let's escape reality together

The girl looked to be young, probably a bit younger than (Y/n) herself and she had caramel skin and such wide eyes that seemed almost too big for her face.

There was a small basket in her hands and a rag sticking out of the top, cleaning supplies most likely. The basket was hanging down near the floor as the girl leant forward, analysing (Y/n) like she thought the Empress might well be dead laid there on the chaise lounge.

"Are you alright, Empress?" The maid didn't dare make a move until the Empress spoke.

She didn't want to begin dusting and trying to tidy the usually empty, isolated library in case she disturbed (Y/n). She might have been Empress for a few short weeks, but none of the servants would want to upset her. They didn't know what Geta would do if that happened and no one wanted to find out.

With a deep breath (Y/n) brought her hand up and rubbed at her eyes as she pushed herself to sit up and look a bit more lively and presentable.

There was an awful ache in her lower back, presumably from the way she had slept, and the blanket was half draped over her legs and half on the floor. There was her book laid neatly on the floor by her sandals.

(Y/n) wondered if she looked unruly, if she was a mess and if this was going to spread around the palace as an invaluable piece of gossip.

"Quite… I must have lost track of time."

Her smile was inviting and polite and she clasped her hands together on her lap once the blanket was tossed to one side. (Y/n) was rather surprised she had remembered to put a blanket here in the library for nights like this.

Her bare feet touched the floor and shivers rolled through her skin at the cold contact, but it proved to be useful in livening herself up. Her back straightened up against the cushions and she tried to look alert and presentable as she stared up at the maid who seemed to have calmed down a little. Clearly she had been shocked when she walked in here and found the Empress fast asleep.

And (Y/n) was certainly not going to admit that this was where she spent most of her nights and this was what she had come to call her bed since she had moved into the palace.

"Would you like me to tell the Emperor you were in here? He must worry where you are."

Everyone who worked in the palace knew how both Emperors could act. Most liked to avoid Caracalla in fear of his horrible mood swings, one moment he would be grabbing at them and playfully calling out to them and other times he would be screaming and launching ornaments in their direction.

Geta was the Emperor who no one conversed with, who people were uneasy around because of how precise and controlling he could be.

The maid clearly thought that the Emperor would be concerned that his wife had spent the night here in the library instead of in her room with him. She didn't want him to worry where his wife was or panic and think that something had happened to her when that clearly wasn't the case.

A flash of worry sparked through (Y/n)'s eyes before she managed to mask it and put on a calm smile that shone as brightly as the morning sun in the sky. Her hands clasped together in her lap, pressing down harshly into her thighs to stop herself from fidgeting or tapping too much.

She shook her head timidly, trying not to look overly concerned or eager. "Oh no, he- he will know I'm here, I- I'm always here."

"Very well."

(Y/n) certainly didn't need this girl going to Geta and telling him not to worry, that his wife had fallen asleep in the library. Because then he would have to put on a faux sense of concern and dismiss the maid. He would be irritated by the news because he didn't care.

He knew very well that (Y/n) hadn't spent one night in their supposedly shared bed chambers since their marriage, and he didn't care one bit.

Her teeth sank down into her lower lip when her mind cast back to that first night here in the palace and how it had turned out.

"This union wasn't my decision."

Was that a question? Was (Y/n) supposed to give a response to that, to agree or try and prove him otherwise?

Her eyes were as round as saucers, pupils blown wide and watching Geta with enough unease to make her look like a timid rabbit that was about to be slaughtered by the hunt.

She decided not to give an answer because she couldn't fathom any words to say that would be helpful. It wouldn't do to tell him that this hadn't been her decision either because he already knew that. This marriage was for the better of their two empires, this was to create an alliance, to forge a union that neither country could break.

It hadn't been up to (Y/n) and she had no part in agreeing to this marriage, it had been decided and she understood. Arguing the point wouldn't have done anything but antagonise her father. And (Y/n) knew almost nothing about Geta, she didn't know if he would be insulted or irritated if she stated that she didn't ask or at first want to marry him either.

(Y/n) settled for nodding when Geta looked in her direction, proving that she was listening but that she wouldn't antagonise him.

"I am tied to you for the good of Rome; I shall not be made to endure your presence in my own palace."

It took all of her willpower not to flinch at those words. Was she such a horrid person to be married to? Was her presence irritating or off-putting to Geta? Did it not serve any of his purposes to be married, and to be married to her?

