HAHAHAHAH DRÉ^^ k sorry continue

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"An angry man is again angry with himself when he returns to reason."

-

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—•—

One week later, the relationship between the emperor and the gladiator was riddled with tension.

Dream tried his best to do his job correctly: obeying the commands of his boss, tailing and protecting the emperor with as much dedication as he could muster.

George was just pissed off.

He wasn't sure if he was mad at himself, or his bodyguard, but either way, he was annoyed. He also didn't know why he was annoyed: his brain was filled with thoughts that confused him and that made him irritable.

Even Karl noticed the emperors vexatious attitude, and sitting with him in his quarters, he was finally fed up.

"Why are you like this?" Karl asked as George groaned, lying face down on his bed.

"I'm annoyed~" George's words were muffled.

Karl walked away from George's closet, sandal in hand, and he approached the bed. He then threw the shoe at George, who shouted in shock, springing to his feet.

He explained: "What the hell?!"

He shoved Karl, who laughed as he stumbled, managing to catch himself before he hit the ground. However, the emperors sudden loud and unexpected outburst was noticed.

Dream kicked open the door, skidding across the room with his sword in hand, driving the tip of the blade through the air to press threateningly against Karl's throat.

George gasped. "Wait—!"

"GEORGE!" Karl screamed.

Dream suddenly took notice that the man he had his sword on was Karl, and that the frightened man was no threat. Tentatively, Dream withdrew his sword and stepped back, muttering an apology.

Karl smoothed down the front of his toga, inhaling a shaky breath. "Jeez..."

George watched in poised amusement as Dream apologised profusely to Karl, who chuckled and dismissed the gladiator flippantly.

As the room quieted, George cleared his throat. Dream looked to him expectantly, head lowered and mask shining in the early morning sun that was streaming through the window.

"Karl and I would like to go into the market," George told Dream. "So you'll need to come with us."

Dream nodded, before turning and leaving the room before anyone else could utter a word. Dumbfounded, George looked at Karl with a look of unfiltered skepticism, whereas Karl just peered at the door.

George remarked: "That was—"

"—he is so hot."

"—weird..." George narrowed his eyes at Karl.

Karl laughed, facing George, smile dissolving from his face. "What?"

"You think he's hot?" George scoffed. "Him?"

Karl blinked. "...yeah?"

"Seriously?"

"...yes."

"You're ridiculous." George muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking the sandals that Karl had thrown at him and slipping them on.

Karl's laugh was condescending as he approached George. He pat the emperor mockingly on the shoulder, peering down at his friend with a coy smile.

"George, George, George..." Karl prolonged. "My sweet, naïve child."

George scoffed again.

"You're in denial, I understand. But you're not blind," he helped George to his feet. "He's literally a Greek god. Adonis, if you will."

"Literally shut up," George spat, crossing the room, hand poised on the door handle. "I don't like the gladiator, okay? He is here to protect me, that's it; meaning I don't care about him, and I never will."

Karl went to say say something, but George wasn't done, hissing: "He is nothing to me."

—•—

Dream considers himself to be a rather tough person. He can take hits in the arena like a wild dog, and he's not afraid of attaining cuts and bruises in order to win a fight.

Physical pain washes off of Dream easily, like water off of a ducks back. The heavy blows of an axe or the vicious swipe of a whip can easily heal, and he prides himself in easily recovering.

However, words hurt.

So there Dream stood, fist raised, ready to knock on the emperors door, when: "...I don't care about him, and I never will. He is nothing to me."

Immediately, Dream retracted his hand, backing away from the door before scampering down the hallway like a kicked puppy. He flew into his own quarters, shutting the door quickly behind him.

He pressed his back up against the wood of the door, wincing slightly as the surface pricked at the congealed blood that gathered on his semi-healed wounds beneath his tunic.

He wasn't quite sure why the emperors words struck so deep. It's not like he actually cared. But, these words stung and, unlike a cut or bruise from combat, these types of emotional wounds Dream found hard to heal.

Sighing, he stood away from the door. He had a job to do.

Gripping the handle of his sword with a veined hand, he opened the door and left his room, almost running into Karl and George.

"Oh, there you are!" Karl exclaimed excitedly. "We're ready to go."

"Are you sure you want to go today?" Dream asked, and George's head cocked to the side.

"Why wouldn't we want to go today?"

Dream shrugged, gesturing to the sky behind the large, open window behind the two noblemen. "It looks like it's going to rain."

Although that was not the reason that Dream wished not to leave, it was partially the truth. The sky was an angry, heavy block of grey; the churning face of a storm preparing to open over the marble-dipped city of Rome. The air seemed to crackle with electric humidity, and the warm breeze soaked the villa in the smell of rain.

"Oh, I hadn't noticed," George mumbled. "Well, I do suppose we should stay home."

