Summary: Geta's wife is overwhelmed by the violence of the Colosseum, but your sensitivity only deepens his love for you.
The sun hung high above the Colosseum, casting golden light across the sand-soaked floor of the arena. The crowd was roaring, nobles and commoners alike standing on their feet as blood stained the earth below.
Gladiators fought with savage precision, swords clashing, screams echoing across the stone walls.
But amidst the chaos and brutality, there was one figure that did not belong.
You.
You sat beside your husband, Emperor Geta, dressed in flowing silks the colour of rosewater, your eyes wide and trembling behind the delicate veil you wore.
The scent of iron was thick in the air, and though Geta sat straight and proud, enjoying every second of the spectacle with his brother Caracalla on the other side, you could barely breathe.
You turned your face, eyes squeezed shut as a scream pierced the air, followed by the sickening sound of metal sinking into flesh.
The crowd cheered louder.
“Love,” Geta leaned in, his voice gentle, though tinged with confusion. “You are not watching.”
You couldn’t look at him. “I’m sorry… I thought I could, but-”
Another cry.
Another flash of blood.
You felt your stomach churn.
Geta’s smile faltered. “You are unwell.”
“I can’t… I can’t bear it,” you whispered, voice quivering. “There’s so much blood, and they’re hurting each other."
Caracalla laughed from beside Geta. “She’s soft, brother. Doesn’t have the Roman stomach.”
You flinched, heart pounding.
You didn’t belong here. You never had.
You weren’t a woman of war or vengeance.
You loved flowers and quiet mornings, and Geta’s soft hands when they weren’t calloused by sword hilts.
“I shouldn’t have come,” you murmured. “Forgive me.”
Geta’s expression changed then.
The pride and amusement faded from his face, and something more tender replaced it.
He looked at you, not as a disappointed husband or a stern ruler, but as a man who loved a woman too delicate for this brutal world.
Without another word, he stood.
“Brother?” Caracalla asked, raising a brow.
“I’ve seen enough for today,” Geta said, offering his hand to you.
You hesitated, eyes flickering toward him. “But… it’s not over.”
“I don’t care,” he said softly. “Come. Let’s go home.”
You rose with him, unsure, and followed quietly through the stone corridors until the roar of the crowd became a distant hum.
When you were finally alone, back in the quiet of your garden within the palace walls, Geta sat you down gently on the marble bench beneath the olive tree.
He knelt before you, a hand on your knee. “I didn’t know it would upset you like that.”
“I know you love the games,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to be a disappointment.”
“Disappointment?” he echoed, frowning. “You think your soft heart is something to be ashamed of?”
You looked down. “It’s not fit for an emperor’s wife.”
Geta reached up, brushing a tear from your cheek. “It’s exactly what I need. Do you think I wish to come home to more blood and fire?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You are my peace. My gentleness. My reason not to become like him.”
You knew who he meant, his brother.
Caracalla, who thrived on carnage. Who bathed in it.
“You could have any woman,” you said. “Someone brave. Fierce.”
“I don’t want brave,” he said, lifting your hand to his lips. “I want you. The way you gasp when butterflies land on your fingertips. The way you cry when you read poetry. The way you hate to even see a bird wounded.”
You blinked at him, surprised by the clarity in his voice.
“You keep me from losing myself,” he said. “Don’t you see? If I forget what it means to be gentle… I’ll become a monster.”
You threw your arms around him then, burying your face in his shoulder. His arms came around you instantly, warm and solid, his hands stroking your back with comforting tenderness.
“I love you,” you said against his skin.
“I know,” he whispered. “And I love you, my gentle Empress.”
Later, as the sun dipped into dusk and the air turned cool, Geta led you through the gardens, your fingers laced in his.
No crowds. No violence.
Just the sound of birds and the rustle of leaves.
And that night, he held you tightly in bed, his breath at your temple.
“I won’t make you go again,” he murmured. “Not ever.”
You smiled into his chest. “Thank you.”
He kissed your hair, pulling you closer. “I’d rather lose the crowd than lose you.”
And from that day on, though he ruled Rome with strength, the people said Geta had grown softer.