Again, she chose to remain silent and not point out that she was also tied to him, for the remainder of her days, for the good of her home country and for the good of Rome which had now become her main home. Her main concern, her main nation.

This wasn't her idea or for her own benefit just like it clearly wasn't for Geta's benefit to be married to her.

Her hands fisted in her golden dress, the bangles on her wrists clanging together and holting when they caught the edge of her dress or the side of her hip. It was all she could do to stop herself from scrunching the fabric too tightly and causing wrinkles and creases.

She remained glued to the spot, staring at Geta's back as he faced the bed like he couldn't find it within himself to turn and glance at her when he spoke.

"Stay where you choose, do as you please."

(Y/n)'s lips parted but all that managed to come out was a quiet "oh," and nothing more.

The waft of Geta's hand in her direction made her want to take a step back, but her feet would not move.

Did he not want to consumate the marriage? Was this a ploy? If they didn't consumate the marriage then there would be ground for annulling the marriage. And (Y/n) would hate for that to be the case and for the blame to be placed solely on her shoulders.

There was no better match for her than to be betrothed and married to the Emperor of Rome. If this was annulled and she was said to be the reason, she might never find another match.

As much as the thought of lying with Geta intimidated (Y/n), it was a necessity she had wanted to get out of the way. This marriage would be firm, unbreakable. If she had a child then her place as Empress was secured and she wouldn't have to think or to worry about her future here and what any of this would mean for her.

Geta didn't want her around. (Y/n) hadn't been expecting this.

She had expected to be his wife like any other marriage. To have to lie with him whenever he wanted, to have to constantly try her best to please him, to remain at his sides at all times like a prize. She thought they would be engaged in conversation, that she would spend most of her time around him. In the very least she had expected to share a bed with him like she had been repeatedly told when everything was discussed with her and she was told what was expected of her.

But antagonising her new husband wasn't going to do her any favours and (Y/n) didn't want to upset him because she didn't know what his reaction would be or what he would act like if he were irritated and upset.

It would be best all around if she agreed with him and let Geta make the moves and approaches. She could follow his lead and let him set the pace, that way there would be no problems or arguments.

He seemed to realise she still hadn't moved, for he turned and looked at her with arched brows and slight annoyance dwelling within his eyes.

"Go. It's of no concern to me where you spend your time- as long as you don't entertain other men."

It didn't sound like he cared very much. Perhaps he wanted this to be a marriage on paper and nothing more. But then if it was nothing more, wouldn't people begin to talk? Wouldn't they notice that the couple spent no time together, that (Y/n) wasn't staying in her own bedchambers with him. And if she had no child, they would certainly speculate and think something was wrong with her, that she was barren.

She could see in his eyes that he had said that last part because he didn't want this to be known. He didn't want news spreading that they weren't a proper couple.

(Y/n) would never dream of going with another man.

She was married, she understood the sanctity of this marriage. If she were to sleep with another man and someone found out, then it would be an act of treason on her part. There was no consequence of Geta being with other women, but (Y/n) couldn't. She was supposed to produce an heir to the throne and that heir had to be legitimate, it had to be Geta's child and no one elses.

Perhaps he would change his mind soon, maybe he just needed time to adjust to this new situation. And (Y/n) would do whatever he asked of her.

She would become a better wife for him, she would make him happy, make this union worked in any way that suited him.

They had a lifetime together to make this work.

With a nod of her head and her hands still clasped in front of her, (Y/n) bowed and began to step back. "Of course, goodnight Emperor."

Curiosity burned within Geta's eyes as he watched her leave the room. She didn't even bother to go to the trunk in the corner of the room that had been brought in this morning containing most, if not all, of her things.

She didn't take anything with her. She didn't stop and tell him that she wasn't going to be shunned or dismissed like one of the servants.

And he noticed, more as an after-thought than anything else, that she had such a sweet voice.

***

Excitement coursed through (Y/n)'s veins and made her lighter on her feet that barely seemed to touch the floor as she glided through the halls.

Her eyes brightened like flames were burning within them when her sights set on Geta and the little entourage of servants and guards following after him.

He was going to the colosseum, and (Y/n) was permitted to go with him. Of course, he had only asked her because the people of Rome would be very suspicious if their Emperor's new wife wasn't seen by his side whenever he made his limited public appearances.

