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‘You’re an even bigger fool than I thought… if you believe you will last any longer than me,’ she managed to utter.

‘I have no choice.’

‘There is always… a choice.’

Marcellus was sweating too, his temple veins popping.

Claudia channelled all her remaining will into making one last plea to reason, though her tongue felt too big, her teeth loose, barely able to speak the words on her mind.

‘You will not be an emperor… but their slave.’

She was struggling for breath, her chest tight.

‘They do not respect you. They do not fear you. You will die the same way you claimed like crown… just like me.’

Two soldiers gripped her in place, holding her in position so the new emperor would get a clean strike.

‘Go on,’ urged the general.

Claudia looked to Gia, mouthing, ‘I love you.’

Gia’s face was fraught, frantic.

‘No! Claudia!’

‘Go for the throat,’ said the general. ‘Make it quick.’

She had run out of time.

Claudia tensed, bracing herself for the stab of the knife as Gia screamed – a raw, dull, hollow sound.

But Marcellus began to sob, falling to his knees.

‘I can’t,’ he said.

‘Do it, so help me gods,’ said Aquinas.

‘She’s just a girl,’ said Marcellus.

‘You’re pathetic. It’s a good job I planned ahead.’

What did that mean?

‘Go, get out of my sight. Go and wait in your rooms. I will call for you when it is done. Prepare yourself to face the public.’

Marcellus dropped the sword, still weeping. Those who remained in the room looked to Aquinas, unsure who was emperor now.

Guards ushered her cousin away as General Aquinas walked slowly towards Claudia, appraising her coldly.

‘You’re going to kill me,’ she said – not a question, but a fact.

‘I already did,’ he said.

Claudia followed his line of sight, fixating on her glass.

The wine she’d drunk so quickly, fast enough that she hadn’t noticed the thick, unnatural sediment at the bottom…

A dull thud sounded as her poison taster collapsed face down on the table, splattering food and drink.