His life was about to be taken. Caracalla had a blade to his neck, having slashed Geta’s hand. The blade was dull, as Geta had all ten of his fingers- only five were bleeding.

He had been watching the chaos of the empire, the hatred from the people, the citizens. Geta had done the wrong things and made the wrong choices. Or maybe the gods did. He was their vessel, after all.

But right now, he was trying to break the spell Caracalla had fallen upon. The episode that made the brother full of rage and irritation. Neither boys knew you were near.

You were extremely dear to Geta, more than just a noble woman. You were his. What could you do right now, your husband about to be decapitated by his own twin brother…?