"See you tomorrow, then!"
"Good work today!"
Spurius called out, waving goodbye to his coworkers.
Spurius was a former legionary.
One of the countless soldiers who had followed Pompey to eradicate the pirates of the Mediterranean.
Following the orders of the great general Pompey Magnus, he fought pirates at sea, then burned their strongholds on land.
In just a few months, they were able to drive the pirates out of the Mediterranean and restore peace.
Ships loaded with grain could safely arrive at the port of Ostia once again, and Roman citizens could buy bread again without fear.
But there was no time to rest for Spurius and the other legionaries.
Following Pompey, they continued their advance into the East, conquering numerous kingdoms and elevating the glory of Rome.
Though they returned to Rome and even participated in a triumph, they did not receive the land they were promised.
Even the back pay they were owed never came.
The veterans left in Rome drifted around looking for jobs or fought for Pompey in the Forum, holding onto a sliver of hope.
But that was only up until recently.
"I'm home."
"Welcome home, honey."
The insula felt warm and cozy.
A pot was boiling on the brazier, and the sound of a baby's giggles echoed through the room.
Spurius approached his wife, who was busy preparing food, and hugged her from behind.
"Smells good."
"I bought some meat today. Maybe because Saturnalia's coming up, the butcher wanted a ridiculous price."
"Still, during the festival, we can get free meals if we go to the Forum. Think of it as prepaying our meals for the week."
Spurius set the rolls of papyrus on the table.
His entry into the technical school had been purely coincidental.
A comrade he was close with during his legionary days had recommended him as a talent for the technical school.
Spurius's only experience was repairing and modifying ships, but he was able to enter through a special recruitment for legionaries.
A stable job that provided a monthly living stipend and even additional pay depending on construction work.
It was better than anything he'd ever dared to dream of.
"Hello, my little kitty."
Spurius approached the baby lying in the cradle.
Seeing him, she smiled and reached out a tiny finger.
Holding the baby in his arms, Spurius took out the item he had brought from his bag.
"I bought this on my way home."
"Is it Palmolive?"
"Yeah, and it's Caesar Palmolive, not Crassus."
"You mean..."
"Our names are registered on the list too. Who knows? The Goddess Fortuna might smile on us."
"That's all anyone talks about these days. Some people say they'll buy a bathhouse if they win the lottery, and others say they'll buy several insulae and live comfortably off the rent for the rest of their lives."
"Those are all good. But I'm happy enough with just this right now."
Spurius said, gently stroking the baby's cheek.
Amidst the appetizing aroma of food, the Caesar crest on the Palmolive sparkled in the candlelight.
As always, the insulae in the Subura district were bustling with the sound of people talking and enjoying their meals.
***
"Father, why did you grant Caesar's request?"
"Hmm?"
At his daughter's question, Pompey opened his eyes.
Lying in the atrium, he was in the middle of getting a haircut.
He lay in the atrium as a slave trimmed his hair.
"What do you mean, why did I grant his request?"
"The young Caesar argued that the Senate should monopolize the lottery business. And the Senate plans to use the funds raised that way to support the veterans."
"You're right."
"Then the veterans' loyalty toward you will decrease, since their livelihood is no longer on the line."
"Sharp as always, Pompeia."
As Pompey burst into a hearty laugh, the slave hurriedly moved the scissors aside.
"As expected of my daughter."
"You haven't answered my question."
"Right, you are correct. If the veterans get jobs, the land bill I am pushing for will lose its momentum.
And if the Senate supports them financially, there will be those who no longer follow me."
"Then why..."
"Why did I leave the young Caesar to do as he pleased, knowing that?"
Pompey, still lying down, looked up at the open sky.
When had he started going to the battlefield?
Since he was around the age of Lucius Caesar, he had gone to war alongside his father.
He fought against the cities rebelling against Rome during the Social War, then fought Marius under Sulla, defeated the rebels in Hispania, and even held a triumph.
He wielded imperium without holding any magisterial office—and rose to consul eight years earlier than tradition allowed.
"Pompeia, do you know why the old cowards in the Senate fear me? It is because tens of thousands of legionaries follow me.
Because of that, the Senate treats me like a vulgar butcher. They tremble in fear that I might bring an army into Rome and become a second Sulla."
Pompey's rough hand stroked his chin.
He had confidence in his military talent, but Roman politics was different.
Unlike Crassus, who bought the favor of many young men—including Caesars—by showering them with money, the politicians supporting Pompey were extremely few.
He had spent most of his life on the battlefield, and his time to build a power base in Rome had been woefully insufficient.
"But that boy Caesar played an interesting trick. My soldiers got the bread and work they needed most.
At the same time, I managed to secure measures for the veterans without shedding a single drop of blood in Rome. I didn't even have to fight the popular assembly or the Senate."
Pompeia's eyes widened slightly.
"The Senate lost its justification to attack you, and at the same time, you gained the reputation of peacefully supporting the veterans without armed conflict."