(Y/n) wasn't sure whether or not Geta would be fine with her going out into the streets of Rome without her, whether she took some guards with her or not. He might not want her going out without him, he hadn't really said, and (Y/n) wouldn't do anything that would upset her husband. She had remained inside until the times he called on her and said they were going out.

When they went out they stood side by side, sometimes he took her hand and kissed it in a display of public affection to appease the people. They sat close together, they shared carriage rides, and that was as much intimacy as they would have.

(Y/n) was simply grateful to be around Geta, to be by his side and allowed to venture out of the palace walls with him.

A hint of confusion pooled within Geta's eyes when he looked to his right and saw his wife approaching him. His wife for all intents and purposes of Rome, and no more.

She was always smiling when he saw her, always so eager to be by his side and leaving the palace. Always happy and joyous and kind, so incredibly kind to any servants who talked to her. Anyone would think she were one of the low born people of Rome who had been allowed to live among the royals. It always surprised Geta.

He noticed the way that she greeted him too. How she nodded her head and dipped into a curtsey to him.

"Good morning, I trust you are well."

For the life of him Geta couldn't understand why she was being so kind, and to him of all people. It wasn't like they were in public yet, being observed and watched by the people and expected to be somewhat loving and share a certain sense of intimacy together.

"You don't have to do that, you're not one of them." His eyes made a sweeping glance towards the staff hovering around them.

There was no need for (Y/n) to curtsey and show him that level of respect. She wasn't a maid, she wasn't someone who always had to wait for him to speak to her before she could talk or even look at him.

(Y/n)'s eyes cast down towards the marbled floor for a moment while she and Geta fell in step beside one another.

"The Emperor deserves respect, especially from his wife." Was the tepid response she gave in that sweet tone of voice that almost irritated Geta because why was she so understanding?

He glanced sideways down at her through narrowed eyes. "And you respect me?"

"Of course I do."

Her response was instant, no time given to think it over because she knew the answer and she knew it was true.

It didn't matter how cold or unsure or arrogant Geta was when he acted towards her. He was her husband, and (Y/n) would always afford him the respect that he was due. He hadn't been cruel towards her, he didn't shout or raise a hand or embarrass her in front of anyone, so she would never do that to him either.

Each time she saw him she would smile, she would nod or bow and speak kindly to him because they were married, and she was supposed to respect Geta above all others. She didn't need to be so formal and kind to him, but she would because that was how she was taught to act. That was how she wanted to be, how considerate she wanted to act to the man she was married to.

How would she be a good wife if she turned away from him or didn't talk to him at all or gave him a snotty remark? How would any of that help their situation and make things better?

(Y/n) wanted their situation to improve, and all she had was time and her personality to win Geta over and prove she could be a better wife. She would be the wife he wanted, even if this marriage hadn't been decided or chosen by either of them.

Surprise swirled through Geta's mind as they began walking. He didn't think she would be so considerate towards him, not with how he had shut her out and how he didn't want her presence around him except for formal events and occasions such as this. He knew he didn't deserve her respect, and he couldn't fathom why she would still give it to him.

Silence blanketed around them as they gracefully walked down the corridor aiming towards the huge wooden doors at the end.

As they walked in tandem, (Y/n) glanced to her left when a small clinking noise caught her attention.

Geta was fiddling with the golden cuff bracketing his right wrist and forarm. It was a lovely item, intricate swirling designs, polished and bronzed to perfection, and the metal was strong enough that it could give a concussion to anyone Geta saw fit to whack with his forearm if he were defending himself for example.

The clasp at the side didn't seem to be doing up properly, and clearly it was irritating him because the cuff was loose and sliding down his wrist towards his hand.

With her lips pressed together into a thin but gentle smile, (Y/n) tentatively reached out for him.

Her left hand braced under his forearm near his elbow to keep his arm elevated and let him rest his arm in the palm of her hand. While her right hand secured over the cuff and pushed down so she could twist the clasp and lock it into place. The touch was barely there for more than ten seconds before the work was done, but it was the most intimate Geta had allowed her to be with him of her own accord. The only touch she had initiated between them, and he didn't push her away.

He remained still and frozen against her, watching with narrowed eyes as she helped him without being asked and without wanting anything in return.

Her fingertips ghosted across the back of his knuckles, causing shivers to ride beneath Geta's skin all the way up to his shoulder. And when the touch was gone, his arm suddenly felt heavy and hollow at the same time, moving back to hang limply at his side as he stared down at (Y/n) without saying a word.

