternoon, after paying your respects to Geta and your father in the solemn quiet of the tombs, a slave approached you bearing a letter from Lucius. He had returned to Alexandria sometime after the siege was lifted and wrote to you from time to time. In his letter, he mentioned that he had resumed his work as a medicus in the Valetudinarium. You replied, suggesting that perhaps you and Marcus could visit him in the coming years.

After finishing your reply, you strolled through the sun-dappled courtyard. It was then that you caught sight of Decima. She was with her second child, and given her condition, her visits were infrequent. Seeing her, with her rounded belly catching the light, filled you with both surprise and joy.

“Decima,” you called out, your voice warm as you approached her, gently placing the torch back on the stone wall.

“Your Highness,” she greeted you with a soft smile that didn't quite mask the worry etched in her features.

“Whatever brings you here at this hour must be important,” you said, extending your arm to envelop her in a reassuring embrace, feeling the weight of her concerns.

“I’m a little nervous about tomorrow morning, and I miss you,” she confessed, forcing a smile that faltered, revealing the strain in her voice.

With her arm linked in yours, you wandered into the lush garden, fragrant with blooming flowers and alive with the song of chirping birds.

“You’re worried about Octavius, aren’t you?” you asked gently.

The looming decision of the council hung heavy in the air; they had determined just last week that the Roman army would set out at dawn to seize the storied city of Carthage. You understood her anxiety well, for your own heart was heavy with unease, yet confidence blossomed within you that Marcus would return to you safely.

“Come now, dear, don’t dwell on worry. They will return safe and sound, I assure you,” you offered,

“This is Octavius’s first mission outside of Rome as a general,” she murmured, her brow furrowed with concern.

“And he will come back to you in triumph,” you replied with conviction.

“Are you not concerned? Emperor Acacius will lead the army himself, even though he has the option to stay behind. While I’m glad he’ll be beside Octavius, I can’t help but worry about you. After all, you’re in the same situation as I am,” she said, glancing at your belly.

"Of course I am concerned, but I trust them. They will come back victorious, as always."

Decime paused. "Considering what happened to the fleet in those waters last time..."

You touched her shoulders. "There are no more traitors in our army, no more betrayers to lay traps. The Carthaginians suffered a heavy defeat before they retreated. Their city is defenseless, and believe me, our men will capture it and return to us as soon as possible."

"I pray so," she said, wiping away her tears.

You took a moment to glance at her, noting the unmistakable curve of her belly. "Are you close to giving birth?" you inquired softly.

"Yes, two months, the midwife said."

"I want you to stay here while Octavius is away. No objections," you said, gently touching her cheek. "Besides, the children are happy to be here together."

She nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Aurelia," she said, wrapping her arms around you in a heartfelt embrace.

After she left, it began to get dark as you made your way to the great hall. But you learned that Marcus was in the Field of Mars, likely busy with final preparations. So you turned back to find the children. After having dinner with them, you reminded them that it was time for bed, which led to the usual whining. Publius wanted to sleep in the same bed as Marcius and Flora, just as he usually did. Once you settled the three of them into bed, they began bombarding you with questions about their baby brother or sister. Although it was challenging, you patiently answered their questions, happy to see them so excited.

Fortunately, the children were so tired that they fell asleep soon after getting into bed. You tucked them in with the bedcovers while the servants busied themselves gathering their clothes to wash. You kissed them on the forehead, just like you did every night. The door opened, and the slaves stood and greeted Marcus.

You nodded slightly, "They’ve been so tired today; they haven’t paused to sit down for a moment."

Marcus let out a wistful sigh, "What a lovely sight. I can watch them sleep until the morning light breaks," he said, wrapping his strong arms around your waist from behind, pulling you closer into his warmth.

"Me too," you whispered.

His lips found your cheek, brushing against your skin with a gentle hum, while his beard tickled you blissfully. "Are you well, my love? I hope this day hasn’t drained you too much," he murmured, one of his hands hovering protectively over your stomach.

"I’m fine, we’re fine," you replied. "What about you? Are the preparations finalized?"

With a tender gaze, he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyebrow. "It appears so. The fleet is ready. We set sail at first light."

“I prayed for the army and for you,” you murmured, turning to meet his gaze, your arms wrapping around his neck. "I know you will take that city and return to me victorious, my love."

He inclined his head toward you, brushing his lips against the tip of your nose, a gesture both sweet and intimate. "Rest assured, I will, my lady," he promised, kissing your cheek softly, his lips lingering, his hot breath licking your skin. "Until dawn breaks, your face is the only one I wish to see, and your voice is the only melody I yearn to hear." His fingers intertwined with yours and he pressed a gentle kiss to your palm, sending a rush of warmth through you, igniting butterflies that danced in your stomach. Yes, even after all these years, his touch still stirred a whirlwind of emotions within you. Just like that first day, it never grows old, never feels enough, and always leaves you longing for more.

“Then take your empress in your arms and carry me to our bed, my love," you whispered, your voice a seductive invitation.

As soon as the words slipped from your lips, he captured you in a passionate kiss, his arms lifting you effortlessly as he hastened to carry you to the sanctuary of your chambers, the world outside fading away as you succumbed to the magic of the moment.

—-

In the soft embrace of dawn, you stirred to the gentle heat of Marcus's hand resting on your stomach. He had risen before you, his fingers delicately tracing the subtle curve just below your abdomen, the tender swell of your pregnant belly. As your eyes fluttered open, he lowered himself to plant a soft kiss on your lips, igniting a spark that lingered in the air. You gazed into each other's eyes, a moment suspended in time, reminiscent of past farewells. This would be the final precious moment before his departure.

Just as he had done during many separations, Marcus studied your face meticulously, committing every detail to memory — the curve of your cheek, the flutter of your eyelashes, the softness of your lips. His eyes searched yours with an intensity that spoke volumes, resonating with an unspoken love that echoed through your very being. Yet, time was merciless; it rushed onward, determined to pull you apart.

After sharing a lingering, passionate kiss, he rose from the bed, and you remained seated, the soft linen sheet slipping around your waist. Your breath caught as you took in the contours of Marcus's body, each muscle and line as familiar and enchanting as the day he had entered your life. The thought of his absence sent a wave of ache through you, knowing he would miss you as fiercely as you would miss him.

"We've endured so many separations and reunions..." you murmured, emotion threading through your voice. "But still... it's so hard..."

He slipped into a burgundy tunic, richly embroidered and draping gracefully than before. "It certainly is," he echoed your sentiment, the words barely escaping his lips like a gentle whisper.

"Wouldn't you like to take a bath before you leave?" you asked.

He ran his fingers through his hair, tousling it casually, then made his way back to the edge of the bed, where he sat beside you. His hand glided slowly over your bare skin, traversing up to your waist, igniting shivers of warmth that coursed through your body. You surrendered to the soft overwhelming touch, wanting to engrave this moment in your memory, capturing it against the inevitable loneliness to come.

"I want to carry the sweet scent of your skin with me," he murmured, his voice deep and melodic.

"Then I won’t bathe either," you replied playfully, tracing your fingertip along the edge of his eyebrow to his chin. "I cherish the little reminders of you left on my skin."

He smirked. "You should, my lady, for I promise to leave new ones when I return." And with that, his lips found yours again, igniting a passionate kiss that lingered like the dawn itself, full of promise and shadowed with the sadness of parting.

——

Stepping into the bustling morning light together, you quickly realized the children were already awakened, their laughter echoing through the halls. The moment they spot you, a rush of excitement propelled them forward, their little feet pattering against the stone floor. Marcus led them to the armory, an impressive room filled with shining armor and weapons, where they gazed up in awe as their father was wearing his armor; they asked him so many questions.

“I want to come with you and fight the enemy, Father,” Marcius said.

“Not ‘Father!’ You must say ‘my Emperor,’” Flora interjected.

Marcus chuckled heartily, pulling Marcius into his strong embrace and planting a tender kiss on his cheek. “Of course, you will face many battles in time, my son. But for now, your place is here, keeping watch over your mother and sister. You carry the mantle of the eldest man in the family after me. Do you understand?”

Marcius beamed with pride and nodded earnestly. “Yes, sir!”

Planting another kiss on his son, Marcus extended his arms wide to Flora, who triumphantly leaps into them. “My beautiful flower, my sweet girl,” he whispers, cradling her as if she were the sun itself.

Flora giggled, her laughter ringing bright like chimes in the breeze. “Come back soon, Father, please? Otherwise, our mother will be so sad without you.”

As they turned their gazes toward you, a heavy sigh escaped your lips. "I guess we can’t hide everything from you little ones," you murmured.

With an assuring kiss on her forehead, Marcus promised, “I’ll do my utmost to return quickly, my beautiful daughter. I swear it.” He kissed her again before gently setting her down. Then, he enfolded Publius in a warm embrace.

"Return safely, Uncle Acacius.” he said.

He nodded, and after he rubbed his head gently, he shifted his gaze to you, and you both stepped out of the grandeur of the armory into the sun-drenched courtyard. Just then, Darius and Octavius arrived, accompanied by Decima and Gnaeus.

The children immediately blend together, their laughter echoing just like previous day.

“You have asked Decima to stay in my absence, my lady. I am most grateful,” Octavius said, bowing deeply.

