EMBERS (Marcus Acacius) [WEEKLY UPDATES]

XXIV | Let the Games Begin

The thundering of footsteps overhead was incredible. A guard walked on either side of me, through the dark catacombs of the Colosseum. I felt like I was holding my breath, unable to fully inhale with the oppressive closeness of the all-too-familiar walls.

"Through here, my lady."

We entered through a door and ascended a tall flight of steps. The screaming and stomping of the excited crowd only became louder, the higher we climbed towards the light. I didn't want to be here—I would have honestly preferred to stay in the lonely confines of Aemillius' home. But, the emperor had formally invited—forced—me to attend the event, and I couldn't decline, no matter how much I wanted to.

The door at the top of the stairs led out into the bright, sunny day. There was no muffle to protect my ears from the cacophony now. Shouts and chants berated my eardrums at full force, but I kept my head down, suddenly aware of my vulnerable position.

The guards led me down the stadium stairs, towards the velvet canopy of the emperor's box. If I didn't feel claustrophobic down in the dark tunnels of the arena, I definitely did now. Despite the open ceiling and fresh summer air, it almost felt more confining.

The moment I stepped into the box, I felt out of place. Three rows of gilded, extravagant thrones sat before me, perfectly aligned. The white-robed senators sat together in the middle row, conversing quietly, heads bent down in the shadow of the two larger thrones in the front row—obviously reserved for the emperors. In the second row—on the other side of the aisle—were three more. The one on the end was visibly occupied and as I descended the steps, I soon realised who it was that sat there.

Lucilla sat with her hands clasped neatly in her lap and chin pointed up towards the sky. A small smile hovered on her lips, but her composed stance barely reflected in her eyes. I could see that it was taking everything in her to hold it together. Her flawless face barely turned when I approached.

"I'm sure you'll enjoy the spectacle," she said politely, not turning as I sat down in the seat the guards motioned towards. There was a vacant chair between us, and I could guess who it would be for. "Though, I imagine it's been some time since you've witnessed such violence."

I nodded, mimicking Lucilla's poised position. As I scanned the audience, a familiar sense of dread washed over me. I could see the medical pavilion on the other side of the sandy arena, with healers waiting to tend to the wounded gladiators. That had used to be me—in another lifetime.

"I..." I was extremely conscious of the pricked ears and wandering eyes all around me. "I'm not sure how much I've missed it."

I watched Lucilla out of the corner of my eye. The smile on her face quivered slightly at my words, but it didn't quite meet her eyes. Neither of us said anything more, but our heads both swivelled slightly as the crowds already-incredible volume grew even louder.

Against my better judgement, I turned to look around the back of my chair. At the top of the emperor's box, Caracalla and Geta stood in the aisle, hands raised as they waved to the ecstatic crowd. Behind them—adorned in the same white get-up from the day we had arrived in Rome—was Acacius. He hadn't noticed me yet, his gaze was sweeping over the stadium. But it was only a matter of time before he did.

It was obvious he didn't want to be here—he wasn't quite as skilled as Lucilla at masking his emotions. He was awfully subdued, compared to the emperors. Carracalla raised his hands, a broad grin spread across his face as the audience cheered. Geta stood beside his brother, but he had the decency to merely smile at the people in the stands.

Suddenly, brown irises flashed across my vision and I knew he had seen me. Acacius' eyes widened ever-so-slightly, but he didn't let his disbelief manifest in his physicality. He slowly made his way towards the front of the box, nodding respectfully to the emperors as they took their seats across the aisle.