"The colour matches your hair," (Y/n) whispered quietly, still looking at the cuff on his wrist which had been long forgotten by Geta.

Once they were through the great doors and descending down the steps, (Y/n) curled her left hand around the crook of Geta's elbow so she could stand close to his side and keep up with him. Their pace was slow and matched and she couldn't resist gliding her thumb across the crease of his elbow which seemed to make his breath catch in his throat.

She looked so happy, as if she had been a caged animal finally allowed outside, Geta thought as he looked down at her out the corner of his eye.

Such a radiant smile.

***

This felt like one of those days where (Y/n) would rather be back in the palace than out here on the streets of Rome.

That being said, she was pleased to have another visit outside the palace walls. Another morning where she could venture further than the gardens and see more sights and come across the people that were now her people, her subjects.

Being out here was such a difference to being cooped up in the library which had become (Y/n)'s home since moving into the palace after marrying Geta. (Y/n) knew she was lucky that her father had chosen to have her tutored the same as he did his three sons, she could read all the texts in the library and was fluent in Latin and able to write her own ideas and notations if she pleased.

She didn't know what she would have done if she couldn't read the endless books in the library which she presumed the twin Emperors had rarely ever visited or looked upon.

Her days were currently being spent in the library, being there when Geta needed her for formal occasions and outings such as this, wandering the gardens, and being by her husband's side for meals. For the pretense of a normal marriage union.

They had been out for a while now, visiting a temple and seeing the people, and that had been all well and good, but (Y/n) was ready to go back. She was ready to be away from the crowds that were starting to push and shove to get closer to them. Wanting to see them, to either admire or despise them. Either shouting praise or words of vile origin.

As usual when they were out in public like this, (Y/n) had taken to curling her hand around Geta's elbow. Nothing elaborate and if he ever shrugged off her touch she would back away immediately, but he didn't. He seemed to understand she was trying to be an attentive wife, trying to give that impression to his subjects that his wife was loyal, she loved and respected him and wanted to be by his side.

Her steps had fallen out of line with his and she was a pace or two behind him with her right arm stretched out so her hand could remain curled lightly in the crook of his elbow.

(Y/n) couldn't help but fall behind when she was looking at all the people crowding round. She could see people from afar pushing to get closer and the odd flower being thrown at their feet. A generous act that she couldn't reciprocate or show gratitude for and collect the flowers because clearly Geta was a man on a mission, and he wasn't stopping for anything.

Each time that someone shoved their way closer and got a step further towards them, (Y/n)'s skin bristled and she was sure that she could feel Geta tensing beside her. He was looking around too, but he was looking towards his right whereas (Y/n) was looking in the other direction towards the thinner sea of people crowding them.

The guards leading their little entourage and the ones following a close distance behind them were brisk and rather closed off as if they were tuning everything out and trying to move forward whilst ignoring the crowds.

They were close to the carriage now that would take them the rest of the way back to the palace.s

Quickening her steps, (Y/n) tried to fall back in step with Geta but she faltered when something seemed to catch her eye on her left.

A shimmer reflecting the bright midday sun, a glistening light as if a star had fallen from the sky and landed right in their laps. The sunlight bounced and refracted and made (Y/n) blink furiously to stop herself from feeling blinded. That dazzling light came closer and attracted all of (Y/n)'s attention, though it felt like she was the only person who could see or focus on it.

And upon seeing what was catching the light, her blood ran cold and dread dwelled in the pit of her stomach.

A blade.

A blade too short to be classed as a sword, but long and angled and not something (Y/n) would call a simple knife. A dagger, perhaps.

Whatever specific weapon it was, she could see the arm raising to the level of their chest. Hand tightly clasped around the handle of the blade, venom in their eyes, teeth ground down and lips pulled back into a snarl. Feet hitting the floor as he set into a lunge, and his target was made impossibly clear.

Geta.

He was going to attack one of the two Emperors; he was going for the Emperor that was more of a threat, the one that couldn't be controlled or subdued.

"Emperor Geta." That voice was dark, gravelly and coursed with venom that made (Y/n)'s entire core tremble.

"No!"

She was moving before she could stop herself, before her mind could really fathom what she was doing, what she was about to do and what the consequences would be.

Geta turned, exasperation written across his face when (Y/n)'s hand was no longer hooked around his elbow and she suddenly flung herself in front of him. He had no idea what she was doing or what she was up to and it made his chest tighten with an unusual sense of anxiety.