The sunlit studio buzzed with activity as the Entertainment Weekly team prepared for the photoshoot. Pedro Pascal leaned against a column, his easy smile lighting up the room. Across the set, you adjusted the hem of your dress, trying to focus on the upcoming shoot instead of the butterflies dancing in your stomach.
Pedro caught your eye and gave you a wink, the playful gesture sending a jolt through you. You looked away quickly, praying no one noticed the flush creeping up your cheeks. Being cast together in Gladiator 2 had been a dream come true, but the secret relationship that blossomed between you and Pedro made every public appearance a carefully choreographed dance.
The photographer clapped his hands, calling everyone into position. "Okay, let's start with the two leads. Pedro, Y/N, let's see some of that chemistry everyone's been talking about!"
You moved to stand beside Pedro, who offered his hand to help you step up onto the slightly elevated platform. His fingers lingered on yours for a beat too long, and you bit back a smile. The photographer directed you both into a series of poses—some stoic and intense, others softer, more intimate. It was during these moments that your connection shone through.
"Perfect," the photographer called out. "Pedro, tilt your head toward her just a bit… Y/N, look up at him."
Pedro's gaze locked onto yours, the brown depths warm and filled with unspoken affection. The room seemed to fade away as you held the pose, his thumb subtly brushing against your hand where no one could see.
"Beautiful! Now let’s loosen it up a bit. Laugh, joke around—show us the fun side of this duo," the photographer encouraged.
Pedro grinned. "Fun? Oh, we can do fun." He leaned closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. "Remember when you tripped over that fake rock on set?"
You gasped, smacking his arm lightly. "Pedro!"
He laughed, the sound rich and contagious. You couldn’t help but join in, your shared laughter filling the studio. The crew murmured in approval, snapping candid shots of the two of you lost in your own world.
As the shoot continued, the chemistry between you and Pedro became undeniable. Compliments flowed from the team, with one stylist murmuring, "They’re electric together. You can’t fake that."
By the time the session wrapped, you were both buzzing with the high of being together in plain sight, even if no one truly knew the depth of your connection. Pedro caught your arm as you grabbed your bag, his touch brief but grounding.
"You were amazing," he said, his voice low and sincere.
"So were you," you replied, your smile softening. "As always."
The ride home was quiet, your phone lighting up with messages from friends and colleagues praising the photos that were already circulating online. But one message stood out—a text from Pedro.
Pedro: "Come over. I need you."
You felt your heart skip a beat. It was a simple request, but the vulnerability behind it made your chest ache with affection. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard before you replied.
You: "I’ll be there in 20."
Twenty minutes later, you stood outside Pedro’s apartment, your hand hesitating on the door. He opened it before you could knock, his warm smile instantly putting you at ease.
"Hey," he said, pulling you inside. His arms wrapped around you, and you melted into his embrace, the stress of the day slipping away.
You leaned back to look at him. "Tired?"
"Not anymore," he replied, his eyes scanning your face as if committing every detail to memory. "Come on."
He led you to the couch, where a blanket and a bottle of wine waited. You settled in beside him, your legs tangled together as you shared stories from the day—laughing about the shoot, teasing each other over the outtakes you knew would surface online.
At one point, Pedro grew quiet, his hand resting on your knee. "You know," he began, his voice soft, "days like this make me wish we didn’t have to keep this a secret."
You placed your hand over his. "Me too. But for now, it’s enough."
He nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "You’re enough."
The evening stretched on, filled with quiet moments of comfort and connection. As you drifted off to sleep against his shoulder, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the love you’d found, even if it had to remain hidden for now.
Summary: As Emperor of Rome, Geta rules with strength, but when it comes to you, his Empress, he is in the palm of your hands.
The roar of the Colosseum echoed, waves of cheers rolling like the tide as the latest match reached its climax.
From the imperial box, you sat beside your husband, Emperor Geta, who leaned forward slightly, eyes filled with excitement.
The games were held in your honour, a grand expression of his love for you to the entirety of Rome.
You watched him more than the battle.
His sharp profile, the way his lips curled into a small smirk when a gladiator made an impressive move, how his fingers lightly traced over yours as they rested in your lap.
