All Chapters of LOVE AND HONOR: The Mad Emperor (BL): Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The path behind the villa urbana was narrow and winding, barely more than a trail carved between hedges and crumbling garden walls.It felt forgotten. Unkempt.A stark contrast to the boastful entrance.The air was warm—heavy with the scent of summer.No moon. No stars.At least not yet.Only torches lit along the edges of the estate, their flames flickering in the summer breeze.The world felt distant. Smaller somehow.As if all that mattered was this path.These two figures.Lepidus walked beside Caligula, not too close.Just near enough that if the boy stumbled, Lepidus could catch him.Caligula said nothing as his feet led Lepidus to the place he'd found after the chaos at the Circus Maximus—a place he now sought out for solace.He already memorized the path at heart.His footsteps were slow, dragging a little, the hem of his toga dusted from the gravel.He looked tired. Hollowed out.But not afraid. Not cold.Not anymore.The orange-golden light of the torches behind them dimmed

The praetorian guards were gone. The guests too—long gone.Only the ghosts of perfume and wine lingered in the air, drifting through the night like whispers.Faint laughter, fading music—echoes of the party that had turned to horror because of his uncle Drusus the Younger's poisoning.It's so quiet.Drusus Caesar moved through the corridor, barefoot now, careful not to make a sound.In his hands, his sandals.He had already forgotten the poison he found in his mother’s cubiculum—and how he’d taken it and hidden it behind the tapestry.Now, he just regretted not moving faster.His curiosity about everything was getting in the way now.Slowing him down.If he’d slipped out of the cubiculum just a little earlier, maybe he would’ve caught a glimpse of what happened.But no—he’d tried to play the clever delator—like a boy-legatus chasing the shadow who’d planted poison in his mother’s room.As if it were some grand conspiracy.'Did his uncle really die? Who poisoned him? What happened afte

Agrippina rose before the sun.As if she hadn't cried.As if she hadn't hurled a vase at the wall last night—because of Antonia's words.Her pride had been scratched.All night she lay motionless, waiting for sleep that never arrived.But no one could tell. No trace remained.A bath.A female slave braided her hair in silence.The scent of something floral folded into her dress.Rituals. Armor.Outside, Rome stirred with a hangover.But not her.She stood before the mirror—her speculum—and stared herself down without blinking.The reflection was thinner than she remembered.Older. Sharper.Gone was the old Agrippina.Something had burned away in her this past year.Or maybe it had only just become visible.Drusus the Younger was dead.And Tiberius had not come.Her mouth twitched.'You hide in your palatium while your son dies choking on roses. Just as you hid when you had my husband murdered.'She pressed a pearl pin into her black stola, twisting it with the precision of a blade.Th

Sometime Around October 28 AD, Germania Inferior, Marshland East of the Rhine"Hmmmmm..."A low thrum stirred the stillness before dawn.It grew.A deep, resonant drone—heavy with numbers, thick with intent.A barritus.The battle-cry of Germania.Then came the tendrils of grey, snaking upward through the thinning branches of the forest—Smoke.Grey. Acrid. Hungry.The Germania tribe had returned.And at their forefront—Arminius.This was no petty rebellion.He did not rally for kingship.It was a reckoning.He rallied for vengeance—raw and untamed, pulsed in the air.A bitter memory surfaced in Arminius's mind, sharp as a shattered glass.Sejanus.The snake.Yes, it had been Arminius who first approached him—believing that Sejanus’ ambition might be bargained with.He had offered something of value, hoping to secure his family’s safety.And in return, once part of the promise was fulfilled, Sejanus would reveal their location.But in the end, the nature of the serpent does not change

The next day...Macro returned to his usual routine—standing guard outside the prince's cubiculum, stone-faced as ever.But something had changed in the air.The door opened.Macro, who wasn't looking directly at Caligula, was waiting for the soft footfall on the marbled floor.Seconds passed.A full minute went by.No sound.No movement.A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.He can swear he even heard it when it hit the marble.Slowly, Macro moved his eyes and peeked from the corner of his vision.Caligula was just standing there, his back resting against the frame of the door.His hands folded on his chest. Crumpling his purple tunic.His other leg was crossed over the other.His posture seemed relaxed, but it felt like a bowstring stretched too tight.One move and it felt like the prince would snap and attack him.Alert. Like a viper.The pretty prince didn't exit his room like he used to.He didn't move at all.He stood motionless, like a statue.Staring at Macro.'Is he measurin