Everything happened so quickly, but Geta could see every little detail as if time had stopped just for him to allow him to get a grasp on the situation.

He saw (Y/n) stand in front of him, he felt her hand shoving at his chest roughly pushing him backwards to get him out of the way. And then he realised what she was obscuring from his path; he saw a blade cross her skin.

He watched the blade swipe across her front so quickly that he actually wanted to believe that the blade hadn't touched her skin at all but had simply caught the ruffled layers of her flowing dress.

That clearly wasn't the case when Geta watched a sparkle of red begin to blossom like petals of a flower bud opening up right before his eyes. It stained the purity of her white gown and churned Geta's stomach.

As soon as (Y/n)'s body started to crumple forwards, as soon as she looked like she were about to drop to the floor, Geta bound his right arm around her abdomen and yanked her back. He didn't know where his own force had suddenly come from but it didn't seem to matter. He pulled with enough force that (Y/n)'s feet almost left the floor and her lower back was moulded up against Geta's abdomen as he curved his chest around her as if becoming a shield for her.

Words tumbled past his lips in a flurry. Calling for the guards, for help, for someone to get that man back and keep him away from the Empress.

What did he employ these men for if they couldn't even protect him or his wife?

None of them had been quick off the mark. Why had it been (Y/n) who had seen what this man was up to? Why was she the only one who had moved, who had done something and tried to protect Geta when that was not her job, not her role or her concern?

"Oh Gods!" He spat, venom dripping from his voice as he twisted to the right and pulled (Y/n) along with him so she was out of the way. "Get him secured!"

He could feel (Y/n) trembling in his arms as the guards finally seemed to get the derranged man pinned on his chest and stomach on the floor. Dirt stuck to the corners of his mouth where his face was scraped down into the floor and the dagger lay disposed at his side, blood sticking it to the sand coating the floor while his arms were detained behind his back.

The rest of the guards crowded in around the couple, clearly realising that they had to do something- they had to do their jobs- and make sure nothing else happened to them.

Both arms stayed glued around (Y/n)'s waist and Geta was sure he could feel her trembling hands gripping his forearm like she was trying to keep herself attached to him or hold herself up.

They moved in tandem, conjoined and clinging together as Geta guided and practically dragged her to the right, aiming for the carriage that would seclude them away from the rest of the world, away from the rabble and give them some privacy and safety.

"Up, up."

Despite the urgency in Geta's voice, (Y/n) could hear something else lying underneath, something softer, something levelling on concern as his hands shifted to her hips and he helped to get her up into the carriage.

"I want a healer at the palace when we get there. Now do what you're supposed to and make sure nothing else happens to my wife or me." There was a maddening look in Geta's eyes and fury laced through his words that spat at the guards like they were nothing more than the grit on his shoes.

They weren't here for appearances or to look appealing to the people of Rome, they weren't here for fun or for something to do. They were supposed to guard the Emperor and anyone close to him. These men were supposed to use their weapons if necessary to keep the people at bay, to stop anyone from harming them.

And they had become slack and allowed the Empress to come to harm and do their jobs for them. That was not acceptable.

As soon as Geta clambered up into the carriage, he slammed the door shut behind him and let his body slump down into the seat opposite (Y/n). The carriage was small enough that even sitting opposite one another, their knees were touching. And if Geta leaned a little closer, his breath would fan across (Y/n)'s face.

He took ragged breaths, pupils blown wide and lips dry and parted as he sat forward and reached out for (Y/n).

At first his hands ghosted across her dress, pushing the torn pieces of material to one side until the strap that had been hanging on her left shoulder suddenly slid down and hung over her chest instead. With the material now loose and at his will, Geta parted it so he could see the wound hiding beneath.

Not a deep thrust from the blade, more of a slice across the skin than a deep puncture wound, which was relieving. But the blood was still soaking into the dress just beneath her collar bone and no doubt it would be causing her pain.

Shudders crawled beneath (Y/n)'s skin when she felt Geta's hands suddenly reach forward and cup her face. His touch was so intent, so fierce and desperate yet he still managed to hold her with some restraint, with some knowledge that she was tender and he didn't want to hurt her.

His thumbs were pressing into her cheekbones and his fingers were touching the tips of her jaw near her ears. He tilted her head until she was looking at him, no ability to look anywhere else but into those dark eyes that were desperate for answers.