“Don’t mention it, Octavius,” you replied with a smile.

Marcus shifted his attention to Darius, “I have no doubt you will protect your Empress and the children in my absence, Darius.”

“With my life, your highness,” Darius replied, a resolute hand pressed against his chest as he bowed his head with solemnity. “May you return in triumph. Vae victis.”

“Vae victis,” Marcus repeated, a thoughtful nod punctuating his words.

Then the slaves brought his shawl and placed the soft fabric over his shoulders, billowing like a gentle breeze. You stepped forward, hand outstretched, requesting the brooch from their grasp. "I'll do it," you said, your voice steady yet fervent. As Marcus watched you intently, you took his brooch and skillfully threaded the pin through the rich fabric of the shawl, fastening it securely.

Over the years, the slaves and guards had come to admire the bond between you and Marcus—a connection that felt more like a passionate romance than the expected decorum of an emperor and empress. Rumors of your rekindled marriage continued to circulate through the streets of Rome and reached distant lands, lingering even after five years had passed. This is why the slaves and others now recognized the strength of your bond, and it no longer surprised them when you acted like an ordinary couple or when you showed kindness toward them. They were more than happy to serve you and your children.

“If I hadn’t been carrying our child, I would have come with you,” you murmured.

“Being on the battlefield isn't the same as hunting deer in the woods, my lady. Besides, I need to know that you’re safe here,” he responded, his grip on your hand firm. “And who says you’re not coming with me?” He placed your hand over his heart. “You’re right here, with me."

Your heart swelled, and you nodded, tears glistening in your eyes. “Come back to me safely.”

He lifted your hand to his lips, kissing it with a tenderness that sealed his promise. “You have my word.”

The moment of departure hung heavy in the air, charged with unspoken emotions.

You walked alongside Decima, the sunlight cascading down as you followed them to the outside. When they mounted their horses, their figures silhouetted against the vibrant sky, you felt a mix of pride and longing. As they rode away from the Palatine Hill, the people of Rome emerged from their homes, filling the streets with cheers of admiration and fervent prayers, their voices rising like a chorus in the wind.

——

It had been more than a few weeks since the Roman fleet had set sail, determined to besiege the city of Carthage. Each day, the citizens of Rome, along with countless others, filled the grand temples with fervent prayers, beseeching the gods for the army's swift victory, yearning for the joyous news to grace their ears at any moment.

Before his departure, Marcus chose your cousin Paulina's husband as his regent. He held one of the highest positions in the Council and managed all necessary affairs during Marcus's absence. Almost every day, he visited you on Palatine Hill to seek your opinion on various matters. You weren't entirely sure how willing you were to assist him, but it seemed Marcus had given him strict instructions. In fact, you were a little surprised by this choice; you believed Marcus trusted Senator Gracchus more than him. However, Marcus must have had his reasons, and you witnessed that none of his decisions as emperor had been misguided—each one had proven sound.

You had to admit that although he initially struggled as a soldier, Marcus quickly adapted to running the empire, and you admired his ability to manage it successfully. The people were thriving, happy, and hopeful—more so than during Geta's short reign. In some circles, this happiness led to speculative rumors. One rumor suggested that Marcus should continue to lead the empire without handing it over to Publius, while others argued that he should leave it to his own son, Marcius.

Of course, these were weak rumors, not to be taken seriously or even considered. But there were also ugly rumors. Some claimed that Publius was the son of Elagabalus, not of Geta, and that he did not deserve the throne. You were too angry to ignore this; you couldn't understand how anyone could dishonor Geta's memory. You had sent Darius to find out the source of these rumors, but he had been investigating for a year and had found nothing useful. Marcus had told you not to worry about it, but you couldn't help it. Publius was too precious to you.

One afternoon, on the banks of the Tiber, you took the children out of the palace to get some fresh air. You were sitting in a meadow with Decima and Paulina, chatting, while the children played and ran around merrily. Slaves attended to your needs, and a few guards were positioned at the entrance to the woods for your safety. You were discussing Decima's growing belly, as her due date was approaching. Flora and Paulina's daughter sat beside you, while the boys were, of course, on the move. You sighed as you looked at them. “Look at my Marcius; he hasn't sat down since he got up this morning,” you said with a giggle. “His father calls him a little bear, but I think he's more like a rabbit.”

You all laughed together.

"I guess men are the same at any age," Decima said.

Paulina grinned. "Should I consider myself lucky to have two daughters, then, my ladies?"

"You certainly are," you replied, chuckling as you caught sight of Flora, who was struggling with her tangled hair. You beckoned her over.

"Looks like I’m going to have another boy," Decima said, gently cradling her swollen belly, the movement hinting at the little life kicking inside. "He’s quite a kicker." 

You laughed, memories flooding back as you smoothed out Flora’s messy braid. "Don’t be too sure, dear. When Flora was in my belly, it felt like a battlefield, with all the tumbling, kicking and turning!" 

Flora frowned, tilting her head. "I must protest, Mother. I never kicked you." 

You laughed heartily. "Oh, you can ask your father when he returns; he is my witness."

"I'm sorry, Mother. Did I hurt you?"

You leaned over and kissed her. "No, never, my love."

"My empress!"

All of you turned your heads as a guard approached. Your heart fluttered with excitement when you saw the small piece of message paper in his hand, and you jumped to your feet.

"Is it what I think it is?"

"Good news, my lady. Our glorious army is returning in triumph!"

You instinctively clasped both hands together and thanked the gods. You smiled at Decima and Paulina; they were just as happy as you were.

"Does that mean my father is coming back, Mother?" Flora asked.

You bent down, embraced her, and sat on the ground. "Yes, darling."

"My father is coming back! I'll go tell Marcius and Publius!" she exclaimed and ran off to find them.

"Don't run too fast!" you shouted behind her.

"Thank the gods," Decima said with a deep sigh.

You smiled at her, the corners of your mouth lifting in uncontained joy as you delicately lifted the string wrapped around the parchment and slowly unfolded it.

"My beloved Empress, I have taken Carthage in the glorious name of Rome, and I return to you in triumph, fulfilling my promise. May your beautiful eyes always seek the horizon. Our reunion is just ahead. 

Yours, 

Marcus."

Although you had vowed not to cry, joyful tears streamed down your cheeks, glistening like morning dew. Pressing the paper fiercely to your heart, a wave of warmth washed over you.

“Thank all the gods, they’re coming back safe and sound,” Decima said softly, her hand gently patting your arm, a gesture of comfort in this moment of uncertainty.

“Yes, my dear. Oh how relieved I am,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion.

“I wish you an instant reunion,” Paulina added, her smile sincere.

Yet, amidst the swell of love and excitement, a sinking feeling gripped your heart suddenly. Your children were no longer in sight. You assumed they had simply strayed a little farther in their playful exploration, but the eerie silence set your nerves on edge.

“Children,” you murmured, a sense of urgency building in your chest.

“They were just here,” Decima said, her gaze darting anxiously around the area.

You sprang to your feet, your pulse quickening as you turned to the slaves nearby. “Didn’t you see where they went?” you asked.

“They were running through the woods, your Highness. I just sent one of the slaves after them,” she stammered, beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead.

As you scanned the surroundings, your stomach dropped when you noticed that the guards who had been stationed there earlier were now absent. A sense of dread washed over you. Then, slicing through the air like a dagger, a piercing scream echoed—it was Flora’s voice, unmistakable and filled with terror.

“Flora!” you shouted, your feet moving before your mind could catch up, racing towards the sound of desperation.

“Aurelia!” Decima called out, her voice trailing behind you as panic set in.

“My Lady!"

"Wait for me, Aurelia!”

But nothing mattered but the need to reach your daughter. Every heartbeat echoed in your ears as you ran, urgency fueling your speed. When you finally reached her, the scene was chilling. The guards lay still on the ground, their faces pale and devoid of life, yet bafflingly, there was no trace of blood. Flora and Genurs stood nearby, seemingly untouched, but Marcius and Publius were nowhere to be found.

You gripped Flora’s shoulders, searching her wide eyes for answers. “What happened here, Flora?” "Mother, men on horseback in black cloaks and masks have took Publius. Marcius ran after them."

You froze but you had to think fast. One of the guards came to his senses and immediately stood up. "Your Highness, forgive me; they came out of nowhere—"

"I don’t want to hear it!" you barked, furious. Turning to the slaves, you instructed, "Stay with the children and the others." Without hesitation, you began running toward the horses.

You ordered one of the guards to send word to Darius at once. Then you ordered the other to come with you, and you galloped off in the direction Flora had indicated. Your bow and pugio were secured on Unio's saddle, and you felt ready to use them if necessary, but you were afraid of being too late.

Soon, you reached Marcius on the path and stopped your horse. He was flanked by two mounted guards.

"Marcius, my son!"

"Mother!"

"Are you alright?" you asked examining his face.

"They took Publius, Mother. I ran fast, but I couldn't catch up."

You patted his shoulder. "My brave boy. You did what you could. Now go back to your sister. I'll find him."

"Let me come with you!"

"No, it’s too dangerous." You looked at the guards, your mind racing. "One of you will take him back at once, and the other will accompany me. Now!"

"My lady, it’s dangerous for you too—" one of the guards protested, concern etched on his face.

You silenced him with a sharp glare, "I said now!"

