"You wish to marry my wife?"
"Indeed. I have already obtained the consent of Marcia's father, Philippus."
Cato stared at his guest across the table, his wine cup paused in mid-air.
Hortensius leaned back in his chair, wearing his usual relaxed expression.
"You ask me to hand over my wife. Why should I accept such an offer?"
"Because it benefits you." Hortensius frowned slightly. "You have made far too many enemies with this audit, Cato. You picked apart the funds managed by your fellow Optimates while conveniently ignoring those of Caesar and Crassus."
"I merely uncovered the facts." Cato set his wine cup on the table and continued. "Did the Senate not already acknowledge that my audit was flawlessly accurate?"
"I never said you lied. But regardless of the truth, you have only managed to aid Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus."
"But the Senate was the one who assigned me this task in the first place..."
"I did not come here today to argue with you, Cato. Quite the opposite." Hortensius raised a hand, cutting Cato off. "Your wife, Marcia, is young and still capable of bearing children. You two already have enough offspring."
"Go on."
"If Marcia and I marry, our two families will be bound much closer. If she bears my child, our families will be bound by blood."
"..."
Cato listened in silence. It was not entirely unheard of in Rome for a man to ask for another man's wife in this way. Still, it was hardly common.
"If I do this, people will accuse me of selling my wife to you."
"While I am alive, few will dare spread such slander," Hortensius replied with a smile. "You have made countless enemies over the past few months. But I know your true character, Cato. No one is a greater patriot of the Republic than you. I wish to protect you, and to join forces with you."
In the ensuing silence, Cato brought his wine cup to his lips.
Almost everything Hortensius had said was true.
Ever since falling into the trap laid by Gaius Caesar and his son, he had been buried under a mountain of financial documents, working relentlessly day and night.
He had poured his heart and soul into the audit, yet his fellow senators now accused him of actively assisting Caesar.
While no significant corruption was found in Lucius's fund, massive embezzlement was uncovered in the foundations managed by other senators.
Those corrupt individuals were now slandering Cato in a desperate attempt to cover up their own crimes.
"If you remain isolated like this, Caesar will achieve his goals unchecked. Let me help you before that happens."
Cato remained silent. Even if he sent Marcia to Hortensius, he could simply remarry her after Hortensius passed away.
He might even inherit Hortensius's vast fortune in the process.
For Cato, who already had enough children, there was virtually no downside to the arrangement.
He would also gain a powerful political ally against Caesar's faction.
"I..."
Cato slowly opened his mouth. There was only one decision he could make.
"I cannot accept."
"...May I ask why?"
"Caesar has never hidden his actions thus far. He has been remarkably transparent," Cato said.
When Cato had uncovered a few minor accounting errors, Lucius had openly disclosed them to the public, distancing himself entirely from those who had embezzled funds.
At the very least, Caesar was still willing to accept criticism.
"If I were to ally with you now, my voice would lose its power. People would believe I am no longer impartial, that I am merely taking your side."
"So you intend to stand alone and keep Caesar in check?" Hortensius crossed his arms.
His relaxed expression was gone; his face had reddened with indignation. "Do you not realize that is exactly what Caesar wants? You can never stand against him alone. You will be left adrift, with no allies and no harbor."
"We shall see. I will walk my own path, Senator."
Cato escorted the still-fuming Hortensius to the front entrance.
When he returned to the atrium, Marcia approached him with a deeply worried expression.
"You turned even Hortensius into an enemy. Will you be all right?"
"Rome requires it."
Cato muttered, gazing up at the open sky through the compluvium.
The sun was already dipping below the horizon.
The last rays of sunlight illuminated the clouds, painting them in brilliant, fiery colors.
What choice would his great-grandfather, Cato the Elder, have made?
If protecting the Republic required it...
Holding his wife's hand, Cato couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle.
Perhaps, at this very moment, Caesar was cheering in triumph.
"I wonder what that boy Lucius is doing right now."
***
"How about Sextus?"
"Gaius might be safer. Giving him the name Lucius would be entirely too confusing."