You enjoyed the games, but more than anything, you enjoyed his happiness.
"You aren’t even watching," he murmured, still keeping his gaze fixed ahead, but a smirk played on his lips.
"I’m watching something far more interesting," you admitted softly.
He turned to you then, eyes warm as they searched your face. "And what is that?"
"You, my Emperor," you teased with a smile, tilting your head. "You’re like a boy watching his favourite play."
His smirk widened. "Am I? Well, it is a rather impressive show." He gestured towards the arena just as a final, victorious strike was made.
The crowd erupted, and Geta stood, raising his arm in acknowledgement before lowering his voice to speak only to you. "I arranged for a special feast afterwards, with everything you love. Even the honeyed figs."
Your lips twitched. "My, how indulgent. I wonder what I did to deserve such royal treatment."
He leaned closer. "You became my wife."
Warmth filled your chest, the kind that had nothing to do with the sun.
Your fingers found his, lacing together as he brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.
Servants ensured that you never lacked refreshment, platters of your favourites appearing, though you knew it was by Geta’s careful planning.
It wasn’t just about grand gestures, it was about making sure that you were always happy, always comfortable.
By the time the final match ended, the sky had turned to shades of pink and gold, the night settling gently over Rome.
Geta took your hand as he led you from the Colosseum, his soldiers following at a distance.
"Did you enjoy yourself, My Love?" he asked as you walked through the marble halls leading to your private chambers.
"Of course. Though I preferred watching you." You grinned, nudging him lightly. "There was something rather endearing about how happy you were."
He stopped in front of your doors, turning to you fully. "I would build Rome anew if it meant I could see you smile every day."
You knew he wasn't joking. "You already rule it. That is enough."
He shook his head, stepping closer, fingers touching your cheek before tilting your chin up. "No. You are my greatest victory. The only crown I will ever cherish."
Your heart melted, reaching up you pressed your lips to his in a slow, lingering kiss.
There, in the quiet of the palace, away from the eyes of the world, he was not just the Emperor of Rome, he was simply Geta, your husband, the man who would move the heavens and the earth just to make you happy.
And that was all you could ever ask for.
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
Wattpad
/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
Summary: Almost every day, you walk to get some bread. You never would have accepted that your walk past the Emperors' palace would not go unnoticed.
Emperor Geta saw you the first time when he looked out his balcony on a sunny day.
He saw a woman, beautiful, young, with a smile on her face, walking with a basket in her hand.
His eyes followed her as she walked.
Soon she disappeared around the corner. But not long after, she walked back with her basket filled with bread.
She intrigued the young Emperor so much that every morning when he woke up, he rushed out to the balcony.
It was not every morning when she walked past the palace. There were days when Geta didn't see her.
He happened to be angrier during those days resulting in more bloodshed.
"Where is she?" the Emperor asked, holding the curtains in his fist. His leg bounced with impatience.
Then, he saw her, walking with the same smile and basket in her hand.
Geta yelled for a guard.
"GO AND GET HER IN HERE!" Geta said as he pointed at the woman. The guard immediately nodded and rushed outside.
You were on your way home with some bread when a guard caught you.
"You, come with me." he said but when you pulled away, he grabbed your hand.
"I swear I didn't steal," you begged but he remained stoic.
"The Emperor wishes to see you." was all the guard said as you were dragged into the palace.
Soon, you saw the Emperor, the younger one.
Emperor Geta stood in front of you, in his cape, he was tall and handsome.
You bowed your head.
"Emperor. I told the guard, I wasn't stealing." you tried to defend yourself.
"My Darling, your voice is exactly as I imagined. Sweet and pure, like honey." you opened your eyes and looked at the Emperor.
You knitted your brows, confused.
What did he mean by imagined? Why did the Emperor imagine your voice let alone how did he know who you were?
"I'm sorry?"
"You are perfect to be my wife."
You were speechless after that.
Wife? Did you hear him correctly?
He must be joking. But no, his expression...
He walked over to you, and grabbed your hands into his, making you drop your basket of bread as it fell to the floor. He kissed the back of your hand.
He must have gone mad.
You will be accused of being a witch. The Emperor must have gone mad.
