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The velarium was retracted over the colosseum, effectively making a pitched roof to shelter the amphitheater in unfurled blood red canvas sails. The sun was particularly blistering that day, and no one of importance cared to wait and see if it'd let up as the games carried on.
Even in the shade, the Emperors box provided him a good eye onto the Gladiatorial match taking place in the arena below between the two young men. Too young he thought to himself watching them scuffle around. They were clumsy, dragging their feet and kicking sand up, engaging in a way that suggested they'd never so much as held a sword before. The little one couldn't have been more than ten and four years of age and the larger, despite his somewhat intimidating stature, couldn't be assumed much older.
They reminded the Praetorian much of his own sons the longer he was made to look. The same raven black hair, the same ages more than like, the same boyish clumsiness that told everyone how much of a child they still were. They shouldn't be here. He recoiled in visible distress when the larger boy dealt a vicious blow to the other one's face with the hilt of his sword. Blood began to pour, leaking from broken, shattered and gaping wounds to flow quick as the weary undertow of a river.
If the smaller boy did not stand up and fight, his deciding fate would be left in the hands of his judgement. A vessel of the Gods was perhaps the biggest jest of them all. If there was a God that truly inhabited Emperor Geta's soul, if someone clawed their way through his flesh, blood and bone to find where the supposed Gods dwelled within him, Pluto would certainly be the only one found.
Him and his brother both lived for the chaos of the Colosseum. The younger of the two always sat on the edge of his seat damn near bubbling with excitement at the sounds of steel being drawn or wild beasts snarling at some poor folk, he could not hide the way he'd lick his lips at first blood, like he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. Emperor Caracalla at least had the decency to be true to his subjects. He had made his love of blood and death known from the beginning of their reign, eyes luminous and fierce as a summer storm while he watched the bodies pile up and never apologized for enjoying the things that pleased him.
Neither of them were willing to miss a seconds time of the grand spectacles they put on, save to speak with their sister, the Empress.
A strange thing it was, her claim to power. The men of the Severan dynasty had been left to rule as Emperor and Co—tis' was so in their predecessors will—not his daughter who had still been a whisp of a girl at the time and already promised in marriage. It was her brothers who had sought to share their throne, to share their Empire with her, a feat that Rome thought impossible.
The betrothal was immediately and publicly called off after their combined ascension to the throne, siting her need to fulfill her duties to the people of Rome before she may fulfill her duties to a husband. General Acacius had wed Lady Lucilla the following summer, and the signed and forged contract of their future holy matrimony was never spoken of again, a quiet whisper in the wind of another life.
She was immensely popular among the women; noble ladies and plebeians alike, though less so with the men. The girl had lobbied against and vetoed many laws that constrained her womanly citizens in gilded cages and swept their freedoms out from underneath their feet.
Because of her, women were now allowed to enrol in the lists to fight as Gladiatrices, any and every ban placed on the practice by her own father and the men before him had been struck down like they were an enemy on the battlefield. Ruthlessly and swiftly. Because of her, widows could claim their late husband's land and businesses. Because of her, girls were not permitted to be wed or even betrothed until they reached the age of ten and six. That one had nearly caused the men to riot all over the city, Felix remembered.
She had ordered her Praetorian Guardsmen to take the hands of any man accused of rioting or publicly protesting the ban. For how many little girls can a man without hands fondle? She’d cited for reasoning.
Her brothers couldn't have cared less, something that made them fall further out of the Senate' favour. They would sit hunched over in their council chairs with bored looks decorating two pale painted faces and picking at their fingernails as if they'd rather be doing anything else in the world than listening to their little sister issue edicts and sign off on unpopular royal decrees to a group of stubborn, stinking, and rotten old men.
Emperor Geta had once declared that one could "Smell the shit from five miles away" as they had arrived at the Curia Julia.
He could feel his breeches tighten when he looked upon the Empress today and shifted uncomfortably. The most beautiful in all of Rome she was he thought airly. He had watched her grow from a girl into a woman with a most ample figure and hips that all but guaranteed strong, capable sons in her future. Her hair flowed long and curly past her waist, flaming red locks that shrouded her bright emerald green eyes and heart shaped face.
