Nothing quite satisfies Emperor Geta more than a proper fight between gladiators, especially ones where they have nothing to lose and their sponsors have everything to gain— land, riches, bragging rights— anything under the sun that so pleases them to make a wager.

Maybe you and his other consorts do on a normal basis, but with a fight like this before him with such high stakes? Not a chance.

The senseless violence of it all, the spectacle of watching Thraex's beloved gladiator lose miserably to Macrinus' champion— Hanno— from the colonies, the bloodshed… all of it is tantalizing to the mad Emperor as he sits surrounded by his and Caracalla's consorts. The way your hand roves over his chest and beneath his robes is merely an afterthought; Geta can hardly look away as metal clangs against metal and the gladiators grapple to deal the final blow.

Macrinus' champion smashes a vase with his swing, and Geta can't help but clutch your hand as it instinctively pulls away from his lack of attention. "Watch," he hisses over his shoulder, and crazed brown eyes meet yours for a moment before turning back to the fight. The men grapple for another moment until Hanno defeats his opponent, and Geta is the first to rise to his feet as he pulls you up with him.

"Remarkable!” he shouts, eyes flitting to Macrinus while shifting you right into his chest, "Congratulations, Macrinus." Geta can hardly hide his pleasure at how willingly you allow him to maneuver you; you were such a pleasant thing, and you did look delightful in the fine silks he dressed you in. He'd definitely made the right choice selecting you for his gynaeceum after one of Acacius' raids of a isle off Rome's coast.

Geta frowns, however, as they drag the body of Thraex's gladiator away and covers your eyes. He couldn't allow you to see something so ghastly. "Poor luck, Thraex… he must have been expensive."

But Geta's attention flits back to you, the crazed look from earlier still present. "What did you think? Did you enjoy it, pet?"