CHAPTER ONE.
the silence haunts our bed chamber

ONE YEAR LATER.

Octavia Amulius believed that with time, she would have grown accustomed to her new life confined to the four walls of the Roman Palace.

But nothing, and she meant nothing, could have prepared the woman for this life.

     There she was, looking up at the marble ceiling above, her dark, copper eyes fixated on the painting of The Birth of Venus hanging above her bed. The woman analysed every detail of the beautiful piece of art above her, from the rich paint work to the blend of the most unique shade of colours, the mix of breathtaking blues, and forest greens, it was truly a work of art. It was the only thing in the palace that gave the young woman a sense of comfort, and allowed her to rest easy during her most desolate and lonely nights. It even seemed to calm her mind during the most unsettling moments during her imprisonment, breathing what little life she had back into her lungs.

All while her soon-to-be husband, Emperor Geta, lay on top of her, his hips resting in between her legs as he continuously thrusted in and out of her. His face remained buried deep into the crook of her neck while he grunted quietly into her ear, his hot and erratic breath fanning against her mahogany coloured skin. It made Octavia's skin crawl. The feeling of Geta on top of her, his weight pressing against her, his sweaty pale skin sticking to her own, the way he took pleasure in her, unaware of the mental anguish it caused her to feel, it made her feel sick. It made her feel dirty, like she would have to scrub every inch of her body to erase his mark on her. It made her feel scorned with sin, knowing how unorthodox it was for them to play into self pleasures outside of wedlock.

But Emperor Geta, as evil and ruthless as he was, he was above all else, faithful, and he meant what he said when he declared Octavia shall be his wife. That meant he remained loyal to her, and her only.

And the Emperor had needs, needs and wants that only Octavia herself could fulfil now.

     And as much as Octavia ridiculed herself for admitting it, she allowed it to happen. It wasn't like he ever forced her to do anything (although she hated every second of the moments they shared tangled up in the bed sheets). She allowed it to happen because she had taken some strange liking to the Emperor during their time together. Octavia wouldn't go as far as to say she was in love with the cruel man, no. She still resented him for sticking her in the golden cage she was still stuck in to this day. However, a year since they agreed to marry one another, and Octavia had grown familiar with their conversations, and she often found humour in them at times. She sometimes didn't mind his company in her quarters either, whether they engaged in civilised conversation, or other activities, she would bite down on her tongue and please him.

     Because Octavia had wants and needs of her own, too. And while the Emperor could not fulfil her in ways she did for him, she patiently waited for a change to come.

     Until then she laid back and allowed the Emperor to make her his, no matter how disgusted he made her feel on the inside and on the outside.

Octavia Amulius could only silently pray to the Gods, begging for it to all be over soon.

     And when Geta finally finished, rolling off her body and onto the other side of the bed, Octavia let out a quiet sigh filled with relief before she pulled the white sheets up to her chest to shield her naked body from Geta's eyes. She would never admit it out loud, but it made her feel more secure and safe in his presence, worried about what he might do if he's tempted once more. Octavia sat up, her dark eyes fixated on the Emperor, watching as he stood up from the bed, throwing an elegant robe over himself. He then ran a hand through his messy orange hair as he walked over to the table by her chaise lounge chair, picking up a cup and pouring himself some spiced wine. All without saying a single word to the woman in his presence with him.

     Sometimes that's how it would go. He would fuck her until he grew tiresome, pour himself some wine to hydrate, and then vacate to his private sleeping quarters, or even duel with his twin, Emperor Caracalla.

So, it came to her as a surprise when Geta turned to her, a gentle and endearing grin etched at the corners of his lips. Octavia continued to glance at him, her brows furrowing together as she parted her lips to speak. "What's got your spirits up?" She probed, her question being enough to make Geta chug down half of his cup of wine before he walked back over to her, perching himself on the edge of the bed, sitting close to Octavia in the process.

"I have brilliant news," He informed, poking at Octavia's curiosities once again as he continued to smile back at the woman. Octavia sat upright and folded her arms over her chest, but that didn't stop Geta from reaching out and grabbing one of her hands with his own. "We received word from the General this morning. Him and his troops were successful in Numidia. Their land is now ours," He announced proudly, like he was the one who conquered foreign lands all on his own. But Octavia knew her husband to-be could never possibly achieve something that huge.

To put it quite simply, he was a coward.

However, the mere mention of the Roman army's invasion in Numidia left a bitter taste in her mouth, so much so that she felt her entire body tense when she saw the pleasure it brought Geta to talk about it, knowing dozens of people must have died to make the invasion as successful as it clearly was. Octavia never failed to express her displeasure in what the Emperors were forcing their army to conduct on behalf of Rome. The mere thought of the war and carnage that must have occurred that day made the woman's chest become tight with pain, anguish, and even a little rage. How many women were made widows? How many children were left behind as orphans? How many innocent souls were slaughtered as a consequence for defending their home?