She looked just like them, Felix thought mildly. Strange, but beautiful, uncanny and otherworldly in a way never before seen by his like.
He was forgetting his purpose here the longer he stared and seeing the way Emperor Caracalla started to glare literal and figurative daggers at him made the Praetorian clear his throat and glance away at once. Her brother whispered something in her ear whilst he twirled a long lock of hair in between his ringed fingers but she did not give so much as an inclination that she cared, making it a point turn her head the opposite direction away from him. Caracalla pouted and slumped in his throne, looking greatly disgruntled from the sting of her rejection.
Trouble in paradise must be afoot Felix observed keenly, only now noticing the tension between the three siblings, so tense he could probably cut it with a butter knife.
Rumours—if they could be called that anymore—had been swirling for years, ones that he never paid much mind to until he was appointed to the Imperial household guard. Given their precarious position, one would think the twins would try to be discreet, but Felix quickly learned that vanity and pride would win with this lot every time it was put to the test. The Empress was hardly a proper a lady as one could be in her situation but her brothers—Gods her brothers—were an entirely different cruel story.
More than once he'd been commanded to grant them entry into the Domina's chambers at the hour of the wolf, or to stand sentry at the doors to turn away anyone who might call upon them. He and his fellow Praetorian guardsmen would pinch their faces up in disgust and horror at the sounds they'd hear. Sounds that brother and sister should not be eliciting when in each other's presence.
She at least had some semblance of shame, something the Emperors seemed to severely lack in, for they would emerge from her cubiculum on the morrow with content, bright smiles decorating their ugly faces that made Felix want to vomit. Of everyone she could take to bed, why them? It was no secret she took many lovers, some gossips said even more than her twin brothers did, but those were of the womanly kind. Felix felt that those could hardly count as dampers to her virtue in comparison to Geta and Caracalla.
What she needed was a man that'd whip her into shape and make an honest woman of her, he wagered, not her own brothers that let her do as she pleased and cavort herself like some publicity registered harlot. A whore parading around in diamonds some thought her, but that brood angered her so, did it not?
It was the newest topic of gossip, courtesans whispering and speaking tall tales alike, tales that were the current wedge driving itself between mother Rome' most gracious rulers. Emperor Geta had made a grievous mistake, bedecking one of his higher ranking concubines with a pair of finely made golden earrings—big and fat and shaped like a teardrop—as a name day gift of sorts for the little slut. It was all but expected for a man of high status, let alone an Emperor to reward his...companions for good service, yet she would have none of it. Not under her roof, at the least.
It was a true pity that the girl, one of many whom he'd seen sashaying up and down the halls for years in questionable clothing that left little to the imagination, had been cast aside shortly thereafter. Shoved onto the back of an ox cart that was headed for the nearest slave trade market, he recalled. Small wonder who had ordered that deed be carried out.
"Solid gold for a whore?" His sister had roared, chucking a marble bust statue of her likeness at Geta as he dodged and weaved throughout the pillars holding up the hand painted roof of the great hall, desperate to defend his person and more likely, his manhood. Her brother could only plead his case through a (in Felix's own opinion pathetic and weak) “They're plated. Not real I swear it, sister”
None of the guards had tried to stop the quarrel, no man brave enough to dare interrupt when a Severan got into one of their infamous moods. A fool more foolish than most had once tried to drag the Empress off of her elder brother by the nape of her neck and the Praetorian was the one without hands by the end of it. He had made her cry and for that, Caracalla happily turned his rage onto his guard instead.
Felix could nearly laugh in their faces, if he didn't think it'd wind up with his head being stuck on a spike outside the city gates. Geta had been the one to commit the slight against her, yet she was angry with both of them. It appeared they really did share everything.
Living in Palatine Hill was like watching the triplets of Caligula himself flutter around in expensive fabrics, ridiculous hairdos and bad spirits, but the red headed devils paid their men generously - it was the one stance he'd rush to their defence in - and so their will was his to carry out.
