While I was up to my ears in work on the development of the new city, some welcome news arrived.
"Your wife is pregnant? That's wonderful news."
Felix scratched his head, looking a bit sheepish at my words.
"She has wanted a child for some time, after all."
"And you didn't?"
"I put in my fair share of effort, too. Do you have any idea how much moray eel I've eaten?"
Felix said, looking genuinely disgusted. I suppose work wasn't the only place he was being tortured by slippery eels.
"What about you, Young Master?"
"What about me?"
"You know exactly what I mean. Has Lady Pompeia..."
"No news yet."
I replied with a chuckle. Well, we were certainly doing our part, too.
Though there was no need to spell out exactly what kind of effort that entailed.
"Everything happens in its own time."
"I agree."
Felix cleared his throat.
"Lady Pompeia has been working so relentlessly that some of the staff are actually praying for the two of you to have a baby soon."
"That is a strange thing to pray for."
Was Pompeia really that terrifying of a boss?
I never really got that vibe from her at home.
"Anyway, your wife is pregnant. Take a few days off and spend some time with her, Felix."
"My wife is the one who's pregnant, not me."
Felix shrugged.
"Besides, with the mountain of work we have to get through right now..."
"Take the opportunity to spend some time with her and catch your breath. Five days should be enough, right?"
Felix looked surprised for a moment before his eyes narrowed in sheer suspicion.
"You aren't plotting something again, are you?"
"I'm really not a bad guy, you know."
Why did everyone seem to treat me like some sort of evil boss these days?
"I don't have any ulterior motives, so stop worrying and get some rest."
"But all the paperwork..."
"I'll handle the affairs of the Strategy Office myself."
"You will handle it personally, Young Master? It won't be easy."
"Anything you can do, I can do, Felix."
"Is that a promise, then? If you're giving me your word that I can just rest and do absolutely nothing for five days..."
"I said yes. Now stop asking and go home. Give my best to your wife."
I didn't understand why he was so worried.
I was the one who handled all this work before I handed it off to him in the first place.
I was more than capable of managing it alone.
And it didn't take long for me to realize just how deeply mistaken I was.
***
"So, let me get this straight. You want to build a stadium exclusively for gridiron? In the new city we're currently building?"
"Exactly. It's actually the money I've been saving up to build a grand theater. But a 'Stadium of Pompey' has a rather nice ring to it, don't you think? Could I consult with your engineers about this?"
"I suppose we would have to start by selecting a site..."
The person tormenting me every single day was none other than my father-in-law.
Pompey visited me practically every other hour to discuss his idea for a football stadium.
I was seriously starting to regret ever introducing the sport.
"Why don't you go speak with Vitruvius first? I'm sure he can come up with a brilliant design."
Even after I successfully passed Pompey off to Vitruvius, the paperwork in the Strategy Office kept pouring in like a flood.
"These are the new documents requiring your approval. Once you review them, please let us know..."
"Got it."
I gnawed at the stalk of sugarcane in my mouth. Imported all the way from the East, sugarcane was quite the expensive luxury.
In a Rome where tobacco did not exist, it was one of the few indulgences I could enjoy.
At this rate, I was going to end up working overtime every night, chewing on sugarcane just to stay sane.
"Demand for stationery and postal services has surged recently. We need to hire additional couriers for the time being to..."
"The Cooks' Collegium reports that they've developed a new pasta recipe. They wish to compile a cookbook and publish it to..."
I hurried through the documents and worked my way through one meeting after another.
It's true what they say: you never truly understand a man until you walk a mile in his shoes.
I had no idea Felix was shouldering this absurd amount of work.
By the time the day's work was finally wrapping up, I let out a massive yawn and leaned back in my chair.
But before long, another uninvited delegation came to see me.
It was the Jewish scholars.
"I am incredibly busy these days. Could you perhaps get straight to the point?"
"Of course."
The Jewish scholars nodded in understanding.