He leant in close until their temples were almost touching and (Y/n) could feel the end of his nose so close to brushing hers. Their faces had never been this close before; their lips never this intimate or about to touch.

"Why?! Why would you do that?"

Her blank eyes stared back at him like she didn't understand the question, but it only aggravated him further until he felt like shaking her head in his hands to make her listen and understand what he'd said.

"You could have gotten killed. You- Gods, you do not stand in front of me and take a blade for me. Do you understand?"

Under no circumstances did Geta ever want her to do that for him again. He didn't deserve that. He wasn't the kind of person who should be saved by people like (Y/n). She was pure, she was kind and loving and someone he had mistreated badly. He didn't deserve her kidness or a sacrifice like she had just tried to give for him.

Taking a leap of faith, (Y/n) reached a shaking hand up and curled her fingers around his wrist, holding his touch against her face. Wanting to make sure his touch stayed right there, cupping her face in his hands that she didn't want to part from her skin.

This was the closest they had ever been, and this touch was extremely comforting to (Y/n) right now. She didn't think Geta was the kind of person who could give such confidence and comforting embraces, but now he was holding her, she never wanted this touch to leave. It made the shaking in her system die down and the rapid hammering of her heart simmer down just a little.

"The… the people, Rome need their Emperor, not me."

What kind of person would (Y/n) be if she just stood there and let someone hurt her husband? Hurt the Emperor of Rome? (Y/n) could never rule in his stead, she couldn't make decisions or challenges or lead Rome to glory, that would never be allowed. The people needed their Emperor and if something happened to him, if someone hurt him there could be an uprising and outrage throughout the city.

All (Y/n) had done since she married Geta was try to understand him, try her best to go along with whatever rules he set and try her best to be a good wife, a better wife. That included looking after him and trying to save him from situations like that. Even if it did put herself in harms way.

Geta couldn't understand that logic.

He found himself taking a deep breath as he shook his head as if disappointed in her, but he wasn't. He was simply baffled by her.

"I don't deserve a sacrifice like that from you- especially not from you."

He's been cruel.

It was only now that this was all dawning on him. (Y/n) hadn't asked for this marriage either, she hadn't chosen this the same as he had no choice, but she had been understanding.

Geta had told (Y/n) to leave the royal chambers, he didn't want her there with him during the night, it was his space, his privacy that he wanted to protect and keep strangers out of. He hadn't made other accomodations for her and he didn't know where she ventured off to every night instead of coming to their room and demanding that she stay because it was rightfully her private space too. She hadn't argued with him when she had every right to, and he never gave her any gratitude for that.

He told her he didn't want to be around her, and she didn't push him. Each time he called to her to join him on events and days like this, (Y/n) was right there at his side where he wanted her to be. And she never questioned him.

She didn't get upset, she didn't argue or make logical points with him. She didn't talk badly about him or spread gossip through the servants- which Geta knew now that she had every right to do so if she wished. (Y/n) had kept up the pretenses that everything was the way it should be.

And now she has just stood in front of him because she thought her sacrifice was justified, that the people need him more than they would need her.

"But you," he brushed his thumb delicately across her lower lip and suddenly found himself resting his temple gently and longingly against hers. "You deserve gratitude; a thousand apologies from me. You're my wife, and I haven't treated you as such. That changes now."

His lips touched hers then. Gentle enough that if (Y/n) had closed her eyes, she would surely have mistaken the touch for the gliding of a feather across her lips.

Just as soon as the touch was there, it was gone and replaced with the feeling of Geta's hand leaving her face and curving around to cradle the back of her head. His fingers weaved into the intricate styling of her hair, letting her temple rest against his shoulder while his other arm curved around her waist.

He almost pulled her off her seat and onto his lap with how close he held her to his chest, as if he thought that if he let her go then she might vanish or become seriously harmed again.

(Y/n) found herself winding her arms around his back, fingers scrunching into the soft silky fabric of his robes and her nose inhaled his scent that did wonders in calming her down.

She could just about hear Geta muttering how sorry he was into her hair, and she held him back tighter, glad to be in his arms and feel like a properly married couple for a change.

This was a lasting marriage, this was something that couldn't be undone or changed and (Y/n) wanted to make the most of it. She wanted to make Geta happy and be happy and content by his side. She wanted to have a happy life and a good marriage, because it was the only one she was likely to have.