Well, crazier than he already was.
The next thing you knew, you were sitting in a room with the Emperor, there was a cup of wine put in front of you and you looked at the rich red liquid and then at the Emperor.
"What's wrong Darling? Do you not like the wine?" it took you a moment to reply.
"It's not that, Emperor Geta, I'm simply confused. I was heading home..."
"Do you have a husband?"
"No." your answer came way too quickly.
Why did you feel like you needed to clear that up so fast? And why did he have such beautiful eyes?
"Perfect, we will be married by the end of the next moon." he smiled and strangely, you found it calming.
---
During your time in the palace, you were given a room, clothes, food and wine.
Your soon-to-be husband definitely had a taste for luxury. So did his brother whom you have grow closer.
His childish behaviour, his laughter, and the fact that you didn't have a sibling, but you were sure this was what it felt like having one.
Emperor Geta's obsession with you didn't stop nor did it fade.
As the days passed, he had grown more and more obsessed it seemed like.
No one was allowed to touch you or even speak to you except for Caracalla.
The servants feared the Emperor might kill them if they look at you.
But why were you happy about this?
Were you truly this desperate for love?
Ever since you lost your parents you were alone. Pretending to be good and smiling at everyone when you just wanted to yell and scream.
With Geta, you didn't feel the need to pretend.
Your smile came naturally.
"My Love?" his voice came from the doorway as you turned and greeted him with a smile.
"Emperor Geta."
"Dinner is served, it will be just the two of us, my brother is attending a party." he held his hand out to you and you took it, allowing him to guide you down the halls.
"I'm happy to spend time with you." he smiled at you as you arrived and the table was filled with food, all your favourites.
"I made them cook your favourites. It is the night before our wedding after all. I wish for it to be special." he said.
"Every day I spend by your side is special." you told him as he sat down across from you.
As you ate, Rome prepared for the wedding of their Emperor. As you smiled at him, he smiled back.
After dinner, he walked you back to your room. It will be your last night there because, starting tomorrow, you will be joining him in his bed.
"Sleep well, My Love." he kissed the back of your hand, and as the door closed behind you, you knew you were doomed.
You might have been his obsession, but he became yours.
Summary: Ever since he was little he had everything at his fingertips. So, when his parents promised him a lady, he had to have her no matter what.
As a young man, Geta understood that one day he and his brother would be Emperors. He knew what that meant, power.
When his father came up to him one day, telling him that he would have a wife one day, a lady who was promised to him, Geta hated the idea.
He didn't want a wife.
But then, as the years passed, Caracalla and he became Emperors, and he suddenly realized, he wanted this lady.
She was his after all.
She was promised to him.
And he liked to keep the things he had.
And so, word was sent out, soldiers were sent out to find the bride of the Emperor.
You were raised to be the perfect wife.
You were meant to be the wife of a Lord or King.
So, it came as no surprise when your father announced that you were promised to the new Emperors.
At the time he wasn't sure which one of the twins.
But later you learned his name, Geta.
You even saw him one time although he didn't notice you in the crowd.
He looked tall and handsome.
But he was insane.
You only heard one sentence from his mouth and you already knew, he was a cruel man.
You did not wish to be his wife.
But you had no other choice.
You knew that.
As the years passed, you found it strange you didn't hear about your marriage anymore.
The Emperors soon came into power.
You assumed the Emperor might have forgotten about you.
Then one day, three guards knocked on your door.
Your parents passed away a few months ago due to illness, you were alone.
"The Emperors requested your presence." there it was. Your past coming back to haunt you.
With no other choice, you were taken to the palace.
You were dressed in a wedding gown and soon, you stood by Emperor Geta vowing your life to him.
---
Your marriage with the Emperor became a clear desire for possession.
He wanted to have you, had to have you.
And so he did.
You were a pretty thing on his arm. That is all you were.
And somehow, you were okay with that.
It could be worse because even if your husband didn't like you, and only spoke to you in words instead of sentences, at the end of the day, you were still the Empress.
You could live in your old home, alone and cold.
This was at least interesting.
Parties and gladiator games.
You enjoyed most of those, even if you weren't a huge fan of blood.