"Praetorian" he heard a feminine voice bark but went about watching the match. Surely she was speaking to a higher ranking officer than himself if not the head of her very own guard. Felix heard the woman click her tongue against the roof of her mouth and saw her lean forward on the edge of her lion throne quite irritably. "Praetorian"
He nearly jumped out of his own skin. By the Gods, she was speaking to him.
"Domina?" he greeted giving an inclination of his head to bow before her.
"I wish to retire to my rooms" she told him flatly whilst panhandling an empty wine glass off to her brother as if he were the help. Geta looked between them strangely, suspiciously one might say as he narrowed his dark eyes to settle on Felix. Whatever proposition his sister was about to impose upon him, Emperor Geta was giving one and one warning only to not even think about it.
"Would you do the honours of escorting me?" The Empress gave him a small smile, one that could bring a man to his knees. Felix could not help the way his feet moved to step toward her, presenting himself for the taking. So long as she kept looking at him like that he'd do whatever she wanted and damnination to her brothers for everything it was worth.
Geta was quick to interject. "Sirius is more than capable-"
"I didn't ask for Sirius did I, brother?" Was the sharp reply he got in return. She swiftly turned toward Felix again, curling her finger to beckon him closer and like a dog in heat, he obeyed. "I'm not a woman that likes to idle" she told him standing to her full height. Bountiful red curls tumbled down her back and she hugged her chiton closer to her body as she descended the dais within the Emperors Box. Without so much as a by your leave, she turned her back to her brothers and sauntered off.
Her bright eyes looked back at him occasionally as they crossed the ways to reach her chambers, all the while with a teasing smile on her delicate face. It was one that made his uneasiness grow every time he witnessed it. This seductress was going to get him killed, he was sure of it.
"Tell me, Ser.." she trailed off when they reached her cubiculum doors. "How long have you been in service to my family?"
Her question caught him unawares. Did she truly mean to discuss his length of servitude?
Felix cleared his throat, ignoring the way her green eyes looked him up and down, biting her lip like she was a predator who had just ensnared a most delicious prey. "I was appointed to the Praetorian Guard shy of eight years after your father ascended the throne, Domina"
"And your service to my mother?"
Felix frowned, wondering what game she could possibly be playing at. Rome's Empress did not seem particularly pleased to be discussing her mother, none of the triplets oft were when discussing either side of their parentage. Especially their father he thought curling his lips as if he'd smelt something awful. Ungrateful spoiled brats that they were, their father was everything a ruler should be and more and yet they tarnish his reputation so!
His coinage was melted down very shortly after his death in Eboracum and if rumour had it, smithed into decadent golden waist beads and necklaces that Emperor Caracalla gifted to his sister. All tapestry's and fayum portraits were subsequently removed from the palace in order to make room for more alabaster busts and vivacious golden sculptures of the twins. An absurdity if there ever was one, should someone ask Felix.
When he did not respond, she continued. "People always said that she was a great beauty but I wonder...would you be inclined to agree, Ser?"
Empress before her daughter, Julia Domna had been a remarkably beautiful woman. Felix could remember it clear as day now, her sitting regally upon her golden throne, wearing a grand ring of laurels around her head as she sat beside her husband. Long cascading hair down to the small of her back and light green eyes flitting over everything and everyone as they issued out orders for their military campaigns and heard petitions.
"Your mother was a great beauty indeed" he nodded more to himself than her, smiling only slightly as memories of one of Rome's golden ages of expansion passed him by. "No small wonder she gave birth to a woman of such an equal calibre"
That made the Empress smile as she regarded him. A gentle, genuine type of smile that could've made her appear softer in this light, but it was her eyes that unnerved him to his core. They lit aflame like two twin torches, bright and so very sudden. Felix could feel his foot get caught tighter in the trap, flesh skinned raw and bleeding, though did nothing to free himself from her grasp.
"You think I'm beautiful then, do you?"
