6.
October 8, 2025 at 5:32 AM
I felt unwell, which was strange, since it was usually my brother who got sick. I spent the whole day in bed, sending Caracalla alone to another useless Senate meeting, and then to the games at the Colosseum. He didn't want to leave, preferring to spend time in my company. And he wouldn't have left so easily if it weren't for the doctor, who said I needed rest. Rest... Alas.
The doctor assured me that nothing serious was happening to me - it was all due to stress. Therefore, I decided not to leave the bedroom, giving the servants the opportunity to ply me with healing potions, change the bed linen, and simply indulge my whims. I didn't want to see anyone, and I didn't want to solve anything. My thoughts were confused in a sick delirium while I dozed, and only one person surfaced before my eyes - Macrinus.
Having carved out such conveniently free time from feasts, games, and meetings, I pondered the situation with Acacius and Lucilla. The slave owner set up the general for a reason, moreover, he somehow learned about the conspiracy. Did this mean that he had some connections that I didn't know about? Who could have whispered to him about Acacius's plans? Every time I got close to answering the question, it eluded me, driving me crazy. The only option I saw to solve my problem was to kill Macrinus. Not even publicly execute him, but to arrange an accident.
I was stopped only by Caracalla. After the pain I caused him by poisoning his parents, I understood perfectly well: he would not forgive me for killing Macrinus. And I, in turn, could not live peacefully, having made my brother unhappy. The only consolation was that today the slave owner's gladiators did not participate in the battles, which meant, according to all the laws of logic, Caracalla should not have crossed paths with him. I won a couple of days that I couldn't spend wisely. The illness still knocked me down.
***
(author's note: the track "Sails" by Ambray)
I wouldn't have noticed her arrival if I hadn't heard a pleasant voice. Alfrea was standing at the threshold of my bedroom. Her hair was loose again, and a white tunic was draped over her naked body. The girl always looked indecently simple, although the concubines in the palace were well cared for. The cheap look, in my mind, contrasted sharply with the expensive clothes and rings of her father. From Macrinus, she inherited only swarthy olive skin; otherwise, they were two different people, whom you would not suspect of being blood relatives. At least outwardly.
"Master..." Alfrea began, while awkwardly shuffling in the doorway, "May I come in?"
I recognized her by her intonation and immediately ordered the servants to leave us alone. The arrival of Macrinus's daughter was the least of what I desired.
"I told you to call me Geta," I muttered, settling more comfortably in bed. "How did you get here?"
"You yourself said that I could move freely around the palace. The other concubines told me that you were sick, and I decided..."
I didn't let her finish.
"Come in," I cut her off. I didn't want to see her, but for some reason, I didn't want to kick the girl out either.
She quickly crossed the room and sat on the edge of my bed. I smelled the expensive oils emanating from her body. Apparently, she had taken a bath before visiting me.
The awkward silence lasted about a minute, or maybe more; I completely lost track of time. I stared at the ceiling, and Alfrea seemed to be studying my face. Suddenly, she moved closer and took my hand, which was lying on the blanket. Her palm was cool but soft, so I didn't unclasp my fingers.
I tried to break the silence, coming up with topics for conversation on the fly.
"How do you like the palace? How long have you been here?"
Not that I cared.
"In a week, I've heard too much gossip among the concubines," she smiled, "and I'm not used to luxury yet."
"Do the other girls bother you?" I asked.
"No, of course not..." Alfrea hesitated with her answer. "But for your attention, at times, there is a struggle not for life, but for death."
She said all this with a slight smile, as if she didn't attach any importance to the inconveniences that bothered her. I stroked the back of Macrinus's daughter's hand with my thumb.
"It's been like this ever since I turned twelve," I smiled back. Talking to her... calmed me down? I seemed to be less anxious, my problems seemed to fade into the background.
"And what happened when you turned twelve?"
"My father allowed my brother and me to keep concubines. He himself loved only our mother, so we begged him for a long time to allocate funds for all this entertainment. It seemed pointless to him, but in the end, he gave in," I chuckled. Caracalla and I really spent a lot of effort persuading the emperor back then.
"You must miss him?" Alfrea asked a question I always had to lie about.
"You could say so," I answered gloomily, not wanting to develop this topic. "If the other concubines bother you, I can allocate separate chambers for you."
"I'm not insisting. I just would like to spend more time with you. Whether I live with the others or end up locked in my own bedroom..."
"You are my guest," I interrupted her again, "feel at home. The palace is huge; there is enough room for you here."
Alfreda paused in thought.
"As you wish, my Emperor," she said, freeing her hand.
I looked at her face, and for a moment it seemed attractive in its own way. I felt sorry for her — it seemed she had sincerely become attached to me, and I continued to gain her trust with every word. Nevertheless, there was something special about the girl. I couldn't recall any instances where I felt empathy for concubines. Usually, they were expendable, both for me and for Caracalla. The latter was especially cruel to them.
Despite our closeness with my brother, we never knew, remembered, or were interested in each other's servants. I didn't know a single concubine that Caracalla had, and my brother, accordingly, had no idea who I spent my free time with. Sometimes he could find me with a girl, and then that girl's last meeting was with the gallows. However, his decisions never faced my objections. That's precisely why my brother shouldn't have crossed paths with Macrinus's daughter — the reaction was predictable, and the ending obvious. This became clear even at the coronation feast.
