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"If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need."

-

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—•—

"That was such a stupid idea."

"It worked, didn't it?"

"Well, yes, but I think it put him on edge."

"That was the point!" Karl exclaimed, running a hand down his face. "So? What did he do?"

George groaned, tossing his head back. He and Karl were sitting at a small table in the royal garden, surrounded by colourful flowers, drowning in the fragrant smell of flora and fauna. Karl sipped heartily on a cup of tea as George allowed his eyes to flicker towards the doorway back into the villa, where Nightmare stood, attention trained obediently on the garden.

George groaned again, lowering his voice. "He saved my life... well, he thought he was saving my life."

"I told you it was a good idea," Karl said. "Now you know for sure that he is going to be a good bodyguard."

George fidgeted with a pleat in his toga. "I just think that we didn't need to hire someone to 'assassinate' me for him to react."

Karl cast a sidelong look in the gladiators direction, before turning his attention back to his good friend. "My plan worked, okay? So don't worry about it. It's clear that Nightmare will be an excellent bodyguard."

George rolled his eyes, letting them rest back on the gladiator occupying the doorway a few dozen metres away.

Nightmare stood in the back doorway of the villa. He leaned idly against the doorframe, shoulder pressed into the marble arch as his masked face moved ever so slightly in each direction. George could only imagine the gladiators eyes pivoting from one end of the garden to another, surveying for any possible threats.

With a sword now at his side, Nightmare rested a hand on the hilt, fingers gripping the handle. The sword hung from the leather belt and skirt that strapped itself to the gladiators waist, overtop of a white tunic that, to the emperors satisfaction, clung to the mans sculpted body.

George was drawn from his state of daydreaming by Karl, who was dabbing a napkin against the emperors chin.

"What are you doing?" George slapped Karl's hand away.

Karl laughed. "Just wiping away the drool."

"Oh, shut up." George spat sourly, slumping back into his chair, eyes trained directly onto the half eaten food on the plate before him.

After a moment of silence, Karl cleared his throat, threading his fingers together and resting his elbows on the table, leaning forward to speak in a hushed tone.

"Don't go getting yourself into another scandal, domine."

George scoffed. "Another scandal? What are you talking about—?"

"—I see the way you're looking at that gladiator," Karl interrupted. "It's not just attraction."

"Oh, of course it is," George said cynically. "I've just met that man and here you are insinuating that I, the crowned emperor of Rome, have deeper feelings for a gladiator. Do you know how ridiculous you sound?"

Karl pursed his lips, leaning back in his chair to fold his arms over his chest. His gold bracelets glinted in the languid rays of the midday sun, and George felt the refracted light catch in his lower lashes.

"I'm not stupid, George," Karl whispered. "The way you just looked at that man was a mix between you wanting him to, eh hem, frick you, and you wanting him to adore you."

George's mouth dropped open in shock. Karl, with an unwavering gaze, reached down to clasp his teacup, bringing it to his lips and taking a long, dramatic slurp. He maintained eye contact with the emperor over the rim of the cup as he drank.

"Am I wrong?" He asked, setting the teacup down.

George bit his cheek, jaw ticking, before finally having the courage to mumble out: "...no. No, you are not wrong."

Karl smirked. "That's what I thought. So, back to what I was saying before; I don't want you to get caught up in another scandal, so don't go falling in love with your bodyguard."

George's gaze wandered around his garden, taking in all the different kinds of flowers that bloomed within the four fenced walls. If he wasn't colourblind, he might have been able to admire the beauty of his outdoor space a whole lot more.

"Don't get me wrong, you can mess around with him as much as you want," Karl drummed his fingers on the table. "But as soon as you feel yourself begin to grow feelings, sever the cord."

George visibly bristled at his friends harsh words. "I'm not going to mess around with him, Karl, he's a person!"

Karl pressed a finger to his lips, calming the emperor as he spoke again. "Fine, fine. What I'm trying to say is that if the emperor of Rome ends up falling in love with a gladiator, the lowest person in Roman hierarchal society, your reputation will be ruined. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes, I understand," George muttered, eyes moving over to the man in the doorway. "I won't get myself into a scandal."

"Good." Karl watched a bumblebee float past his face, buzzing lazily in the warm sun.

Another spurt of silence filled with the buzz of bees and the tweeting of birds breezed past both men, before Karl cleared his throat.

"I'm only trying to look out for you."

George reached across the table, taking Karl's hand in his own, patting it fondly. "I know."

"I don't wish to cause you harm. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I know."

"And, logically, an emperor can't marry a gladiator. You'll be disgraced."

"I know."