Obediently, one guard took Marcius and turned back down the path, while you set off in the opposite direction,

"If they went in this direction, I believe they’re heading for Ostia, my lady," said one of the guards riding alongside you, urgency in his voice.

"They want to take him away," you murmured, your thoughts a whirlwind of dread. But who was behind this sinister plot? Why would they do such a thing? Could it be the Greeks? Anxiety gripped your heart as you urged your horse to gallop faster. You could never allow them to take him—not now, not ever.

—-

Chapter 30: In Aeternum et Ultra

Familia ante omnia

Family over all...

 

As you galloped forward on your horse, Unio, the fabric of your stola danced wildly in the wind, creating a constant struggle against the air that tugged at your dress. The jewelry you wore felt like it might slip from you at any moment, but you had no intention of stopping, no matter what. The guards accompanying you were more concerned about your well-being than about reaching Publius on time. They knew you were with child, as your belly was visibly prominent, and they feared what Marcus would do to them if anything happened to you. Yet your worries were not only for the fragile life nestled inside you; they were also intertwined with a deep protectiveness toward Publius, your beloved child. The thought of jeopardizing his safety was simply inconceivable.

When you arrived at the port of Ostia and passed through the streets, the locals looked at you with curiosity and surprise, many greeting you as you went by. But you could only glance at them out of the corner of your eye. Your heart soared at the sight of Darius ahead, a swell of joy washing over you as your eyes landed on Publius standing beside him. Overwhelmed with concern, you dismounted carelessly and landed awkwardly, tripping as your stola caught on Unio’s saddle. The loyal creature whinnied as if it were worried about you, and you fell to the ground.

"My lady!" 

"Your Highness!" 

Suddenly, everyone gathered around you anxiously; the guards jumped off their horses, and people from the harbour rushed to your side. Darius was holding Publius' hand as he approached you.

"Aunt Aurelia!"

You struggled to push yourself off the cold, hard stone floor, using your palm for support and turned your head to the sound of his voice. As the guards helped you to your feet, a sharp pain shot through your ankle, probably from the fall, but you made your way to Publius anyway.

"Publius, my love!" you cried out, opening your arms wide. He ran to you, and you embraced him, kissing the top of his head. Then you took his face in both hands, examining him for any sign of injury.

"Are you alright, darling?"

He nodded. "Darius saved me," he said, pointing at him. Just as your heart began to settle, you turned to Darius and felt a sharp flutter of unease wash over you when you noticed men in black cloaks being restrained by guards behind him.

You stepped toward them, gripping Publius' small hand tightly, but a sharp pain surged through your ankle once more, causing you to stumble. Darius quickly approached, concern etched across his face. "My lady, are you alright? Let me help you," he said, extending his arm toward you. You grasped it, but your gaze remained fiercely locked on the men before you.

“Darius, are these the scoundrels who tried to abduct my son?” you asked.

"Yes, my lady. We apprehended them just before they could board one of the ships," he replied.

As you glared at them, Darius continued. "I have been pursuing the rumors as you requested. Upon further investigation, I identified the Greeks' involvement, aligning perfectly with your predictions. I sensed an impending attack today, which is why I was prepared and had my men ready as well. We intercepted them just in time."

Your eyes widened in disbelief as you processed his words. "Did they know we would be outside Palatine Hill today? If the threat was so imminent, why didn’t you warn me?"

Darius lowered his head, his posture tense. "My lady, I needed to confirm my suspicions before informing you. We had taken all necessary precautions around the harbor. I would never intentionally endanger you or your children, yet I understand that’s no excuse. You are right; I ask for your forgiveness."

You squinted, grappling with your anger. "What was it you needed to confirm? Speak plainly."

He let out a troubled sigh, the weight of his revelations pressing heavily on him. "During my investigation, my men and I became convinced that someone was aiding the Greeks. Regrettably, it’s someone in a position of authority—a member of the Roman Senate."

"What?! Who is it?"

Darius hesitated, unease clouding his features as he met your gaze.

"Say it, Darius," you urged.

"Senator Consus, the Emperor's chosen regent," he finally confessed.

You froze, a cold realization settling in your chest as disbelief washed over you.

"Do you realize what you're saying?” your voice trembled.

“Yes, my lady. I was just as incredulous when I first learned of it. I had him followed to confirm the truth. The men at my side are my witnesses.” He gestured toward the guards, who bowed their heads respectfully. “And those two over there—they are nothing but traitorous praetorians, the very ones who led the Greeks through the city gates under Consus' sinister command.” His voice was taut, almost a growl, barely concealing his outrage. “He must be paying them well.”

This couldn’t possibly be true. Someone from your own family, someone you had placed your trust in—how could he do such a thing? Marcus had relied on him, had entrusted him with your safety, your children’s, his throne, and Rome. A chilling thought crossed your mind: your aunt Antonia. Of course, she was cunning; she must have been the architect of this treachery. It had to be her.

“Bring him and my aunt Antonia to Palatine Hill at once,” you commanded with steely resolve. “Get a carriage for me and Publius, and escort us there.”

Darius nodded sharply. “And what about these mutts and the traitors, my lady?” he asked, casting a disdainful glance at the captured men. “What are your orders for them?”

You took Publius's hand tightly; he clung to the fabric of your dress, still looking frightened and uneasy. As you looked coldly at the traitors, you noticed the fear in their eyes, which pleased you. You turned to Darius and issued a direct order.

"Kill them all.”

——

When you arrived at the  Palatine Hill, the first thing you did was take Publius to his chambers. The poor boy was still trembling with fear. It took a while for his racing heart to settle, but you held him close, wrapping your arms around him, offering warmth and reassurance, whispering promises that no one would ever harm him again. Eventually, the children and Decima arrived at the Domus Severiana, and all were relieved to see Publius, breathing a sigh of relief. You weren't sure if Paulina was aware of her mother and husband’s betrayal, so you decided to wait until you were sure.

Your own discomfort was acute, as the sprain in your ankle throbbed with each movement. You retrieved olive oil and carefully applied it to your swollen ankle before wrapping it tightly. It was the most effective remedy you had, even if the pain lingered stubbornly. When Flora found out about your fall, her face turned pale, tears spilling down her cheeks. You swept her into your lap, showering her with gentle kisses, cradling her close as you reassured her that you would be alright. Marcius, with a fierce glint in his eye, declared his determination to hunt down Publius’ kidnappers and make them pay. His protective instincts echoed those of his father, making you smile despite your pain.

After learning that your aunt Antonia and Consus had been brought to Palatine Hill, you changed out of your soiled clothes into something fresh and regal, with the help of the slaves. As they placed your crown above your head, you contemplated what to do about your aunt and Consus. You left the children with Decima and carefully made your way downstairs, escorted by the slaves. Going down the stairs was quite difficult, and you knew it would take weeks for your ankle to heal.

Upon entering the grand hall, a sense of solemnity enveloped you; Darius walked alongside, escorting you. The grand doors swung open, and as you stepped inside, a hush fell over the gathering. Every head bowed in reverence, a sea of respect felt to your bones and gave you strength. You moved deliberately towards the imperial throne. Darius guided you and helped you settle. The jingling sound of your elaborate earrings, shimmering bracelets, and a heavy necklace proclaiming your imperial authority. With dignity, you adjusted your palla, the luxurious fabric gliding against your skin, reminding everyone in the room of your status.

Soon, Antonia and Consus were brought before you, and you could sense Darius’ protective stance beside you, his gaze unwaveringly locked on them. For a moment, you chose silence, wanting to carefully analyze their expressions, to search for a flicker of innocence that would ease the dark cloud gathering in your heart. Desperation surged within you, hoping beyond hope that Darius was mistaken, that this betrayal was merely a cruel illusion. But as the truth dawned upon you—reflected in their troubled faces and the guilt that lingered in their eyes—you felt a tumult of hurt and anger swell within.

“Your Highness,” they both intoned, bowing their heads.

“Aurelia, my dear,” Antonia said, a hint of annoyance in her tone. “May I ask why have we been brought here in such haste?"

"You should address me as 'Empress Aurelia'," you replied icily, your gaze piercing. "For I stand before you as your Empress, not as your niece."

Antonia was taken aback by your demeanor and fell silent.

“My lady, there seems to be a grave misunderstanding. Please, allow me to explain,” Consus interjected. You silenced him with a simple raise of your hand, the gesture commanding immediate compliance.

“There is no need for explanations, Consus. Your collaborators have already divulged to us, one by one, the extent of your schemes—what you have plotted, what you have executed. Or will you dare to deny it?”

Consus cast a furtive glance at Antonia, a flicker of nervousness dancing across their faces, amplifying your growing ire.

Your aunt stepped forward, her voice imbued with concern. “Aurelia, if we could speak alone—”

“Why? Speak here, in front of everyone,” you snapped.

She took a deep breath, visibly bracing herself. “Your Highness, we were only looking out for you and the children. The rumors have become perilous—just the mere suggestion that Publius could be the son of Elagabalus is a threat to your safety and that of your children. We were only trying to ensure that Marcius was safe-"

“Enough!” As you rose to your feet, the atmosphere shifted, silencing her with a palpable tension. Darius instinctively reached out his arm, and you gripped it.

Antonia's brow furrowed in concern. “Aurelia, your leg—are you hurt?”