It made Octavia Amulius feel sick to her stomach.

But nonetheless, she swallowed her pride and shoved her personal feelings aside, just as she lifted her gaze to meet Geta's again. "An achievement worth celebrating," She piped up, hoping her cheerful tone and forced smile clouded up the judgement she harboured deep within her chest.

"Indeed," Geta agreed, nodding his head in agreement, just as he took another gulp of wine, the scent of the rich liquid being enough to burn Octavia's nostrils. She wasn't a fan of the spiced wine, but Geta was, and she always had some waiting for him in her quarters whenever she knew he was paying her a visit. Geta then retracted the cup from his lips. "He should be arriving back to our shores in a few hours. I want you to be there to greet him with my brother and I. The General has taken a liking to you ever since your traitorous father was banished," He explained, the last sentence being spoken through gritted teeth.

If there was one thing she knew about Geta, he grew jealous very easily. If another man so much as looked at her a certain way, he would threaten to have their head cut from their shoulders.

Octavia reached out and placed her other hand on top of his, rubbing her thumb gently against his pale skin, peering into his eyes in a reassuring manner. "Acacius just looks out for me. My father and him were close friends before he betrayed you," It pained her to say those words coated in hate, and dripping with resentment, because Florian Amulius had every right to make an attempt to rebel against the Emperors. His only flaw was that he got caught. But if she didn't express enough hate for her own father, even if it was all fake, Geta would grow bitter with her, and she didn't want to know the outcome if he acted out on that harsh bitterness towards her.

     Sometimes the Emperor would leave bruises if she disrespected him in any way. Bruises she couldn't allow others to see, scared of what they would think of him, or worse, what they would think of her for putting up with his violence.

     But, truth is, she couldn't leave even if she wanted to. She was isolated by the violence.

     Sighing again, Octavia decided to speak in hopes of easing the quick few seconds of tension. "But I'd be honoured to greet him alongside you and your brother," She changed the subject, offering her husband to-be a small smile. "And I'm sure Lucilla will be pleased by his safe return home. Now that he's done all that you've asked of him, maybe her and Acacius can finally have a quiet life for a couple of years, until you need him again, of course," She elaborated. She could not imagine the joy Lucilla must be feeling right now as she awaited her husband's safe return home.

Maybe one day she would be fortunate enough to feel something even remotely similar when she laid eyes on the Emperor.

Geta didn't say anything else in return, he just chuckled and lifted his cup of wine to his lips again. His amusement left Octavia feeling weary of the man, wondering what she had said to put another smile on his face. It was only after he had chugged down the last of his wine, she found out the answer to her burning question. "There are still victories to be won, my love," Octavia's skin crawled when the one of many nicknames given to her during their time together rolled off his serpent tongue. In fact, his venomous tone was enough to send chills down her spinal cord.

Octavia furrowed her brows together, watching as he stood up from the edge of the bed to go and fetch himself another cup of wine. During that time, the woman kicked the sheets off her body and climbed out of bed, before she grabbed her robe and covered her body in the soft fabric, her soft black locks falling past her shoulders. "What is that suppose to mean?" She interrogated further.

Deep down, she already knew what he meant. She just needed to hear him say it, and to her face like a man should.

"Well, we have not claimed India yet," That was it. That was all Octavia needed to hear before she sighed again, but this time, in frustration. Geta and his brother's crusade to steal land from its original inhabitants would never stop. Not until they had everything to themselves and their empire, which was falling apart by the minute because they were choosing to neglect the Roman people. Something Octavia has disapproved of from the very moment she moved into the palace just over a year ago.

And although the woman was good at hiding how she felt most of the time, Geta was able to see the spark of judgement twinkling in her eyes. "What plagues that head of yours?" He asked, once again, bitterly, like he already knew what the thoughts swarming her skull were going to say.

Octavia shook her head. "Nothing plagues my mind," She reassured. She preferred to save herself from the argument that was brewing between them.

Geta laughed in return, shaking his head right back before he parted his lips to speak. "Don't be fickle with me. Stop biting your tongue and speak your mind," He pushed, and when Octavia's eyes met his own again, she saw the stern look in his gaze, causing for a thick lump to form in the back of her throat, which she quickly swallowed before speaking up as asked.

