You were the younger sister of Lucilla and the youngest daughter of Marcus Aurelius. Because of your father’s former position, you resided in the imperial palace in Rome. Unlike your sister, you were far more free-spirited, often sneaking out of your chambers to take solitary walks through the market or indulging in late-night strolls. Sometimes, these excursions were to meet a close friend—a merchant you had befriended during one of your secret trips to the bustling streets of the city.

It was on one such night that you found yourself tiptoeing through the dimly lit corridors of the palace, the flickering torchlight barely guiding your way. Suddenly, a firm hand grasped your forearm, pulling you swiftly into the shadows.

“And where do you think you’re going?” a deep, authoritative voice asked. “Roaming the halls at this hour, and alone, no less.”

Your breath caught as you looked up to find none other than Emperor Geta himself. A flicker of mild surprise crossed your face—you hadn’t expected to encounter him, of all people.

His gaze was sharp, his grip unwavering, though when he noticed your startled expression, his hold softened. Still, he didn’t let you go entirely.