And at least your husband was handsome.
You could have worse things to look at during dinner.
Caracalla on the other hand was rather chatty with you. He constantly keeps you entertained with his silly theories.
You knew of his sickness.
You felt truly bad for him, probably it was why you were nice to him.
Seeing how he behaved like a child, you had an instinct in you.
"You seem to enjoy my brother's company more than mine," Geta said to you one evening when he happened to have a cup more than he should have.
"He simply talks more with me." you replied and you watched his eyes. He got angry. "I wish you would talk more with me, Emperor Geta." you quickly said with a sad voice.
Now that changed everything.
His anger dissolved in seconds. You offered him a smile.
"I wish I could be your wife instead of an accessory." you added quickly before standing up. "Good night." you nodded your head and headed back to your room.
Little did you know what you had just done.
Your words stuck with the Emperor so much, that he was unable to sleep. He kept thinking.
You weren't a statue, vase or jewellery. Not a sword.
You were a lady.
His lady.
His wife.
The realization hit him like a cold shower.
The next morning he barged out of his room, scaring the servants.
"Where's my wife?" he asked.
"In the garden, she is on her daily walk." one of the servants replied.
Daily?
Geta didn't even know you took daily walks.
He quickly walked to the garden and there you were, alone, looking at the flowers and butterflies.
"Wife?" he called for you and you turned around rather surprised to see him. He usually slept until late after parties.
"Emperor." you bowed your head and he stopped close to you. He opened and closed his mouth.
He looked rather awkward.
As if he was unsure of what to say or do. Which was weird for him.
Seeing him like that reminded you of something your teachers told you.
"Men are usually clueless. You must lead them. But don't let them figure out you are leading them."
So, you took a deep breath.
"Hope you are doing well this morning."
"I didn't sleep. Your words kept me up all night."
"I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention to hurt you."
"But you were right. You are my wife, I should be spending time with you. So, here I am." he looked around. "Which one is your favourite?" you blinked once, twice.
"I quite enjoy the roses." you ended up saying. "The white ones specifically."
"Oh, which one would be... the rose?"
You let out a small laugh at his expression. Geta smiled. Seeing you laugh, he hoped it was a good sign.
---
Geta and you grew closer and closer with each passing day.
You would go as far as to say you fell in love with him.
You might also know when it happened.
Probably it was the time when he made the gardens only have white roses for you.
"It is your favourite after all," he said with a smile as you looked around confused.
Or when he personally made sure the cooks prepared the food you liked the most.
"How dare you! You know well she doesn't like that kind of food! Cook her something else! Right now!"
Or when he had new clothes made for you along with beautiful jewellery made of gorgeous gems.
"This one has sapphires in it." he said as he held up a beautiful bracelet. "I'm told ladies enjoy this due to its beautiful colour." you looked at the blue gem.
"It is truly beautiful."
"Maybe, but your beauty will never be overshadowed by gems and clothes."
It could have also been when you were cold one evening. You couldn't sleep and walked around the palace, hoping to warm up.
You ran into him.
"What's wrong? You should be asleep."
"I'm cold." you replied with a small voice. He grabbed your hand and followed you back to your room.
He put a blanket over the two of you and pulled you close. You fell asleep to the voice of his heartbeat.
But it was possibly the time when he kissed you so sweetly under the moonlight.
"My beautiful wife." he whispered as his finger ran down your cheek with such love and care.
He slowly leaned in and sealed your lips in a kiss.
You finally felt like his wife.
And that is exactly who you were, his beloved wife.
Summary: Your marriage was arranged but your love for each other was not.
Marrying him was not in your favour.
He took a liking to you at one of your father's parties and now, you were his wife.
Emperor Geta truly showed his other side to you.
While people saw a raging crazy man, he was kind and sweet with you.
An unmerciful ruler, but a kind husband.
He always made sure you had everything you wanted.
And as your birthday approached, he came to you during the day.
Bursting into the room you currently sat, reading and eating fruit.
"Tomorrow is your birthday, My Darling Wife, I wish to know what it is that your heart desires?" his question was so sudden you froze for a moment.