     "I just think..." Octavia paused, watching as the Emperor's features contorted into a look of irritation, the twitching of his angered face forcing Octavia to fold her arms over her chest, once again, trying to establish some safety and security around herself. "I just think that the funding for these wars, the resources you and your brother pour into the Roman army and their supplies would be at better use elsewhere," She admitted, exhaling a heavy breath soon after she had spoken as her chest started to feel heavy with dread.

     That fear was only amplified when she saw Geta's reaction to what she had just said to him, his eyes darkening with a glint of disbelief shining through his wicked gaze. But nonetheless, he still smiled through it all. "And where else would we divert our attention towards?" He questioned, his brows knitting together in the process.

Octavia Amulius knew there was no turning back now. She just had to speak her mind, and hope for a better outcome than the previous times. "What about the people?" She suggested, her words being enough to make Geta scoff in response before he turned away, pouring himself the cup of wine he had promised himself. "They're starving, Geta. They are living on limited rations day after day. How are you supposed to build your empire when your subjects don't respect you?" She continued.

"They're my subjects. They have to respect me," Geta argued, turning around to face her with a fresh beverage in his hand, the red viscous liquid swirling around in his cup.

"Respect is earned. You should know that better than anyone," Octavia reminded him. She could see the agression building up within his hostile demeanour, and it nearly terrified her, but she couldn't stop now. Instead she kept on going. "The people...your people, they're just as important as taking the land of your enemies. I just think you should be prioritising their needs over—"

"Maybe you should not think then!" Geta then snapped at the woman, his roaring voice bouncing off the stone walls of the room, followed by the crashing of his cup after he lodged it across the room, glass shattering across the tiled floor.

Octavia flinched in response to the man's sudden act of violence, blinking back in a mix of shock and horror when she saw the glass shards clatter against the ground. Octavia then watched as the Emperor stared back at her, his chest heaving with rage as he saw the glimmer of fear in her eyes, and didn't show a single ounce of care for her emotions. Octavia wanted to say she was offended that he couldn't even apologise for acting out, but she didn't know why she acted so surprised to begin with. This was a normal occurrence for her. He would allow her the ability to speak her mind, he would proceed to get angry at her for doing so because her views do not align with his own, and then act out violently as a result.

She just knew to be grateful that he took his anger out on a meaningless glass, and not her.

Geta then took a step towards the woman. Octavia wanted to step back, but hesitation to be near him would only create more problems than they're worth. So she stayed put, watching as Geta reached out and caressed her cheek, rubbing his thumb gently across her soft skin before he tilted her head up, forcing her gaze meet his own. "I am the Emperor. You are to be the wife of an Emperor, and that is all. Remember your place in the kingdom, Octavia," He told her, his voice barely above a single whisper.

"I understand," Octavia just managed to get out past her quivering lips. The woman then shook her head. "I meant no disrespect," She defended, forcing another small smile across her face to cloud how she felt deep down; deprived, like Geta's hand was wrapped tightly around her throat and he wasn't allowing her to breathe.

     You could say her life has felt like that for the past year, with a hand squeezing her throat and choking her to the point of deprivation.

     Suddenly, the couple were interrupted when the doors to Octavia's quarters opened to reveal the woman's sworn guard, Caius, now standing in the room with a mix of weary and concern plastered across his face as his eyes darted between Octavia and Geta. Next to him stood Octavia's lady, Augusta Carbo, who was responsible for tending to the woman and making sure she looked her best no matter the occasion ahead. To put it mildly, Augusta was supposed to be Octavia's maid, but the woman never saw her as one. During the events of the past year, both Caius and Augusta had become dear friends of Octavia's. They were both loyal to her and her only, and in return, she was just as loyal and thankful to them. They must have been alarmed by the sound of the glass breaking moments prior.

Geta spared the pair a meaningless glance before he stepped away from Octavia and left her standing alone, making his way towards the open doorway, but stopped in his tracks to look at Augusta. "Make sure she's ready to greet the General," He instructed harshly.

Augusta bowed her head, her hands fiddling with the soft fabric of her toga. "Of course, Emperor Geta," She replied politely before Geta brushed past her and Caius, leaving them alone in the room together.

     The atmosphere remaining in the room after the Emperor had left was tight. The tension was strong enough that it could've been sensed from a mile away. And it was only because Caius and Augusta hated the Emperor for how he treated his wife to-be. They believed Octavia Amulius was unlike any other royal they had encountered in the past. She was kind, nurturing, and generous above all else. She didn't treat those lesser than her any different. That's what made someone like Octavia special in comparison to most. So, to see someone as cruel as Emperor Geta treat her with a total lack of respect and empathy, it fuelled both Caius and Augusta with rage, wondering how one person could be so capable of hurting another, especially when that person was nothing more than a good human being. Neither of them could comprehend it.