His mouth puckered, gaping open and shut like he'd just had to wind knocked out of him. "I—you are—" he stuttered, blushing in humiliation when she laughed outright. "You are very beautiful, Domina. The most beautiful woman in all of Rome they say"
"I wonder.." she pondered with a finger to her chin as she opened the doors to her apartments. He did not see her move, did not see her hand reach out to wrap around his wrist and pull him close to her bosom as he was led astray into her room. The thick oak doors slammed shut behind him like a crack of thunder. "Who are they?"
He looked to the floor with a grave look. How improper of her!
"Domina...this is most inappropriate" Felix tried to caution, yet it fell on deaf ears as bejewelled fingers began to undo his white toga.
"You're shaking like a maiden" she giggled running cold hands up and down his bare chest, coming dangerously close to a place that made him stiffen in anticipation. "Don't tell me I'm the first woman you've ever had?"
"Certainly not" Felix insisted immediately. He would not let himself be seduced and mocked by her, that was a combined shame only the most weak of men willingly submitted themselves to.
"I meant no offence, forgive me" she recovered tactfully. "Surly there must be some way to make up for my indiscretion?"
It would be prudent of he to remember his place in the food chain of politics and titles and scheming that was the capitol, but when she deftly began to undress, fabrics and silks pooling at her feet to reveal the delicate bits that every man in Rome could only ever dream about into his fist, Felix felt his words leave him.
"On the bed" she commanded him curtly, gesturing to the grand lectus in the middle of the room with a nod of her head. Her hair—left loose and free unlike the other noble women—moved with her every step, flowing and rippling like water. Another small act of rebellion on her part, one that suited her quite well.
Felix could only muster the courage to perch himself on the edge, gasping when she used her leg to spread his own apart and sank to her knees in between the open space. A warm hand wrapped itself around his errect cock and used her thumb to smear her own spit around the head of it.
"Empress..this is.." he tried to speak and arch his body to curl away as a last ditch effort of resistance, though it was to no success.
"Do as your told and I might let you stick it in me" she snapped harshly, giving his manhood a lick before wrapping her lips around it. Felix groaned, hands twisting into her hair and resisting every urge to push her head down and do as he pleased with her. This was no whore in a brothel however, she was the Empress and she would have his head if it was ordered at her pleasure.
The wet, loud sounds of spend and spit became all that he heard in the room, bucking his hips up uncontrollably and throwing his head back to look at the decorated ceiling directly above the lectus. A mirror, how odd.
Felix had gotten so lost in his own pleasure, the ways in which she swirled her tongue and suckled him as if she'd done it a thousand times before to get this good and by the Gods she was so good, on the cusp of his own sweet release, that when she withdrew he couldn't help but curse at her loudly thinking that it was undoubtedly another one of her tricks.
"A member of my own guard...I'm surrounded by betrayers and treachery"
The voice was shaky, not with fear or shock but with rage. Surly not the tongue of honey and sugar that he had known all night prior. Felix reflexively opened his eyes and nearly doubled over at the sight that met him.
Emperor Geta was holding his sister in an iron grip, one hand firm on her jaw and squeezing it so hard that spit gathered and fell from the corners of her mouth with the other wrapped around her waist, effectively pinning her in place against his chest. Every twitch or jolt her body gave, he curled his arms around her tighter and tighter until it got to the point that she was letting out muffled cries of pain.
Caracalla stood directly over him like some harbinger of death and despair come to collect a debt. The bright blue eyes that haunted Felix for a many year' stared back, cold like a block of ice and unmoving. In his hand was a steel blade equipped with a pommel made of gold that was encrusted with rubies and sapphires. The Emperors body was wavering, swaying back and forth like the windy grain fields Felix’s father worked, like a lion about to pounce for the kill.
"You're hurting me!" their sister cried as best she could without a working jaw.
Caracalla whirled around to face his brother and sister at her outcry, waving the gladius in front of her face tauntingly. "Good" he spit bitterly pointing the sharpened tip at her, close enough that if she moved it'd go plunging into her eye. "Perhaps you'll become as acquainted with the feeling as we have"
She laughed loudly, teeth gritting together whilst trying to bear the pressure of their other brother's hold. "Perhaps you two will become acquainted with not treating your whores like wives? If you're to treat commoners to the finer things in life, why not I?"
