If Lucius has learned anything about the Romans in his short time as a gladiator in their arena, it would be that their empire has been built on secrecy and deceit. All of the walls have ears, no one truly has one another's back, and having information on the right people can buy you more than just luxury, land, and riches; it can buy you power.

By fighting for Macrinus as his gladiator Hanno, Lucius had been promised the General Acacius' head. Fighting for the entertainment of Rome's twin emperors, the members of her Senate, and other dignitaries hadn't been the way he wanted to achieve that, but he supposes that he can't afford to be picky about such matters in his current situation.

However, Lucius can afford to refuse to play into Rome's twisted games further, and that comes in the form of refusing to see you at the door of his cell. You, one of Geta's consorts if he recalls correctly— he'd seen you sat at the man's feet during his scuffle in Senator Thraex's mansion earlier— but he has no desire to verify if that is true. Despite your insistence to speak with him, he waves you off.

"I do not wish to entangle myself in your schemes," Lucius rumbles from one end of the cell, glaring at you on the opposite end of the barred door. "Leave me to my station and I will leave you to yours, consort."

There are worse titles he could call you, but there are also worse ones you could call him. There's no need for unnecessary arguments; you're both pieces in the games the Romans play amongst themselves; the pawns of men who wish to one-up each other without regard for those who get hurt.

"Why are you here?" Lucius asks eventually, and he rises from the floor with a grunt and stalks towards the cell door. You're risking your life being here and trying to speak with him; if Geta hasn't noticed your absence yet, it's only a matter of time before he does.

Snatching your wrist through the iron bars, Lucius examines you carefully as he pulls you closer.

"Speak, consort." Why do you entrance him so?