"You must remember how we funded the production of commemorative stamps for Roman citizens during the last Lusus Troiae."
"Of course. That single event is what kicked off the whole stamp craze."
Back then, they had wanted to build a Trojan Horse, but I had them make commemorative stamps instead.
"Since that day, the Roman citizens' perception of us Jews has improved significantly. Therefore..."
I nearly choked at the scholar's next words.
Did I hear that correctly?
"You want to build a Trojan Horse in the new city's forum?"
"Yes. Have the Roman citizens not already shown great interest in the Trojan Games and the commemorative stamps? If we erect a massive wooden horse in the new forum, the citizens will surely welcome it."
"Hmm..."
I stroked my chin. Erecting a wooden horse in the new city's forum.
No matter how I looked at it, something felt a bit off.
The wooden horse was undoubtedly the universal symbol of the Trojan War, but strictly speaking, it was the very thing that destroyed Troy.
And the Romans considered themselves the descendants of the Trojans.
Stamps were one thing, but would they really want to erect a monument in their forum depicting the instrument of their ancestors' downfall?
"We could present the wooden horse as a symbol of a new beginning."
A Strategy Office staff member, who had been listening to our conversation, chimed in.
"A new beginning?"
"Rome traces its origins to the fall of Troy. What began as a tragedy for the Trojans eventually led to the rise of Rome."
"Well, framing it like that could certainly work. I'll review the proposal a bit more."
The Jewish scholars bowed, offering profuse thanks before taking their leave.
Still, I had thought they would be reluctant to sponsor an image tied to Greco-Roman myth.
To think they were pooling funds to build a Trojan Horse.
The situation was ironic in more ways than one.
After finally finishing the day's work, I returned home and let out a long sigh of relief.
"Finally, I can get some rest."
But, as Fortuna seemed determined to remind me, another uninvited visitor was already waiting at my home.
This time, it was none other than Father—Gaius Julius Caesar.
"I've been waiting for you, Lucius."
Father said, flashing his usual beaming smile.
***
"As with any grand scheme, a proper name is of the utmost importance."
"A name?"
I asked, rubbing my sleepy eyes.
Father, completely oblivious to my exhaustion, pointed excitedly at a map.
The map showed the area across the Tiber where construction on the new city was underway.
"Right now, this region is simply being called 'the land beyond the Tiber.' It's far too dull and lacks any character."
"That's true."
It was a detail I hadn't paid much attention to, but Father was right on that point.
The branding of a policy could be just as important as its execution.
"Do you have a name in mind?"
"I heard those Jewish scholars went to you today with a proposal about a Trojan Horse. They came to see me as well."
They had even sought out the consul to make their plea. They were clearly serious about this.
"They expressed their gratitude, claiming that the hostility they faced had diminished since they distributed those stamps during the Lusus Troiae."
Father added.
"As you know, Jewish law does not permit them to join in many of our civic rites. But by erecting a monument that everyone can see, they can demonstrate their respect for Roman culture."
Father continued, his eyes gleaming.
"The moment I heard their proposal, a rather amusing thought crossed my mind. What if we named this newly incorporated district..."
He paused for dramatic effect.
"Nova Troia?"
"New Troy,"
I murmured.
Nova was Latin for 'new'.
"It's a fitting name for a new city. It perfectly evokes the tale of Aeneas."
Aeneas was the Trojan son of Venus and Anchises. According to the old stories, he escaped the fall of Troy and eventually came to Italy, where his descendants were said to have founded Rome.
After wandering across the Mediterranean, legend held that he eventually reached Italy and laid the foundations for a new home.
Romulus, the founder of Rome, was said to be one of his descendants.
"Since stories of Troy and Aeneas have become wildly popular after the last Lusus Troiae, this will make excellent use of that enthusiasm."
Right then, a fun idea flashed through my mind.
"Perhaps we could try something entirely new as well."
"Something new?"
"We could hold a modest event to commemorate the founding of the new city: a literary competition centered on the story of Aeneas."