“My heart hurt far more. How dare you engage in such treachery? How dare you aid our enemies? What right do you have to entertain whispers about my nephew, heir to the throne, the son of Emperor Geta? Do you not know that he is as dear to me as my own flesh and blood?”

“Of course I do,” she said then bowed her head. “Forgive me.”

You ignored her and turned to Consus. “And what of you?” you asked. “My husband placed his unwavering trust in you, surrendering not only his throne but also the very essence of our lives—mine and our children's—into your hands. How could you dare to so brazenly betray that trust, your sacred position, and the honor of Rome?”

Consus swallowed hard, revealing a glimpse of his unease. “Forgive me, my lady,” he stammered. “I made a mistake. But I assure you, my intentions were never malevolent—please believe me. It was all meant to serve the good of Emperor Acacius and, in turn, you—”

“Enough with your hollow denials. I refuse to hear another word. I cannot fathom that members of my own family would resort to such deceit. You have shattered my trust in you. Let me be perfectly clear: being part of this family does not shield you from the consequences of your actions. Do not presume that I will simply forgive and forget,” you declared, your tone sharp and unyielding.

“I can explain my actions to Emperor Acacius upon his return. It would be wise for us to wait for him, my lady,” Consus suggested.

You recognized the underlying implication in his words—his belief that, despite your title, you were not as powerful as an emperor simply because you were a woman. Such archaic sentiments still lingered among certain senators and consuls, destined to persist through the ages. However, you were confident that Marcus would support you. You knew it was time to wield your authority with clarity and purpose, perhaps for the first time so openly. Yes, you had to.

“If my husband, Emperor Acacius were here,” you proclaimed, your voice resonating throughout the chamber, “What do you suppose he would say about your duplicitous scheme to abduct his beloved nephew—the very boy he cherished as his own son—all while conspiring with those treacherous Greeks? I can tell you this: he would have brushed you aside without a second thought, commanding your swift arrest and throwing you into the depths of disgrace. And I intend to do exactly that.”

Your gaze flicked toward Darius, and in an instant, he understood your silent command. With a subtle nod, he gestured to his guards, who moved swiftly to secure your will. Consus and  Antonia seized by the arms.

“Senator Consus,” you said with icy authority, “I, Empress Septimia Aurelia, and by my decree, I hereby relieve you of your duties. Effective immediately, you are suspended from the Council and will be imprisoned until my husband’s return, at which point he alone will determine your fate.” Your voice rang clear and firm. “Take him away."

“My lady, please show mercy,” Consus pleaded, his voice trembling with fear, but the guards obediently dragged him from your presence at your gesture.

Your aunt Antonia, stricken with despair, approached you and fell to her knees, grasping the hem of your dress with desperate hands. "Aurelia, please forgive this stubborn old aunt. I beseech you, show mercy."

Your gaze hardened as you addressed her. "Do you know what wounds me the most?" you asked, looking at her in the eye. "That the treachery came from my own blood whom I took in as a mother. How could you do this to me? You've proven that my true family consists only of my husband and my beloved children. Now stand."

With a cold dismissal, you signaled for the guards to assist her back to her feet.

"Though my anger runs deep, I cannot bring myself to imprison you out of respect for your position and the memory of my mother. Thus, I am exiling you to Leptis Magna, where you will spend the remainder of your days."

"But Aurelia—" she objected.

You cut her off with a fierce shout, "My decision is final! You will never again approach my family!"

The sorrow etched on your aunt's face tugged at your resolve, nearly swaying you, but you steeled yourself against the rising tide of compassion. You had to be strong. ”One final question," you said, your voice steady and unwavering. "Was Paulina complicit in this betrayal? Did she know what you were plotting?"

"No, I swear," she sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks, "My Paulina is innocent. She had no idea."

"Take her,” you ordered. This time, she went quiet, her shoulders sagging under the weight of despair as the guards moved in. They guided her away with firm hands.

Your chest tightened as you watched her departure. How naïve you had been to think that after years of yearning for true familial bonds, you might finally have found kinship in your aunt and cousin. But now, betrayal loomed large, casting a shadow over your hope. In the silence, you found comfort in the loyalty of three people you knew would always stand by you: Marcus, Lucius, and Decima. Geta would have been among them if you hadn't lost him. The ache of his absence remained a constant heavy weight in your heart; hardly a day passed without his memory echoing in your mind. Yet, amidst the pain, you couldn’t help but feel a current of gratitude that coursed through you, grateful to the Gods for bringing you Publius. In his presence and the reminder of his father, you always found a flicker of comfort that eased the relentless sting of your sorrow.

——

In the past few days, you orchestrated a significant shift within the council by nominating the consul Gracchus to replace Marcus as regent, a proposal that was met with unanimous approval. Gracchus, a man celebrated for his honor and deep respect, managed in just two days to accomplish what Consus had failed to achieve over an entire week, deftly resolving the pressing issues plaguing the city. His profound regard for both Geta and yourself was palpable, and as Publius embarked on his journey towards emperorship, you recognized the wisdom in keeping Gracchus close at hand. There was a sense of loyalty about him; you felt a strong intuition that he wouldn’t betray your trust, a stark contrast to the sting of betrayal you’d faced from those who were once dearest to you. But time, as it often does, would reveal the truth, and yet your instinct whispered that Gracchus was different.

One morning, the long-anticipated news swept through Domus Severiana like a refreshing breeze, igniting a joy within you so intense that it felt like your heart might burst from your chest. The glorious Roman fleet, under the command of your beloved Marcus, had been sighted off the coast of Ostia. This announcement sparked a wave of exuberance that enveloped the entire city even before the ships reached the shoreline. Your children, innocent and full of excitement, danced with glee in the courtyard, eagerly awaiting their father's return.

A splendid flurry of preparations erupted within the Domus Severiana as you issued orders for the finest foods to be prepared and the balneum to be filled with warm water and infused with sweet scents. You chose to wear your finest purple stola for this special day and insisted that your hair be styled impeccably with elegant hairpins. You yearned for Marcus to see you in all your beauty, a glowing vision he had missed just as much as you longed for his presence. He was returning in triumph, just as he always did, and your gratitude to the gods compelled you to send exquisite animals to the temple of Jupiter for sacred sacrifice.

As the sun arched across the sky, painting the day with golden hues, you and the children eagerly awaited the arrival of the ships in the bright courtyard of Domus Severiana. Darius lined up the guards, positioning them with precision outside the gates in anticipation of Marcus’s grand entry. From the bustling street, the jubilant cheers of the crowd rose like a wave of happiness, sharing your joy. Tomorrow would mark a grand victory celebration and a solemn ceremony within the temple of Jupiter, but today, the victorious emperor was yours alone, to embrace and cherish.

Then, the gates opened, and the guards snapped to attention, forming a proud honor guard. There he was, a vision of strength and grace. The moment his gaze met yours, a surge of warmth filled your chest, and before you could take a step closer, the children burst forth, racing towards him with uncontainable exuberance. “Father!” they cried, their voices ringing out in pure delight.

He was so mesmerized by your beauty that the children had to tug at their father's shawl to get his attention. Marcus then knelt, arms wide open, as he welcomed the little ones into his embrace. He swept them up in a joyful whirl, showering each child with affectionate kisses on their cheeks. From where you stood, propped gently against the arm of the slave girl beside you, you felt a pang of envy watching their jubilant reunion. They peppered him with questions, their voices a sweet chorus of innocence, and he responded cheerfully, never once faltering in his joyful responses. You remained an observer for a moment, unable to draw any closer due to the lingering ache in your ankle, but that was alright. It filled you with warmth to watch him revel in fatherhood, the man you had missed with all your heart, even more dazzling and beloved than the memories that replayed in your mind during his absence.

"Father, did you bring me a present, I wonder?" Flora asked, her eyes sparkling with hope.

"Our father is returning from the battlefield; how could he possibly buy you a present?’ Marcius grumbled, glancing at his sister.

Marcus chuckled, his voice warm and teasing. "Ah, sweetlings, I've journeyed through war. However, I could not resist bringing you a treasure from the city I conquered."

He gestured to a soldier standing off to the side. Moments later, the soldier returned, carefully bearing a finely crafted cage that held three enchanting nightingales. "One for each of you. Treat them with kindness, yes?"

"They're lovely," Flora whispered in awe, leaning closer to admire their delicate feathers.

"We should name them," Marcius suggested enthusiastically.

"They sing so loudly, it’s like a music!" Publius added, his eyes wide with wonder.

As the children busied themselves with the birds, Marcus turned his attention towards you. You felt a pull to move closer to him, but the gnawing pain in your ankle held you back.

"My lady, what troubles you? Are you hurt?" he asked, his brows knitting tightly in worry.

"It’s nothing, truly."

"Mother fell off the horse," Marcius interjected, making an innocent yet alarming revelation.

You shot him a frown, and he bit his lip in response.

Marcus's worry intensified as his gaze darted from your face to your leg and back to you. "You fell off the horse?" His eyes filled with unease as he gently placed his hand over your stomach. "I hope nothing has happened to our child."

"Calm yourself, my love; our little one is perfectly healthy," you reassured him, placing your other hand over his.

“You didn’t mention this in your letter,” he said.