I wasn't so jealous, although I tried to make Caracalla love only me. Of the two of us, I always appeared more sane in the eyes of others — however, such an observation is debatable. Even though I didn't have such a serious ailment that befell my brother and affected his mind... I was much more dangerous. The realization of this came to me quite recently when Caracalla said that he was left alone with a beast. Perhaps I really was a beast: faceless and insatiable. And most importantly, I was completely satisfied with this.
Alfreda... Speaking of her — there was no definite plan yet. Especially now, when I was overtaken by illness, I couldn't reason properly. The girl came to me when I was feeling bad — perhaps this deserves praise and testifies to her sympathy. But I was spoiled with sympathy, and her kindness was of no value to me. Besides, that minute-long dialogue with Macrinus that I overheard hadn't been erased from my memory at all, despite the fact that I had drunk a lot then. I kept reminding myself that Alfreda could very well be a wolf in sheep's clothing, and therefore I shouldn't play the good emperor with her.
"You have a fever," I heard a worried voice and only then noticed that her hand was now resting on my forehead. "I'll call the servants."
I had to admit: I really felt bad. I was lying under three blankets, drinking nasty herbal decoctions that didn't help at all, and periodically falling asleep. I didn't even know what time it was and understood that it was daytime outside only by the golden rays of the sun breaking through the narrow windows.
"There's no use from them anyway," I said quietly. "Stay."
Alfreda frowned and started to get up.
"That's an order," I added sternly.
"Geta, don't be so capricious. You need a doctor and rest," the girl replied softly, adjusting the top blanket. Her hands were so thin that it seemed she barely had the strength for it.
"I'm quite calm while you're here," I retorted. I had absolutely no desire to argue with her, but her presence really made everything different.
Alfreda hesitated, looking into my eyes. I held her gaze.
"The games will be over soon," she gave her last argument.
I didn't immediately understand what she meant and was taken aback for a few seconds. Only then did it dawn on me: it meant that my brother would be back soon. It was really better for Caracalla not to see the girl in my bedroom, but how did Alfreda guess this?
In any case, she was right.
"I will give orders to allocate you chambers in this wing," I concluded, "as soon as I feel better.
The girl smiled warmly, nodded, and touched my cheek with her cool palm."
"Go," I whispered, sliding back down the headboard of the bed into a soft cloud of snow-white pillows.
I didn't hear or see Alfrea leave, instantly dozing off.
***
"Brother," a familiar, slightly high-pitched voice was heard over my ear.
I opened my eyes and, not noticing Caracalla, was confused. My brother continued to say something, and only then did I realize that I should have turned on my other side.
Caracalla looked pleased. There was still some smeared makeup left on his face, which he apparently hadn't washed off yet; and my brother had changed into a home toga. Apparently, he enjoyed today's games.
"You weren't listening to me, were you?" he muttered resentfully, but without waiting for my answer, he continued, "How are you here?"
"I don't remember the last time I felt so unwell," I answered honestly.
"You know, the games turned out to be interesting… But the Senate meeting was so boring that I wouldn't mind being in your place," Caracalla lay down in my bed, snuggling up to me. When he called the meeting boring, it meant that strategically important issues were being decided there that required my participation.
"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.
"Someone gave someone some ancient ring of omnipotence over the legions, and now Acacius' army is going to come here to overthrow us," my brother replied innocently, trying to get comfortable on the pillow.
I was horrified.
"And what about you?" I instantly felt even worse than I had in the morning. And it seemed that it couldn't get any worse.
"Well, the senators and I thought about it and decided… How many did Acacius have, five thousand? Well, there are six Praetorians in Rome alone. Everything is in order, brother," Caracalla smiled. "I won't let you down."
"Lord…" was all I could say. Macrinus and Acacius weren't enough, now the best army of the empire is going to war against its own rulers. Quintus. I urgently needed Quintus.
"What's wrong with you?" my brother asked, noticing the change in my face.
I tried to jump out of bed, but, getting my foot tangled in the blankets, I fell to the cold floor, catching a silver tray of potions that was standing next to the bed.
"Geta?" I heard a voice behind me. "You need to lie down, I'll take care of everything."
"Bring Quintus here," I ordered the maid, who hurried to appear at the unprecedented crash, "urgently."
"Don't worry, brother," Caracalla drawled, continuing to bask in bed, "the senators and I have thought it all over and discussed it. Why are you so nervous? The army hasn't even moved out of Ostia yet, we have plenty of time…"
"This is no joke, Caracalla!" I flared up, getting to my feet. "Do you know what this ring is? This is the ring of Marcus Aurelius, passed down through generations! Do you understand what I'm getting at?"
"No," he admitted briefly, rising up on his elbows.
"An heir to the throne has appeared! And do you know where he got the ring from?"
"No," my brother repeated.
"Lucilla gave it to him, because she had the cursed ring all these years! Her son, whom everyone considered dead, apparently, is not dead at all! He is alive and preparing a conspiracy against you and me! First his mother tried to do it, and now, when she failed, she somehow got to him!
I was furious. I was pacing around the room, knocking over everything that came to hand, creating utter chaos, which was not like me. I had never lost my temper so badly before.
"Where did he come from?" Caracalla muttered thoughtfully, clearly not realizing what a threat hung over us.
"I have no idea! And that's the whole problem! Nobody knows who he is, and it's impossible to find out! Until Acacius' army comes to Rome and kills us, this heir will sit in the shadows!"
"That's bad…" my brother replied sadly, keeping his eyes on me.
"That's putting it mildly!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.
Caracalla tactfully kept silent, realizing that I was ready to strangle anyone I met. He sighed and sprawled out on the bed again.
"I'm with you, brother," he encouraged me. "We'll figure something out."