"Yes, that clever boy Lucius used the Senate's petty pride to help me.
When it comes to creating money and manipulating public sentiment, that boy is even more of a monster than his father."
Pompey stood up from his seat with a satisfied smile.
"And there is no need to fear the soldiers' loyalty wavering. The one who led them to victory on countless battlefields was none other than me.
If Mars ever calls on Rome again, countless soldiers will gather under me. No one would trust their life to a coward like Cicero."
"..."
Pompey reached out to his daughter, who was lost in thought.
"If only you had been a son, Pompeia. If I could have gone to the battlefield with a son as sharp and clever as you..."
"Women have their own battlefields too, Father."
"I suppose so. Sometimes I even think we men fight the easier battles."
Pompey replied with a laugh.
"Come here, my dear. I had something important to tell you today..."
At that moment, a slave approached and whispered to him.
"You have a guest, Master."
"Show them in. No, I should go myself."
Pompey grabbed his daughter's hand.
"Come with me, Pompeia."
"What kind of guest is it?"
"I'll introduce you when we get there."
The two went to the main gate together.
As the slaves opened the doors, a woman stepped inside.
Cornelia, wearing a pure white stola like a Vestal Virgin, entered.
She scanned the mansion, intrigued.
"Cornelia."
"Pompey. We meet again so soon."
Pompey and Cornelia stared at each other in silence for a moment.
After a brief stillness, Cornelia's gaze turned to Pompeia.
"Is this Pompeia, your daughter?"
"She is."
Pompeia bowed her head with a slightly flustered expression.
"It is an honor to meet you, Lady Cornelia."
"..."
Cornelia looked back and forth between Pompey and his daughter, then let out a quiet sigh.
"Then let us begin."
***
With Saturnalia just a few days away, Felix kept working without a moment's rest.
"I mean, supporting the veterans is one thing, but why do I have to manage this sort of thing too?"
Felix grumbled as he tapped his stylus.
By now, just looking at numbers made him sick.
"At least it's a relief I'll be able to rest comfortably once Saturnalia arrives."
No matter how cruel his master, Lucius Caesar, was, there was no way he would make him work through Saturnalia.
Wasn't Saturnalia the most important and sacred festival in Rome?
It was also the only public holiday where slaves were freed from the chores that usually burdened them and could eat food on equal footing with their masters.
In some households, masters and slaves even played a game of swapping roles.
But Felix didn't wish for something that extreme.
All he wanted was to enjoy the holiday comfortably without worrying about work.
"Done with today's work! I'm going home first!"
Just as he hurriedly tried to leave the insula, an employee stopped him.
"The publicani you were scheduled to meet today have arrived."
"Was that today? Alright, then let's just finish that up quickly and be done."
"Um, and also..."
The employee said, scratching his head.
"A few other publicani are requesting a meeting before Saturnalia. They've even been showing up unannounced for the past few days..."
"The other publicani coming to see me without an appointment?"
Felix fell into thought.
Come to think of it, his master, Lucius Caesar, had once proposed that the publicani join his brand.
It was an arrangement where they would pay a portion of their profits regularly in exchange for using the Caesar brand and materials.
But the publicani hadn't accepted it at the time, and the price war with Crassus had ended not long ago.
Declaring his participation in the veterans' support fund, Crassus had raised the price of the Palmolive he had cut in half back to its original price.
Of course, it was still cheaper than Caesar Palmolive, but it was at a level where other producers could compete.
"But now they want to join the brand?"
Just as Felix was lost in thought, the employee handed him a sheet of papyrus.
"Here is the list of publicani requesting a meeting. I've noted down their brands as well."
"Let's see here..."
As Felix read the papyrus, his eyes widened.
"Palmolive, clothing, blacksmithing? And wine? They even have trademarks for wine these days?"
"Since the Trademark Law passed, countless merchants and individuals have created trademarks."
The employee nodded.
"There are so many people trying to see you that we can barely handle it. Please, just show your face for a moment."
"Trademarks for wine. Why would people like them show interest in the veterans' fund?"
Felix muttered in a low voice.
It felt oddly familiar, like a situation he had experienced a few times before.
"Don't tell me the Young Master pulled some strange stunt to make me suffer again."
But what truly shocked Felix was after he finally met the publicani.
Felix coughed and set down the wine cup he was holding.
"You're saying you all want to donate to the Caesar Fund? And with no strings attached?"
Facing a flustered Felix, the merchants all nodded in unison.
"We would like to make our donations as soon as possible before Saturnalia. We have carts waiting outside. Would it be all right to donate right now?"
"..."
Felix could only laugh weakly.
Aren't merchants supposed to do anything for profit?
Not to make money, but practically begging to be allowed to donate, hauling it in themselves on carts sounded ridiculous.
Unless some kind of magic was at work, none of this made any sense.
"Did my master threaten you?"