Pamphlets, public notices, and private correspondence had already become central to Rome's new culture of reading and writing.
So why not take full advantage of that?
"A literary competition? You mean a contest for prose tales and poetry?"
"Yes. We would give every citizen the chance to display their skill as a writer."
Above all, I knew one of my dearest family members—a talented writer in her own right—would welcome the proposal with open arms.
"I'm certain Julia will absolutely love it."
＊＊＊
"It seems Brutus has been visiting our home quite frequently these days."
Cornelia remarked, crossing her arms as she gazed out into the atrium.
Brutus sat in the atrium, fidgeting nervously.
"He is only here to see Father because he is writing that work about his uncle, Cato."
Julia said with a soft smile.
"Yes, he did mention he wanted his writing critiqued. But it's awfully strange how he only ever seems to visit when your father isn't home."
"Why would Brutus do that?"
"Well, perhaps there's someone else he's hoping to see instead of your father?"
Cornelia hinted at it with a knowing smile, but Julia barely reacted.
"Do you think Brutus has a crush on you, Mother?"
"Well, I certainly had my fair share of admirers in my younger days. But I don't think he comes to see me."
"Then I suppose I'd better go keep Brutus company in Father's stead."
"Julia."
Cornelia stared at her daughter for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh.
If Lucius took after her, then Julia had certainly inherited Caesar's bold personality.
"You are still an unwed young lady. Keep that in mind."
"But Father said the two of you had been madly in love long before you married."
"That man and his loose lips..."
Leaving her blushing mother behind, Julia smiled and approached Brutus.
With her hands clasped behind her back, she leaned closer and asked,
"What sort of writing did you bring today?"
***
In the Roman Republic, public buildings were often associated with the magistrate or patron who commissioned or funded them.
For instance, a theater financed by Pompey would be called the Theater of Pompey.
However, the idea of a small group of individuals funding the development of an entire city district was unprecedented in the history of the Republic.
So, what were they supposed to call this new district?
"Caesar and Crassus are footing the bill, so shouldn't it be named after the two of them?"
"The Caesar-Crassus City? Or maybe the Caesar-Crassus District?"
"Who knows? Crassus's supporters are demanding his name go first. Saying it should be the Crassus-Caesar City."
"That sounds incredibly petty."
"Not necessarily. Whose name comes first is a matter of great political importance."
Amidst the endless gossip over the city's name, the first official announcement was finally made.
Nova Troia.
Caesar and Crassus submitted the name jointly to the Senate.
They formally requested the Senate's approval.
While the Senate was still deliberating over the name, another announcement followed.
A literary competition would be held to commemorate the city's expansion: a contest for prose tales and poetry centered on Troy and Aeneas.
"So all we have to do is write something and submit it?"
"Just submit it by post. Anyone can use the postal service now."
"That's true. There is no need to travel all the way there to deliver it in person."
Rome's literary circles, poets included, wholeheartedly welcomed the news. Until then, their only paths to success had been finding a wealthy patron or publishing their own work.
But very few authors earned a respectable living by publishing their own work under their own names.
"If you win this contest, imagine the sheer fame you'd earn."
"Don't forget the prize money, either."
However, the literary contest did not proceed without a hitch.
The most critical issue was selecting the judges—and specifically, the head judge.
A fierce struggle erupted behind the scenes over the position.
The contenders were none other than Rome's current consul and a former consul.
"I have read more literature and written more of it than any man alive. I read even when I was held captive by pirates and while I was fleeing Sulla's wrath!"
"The same is true of me! From the very moment I learned to read, I have never once let a papyrus roll leave my hands!"
Caesar and Cicero.
The two men engaged in a fierce struggle over the role of chief judge, neither willing to yield an inch.
Unlike their past political clashes, this was not some carefully staged piece of political theater.
Both men were deadly serious.
"I will not surrender the chair!"
"I won't yield, either!"