“I didn’t want to burden you with worry. I promise, I'm fine,” you replied, brushing your fingers softly against his cheek.

"But how did it happen?" he asked examining your leg.

"I'll tell you everything, but now, you must rest. Your bath is ready, let me feed you before that," you said with a smile.

“Very well," he said, pressing a tender kiss to your hand before wrapping his arm around you.

As you stepped towards the triclinium, your eyes constantly met, filled with the longing that had built over the long weeks apart. "I missed you terribly," he murmured, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“I missed you more, my love,” you replied, snuggling closer, feeling the warmth of his presence ease your aches.

——

"You still haven't told me how this happened," you urged anxiously, your gaze fixed on the wound in Marcus's shoulder. Its deep, angry red color sent a pang of sorrow through your heart, the sight nearly unbearable.

You had first spotted the wound during his bath, where the water had turned a shade darker around him. Now, sitting on the edge of your bed, your hands were gentle yet trembling as you examined his injury. The slaves had diligently prepared an herbal concoction at your request, and the air was filled with the earthy aroma of healing plants as you carefully began to apply it to his wound.

"My men raised the tower on my orders to breach their walls, but the drawbridge was stuck. There was no time to lose," he said. “Without hesitation, I put the galea on my head, drew my sword, and dashed toward the chain to break it free. Despite their efforts to shield me from the arrows raining down, a few struck true. In the end, I managed to drop the drawbridge, and we surged into the city." He added this with a grin.

Your brow furrowed in concern. "Did you really need to take such a reckless action? You could have given the command to someone else."

Marcus tenderly cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing a reassuring line along your jaw. "I had to think quickly in that moment, my love. We were cornered, trapped between the walls and their menacing catapults; there was no other choice."

"But what if an arrow had struck closer to your heart?" you whispered, your throat tightening at the horrifying thought. The mere idea sent chills through you, echoing a sharp ache in your chest.

"I already have an arrow stuck in my heart," he replied with a soft smile, his fingers tucking away a few strands of hair that had fallen across your forehead.

"When you say it like that, it sounds as if my love is causing you pain."

"True, it hurts," he said, his voice low and soothing, "But it’s a beautiful kind of pain. It burns deep within me, yet it's a fire that purifies—a flame that sanctifies. It’s a fire I crave to consume me." He murmured these words as he leaned closer, the sweet aroma of wine drifting from his breath.

You touched his lips with your trembling fingers, feeling the warmth radiating from him. "Marcus," you breathed, "I can't lose you." Your words broke, and a sob welled up from deep within you, tears spilling down your cheeks. 

"Shh, carissima," he soothed, his thumb gently wiping away your tears. "You won't lose me.”

You smiled and turned your head slightly to kiss his palm.

“I love you, my beautiful Aurelia. I will love you forever, in this life, the next, and the one after that,” he whispered as his hand glided up the back of your neck in a gentle caress, his fingers softly brushing through your hair. Inhaling your scent, he pressed his lips to your hair, his breath warm against the long strands. You arched your neck, eyes closed, a soft sound escaping your throat.

You were so delicate, here in his arms; so light, so beautiful.

All your worries melted away as you pulled his mouth down to yours; he allowed you to remove his tunic, your fingers trailing over his muscled chest. A groan of desire escaped from his throat as you kissed him deeply, fiercely. He gave all of himself to you in return, stroking the tip of his tongue around the inside of your lips, pulling you closer to him possessively, tugging your lower lip gently between his teeth. The sound you made then is almost a growl, impossibly arousing to him.

It's a battle, a dance, a music. Everything you could think of fits, for this.

"I love you for waiting for me, for taking care of me, for taking care of our children, for being everything I ever wanted - and more." He purred, kissing your neck, letting his tongue run over your pulse point. You felt him smile as your lips met again, and then he pushed forward, beyond you, tilting his mouth over yours to deepen the kiss. You leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he slipped his hand inside your cream-coloured tunic, his thumb brushing against your nipple beneath the thin fabric.

You broke away from the kiss, gasping sharply in response to the caress, realizing how much you've missed his touch and how much you needed it now. He took the opportunity to press tiny wet kisses along the line of your jaw, working his way over to your ear. “Have I told you how much I have missed you, darling wife?” he whispered, his breath warm against your cheek. Without waiting for a response, he continued, nibbling at your earlobe.

“Countless times, but I would gladly hear it again—I’ve missed you just as deeply, my dear husband,” you said in a whisper.

With that, he grabbed you by the waist and laid you gently yet eagerly on the bed. His fingers were no longer gentle as he undressed you roughly, and when you were completely naked, he slowly slid the knuckles of his hand from your ankle up your thighs, making you shiver. “I have missed your sweet taste,” he whispered. You moaned with pleasure when he lowered himself to you and drew your nipple between his lips, suckling against you and stroking the sensitive flesh with his tongue. As he continued to worship your breasts, one hand slid down your leg and gently grasped your ankle. "It won't hurt if I do this, will it?" he asked and, careful not to hurt you, he lifted your leg and placed it carefully over his shoulder. Your heart fluttered as you realized his intentions, and you could only nod fervently in response; he chuckled at your reaction and bent down to spread your other leg to the side. You held your breath as he lowered his head between your thighs, his warm breath showering your wet folds.

He claimed you with every yearning touch, noting how much you longed for this; you moaned as he curled first one, then two fingers into you, now nibbling, sucking greedily, ravenously on your clit, causing your hips to rock against him, your every breath another gasped cry. Since he was full of longing, he loved it as he saw how desperate you were for him, how you craved more and more. He was too, quickly lost himself in you, in what you did to him and the way you responded. You were all he could breathe, the warmth of your skin, the dampness, your scent, feeling your familiar response to his torture.

As always, he loved it.

It wasn't long before you were nearing your climax; he could tell by your movements; of course, he could, he knew you so well, so he deliberately increased his torment in the next step, giving you all the pleasure he could, and you cried out his name over and over again as you came. Then he held you in his arms and kissed your forehead, which was glistening with sweat.

"So beautiful," he whispered, looking into your half-closed eyes as he gently caressed your flushed cheeks. You wrapped your arms around his neck again to kiss him hungrily. Your lips slid down his thick neck, planting kisses on his skin along the way, and now he was fully aroused, feeling so hard it almost hurt. His eyes sparkled like gems as he rubbed against your thigh, spreading his moisture over your skin and marking you with it. You reached down with your hand, found it, stroked it, running the nail of your thumb along the groove that connected head to shaft, and it was enough to make him spread your legs wide, urgently positioning himself between your thighs with a moan of pure pleasure.

“I need to feel you, my love,” he gasped. “I need to be inside you.”

And he pushed himself fully inside you, then reached for a pillow and propped it under your leg, making sure not to hurt your ankle when you bounced against his thrusts. You shuddered, your eyes gleaming as you gazed up at him, admiring how caring and protective he was of you even at this moment.

He made love to you until his control began to slip through his fingers, and the pleasure of being inside you was too much. He could feel you quivering under him, your warm breath against his ear as you sobbed in pleasure, and you moved together until you seemed to exist only to feel the ecstasy of it. You arched under him, and he pulled back, then slid his full length inside you, he repeated and repeated again. Clinging at his back, you were begging him not to stop. Soon, your walls began to constrict around him, and he felt himself close to the edge.

In that moment, your fingers intertwined and your eyes locked, as you came together in perfect harmony. Then he collapsed to you, his weight cushioned on you, and you were still trying desperately to catch your breath. He reached down, once he was able to muster the strength, and pulled the sheets over both of you, covering you both. You snuggled closer to his chest, truly cherishing the warmth and happiness of your reunion, feeling an immense gratitude for this beautiful moment shared together.

——

Years later…

On the deck of a merchant ship sailing to Alexandria, you sighed deeply, feeling the gentle sea breeze against your skin. You leaned on the polished wooden railings, your gaze lost in the mesmerizing expanse of the Mediterranean Sea, its sapphire waves sparkling under the brilliant midday sun. It had been many years since your last sea voyage, but the rhythmic rocking of the ship, a comforting reminder of your childhood, felt soothing rather than irritating. Perhaps you were finally acclimating to it, as this was now the third day of your journey.

“Do you think the children will be alright while we're away?” you asked, concern threading your voice like a delicate vine.

Marcus, seated on the steps of the deck, his strong hands deftly sharpening his pugio, looked up with a reassuring smile before returning to his task. “Don't worry, my love. They’re all grown now and can take care of themselves. Besides, with Darius and Octavius watching over them, no one would dare to cause them trouble.”

He spoke the truth. Marcius and Publius had matured into young men, now fifteen years old, while Flora had blossomed into an exceptionally beautiful young woman. Marcus, fiercely devoted and protective of his only daughter, had resolutely declined all marriage proposals from patrician and noble families. In the traditions of Rome, marriage typically started at the tender age of twelve, but to you, she would always be your little girl. Over the years, you had been blessed with two more sons: Aurelius, now ten and full of mischief, and the sweet Severus, who was just seven, Both boys are eager imitators and antics of their older brother. Although Flora was the apple of her father’s eye, you harbored an equal love for all your children; each held a special place in your heart. Thus, it seemed wisest for them to remain in Rome during your absence.