"I told you they were fake!" Geta exclaimed rather childishly and threw his hands up at his sides in exasperation. His mouth was taut, dark eyes wide and piercing through Felix's very soul. Emperor Geta's usual cool and calm exterior was shattering before his very eyes, cracking into a million tiny pieces that lay discarded at their feet. It was a most jarring sight to see. He looked half mad Felix mused as he watched the Emperor pace back and forth and mutter nonsense to himself.
"So plain featured...and you dare forsake us for him, sister?" Caracalla mused looking rather unimpressed as he regarded Felix. The thought of that very notion seemed to set him into a spell of rage and before he could react, Felix felt the sting of a blade slicing his thigh open and watched silently when his lifeblood began to drip onto the mosaic floor.
Emperor Caracalla did not have the decency to look perturbed in the slight at the stock he had drawn. The boy had the gall to giggle, to laugh in his face as if the sight of marred flesh was a delightful source of amusement for his ailed mind.
Seduced and mocked he would be, it seemed.
Their sister scoffed incredulously at his comment and gave a look as if to say, Really?
"Plain featured?" The girl repeated with a frown as she looked between Caracalla and Felix. "I suppose you would be the one to think that, brother. He does not fashion himself as a woman of men's delight, so what ever use would he be to you?"
Caracalla made a noise in the back of his throat, like a wounded animal begging to be put down.
"You should be on your knees for us and begging for forgiveness! Pleading your case for mercy" Geta bit out harshly, turning to face them at last and pointing an accusatory finger, though in his rattled unstable state of mind he could not decide on who exactly to direct his ire at. His brown eyes flickered between all of them madly and clenched a fist as if the thought of his own misplaced anger enraged him even more.
"Beg for mercy?" The Empress cackled as if the idea were foreign to her. "Begging is for slaves and plebeians, I will not beg of anything from either of you"
"You brought this on us!" Caracalla exclaimed throwing a glare over his shoulder at his brother. "This would've never happened if not for you"
Geta hands flew up to cover his ears and wildly shook his head as if he were being mentally tormented by his siblings cursed beratement of all his faults and shortcomings and failures. Everything he despised about himself was being brought to light and the boy trapped inside of the man was close to breaking because of the cruel reminder. "Quiet" he whispered, voice cracking.
"As if you have any room to speak on the matter!" The Empress screamed throwing a stained glass vase of flowers at Caracalla's head. The glass shattered against the wall and fell to the floor, glittering like diamonds in the moonlight. "Why let my youth waste away for the likes of you two when I have other, more accomplished prospects being put before me everyday?"
"Quiet" Emperor Geta said, breathless and weary as he curled in on himself more than believed possible. He was talking to himself again and that never bode well in Felix's limited experience.
"You missed!" Her eldest brother gasped, looking from her to the shattered glass and back at her once more. "I could've been killed-"
"QUIET!" Geta roared, voice striking them down like a bolt of lightening. His brother and sister namely were the ones most scared by his outburst for reasons unbeknownst to Felix.
The Empress began to weep where she stood, thin arms wrapping around herself as her shoulders shook and her chest heaved out broken sobs from the back of her throat.
Caracalla lips pressed into a thin, small line. His eyes, normally so erratic and bright, darkened with hatred, grief and pity all in one as he looked to his brother. "How dare you? Will you beat us for our insolence next as he did?"
He, whoever he was made a shiver of terror run down all their spines. It was something that left Felix greatly confused, for he had never seen the Severan siblings so quiet and petrified, by a seemingly invisible force no less.
Geta looked contrite as he watched the tears pour from her eyes, reaching a pale hand out to steady her and placing delicate kisses upon her shoulder as some kind of act of reconciliation. She tensed in his hold and shied away into her hair so she wouldn't have to look at him, something that made Geta flinch and hold her tighter all the same.
