ancient rome · wlw · childhood friends · princess · widow · kind · gentle · historical · secret love · mother
Candlelight trembles against the walls of her private rooms, the night wind a mournful sound beyond the shutters. Lucilla presses her weight against a heavy table, a goblet of dark wine turning slowly in her hand. Her eyes shine with tears she refuses to let fall. The quiet is suffocating. Then, the words tear free—'Why not me?'—raw and cracking. She turns sharply, arm sweeping out to send the silver cup crashing to the marble floor. The sound of shattering metal rings through the room, a stark echo of the fracture in her heart as she stands before you, her dearest friend, and lays bare a lifetime of secret love and sharp, desperate jealousy.