Over the years, Marcus continued to fulfill his duties as emperor, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of passing the throne to a deserving successor, to Publius. He had faced the trials of war twice more, yet through his unwavering strength and strategic prowess, he had restored Rome to its rightful glory.

Publius, steadfastly at his uncle's side, was actively engaged in the affairs of the city, addressing the council's decisions, negotiating treaties in the grand hall, and hosting messengers from far-off lands. Marcus meticulously trained him, preparing him for the weighty responsibilities ahead, trusting him completely—an admiration that Publius returned tenfold. Your heart swelled with pride as you observed his remarkable transformation into a capable and responsible young man.

In contrast, Marcius had chosen a different path. While brilliant and clever, he had little interest in the intrigues of politics. His true passion lay in the art of combat. He had trained rigorously, honing his skills until he often found himself in spirited duels with his father, coming tantalizingly close to besting him. Marcus, filled with pride, gleefully admitted that one day Marcius would surpass him in skill, and he was confident that eventually, Marcius would rise to become a commander like himself, leading armies to victory.

The warm touch of Marcus' arm around your waist distracted your thoughts.

“Are you hungry? They’re serving food,” he said.

You turned your gaze in the direction he pointed. A crowd of passengers was bustling around, filling their plates with food, while the laughter and chatter of children rang out, reminding you of your own dear ones as they happily filled their stomachs. Here, aboard the ship, you embraced the simplicity of life as one of the ordinary noble families, shedding the heavy mantle of being emperor and empress. It was your choice; it felt more comfortable this way. Besides, the citizens didn’t need to know that their emperor was slipping away from the city for a few months, did they?

“I’ll fetch our food, my lady. Please have a seat,” he said with a charming smile, kissing you tenderly on the cheek before striding off to the food line. Your heart fluttered as you watched him move through the crowd, his presence still captivating despite the years that had shaped you both. Time had left its mark—slight wrinkles now framed your eyes, and silver strands had become more prominent in Marcus’ curls—but he remained strikingly handsome. Despite these physical changes, the essence of your relationship—the love, cherished affection, unwavering respect, burning passion, and deep admiration—had remained beautifully intact, just as it was on that fateful first day.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. A palpable tension surged among the passengers as nervous whispers filled the air. People scrambled to one side of the deck, eyes wide with fear, drawn to the railings in rush. You approached Marcus, who was equally drawn to the commotion. The Magister Navis, the ship’s captain, shielded his eyes with his hand and squinted intently at the distant vessel. After a heart-stopping moment, he dropped his hand, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“The ship has no flag,” he muttered, a tremor of uncertainty in his voice. A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd, but you still struggled to grasp the full meaning.

“Pirates,” Marcus hissed.

You stared at him in disbelief, then back at the ominous shape of the ship on the horizon, creeping closer and darker. Tales of pirates attacking and capturing merchant ships had floated through for years, but you had never imagined facing such danger firsthand.

“How many archers are on board?” Marcus asked, his tone firm and commanding as he focused on the captain.

“This is a simple, merchant ship, sir—only twenty,” the captain replied, his face pale and drawn. “But how can we resist them—with what?”

“With what we have,” Marcus growled, steel threading through his voice. “Get the archers here now, and anyone else who has skill with a sword.”

The captain's expression shifted to confusion. “Sir, are you a soldier?”

In one fluid motion, Marcus swept aside his cloak to reveal gleaming armor that shimmered like silver in the dim light. “Does this answer your question? Do as I say now—there is no time to lose.”

The captain nodded, looking at the other passengers, who stared at them with fearful eyes. “We need the help of men who know how to use swords. Women and children, please, head down to the hold and remain out of sight; we’ll stand guard against the pirates.”

As they exchanged nervous murmurs, Marcus grasped your arm, guiding you toward the hold with a firm yet gentle touch. “You need to go with them.”

“But I can help!” you protested. Your archery skills had sharpened remarkably, and you yearned to prove your worth. But Marcus, protective as ever, remained resolute, a stern expression etched across his handsome face.

“Aurelia, it’s far too dangerous. Please, stay where it’s safe.”

“How can I just sit there while you fight?” you asked, fire igniting in your chest. “Let me watch your back; I’m ready to stand alongside you!”

Marcus smiled. “I believe in your abilities my brave wife, but your safety is my top priority."

You frowned and crossed your arms stubbornly.

"If you don’t, I might have to lock you in there—and I wouldn’t hesitate,” he said then.

“Must you always play the protector?”

“You know the answer to that, my lady,” he replied as he led you down with the others.

As you entered the hold of the ship filled with anxious women and men, Marcus cast a discerning glance over their figures, illuminated by the low light. “Are you really going to hide here among the women? Do you truly call yourselves men?” he asked, his tone sharpened by disappointment.

The men exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of uncertainty and intimidation as they averted their gazes. Marcus sighed. “Look at yourselves. Even my wife is ready to fight by my side.”

One of the men, his voice trembling slightly, spoke up, “Forgive me, but I’ve never handled a sword before.” The others nodded in reluctant agreement, their faces betraying them.

Marcus then rummaged through the ammunition in the hold, finally pulling out small, sturdy knives. He distributed them carefully, urging, “At least defend your women until the last moment. If you must meet your end, do so with honor.” Then he turned to you. “Whatever happens, don’t leave here.”

“I can’t promise that,” you replied stubbornly.

He glared at you. “Aurelia.”

“If you want me to stay put, you must take care of yourself out there. I can’t just stand here if something happens to you,” you insisted.

Marcus grinned. “Fair deal.” He gave you one last look, kissed the top of your head, and then closed the door before heading up on deck.

One of the women placed her hand on your shoulder and smiled. “Your man is very brave,” she said admiringly.

You smiled back. “He certainly is. He’s a hero,” you replied. You glanced at the worried women and children. “He’ll save us all. Don’t you worry.”

But soon, the air thickened with tension as shouts erupted from the deck, announcing the imminent arrival of the pirate ship. At first, their voices roared a warning to the captain, demanding he surrender the vessel. The captain’s steadfast refusal rang out like a rallying cry, and then you heard Marcus’s commanding voice slice through the chaos.

“Archers!” he called, the urgency palpable.

The pirates, undeterred, shouted back, their threats hanging in the air like a storm cloud ready to burst. When arrows flew through the air, the battle ignited, sending waves of adrenaline through you. Anxiety gripped the crew, their fears palpable, and you had hoped that the enemy would be outnumbered. But as you peered through the wooden slats of the ship, dread knotted in your stomach. It was clear that the odds were far less in your favor than you had hoped.

Chaos erupted as pirates leaped from their ship onto yours, swords clashing and fierce shouts echoing throughout the vessel. Time stretched on agonizingly, and then, suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps jolted everyone to attention.

Instinctively, you grabbed a bow and arrows from the armory, your heart pounding in your chest as you aimed at the door, prepared to defend your position against any intruder. Behind you, children let out frightened whimpers, and women murmured desperate prayers to the gods for protection. Then, as if fueled by your quiet resolve, the men behind you drew strength from your presence. You caught a glimpse of their determination, and you nodded, silently encouraging them.

Just then, someone burst through the door, pushing it open with a heavy shoulder. He stood there for a moment, eyes wide as they took you in, then glanced at the anxious faces behind you. A cruel grin broke across his face. “What have we here?

"Stay back or I'll pierce your skull!" you barked.

The pirate looked at his friend and grinned. “How ambitious. Put it away, lady, before you hurt yourself.” He said as he approached you and you released the arrow, and just as you said, it pierced the man's skull.

The other man opened his eyes wide, staring at his friend's collapsed body, filled with anger. “You whore! I’ll kill you!”

You picked up your new arrow, placed it on the bow, and drew back the string. In just a few seconds, you finished him off. The only reason they had managed to get down here so easily was that Marcus and the others must have been in trouble. You couldn't just stand by; you had to act. Turning to the others, you said, “Whatever happens, don’t leave here. I’ll help them.”

Perhaps if you had expressed this before taking up the bow and arrow, they might have stopped you. But now, they only nodded. The admiration in their eyes gave you strength. You jumped over the lifeless bodies of the pirates on the floor you had just killed, left the hold, and made your way out onto the deck from the stern of the ship.

It wasn't as easy as you had imagined being in a real battle. But you had to do it; you had to help your man. When you reached a high vantage point on the back deck, you leaned forward and scanned the scene ahead, your heart racing. Marcus was surrounded by at least five men, and the battle was not going well. The Captain and the others were fighting with all their might, but the situation was dire.

You needed to think fast. Your supply of arrows was limited, so every shot had to count. Taking a deep breath, you drew your arrow, waited, and aimed carefully. You knew that if you hit someone, it wouldn’t take long for them to notice you, and you would be in immediate danger. You had to be quick. A moment later, you saw someone push Marcus to the ground, and without hesitation, you released your arrow.

It went straight through the man's throat and he collapsed violently.

His opponents and Marcus looked in surprise in the direction of the arrow, but you ignored their expressions, concentrating solely on the most critical target: your opponent. You quickly drew another arrow and took out the other man. Their surprise lingered a bit too long as they realized you were a woman, but then the man you believed to be their leader shouted out. "Over there, kill her!”

