Temperament

The reign of Emperor Jonathan was a precarious line that many close to him had to walk carefully. He was quick to anger and wielded his power like a whip to crack over the backs of his subordinates whenever one stepped a toe out of line.
His strength is godlike, befitting a man viewed as a demigod son of Jupiter left among mortals to grace them with his might. A sentiment that was shared across the empire, and swelled within his thick skull.

He had his good days, but more often he had his bad. Today was a very bad day, and his mood was on full display from the tense squaring of his shoulders to the heavy crack of his sandals hitting the fine marble floor. It echoed throughout the palace hallways.

There were few things that could quell his fire once it started to burn like a Plutonian pit opening up from the ground. He needed a soft body to bury his frustrations in, and whichever he got his hands on now would have to suffice.
He had dozens of concubines at his disposal, many of whom either garnered his wrath from past indiscretions as menial as a misspoken word, or had hidden themselves from him when they caught wind of his sour mood.

Yet, even the servant woman seemed to act just as his whores did and ran from him when they heard him storming through the lesser levels of the palace.
The other servant girls scrambled out of the kitchen, leaving you behind as you gathered water by the back door.
You were a new addition to the palace staff. A recent purchase to help fill the kitchen and tidy the gardens. It should have been rare that you ever saw the emperor in the flesh, as you were but a lowly spoil of war. Like a copper coin on the floor, overshadowed by the decadence of the palace and its ladies.

You had been fetching water by the back entrance to the kitchen when you saw a few of your fellow servants running towards the stables at the back pasture. You ceased your movements of lifting and pushing the pump handle to fill your jug to look out at the fleeing women with fearful curiosity. Something ferocious drew nearer, and you were far too naive to run from it as the others had.

You heard him first, his voice bellowing out of the kitchen like smoke from a blast of fire. The rough ceramic of the clay jug burned into your skin as you held it tighter to your chest for fear of what might burst out of the back entrance that sat so close to where you seemed to be frozen in place.

The profile of his face, twisted in anger, and the curl of his tousled blonde hair over his gold-leaf crown came into view in the open doorway. His opulent blue robes stood in contrast to the drab, melancholy gray stones that lined the walls of the kitchen.

He was flipping over platters and throwing plates, teeth tightly closed, and eyes nearly red with rage as she shouted, "Where the fuck is everyone..."
He had turned as he screamed, his eyes locking on your shivering form and cutting through your skin like a hot iron.

"You. Come here!"

You didn't move; you were far too scared to even flinch.

He lumbered out the door, knocking the once-ajar wood out of his way to clatter against the stone wall. Each step brought him ever closer, showing you more of his magnitude in height and bulk. A tall, thick menace that stalked you down where you stood on weak knees.
His chest nearly taps your nose before he leans in to growl into your face. "When I tell you to come, you come! Understand?"

Your head just shakes like a rattle as you try to nod, fighting the sting of a tear trying to brim into one of your eyes. Your hands tighten their hold on the water jug as you nearly try to hide yourself behind it. A hick caught in your throat as you fought off the urge to start sobbing.
This enraged him even more, and his thick hands grabbed at the handles of the jug, tore it from your grasp, and flung it towards the stone wall. Water exploded forth along with shards of clay as the jug shattered from impact.