"Well, I suppose you could marry him if you pardoned him from his ludus, offered him a place in Roman society and made him your consort."

George hesitated. "Karl, you're not supposed to be telling me this, so shut up."

Karl flushed awkwardly as the emperor got to his feet, stretching with a low whine. This immediately drew Nightmare's attention, who bounded down the villa steps and skidded to a halt beside George.

"Are you ready to head back inside, domine?" The gladiator asked.

George nodded. "Yes. I think it's time for me to retire indoors. Will you accompany me?"

Nightmare nodded, leading the emperor away. George sent Karl a cheeky smile, and Karl sent George a pointed look, almost as if saying 'Don't do anything stupid.'

—•—

"Tell me about yourself, Nightmare," George probed, tossing a grape into his mouth. "Why are you a gladiator?"

It was later that day, and Emperor George sat on the balcony of his room, basking in the lowering sun. Dream stood in the doorway, back pressed to the doorframe, enabling him to keep his focus on the emperor, but the corner of his eye on the darkening bed chamber.

"Why am I a gladiator?" Dream mumbled. "Well, I didn't really have much of a choice."

"Is it true that most gladiators are either kidnapped or bought?"

"Yes," Dream said. "I..."

He hesitated, green eyes wandering down to the emperor, who gazed over the balcony at the setting sun and the picturesque landscape of Rome. As if feeling eyes on him, the emperor turned his head, locking eyes with the gladiator.

"You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable." George reassured the muscled man standing in his balcony doorway.

Dream sighed. "I was kidnapped after your people ransacked my village and murdered innocent men, women and children."

George's eyes flashed. "My people?"

"Romans." Dream spat, the mood on the balcony shifting.

The emperor got to his feet. "You were taken when you were young. That means I was not responsible for the people of Rome when I was a young boy!"

Dream scoffed behind his mask. "I didn't say you were. But, they are your people. You are Roman, and they were Roman."

George scowled, stepping closer to the gladiator. "Do not blame me for something—!"

"—I'm not blaming you," Dream attempted to diffuse the situation. "You asked me if we got kidnapped or bought, and I told you the truth. Don't punish me for speaking the truth."

George bit his tongue, silently seething behind a stoic expression. He opened his mouth to say something, but when no words tumbled from his tongue, he closed his mouth as quickly as he had opened it.

Dream sighed, looking down at the emperor, who looked up at him with a mixture of emotions brewing behind his dark eyes.

"I apologise, domine, if I overstepped. I didn't mean to offend you." Dream apologised and George responded with a tight-lipped smile.

"Apology accepted," he said. "And I'm sorry if I probed to invasively into your past."

"Apology also accepted," Dream chuckled as he stepped back slightly, very much aware of the close proximity between them.

George blinked, confused, before watching disappointedly as Dream edged towards the door, mask hiding his true emotions.

"I think it's best for me to allow you to rest for the evening," Dream pushed open the door. "I'll be posted outside your door if you need anything."

Emperor George closed up his balcony. "Oh, right, of course. Thank you. I'll call for you if I need anything."

Dream saw this as a satisfactory answer as he bowed diligently, before slipping out the door without so much as a sound. George found himself gazing almost longingly at the door, but forced himself away. Instead, he flopped face first onto his bed, burying his face into the cool covers.

"I'm an idiot." He mumbled to himself, words muffled by the blankets.

He wasn't sure what happened out there on the balcony. One minute, he thought the gladiator was opening up to him, beginning to unravel in ways that George imagined that the man had never unravelled before. The next moment, however, the pair were almost fighting, hissing at each other like feral cats.

He wished that he had tried harder to allow Nightmare to open up. Maybe he could have even asked for the masked mans real name. But, for now, George lay on top of his bed covers, mind whirring with thoughts and possibilities.

He soon felt himself begin to drift off to sleep, when he heard the door handle jiggle, and a door push open.

The emperor raised his head, expecting to see his bodyguard perched politely in the doorway. Instead, he noticed that the door was closed. He got to his feet, spinning around to find that the balcony door was open.

"What—?" George was cut off by a man standing tall in the door of his balcony.

"AH—!" The emperor went to scream, but the man sprinted forward, shoving a hand over the emperors mouth, and pressing a jagged, rusty dagger to the emperors stomach.

The unknown man grinned, evil. "Now, now, your highness, please don't make a sound. I wouldn't want to have to ruin your pretty white floors now, would I?"

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Hey homies, this is an authors note!

This chapters a bit shorter, cause I'm honestly just trying to get these two to establish a proper "relationship" before anything... interesting can happen 😇

I hope you're having a good day/night :)

This chapters question/statement: favourite school subject?

Until next time,

Blue :)