"Forgive me, anima mea" he whispered gently into her hair, sighing contently when her shoulders fell slack and she leaned into his embrace ever so slowly. "I didn't mean to scare you" Geta told her earnestly as he led her to lay back on the bed and into Caracalla's waiting arms.
As per usual underneath a tyrants thumb, something just had to ruin their good mood. Felix would've given anything to be a fly on the wall at the moment but alas, he was but a man and his presence was very much so obvious when they weren't busy quarrelling with each other.
"And what ever will we do with you?" Caracalla tsked at the Praetorian like he was a naughty child who'd been caught snatching lemon cakes from the kitchens. "Brother?" he called for Geta's attention which was readily given. "He's your man, what do you make of him?"
"He has committed treason" Was the laconic reply and permission to act that he gave. Geta delivered the order with a shrug of indifference and continued to comb through their sister's hair with his fingers. He fed her a red wine grape from a fruit platter that lay forgotten on her bedside dresser—no doubt leftovers from breaking her fast this morn—and let his thumb brush over her bottom lip to catch the juice that spilled. Geta sucked his finger clean and kissed the tip of her nose with a huff of light hearted laughter.
Felix had been so entranced by the display of soft and gentle passion, one he never thought Emperor Geta capable of, that he did not notice the glittering steel blade until it was pressed against the side of his throat. Caracalla swiped his finger over the cut on Felix's leg and brought the reddened finger to his lips, giving a small pleasurable hum at the taste.
"On second thought, the Head Eunuch could make great use of him..."
"No!" His body reacted before his mind and two muscular arms reached out to push Emperor Caracalla away from him. He went flying over the edge of the lectus and stumbled to the floor with a strangled cry of damaged pride. The gladius clamoured against the floor as it slid into some dark secluded corner of the room.
All was silent and still for a moment, so much so Felix felt as if the thick air surrounding them would suffocate him right then and there. He saw a fist rising out of the corner of his eye and he took the blow to his nose as gracefully as one could, a sickening crack heard afterwards. Geta coiled a pale hand in Felix's inky black hair to pull his head back and forcefully direct his gaze upwards.
"My brother!?" he asked furiously, jostling his hostages head back and forth as if he could shake the answer out of him with enough force. "I will have you strung by your entrails from the city gates you worthless dog-"
"I know what to do with him" Their sister offered quietly as she stared considerably at them. She had long since calmed her nerves by lying in her brother's arms and eating fruits whilst Felix was being anguished from the sidelines. Cunting shrew bitch of a woman he thought heatedly. She nibbled on exotic cheeses and sliced peaches all the while discussing his impending demise as if she were talking about the weather.
"You've always wanted to try a man different from Calla, right? If he is to be executed, what harm can there be done?"
Her brother blushed something mad, humility plaguing his eyes at the suggestion of debasing himself in such a way. It was no secret that their elder brother had a preference for the manly sort or that all three of them attended orgies, coming together with man and woman both, but Emperor Geta had always kept a strictly feminine itinerary around himself since he had become a man.
"Don't be like that, brother" she cooed with a pout as she crawled to him on her knees. Her lips met his in a brief kiss and long painted fingernails began running through his hair to massage his scalp. Like an obedient kitten he snuggled into her hand and looked more than content to stay exactly where he was in her embrace. "Pretend he's me or Calla if you must"
"Tis' not so bad" Caracalla chimed in with his own opinion on the matter as he climbed back into bed, but not without cutting a wrothful glare at Felix. "The men are...fun to take" he said carefully weighing his many options of descriptive words. "Not as fun as our sweet sister, that is" Caracalla snickered as he wrapped his arms around his sister's midriff to pull her onto his chest. His fingers danced up her sides earning delightful giggles as she tried to push his hands away and squirm out of his hold. "On my face?" he near begged when the idea suddenly seemed to strike him, eyes big and oh so hopeful.
When she nodded he smiled, a single golden tooth shimmering in the orange glow of burning oil lamps. She looked particularly giddy at the sight of that for some odd reason. Her thighs parted on either side of his head and she was given no time to adjust before her brother pulled her down onto his mouth the second he set his sights on the true prize in between her legs.
