The nights were the hardest. Caligula suffered from chronic insomnia and expected his staff to share it. They would wander the labyrinthine corridors of the Palatine Hill, the Emperor talking to the moon as if she were a fickle lover. One moment, he was a philosopher, quoting Homer with tears in his eyes; the next, he was a tyrant, ordering a senator’s execution because the man’s sandals creaked too loudly.
Lucius survived by becoming a shadow. He learned to anticipate the shifts in the Emperor's "divine" weather. When Caligula declared himself a god and demanded to be addressed as Jupiter, Lucius didn't flinch. When Caligula ordered a bridge of ships to be built across the Bay of Baiae just so he could ride across it in the armor of Alexander the Great, Lucius simply calculated the tonnage of grain ships required. [S4E1] Working for Caligula
Caligula laughed—a high, shrill sound that echoed off the marble walls. "No. It’s because you are the only one who doesn't look like you’re waiting for me to die." The nights were the hardest
Lucius’s first day began in the throne room. Caligula wasn't sitting; he was pacing, draped in a silk robe that cost more than Lucius’s entire village. Beside the throne stood a horse——decked out in a collar of sparkling emeralds. One moment, he was a philosopher, quoting Homer
Lucius kept his voice steady. "Because I record the glory of the son of Germanicus, Caesar."
"Remember," his predecessor had whispered while packing his bags with trembling hands, "never look him in the eye, but never look away. Never laugh unless he laughs, and for the love of the gods, if he asks you to dinner, bring your own taster."