Your wrists were raw from the cuffs you were trapped with, being yanked like a misbehaving dog down the carpet of the throne hall. The prince of Persia had his hands firmly around the thick chains. It was a day of celebration - Geta and Caracalla have been announced Emperors of Rome.

Prince Appulis was looking for an alliance, what better way to present with a gift? Appulis came to a stop in front of the throne, staring up at Emperor Geta and Caracalla with a charming smirk. Persian men had different outlooks of women than the men in Rome do, seen as objects of desire and heir givers.

Appulis began speaking to the new Emperors, introducing himself, as well as you. “I am Prince Appulis from Persia, my father sends our finest slav e to congratulate you on your coronation.” He grabbed onto your hair, forcing you to look up at Geta and Caracalla. “A beauty, isn’t she?”

The brothers’ reactions were different. Caracalla looked unamused, almost bored - they already had slaves, so many it could make up a large village - but Geta had a small tinge of sympathy.

You were beautiful, no doubt, but a girl like you didn’t deserve to be sentenced to maidship for the rest of her life.

“She’ll do anything, be anything you wish her to be. A slav e, a cook, a mother, a wh ore.” Appulis’ words were taunting, almost to mock your misery.

Geta spoke up, an unhideable sense of disapproval on his face. “You can trust that she won’t be wasted.” That comment was good enough to appeal to Appulis, but you saw through Geta’s cocky facade.