"I believe I have everything because I have you, My Husband. But I do know you and you mean gifts, I simply wish for cake, you know my love for sweets and if it's not too much a new pet." you ended up saying.
"A pet? What kind? A tiger or lion perhaps?"
"No, nothing like that, I simply wish for a healthy kitten."
"A kitten. Why a cat if I may I ask?" you watched as his face filled with confusion.
"I adore them, and I wish for a small companion to be with me when you can't." His eyes lit up at your words and a smile spread on his lips..
"My Sweet Darling!" he kissed your hand before darting out of the room you smiled at his actions.
He left just as he arrived.
—-
The next morning came, you woke up to your husband missing from his side of your bed, but soon, he entered with servants.
All carried presents for you.
"My Love! This day is special, we celebrate your birth after all! To show my love for you, these are all presents from me."
"Thank you!" you smiled as the servants placed all gifts around you and left, leaving you and your husband who eagerly watched you and waited for your reaction.
You began with a smaller box, it had a beautiful new ring inside.
"To match my own." Geta spoke up and you looked at him, seeing his hand you noticed the same ring on his pinky.
"I really like it. Thank you."
You looked at all the presents which included a lot of different jewellery, dresses and sweet things.
"I really liked everything, Geta. Thank you." you smiled as he waved a finger at you.
"Not everything. Of course, we will hold a party tonight, there will be cake as I promised and I still have one gift for you."
The entire day went by pretty usual.
During the evening as promised, there was a party held in your honour.
You had so many sweets and enjoyed the songs. Your husband was there as you laughed and enjoyed yourself.
Caracalla was another pleasant surprise with his lovely gift. He arranged for you and Geta a lovely bath in a popular bathhouse.
But most importantly, your husband finally gave you your last gift.
"As promised, My Empress, your new pet. Name him as you please." a beautiful white kitten sat in Geta's arms. Such a small and gentle being.
You stood up from your seat and your husband handed you the kitten.
"Thank you, My Love. I'm very happy. Today has been the happiest." you said with a smile and a kiss to your husband's lips.
"It is only the beginning, we still have much wine to drink and we will head to our chambers." he whispered the last part into your ears, and you smiled at him once more.
Summary: After a small injury, you decide it is better to not burden your husband, and hide it from him. But of course, when he finds out and he is less than impressed.
As you prepare dinner in the warm glow of the kitchen, a sudden surge of pain shoots through your body.
In an instant, you feel a sharp pain in your side, causing you to wince and clutch at the source of the discomfort.
As you try to shake off the pain, you can't help but worry about how Marcus will react when he comes home and sees what you've been hiding.
The minutes tick by slowly, each second feeling like an eternity as you desperately try to compose yourself.
You know that Marcus will be upset if he finds out you've been injured and kept it from him. But deep down, you also know that you were only trying to protect him, to spare him from unnecessary worry.
Finally, the sound of the front door opening echoes through your home, signalling Marcus's return. Your heart races as you continue to work in the kitchen, your movements becoming more strained with every passing second.
You can hear his footsteps approaching, growing louder with each step.
"My Love, I'm home," Marcus calls out, his voice filled with a mix of fatigue and excitement.
But as soon as he catches sight of you, his eyes narrow, and concern replaces the joy on his face.
"What happened?" he asks, his voice tinged with anger, his eyes fixed on the pained expression etched across your face.
You take a deep breath, struggling to find the right words to explain yourself.
"I... I didn't want to worry you," you stammer, your voice barely a whisper. "I thought I could handle it on my own."
Marcus' anger softens, replaced by a mixture of worry and frustration. He crosses the room in a few strides, gently taking your hand in his.
"I appreciate your efforts, My Love, but you should never have to face something like this alone. Tell me please, what happened?" he says, his voice filled with a tenderness that reassures you.
You let out a long sigh.
"I fell. I took the wrong step and fell up the stairs. I hurt my side when I fell on the stone steps."
He carefully tends to your injury, his touch gentle and comforting. As he wraps a bandage around your side, you can feel his relentless support, his love flowing through every action.
"My Love, I might just have to follow you everyone to make sure you are safe and sound."
"I do not wish to keep you from your duties."
"Being your husband is my greatest one." he said and you smiled at him.