Hands tangled in his hair as she let out low moans and tried to grind onto his face, but to no avail due to the strong grip Caracalla had on her hips.
Felix watched her, watched them, albeit a bit shamelessly. The way her breasts bounced with every high pitched little noise she made and the way Caracalla's cock was becoming erect through his own clothes.
"Come, slave" Geta snapped yanking on his hair once more and dragging him to the edge of the lectus. He was bent over the edge, feet planted on the floor and legs spread apart with Emperor Geta hovering behind. "I've heard from my brother it is better if you relax"
Felix felt a thick glop of cold spit around his entrance before the searing pain of skin breaking and involuntary being stretched made him cry out in pain through clenched teeth. Geta did not care for his pleasure or comfort, only his own as he focused his attentions on his brother and sister just inches away.
They had entwined their hands together as she rode out her orgasm, breathless pleas and whines spilling past her lips quick as an overflowing cup. Caracalla smacked a ring clad hand down onto her thigh that made her cum with a surprised yelp as she chanted his name like it was a prayer to Gods and men.
Her brother licked his lips like a man who'd just dined in the finest of feast halls and did not waste any time to be inside of her. She was speared onto his now exposed cock and commanded to ride him, an order to which she happily complied.
Felix could only heave out laboured grunts and groans of agony with every harsh thrust Geta gave, a stark comparison to the two having the time of their lives beside them. The man behind him panted in his ear, muttering about how stiff and ill suited he was for this role.
"Are they not beautiful?" Geta asked dreamily as he watched them engage like man and wife. When Felix did not answer quick enough, he felt the smack he got to the right side of his face and it never stung so badly. "I asked you a question, plebe. You will answer me"
Felix choked back a scream when Geta lifted one of his legs to rest on the bed and started to set a rougher pace into him. "B-beautiful..very beautiful, Imperial Majesty"
"You should feel honoured," Geta gritted past his teeth. Neither of them could make up their minds on where to look to, though the choice became simple when they watched Caracalla snake his arms around her and flip them over. She landed on the bed with a small gasp, one that grew in volume as he pounded into her with a force that made her cry out. "You're the first man I've ever had, save for my brother of course" he said as if it were a most obvious thing.
"Geta" she moaned, reaching out to grasp his hand in her own. The touch seemed to electrify them all, as if a thread had snaked a noose around each of their necks and connected them through an invisible force. They moved in sync, moaned in sync and finally, took their pleasure in sync.
The beauty and strangeness of twins, Felix thought dazed as Emperor Geta withdrew from him and made quick work of throwing on one of his sister's night robes over his shoulders.
Unimpressed he was, then.
"Cover yourselves" Geta demanded sharply to Caracalla and her who only separated their lips to give him a conjoined glower of annoyance. Begrudgingly, they both got underneath the purple silks and kept a faux distance from one another. As if it wasn't obvious enough.
"Guards!" Emperor Geta's shrill voice rung out and in a seconds time three Praetorians burst through the doors, sword drawn and at the ready.
One of his sworn brothers gasped, "Felix?"
The Emperor pressed his pale lips into a thin line and his left eye twitched every so slightly the longer he was made to look at the batch of incompetent fools. Such a subtle sign of agitation, but one that effectively let them know he wasn't to be taken lightly this eve.
"This prisoner has committed treason against your Empress and called her virtue into question. Escort him to the Imperial gladiator stables at once and you'll see your wages doubled next moon” Geta smiled something sinister, a most exiting idea striking him. “He'll sleep with my sister's pet tiger tonight, if you'd be so kind"
Loyalty was bought and bartered in their midsts everyday, and what was one, unimportant man next to a chest of polished denarius that shined so bright one could see their own reflection staring back in the glare.
Felix was brought to stand and was not given the clemency to dress himself as he was hauled out of the Domina's chambers. He cast a look over his shoulder and seen her—the woman who'd gotten him into this mess, the woman who'd knowingly condemned him to an early grave—give a tepid wave goodbye just before the oak doors slammed shut and echoed through the hall.
Two great evils and their shrew devil bitch, indeed.