Caracalla slammed his fist on the table, making a carefully-stacked display of cooked fish collapse to either side, just as the double doors to the triclinium opened and the emperor and empress appeared there, flanked by Praetorians.
Geta rose from his couch and went to his father’s aid, taking Castor’s place at his father’s left arm and helping him down the single step and around the table to the head couch.
“I’m glad to see you well, Father,” Caracalla said from his couch.
Septimius Severus glanced at his son, but said nothing, reaching instead for the wine cup before him.
“I am not well,” Severus replied, after taking a sip.
There was silence then, but for the splash of wine as one of the slaves went around the table to fill everyone’s golden cups.
“You seem better than you were i