"No! Aurelia!" Marcus roared, taking advantage of their confusion to cut down the first two and then one with angry sword thrusts. He ran towards you, but there were two more approaching you too. Fear took over your body, your hand shaking as you aimed again with the new arrow, but you tried to pull yourself together and as one man was about to swing his sword at you, you released your arrow and it struck him in the chest and he fell to the ground.

Marcus threw his pugio at the other man and neutralized him; the sharp knife pierced his back, and he collapsed. You looked at him and smiled proudly, but before you knew what was happening, an arrow suddenly shot towards you. You felt a sharp pain in your arm and screamed in agony.

“Aurelia!” Marcus shouted at the top of his lungs as he rushed to your side. Fortunately, the arrow had only grazed you, but the wound was deep enough to bleed. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back, away from the path of raining arrows.

“Are you all right?” The concern in his voice was evident.

“It just grazed my arm,” you replied through clenched teeth. You groaned as Marcus sheathed his sword, tore a piece of your dress, and wrapped it around your wound.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay downstairs?” he said, a mix of anger and concern in his voice. “Did you get hurt anywhere else?” He didn’t notice the men approaching behind him as he examined you from head to toe with great concern.

“Marcus, behind you!' you shouted to warn him. And it was only a matter of time before he drew his sword, turned and lunged, cutting down both men in one swift motion. 

“Stay behind me,” he ordered you, then turned to the archers. “Archers!” He pointed his sword at the pirate ship. With fewer pirates now, they could finally use their arrows. “Draw!” The archers lit their oil-soaked arrows, prepared to aim. “Release!” Marcus shouted, and fiery arrows rained down on the pirate ship. Some struck the sails, while others hit critical parts of the vessel, causing it to burst into flames.

As the pirates onboard scrambled to extinguish the fire, Marcus urged the archers to attack again. Soon, the ship was engulfed in flames, forcing the pirates to jump overboard. With the immediate threat diminished, Marcus turned to you. “Now that most of their archers and crew have been neutralized, you’re in less danger. If you want to help, assist me in taking out the rest. Can you do that?”

You understood his words, nodded with a smile, and nocked an arrow on your bow. “I’ll watch your back!”

He shot you a wink before leaping from the ledge to the ship’s deck below. As he charged towards the dwindling band of pirates, you took aim, releasing one arrow after another with precision. Each shot found its mark, felling foes intent on rushing him. The air crackled with tension as archers and fighters alike poured their souls into the battle, and soon the ship was free of the pirate threat.

A triumphant cheer erupted around you as the last remnants of the enemy fell, echoing with the exhilaration of victory. Your heart swelled with joy as you glanced at Marcus, who was beaming as he approached you, the sunlight glinting off his sweat-drenched brow.

When he reached you, his gaze was intense, locked onto your lips as if they were the very lifeline he had fought for. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and kissed you with a fervor that made the world around you fade away. You both basked in the heat of the moment, utterly unbothered by the sweat and blood that clung to your skin. “I have fallen in love with you once again, my love,” he cooed, planting another passionate kiss on your lips.

From a distance, the rest of the crew watched in awe, expressions filled with admiration and gratitude. They may not have known your true identity, but they felt respect for the bond you shared, as if they could sense the strength of your love that had sealed your fates together.

——

After three long nights and four exhausting days, the ship finally docked at the bustling port of Alexandria. The turbulent days following the pirate attack had forged bonds among the passengers, and you found yourself surrounded by newfound friends who deeply respected you for your courage. As the captain maneuvered the vessel into the harbor, the salty breeze filled the air, and excitement thrummed through the crew as everyone gathered on deck, eager to welcome solid ground once more.

As the captain docked the ship, everyone gathered on deck, preparing to disembark. Marcus said goodbye to those he had fought alongside, then you bid farewell to the women before finally stepping onto land. You sighed deeply, looking around in awe and longing. “Oh, how I've missed this place.”

Marcus took your hand, the bag containing your belongings in his other hand.

“I hope Vicius' house isn't far from here. I feel utterly drained,” he confessed, his exhaustion evident in his tone.

“Me too,” you replied, a playful smile dancing on your lips. “And I desperately need a bath; I still carry the brine of the sea with me. The house is just up that way—we’ll need to walk a bit.” You pointed down a sun-dappled street, its cobblestones warm beneath your feet.

Lucius knew you were coming, but your reunion with him could wait; now you really needed to rest. As you walked towards Vicius' house, navigating the vibrant streets of Alexandria felt like stepping back in time, but this time, you were not alone. Your husband, the man you loved dearly, walking beside you. You narrated tales of the places from your past: the market, the baths, the Valetudinarium, and the other significant spots that shaped your youth. Marcus listened intently, asking questions that encouraged you to delve deeper.

After about half an hour of walking, you smiled as you entered a familiar road At the end of the street stood Vicius' house, where you had spent your childhood and youth.

It felt as if the house was welcoming you with open arms. “Marcus, look! There it is! Oh, it hasn’t changed at all after all these years!” you exclaimed, running ahead toward the house.

Marcus smiled at your joyful sprint, as if you were a little girl rather than a woman nearing the end of her thirties. He followed close behind, sharing in your delight. You opened the door, and memories flooded back, enveloping you. For a moment, you simply stood there, taking in the beauty and the emotional weight of returning after all these years as a completely different person.

Carefully, Marcus set down the bag and sword belt on a sturdy oak table, then stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you from behind, their warmth enveloping you. “So, my beautiful Aurelia grew up in this house,” he murmured, looking around.

“Not as grand as your villa, but it's nice here too,” you replied.

“My villa stands grand and peaceful because you fill it with your light,” he said softly. “Every place becomes something beautiful with your presence, my love,” he breathed, his voice a velvet caress.

“Marcus,” you cooed, a smile curling your lips as you turned your head to meet his gaze. "This place takes on a whole new significance now that you’re here, my beloved husband."

He smiled in response and drew you to him, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. After meandering through the various rooms and reliving cherished memories, you led Marcus out into the courtyard, eager to share the garden, where flowers danced in the breeze, and the neighborhood. Gratitude washed over you for Lucius, who had taken the time to prepare the house, leaving it cleaned and stocked with provisions in the kitchen. Though you had intended to visit him tomorrow, you knew today was a day for rest.

——

In the early hours of the day, after enjoying a simple yet satisfying breakfast, you left the house and made your way outside. Stepping into the streets of Alexandria, filled with the scent of sea salt, you set off to visit Lucius at the Valetudinarium. Marcus wore a simple tunic instead of his armor, along with a cloak, while you donned a plain stola, accessorized only with earrings and bracelets. It felt much better to walk around like this—without a crown on your head or any extravagant items to showcase your status and draw curious glances from passersby. He appeared to feel the same way, as he seemed more relaxed. It was nice to stroll around Alexandria like this, at least until you returned to Rome; it felt like a vacation. As you walked through the streets where you had sometimes cried in a corner and where you had also run with joy, you took in the surroundings. The harbor, the market, and the houses around it had changed slightly after all these years, but to you, everything felt familiar.

As you strolled through familiar streets that had witnessed both your tears and your laughter, you soaked in the vibrant sights and sounds surrounding you. The harbor glistened under the sun's golden rays, turquoise waters gently lapping at the docks, while the market buzzed with animated chatter and the rich aroma of spices filled the air. Though some things had changed over the years—the colors of the market stalls perhaps a little brighter and the paths a touch more worn—everything felt inherently the same to you, a cherished tapestry of memories.

When you arrived at the Valetudinarium, the guards at the entrance stopped you. The frustrating part of disguising your identity was that you couldn’t enter as an ordinary woman when you could easily go in as an empress. Fortunately, Lucius recognized you and approached the guards, explaining the situation. The guards immediately bowed their heads, apologized, and let you pass.

“Lucius!” you called out joyfully, running to him and giving him a hug.

“Aurelia,” he chuckled, patting your back, “I nearly forgot your radiant face, my dear.” His gaze flickered toward Marcus, who stood by, watching the reunion with a smile.

“Your Highness,” Lucius greeted with a nod, tapping Marcus lightly on the shoulder.

“Just call me by name, please,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a friendly grin as he returned the gesture.

“Works for me,” Lucius grinned. “Come on in,” he said, inviting you inside.

You missed this place; after all, you used to spend half the day here. As you made your way to Vicius' room, Lucius filled you in on the changes and updates about his life. He had written to you in his letters about being married and having a son. As he shared stories about his wife and child, you walked through the familiar corridors. Now that he was supra medicus (the chief physician), he had been given Vicius' room.

When you finally reached the room, a deep sigh escaped your lips, the memories flooding back with every glance.

“I’ve organized the room a bit, but I haven’t touched any of Vicius' belongings. They’re all in that closet; would you like to take a look?” Lucius asked.

“Of course. Thank you, Lucius,” you replied, grateful for his thoughtfulness.

You helped him carefully arrange Vicius' cherished items on the table while Marcus examined the assortment of medicine bottles lining the shelves.

“Oh, I remember this,” you murmured, lifting a small vial of medicine that caught the light. “This was the concoction I crafted that saved that boy's life. Vicius told me to keep it and to feel proud of my work.” The memory warmed your heart, and the image of his proud face appeared before your eyes.

“How smug you were for figuring it out before I did,” Lucius said sarcastically. Then he glanced at Marcus. “She stubbornly kept making the mixture all morning; you wouldn’t believe how determined she was.”

