Chapter Text
Rome 209 AD
The gates of Rome emerged into Amira’s eyesight, never had she thought she would gaze upon the Empires mighty gates.
Since her birth, she had known she was destined to become a pawn in the game of Judah court, her fathers. The kingdom was under the firm thumb of the great Roman Empire, its Imperators Geta and Caracalla ruling with an iron fist, often leading to famines and unrest in her homeland. She understood her purpose was to appease the Emperor, to draw kindness out of a madman, a task many thought impossible.
Amira’s handmaids tended to her hair, dark curls which had been blown in the mighty winds of the seas they had crossed to make the journey from Judea to Rome. She felt a pit of anxiety begin to settle in her chest, the rumors of the Emperor's cruelty had not failed to reach her ears, what life awaited her beyond these gates?
She knew not of Roman politics and lifestyle, but whilst in Judea was able to assist her Father in duties that weighed heavily on his shoulders, she felt herself capable of ruling a kingdom- but an empire?
Perhaps she would be expected only to produce an heir, but the deep sense of individuality and desire for power burnt under her skin, a fire pit within her soul raged, kindled by the determination to save her people.
The carriage she rode in bumped and shook along the cobblestone pathway that led into the city, as they passed she saw beggars and the sick desperate for food.
“Miriam, have the guard stop the carriage, allow the Praetorian to feed these poor souls.”
“Your highness, it is unnecessary for you to-“
“Nonsense, It is not as if we do not have much to spare.” An air of finality hung in her voice, and with that the carriage came to a stop.
Praetorian guards lined with baskets of fruits and grain stepped forth, hearing the desperate cries of
the people around her, she began to realize the desperate state of the Empires subjects
“The gods have sent us a saint, a blessing!”
“Praise the Emperors!”
Praetorian guards exchanged a confused yet hopeful glance with each other, perhaps Rome would not crumble after all. They finished their task, restationing themselves at the front of her carriage and continued on their way to Palatine Hill.
Imperial Palace
The carriage made its way to the foot of the palace, Amira’s eyes found their way up the staircase that was lined by men wearing armor lined with purple linens, marking them as Praetorian, her gaze falling on two men that seemed to command the attention of the lands, their presence imposing a mighty and dangerous haze upon those around them.
She was helped out of the carriage and began the trek up the stairs, the very stairs that provided a path to her new life.
Her attention was caught by the taller of the two men, a golden laurel sat upon a head of fiery red hair, a pale yet muscular frame was draped in robes of white and gold, he looked as if one of their gods was standing in her presence, his face as set in stone as the busts that lined the pillars around them.
A look she couldn’t quite decipher firmly sat on his face, his lips in a line but a fire, a calculated ambition, and power lay behind his eyes. He radiated quiet strength, which surprised her after hearing the stories of their eccentric behaviors.
Her attention shifted to the shorter of the two, she was met with the same hair and skin tone as his brother, but his face held a different story. While Geta’s eyes held a semblance of stability, his brothers was the flaming opposite.
“You are welcomed to these lands by the grace of your Imperators, Emperor Caracalla, and Emperor Geta.” A voice of someone called out.
She fought back a huff, she had only arrived, and yet the two had felt the need to establish their dominance feigned with kindness.
As she stood before the Emperors, her eyes met Geta’s. She could not deny he was attractive, he oozed an aura of power and control.
“My lady, we hope that your travels have been kind, I am Geta.” He reached for her hand, bowing at the waist. As Geta lifted himself, his brother quickly replaced him.
“ Yes, we hope the palace shall be to your, satisfaction, I trust you shall seek me out if you are of need of any assistance.” A smirk found its way on his face. She had heard of Caracalla’s conquest of maidens and gentlemen alike, yet she found herself surprised at his words.
She kneeled to the ground “My Imperators, your kindness knows no bounds.” As she stood, maids adorned her with rose petals falling from above.
Geta and Amira’s eyes once again met, the found in each other the same cool ambition, a spark had been lit within both of them, and the combination would prove to only grow this flame.