     They would even die for Octavia Amulius. Would the Emperor do the same?

     "Caius..." Octavia spoke up, catching the man's attention, his angered expression quickly being replaced by a softened gaze when his eyes found Octavia's. "You may leave us," She instructed softly. Caius didn't say anything else in response, he just bowed his head to the woman and left the room, closing the doors shut behind him.

Once the two women were alone, Augusta put on a pleasing smile and started to walk closer towards where the broken glass shards laid, scattered across the tiled flooring. "Let me clean this mess," She announced, kneeling down and picking up the sharp shards, placing each one into the palm of her tanned skinned hand.

Octavia let out a shaky breath and joined the curly haired woman on the ground, kneeling down beside her and helping her pick up the shards of glass. An action that was uncanny for a woman of her position and title. An action that also surprised Augusta, whose brown eyes widened in surprise before she shook her head, her curls bouncing against her shoulders. "My Lady, you cannot help me. You don't want to cut your precious hands on these shards," She insisted, watching as Octavia continued to pick up the broken pieces on the floor, despite her instructions for the woman to stop.

Augusta wondered if Octavia looked down at the shards of glass and wondered herself if the broken pieces represented her broken relationship with the Emperor.

To answer the question, Octavia knew her relationship with Geta was never whole to begin with.

Octavia then shook her head in response. "Nonsense. My betrothed made the mess, so it is my duty to clean up after him, as all wives do," She reassured the woman, when both of them knew she should've never been put in this position to begin with. Augusta knew Octavia's story, selling her freedom to save her father's life, and as admirable as it was, she couldn't quite comprehend why she would sacrifice such a luxury to live under the rule of a mad man.

"You are not his wife just yet, My Lady," Augusta retorted, a ghost of a smile forming across her lips as she held out her hands for Octavia to hand over the last of the glass shards.

Octavia chuckled quietly and gave Augusta the remaining pieces of the broken glass, her eyes meeting the woman's once again. "And I am very fortunate for that," She replied, her choice of words causing for Augusta to let out a quiet roar of laughter of her own.

     Octavia stood up and brushed off her hands while Augusta placed the broken shards on the nearest table before she turned to face Octavia. "We should get you ready to greet the General. He should be arriving momentarily," She informed. Octavia hummed in response, a glimmer of amusement evident in her dark, copper eyes.

     "Although I agreed to what the Emperor wants from me, I do not understand why it's such a necessity for me to be present when greeting the General," Octavia ranted, taking a seat opposite the mirror placed in the corner of her room.

     Augusta joined the woman, standing behind her for a moment before she picked up the hairbrush on the table and began to brush through Octavia's messy raven coloured hair, brushing through the knots and making each curl a little more tidy than the other. "You have to be there, My Lady. The people will be there, and the people adore you. You are The Realm's Delight, after all. The people will not be there to see the Emperors. They will be there to greet the General after his victory, and maybe even catch a glimpse of you," She explained, smiling in an encouraging way.

Octavia lowered her gaze, shaking her head. "I don't understand what's so special about me," She commented.

Augusta sighed as she continued to brush through the woman's soft hair. "I wish you saw in yourself what others see in you. You are special, even if you do not see it," She argued softly.

Octavia Amulius did not say anything in response, and instead, decided to end the topic of conversation there before she allowed Augusta to continue making her look her best for the General's safe return home. The woman lifted her gaze again and watched as Augusta reached over and put some pins in her hair, styling it to how it should look for a public appearance in front of the Roman people. But all Octavia could do was stare with a blank look plastered across her face, her sad eyes speaking a thousand words for her. The woman knew she should be grateful for the things she had in life, knowing it was more compared to millions of others. She was a woman who had it all; wealth, protectors, a sturdy future behind the four walls of the palace, and most importantly, her sacrifice meant something, her father was alive, far away from the Emperors, and that was all that mattered to her.

     However, she couldn't help but feel as if something was missing. Something vital.

     Whatever it was, it was too far from her reach now.

━━━━━━━━

authors note.
This chapter was shorter than I imagined, but hopefully it was worth reading in the end. I just really loved focusing mostly on Octavia and her relationship with Geta because in some twisted way, they do care for each other, but it's so toxic and abusive that you can't root for them. And that's what I really wanted to try and highlight in this chapter to show how messy they are, and I hate writing abusive relationships so much and I'm really stepping out of my comfort zone with this one, so if it's terribly written, I'm sorry akskakskkaak

On a lighter note...Merry Christmas!!! There won't be another chapter until after the holidays now so this first chapter is my little holiday gift to you guys.
Until then I hope guys enjoyed this chapter and I'll update again soon!!