Marcus grinned. "Knowing well about her stubbornness, I absolutely believe it," he said, looking at you with a smirk.

You giggled and looked at Lucius. “Jealous much?”

Your laughter faded as your gaze fell upon one of the other bags. It was the bag you had meticulously packed for days, preparing to take to Rome with Vicius, a dream that had been shattered by the very incident that had led you to Marcus.

“These clothes don’t belong to Vicius; I completely forgot to dispose of them,” he muttered, his voice tinged with regret. “Do you remember that man?”

You looked at him, opening Vicius's bag and peering inside. “Which one?”

“The one from Rome, the consul or something.”

“Oh yes, I remember,” you replied, your attention focused on the items in the bag.

“These clothes definitely belong to a member of the Senate,” Marcus said, looking a little thoughtful. “Why was he here, I wonder?”

“I can’t say,” Lucius replied. “Vicius kept him a secret and worked hard to heal that man. He said he was suffering from an incurable disease.”

Suddenly, you noticed a letter tucked away at the bottom of the bag. As you reached for it and carefully unfolded the paper, a ring adorned with emeralds slipped out, landing softly on the floor and rolling toward Marcus. "I remember this letter," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Vicius wrote this man's last will and testament here. We were meant to deliver it to his family when we arrived in Rome."

A shudder ran through you as memories washed over you—the man’s illness ravaging his body, the tortured look in his eyes as he grasped the harsh reality that Vicius wouldn’t be able to save him. When you turned to collect the ring, you noticed Marcus standing frozen, his eyes wide as he stared at it.

“This... But how?” he murmured, his voice trailing off as he studied the ring with an intensity that made you curious.

Lucius and you exchanged confused looks.

“Marcus? What’s wrong?” you asked as you approached him.

“This ring,” he said, a whisper of disbelief in his voice as he turned it over in his fingers. What was it about the ring that fascinated him so much, you wondered. Marcus handed you the ring.

“Read the inscription inside,” he said, and you did. The delicate engraving revealed itself, a legacy etched into metal—a family ring, typically passed down from father to son, a tangible connection to those who had worn it before. As your eyes settled on the name within the band, 'Acacius' leapt out at you in bold letters.

You remained frozen, your mind racing with possibilities. “Marcus,” you finally managed to utter, the revelation heavy on your tongue. “That consul... that man... was he your father?”

Silence enveloped the room like a shroud, yet the storm of emotion swirling in his eyes spoke volumes. A wave of pain washed over him as he seated himself heavily with a deep sigh. “I had just risen to the rank of general, commanding the legions stationed here. In my anger, I refused the ring he offered. I thought he had returned to Rome, oblivious to the fact that he was gravely ill. Tullia said he died in Alexandria, but…” His voice quivered.

“The gods seem to possess an unusual sense of humor,” Lucius murmured.

Quickly, you reached for the letter you had earlier retrieved from the bag, handing it over with a sense of urgency. “He must have written this to you,” you insisted, your heart aching for him.

Marcus took the letter, eyeing it, his hands trembling.

“We'll give you some space,” you offered softly, glancing at Lucius, who nodded in agreement before stepping towards the door. As the door creaked open, Marcus abruptly grasped your wrist, drawing you closer.

"Please remain here with me," he requested softly.

“I'll be right outside,” Lucius assured, retreating into the hallway as the door closed behind him.

Taking a seat beside Marcus, you instinctively encircled your arms around one of his to offer warmth and support. After a moment to compose himself, he began to unfold the letter and read words aloud.

"My beloved son, Marcus. If you are reading this letter, it means I have already taken my final breath. I journeyed to Alexandria, driven by the longing to see you, just after Septimius’s passing. It has been years since I last beheld your face, and the pain of that absence has weighed heavily on my heart. I understand that you still harbor deep-seated anger towards me—anger for forcing you into a marriage with an unfaithful woman unworthy of your love and for never honoring your valor as a soldier. But this time, I come not to seek your forgiveness for my past transgressions or to persuade you to join the Senate, as I did during our last encounter—a plea that you rightly rebuffed. My son, the illness I’ve has rendered me incapable of undertaking any journey; Vicius insists that I may not return to Rome."

Marcus swallowed hard, the emotion welling in his chest, and you placed a comforting hand on his back. He took a moment to steady himself before continuing. "My last request, should this letter reach your hands, is that you take our family ring, and bestow it upon your firstborn son—whether you wear it or not, it holds our legacy after all. One last thing..." he faltered, searching for words.

"What is it, my love? Please continue," You urged gently, meeting his gaze.

He pressed on, though a frown creased his brow. "When Vicius returns to Rome, he will seek your assistance. I implore you to aid him. He will bring with him Princess Aurelia, the only daughter and firstborn child of Septimius, and you must make it your solemn duty to protect her at all costs. Only you can do so. Guard her against the treachery of Macrinus, the scheming empress Julia, and the twin emperors, the princess’s half-brothers. If it becomes necessary, marry her to ensure her safety."

"Gods," you breathed, your hand instinctively covering your chest as shock coursed through you.

"These are the final wishes of a dying old man, and I have faith that you will honor them, regardless of your resentment towards me. I hope, one day, you will find it within yourself to forgive me.

Your father, Marcianus Acacius."

For a while, you remained silent, the weight of Marcus' father’s letter pressing upon you like a heavy shroud. The emotional turmoil it stirred would take time to process.

Later that evening, Lucius invited you to his home for dinner. You found comfort in the warmth of pleasant conversation and the sight of him happily seated beside his wife and son. Marcus seemed quiet but enjoyed spending time with Lucius’s son.

When the night finally drew to a close, you returned home. Lying in the comfort of your bed, your mind drifted back to the letter, its words lingering in the air around you like a whisper.

"So, it seems we were always destined to meet," you murmured softly, looking into his eyes.

"Indeed, my love," he replied with a smile.

Resting your head against his chest, you murmured, "How do you think our lives would have unfolded if we hadn't met that night? Do you think we would still have fallen in love in the same way?"

Marcus gazed at you. "Without a doubt. But this time, I would have asked for your hand at once," he chuckled. "And besides, my father entrusted me with your protection; how could I have dared to ignore it when I beheld your breathtaking beauty?"

You chuckled softly, "If my heart hadn't been so stubborn and weighed down by the sorrow of Vicius's death, and if our paths had crossed in your villa from the very beginning, I would have wanted to marry you without hesitation."

He leaned closer. "It seems the Gods have woven our fates together, my lady." He intertwined his fingers with yours, and together, you admired your hands, captivated by the unique contrast in sizes, skin tones, and textures. “In the end, all paths lead to one remarkable fate,” he mused. “Isn’t it beautifully strange?”

“It truly is,” you whispered, your heart fluttering softly at the moment.

Then, he captured your lips in a kiss, igniting a passionate fire within you that flared and crackled, leaving you both suspended in the exquisite bliss of the moment, fully immersed in the magic that was undeniably yours.

——

"Are you going to give the ring to Marcius, or will you wear it?" you asked, your voice carrying a hint of playful curiosity as you packed your belongings that morning.

The morning sun bathed the courtyard in golden light, bringing to life the memories you created during those cherished months. While peace and warmth filled your days, a persistent ache for your children tugged at your heart. You have missed them so much.

Marcus slipped the gleaming ring onto his finger. "I'll give it to him one day. Until that day arrives, I want to wear it."

A soft smile broke across your face; you understood his desire to honor his father's last wish, that connection to family bonding him to the legacy he would one day pass on.

"Are you ready to leave? Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, I have everything. I believe I'm ready to leave now."

"Aurelia," Marcus said, his eyes twinkling as he took your hand in his, "I have cherished my time here with you, living this simple, ordinary life, much more than I ever did as Emperor or General."

Your heart swelled at his words. "Me too," you replied softly. "It has felt as effortless as breathing. There’s something magical about stepping away from the burdens of power—without slaves bustling around, consuls debating, or guards pacing.

"We can always come back here if you wish, whenever the Empress's duties wear you down," he teased with a smirk.

"Actually, that won't be necessary," you said.

"Will it not? You surprise me, my lady. May I ask why?"

"There’s a very simple reason," you said, your gaze softening. "You are my family. As long as I have you and our children, I can make a home anywhere—whether in a modest house like this or a grand palace. Titles and status mean little; what truly matters is that you stand beside me as my husband. Together, we can turn any place into a haven of joy and love."

"My enchanting wife," he breathed, drawing you into his embrace, his arms encircling you with a protective warmth that seemed to shield you both from the trials of the outside world. It was a warmth that whispered of resilience, an unspoken promise that together, you could withstand anything life threw your way.

——

And so, with a gentle whisper of fate, the tale of General Marcus Acacius and Princess Aurelia drew to a close, for now. Yet, the embers of their love glimmered with an unquenchable flame, destined to endure through the sands of time, stretching into the infinity of eternity.

Notes:

I know, I know, I’m feeling pretty sad too. Writing this chapter was super tough for me since I’m not a fan of goodbyes and usually skip the last episodes of TV shows. Hope you liked this final chapter. Huge thanks to everyone for sticking with the series from start to finish! If you can’t get enough of Marcus, I’ve got some good news—I’m working on a totally different fanfic about him, so keep an eye out! But first, I need to have a little cry. Catch you later!