Karl groaned. "I was so looking forward to going out today."

George ignored his friend, gazing out the window. His facial features were shadowed by the clouds which obscured the sun, and he squinted against the harshness.

"We'll go another day, Karl," George finally spoke. "Tomorrow, maybe."

Karl nodded, accepting this answer, before announcing that he would head home before the heavens opened.

"I'll see you tomorrow, emperor." Karl waved happily at George as the trio walked down the long corridor and stopped at the front door.

Karl slipped through the door, subsequently entering a litter that was waiting for him, and was soon a distant shape at the edge of the property line.

George watched him go with a set jaw and hardened eyes. After a moment, he turned to the gladiator, whom he already found staring down at him.

"What?" George asked and Dream bristled at his harsh tone.

The masked gladiator said nothing, just continued to look down at the emperor. George got tired of this, turning his back on the gladiator and stomping down the hall.

Dream followed only a few paces behind him as the pair entered the parlour, where several other servants tended to plants and polished statues.

"Leave us." George announced into the room, causing every single servant to scamper away, exiting the room hurriedly, and without a sound.

George approached the end of the parlour, sinking down onto the plush surface of a lectus which sat before a grand window. The window, glassless, provided an impeccable view of the front grounds of the villa.

The gardens were kept in immaculate condition and, even with the eminent presence of rain, they still thrummed with life.

George sighed, listening as footsteps drew nearer, not even having to turn around to know who it was.

"I'm not fit to be emperor," George said. "I've barely got my life together."

He didn't get a reply, but he continued to speak aloud.

"Emperors are meant to be ruthless, strong-willed. They're not meant to show mercy and submission," George gazed out of the window. "So why is it that I'm letting my thoughts parade around my head like fucking peacocks?"

It seemed as though he was talking to himself, as he received no answer. He didn't even bother looking back to make sure that his intended audience was there.

He knew he was there.

"A good Roman emperor is meant to be decisive and powerful, yet here I sit, moping over absolutely nothing~"

Emperor George pinched the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut. "I'm exactly what my father said I was going to be. A failure."

George kept his eyes shut and head down, resting a closed fist on his cheek, propped up with his elbow against his knee. After a moment, his audience shifted behind him and the emperor was suddenly aware of a flush of bodily warmth.

His bodyguard had moved closer to him, his toga-clad back now pressed closely against Dream's abdomen. A strong hand came to rest on George's shoulder and he craned his neck to look up.

Dream looked down at the emperor through the gaps in his mask. George met his eyes, and only then he realised what a brilliant green they were.

"You are not a failure." Dream said simply.

George swallowed, leaning slightly back to press himself closer to the bodyguard. However, after he said those few words, Dream stepped back, metaphorical walls rebuilding.

George dropped his head back to look out of the window, getting to his feet silently. Then, wordlessly, he walked out of the parlour, down the long hall, and back into his room, leaving Dream to stand guard outside of his door.

"Don't bother me unless I tell you too." George said plainly.

Once inside the privacy of his room, George reached around to place a hand on his back. He hadn't been that close to anyone like that in a long time, and he remembered the reassuring heat fondly.

And, just as the sky above opened, and a rush of rain draped the city of Rome in a blanket of mist, something went off in George's head.

He crossed his room, throwing open his closet to snatch a shawl from one of the shelves. Wrapping it around his head and face, he walked around his bed to grab his umbraculum, before throwing open his balcony doors.

He was immediately greeted by the chill of the rain, but no matter. George went over to the edge of the balcony, from where the assailant had jumped from, and peered down.

His room was on the first and only floor, but because his villa was built on top of a hill, the balcony hung over a dip in the hill, meaning the ground was not too far away.

With this information in mind, George clambered over the railing and dropped a metre or so, landing on the wet grass with a thump. He then regained his composure, opening his umbraculum to shield himself from the rain, and crossed the grounds of his villa.

He slipped through the trees and shrubbery, avoiding the main golden gate where he knew guards would be posted. Instead, like the countless times in his childhood, George walked beside the stone wall to the very corner of the property.

Still holding his umbraculum, the emperor pushed a thicket of brambles away from the stone wall, revealing a small hole to the other side. Pushing himself through, George brushed himself off on the other side and began his descent down the slick cobbled road, leading towards the city.

He needed to escape his imperial role.

Even if it was just for an hour.

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Hey homies, this is an authors note!

• Lectus - a fancy couch basically

• Umbraculum- a fancy umbrella lol

The emperor going into the heart of Rome, alone... what could possibly go wrong?

This chapters question/statement: if you've read Allies, who was your favourite character and why?

- If you haven't read Allies (which you totally should, it's my first book), why have you chosen to read this book?

On an unrelated note: I just finished watching squid game and omfg it was 10/10

Until next time,

Blue :)