For the next couple of days, Marcus becomes your rock, taking care of you with such love and care.
He cooks, cleans, and ensures that you have everything you need to heal. But more than that, he listens to your fears and worries, offering a steady hand to lean on during your recovery.
Through it all, you learn the importance of openness and trust in a relationship.
You realize that keeping secrets, even with good intentions, can only lead to misunderstandings and unnecessary distress.
Marcus's anger reflected his concern for your well-being, a reminder that the strength of your bond lies in open and honest communication.
As you heal, you grow closer and closer, cherishing the deep love between you.
In the end, your injury becomes a trigger for strengthening your relationship, reminding both of you of the power of compassion and teamwork in overcoming any challenge that comes your way.
Summary: It was completely unimaginable what happened. No one expected you to get attacked during your daily walk through the gardens.
Caracalla was furious, demanding answers from your guards immediately and if they don’t give him an answer as fast as he needs them to, he would personally attack them and kill at least one.
He does not take it lightly that you got hurt, especially since they should have been with you when you were attacked.
“How did this happen?” He would ask and demand answers. When he wouldn’t get an answer, he would ask his question again but this time yelling at the top of his lungs.
You would be in the room next door getting treated, but you could hear him yelling outside.
Your husband was in a meeting with the senators and his brother when the news about your attack reached him. He immediately rushed out of the room without any explanation.
When he reached your shared chambers, he saw your pathetic excuses of guards and that is when the yelling started.
"We were walking with her when she asked us to leave her for a moment. It was not unusual. We turned around but stayed close." one of the remaining two guards explained.
"Not close enough apparently!"
"You are right, Your Majesty. She was attacked by a servant boy. Had a rope to her neck so we wouldn't hear. She fought, knocked over a vase and that is when we noticed."
"You are absolutely useless! You two will be put in the games and killed!" Caracalla waved with his hand and didn't even hear the men's pleas.
"Brother?" Geta arrived with worry written on his face. "Was she truly attacked? I will find out who did this. You stay here with her." Geta had a brotherly love towards you. He knew you were the only person able to calm and keep his brother happy.
Caracalla burst through the doors only to see the healer talking to you as you nod.
"Emperor Caracalla. Your wife is-" Caracalla didn't even allow the man to finish as he was already by your side on the bed. He watched you lay there as he grabbed your hand.
"My Love. I will punish whoever did this."
"It was Macrinus." your voice was hoarse, it pained his heart. "The boy told me." you coughed as you grabbed onto the bandage on your neck.
The vivid images of the boy pulling the rope on your neck as you tried to escape filled your mind. Your hands were shaking and your eyes filled with tears. "He was sent to break you. If he kills me..."
"We will take care of it. Geta will find the boy and then Macrinus. You are safe." he kissed your hand as his own eyes filled with tears. "I will avenge you."
You smiled at him, speaking was too painful.
You didn't sleep much that evening. The images filled your mind.
You only felt safe because you laid in his arms.
You knew he would kill the people responsible. You knew your husband would do anything to keep you safe.
The people responsible were quickly found and killed.
You got new guards.
But your husband requested that you always be with him. And you had no objection to that.
Staying with him meant you were safe.
You felt safe.
He always held your hand no matter what.
During the night, when your bandages came off, you looked at your bruised neck.
It was still very purple and the cuts of the fabric were ugly. You got a herbal balm for it, the healer said it will help with the healing.
You let out a long sigh.
"Does it still hurt?" Caracalla asked from behind you, you turned and looked at him.
"Only a little, I think the balm helps." you smiled a little.
Caracalla took a step closer and he lifted his hand, allowing the tips of his fingers to touch your bruised neck.
His touch was feather-light. As if he was afraid to hurt you more. Even if the people responsible were dead.
"I was so scared. Sometimes I can still feel the rope tight around my neck. All I could think about was you, My Dear Husband."
"Even on the verge of death, My Love?"
"Always. I worried with my death madness will take you over. I worried you would be lonely. I worried you would be sad."
"And I would be. Madly sad because I miss you. But you are still here. You are here with me." his hand moved to cup your cheek and you turned to kiss his palm.