I whispered as I held Pompeia in my arms. I never thought the day would come when I would actually be choosing a name for my child.
"Well, if it is a daughter, Julia is pretty much a given," Pompeia shrugged. "We Romans have never been especially creative with names."
We were choosing a name for our future child.
In truth, it wasn't a particularly complicated process.
Romans heavily recycled their ancestors' names, and women's names, in particular, were practically identical.
Most of the women in my family, the Julii, were named Julia.
To tell them apart, all sorts of modifiers had to be tacked onto their names.
The men had it slightly better, but they still suffered from the endless repetition of names like Sextus, Lucius, and Gaius.
"Do you want a son too, Lucius?"
"Honestly... I am not sure," I replied with a smile.
I still hadn't fully processed being married, let alone becoming a father. It felt like something out of a distant future.
Ever since I found myself in this era, I had done everything I could to protect my family.
But I had never considered the possibility that my family might actually grow. At least, not until I married Pompeia.
"I don't even know if I can be a good father."
"You will be a wonderful father. I can guarantee it," Pompeia said, gently stroking my cheek. "Let's get some sleep now. Tomorrow is a very important day."
After a few more minutes of quiet conversation, Pompeia drifted off to sleep.
Left alone in the dark, I stared up at the ceiling of the bedchamber, lost in thought.
Me, a father.
It still felt so surreal. Was I even qualified for such a role?
As a chaotic swirl of thoughts filled my mind, I eventually slipped into a deep sleep.
***
"The school called. They said you fought with a classmate?"
"Mom, he started it..."
"I don't want to hear excuses."
I stared down at the bowl in front of me, my head bowed. The cereal floating in the milk had already turned soggy.
My mother had her back turned to me, busy preparing something in the kitchen.
"Do you have any idea how much I gave up to raise you? My job, my career, my entire life—I put it all on hold," my mother said, opening the refrigerator. "And you still insist on causing me grief like this? I already have enough headaches because of your father..."
"I'm sorry."
I stirred the bowl with my spoon, my head still lowered. The soggy clumps of cereal drifted aimlessly around the spoon.
"Just focus on your studies and don't think about anything else. I'll take care of this mess, so don't cause any more trouble."
"..."
"Are you listening?"
"Yes. Thanks."
I left the still-full bowl of cereal in the sink and walked out of the kitchen. The short walk back to my room felt strangely cold.
Entering my dark room, I sat down at the desk. I remembered how old I was. I was an elementary school student again.
I watched as my hands moved on their own, completely independent of my will. As I wrote in my homework notebook, I picked up my phone and called a number.
It was my father. After more than twenty rings, the call finally connected.
"What is it now?"
A sharply irritated voice barked through the speaker.
"Didn't I tell you I'm busy at this hour? If it's not urgent..."
"About what I mentioned last time... The father-son camping trip the school organized..."
"Ah, that." A brief silence followed. "I'm sorry, but I have to cancel."
"Cancel...?"
"Yes, an urgent business trip came up. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you and take you somewhere nice next time."
"But I already told all my friends..."
"I have urgent matters to attend to right now. We'll talk later, okay?"
I stared blankly at the disconnected phone. His messaging app profile picture showed him arm in arm with a woman I didn't recognize.
Was it his second girlfriend since the divorce? I couldn't remember.
After sitting there in a daze for a while, I lay down on my bed.
Now I remembered it clearly.
It was the last day I ever cried.
As I buried my face into the pillow, someone knocked on my door. I kept my eyes squeezed shut and lay perfectly still.
When I didn't answer, the door rattled more violently.
"Lucius!"
As I slowly lifted my head, the door swung wide open—and there he was.
My father.
Gaius Julius Caesar.
"The sun is already high in the sky, and you are still sleeping? I know you hate sword training, but you cannot sleep your life away like this. Come, let us head to the Campus Martius before it gets any later."
Father approached me, flashing his usual bright smile. At the exact same moment, everything around me began to crumble.
The kitchen, the bowl of soggy cereal, the bedchamber, the bed, the phone. Everything vanished, leaving only my father behind.
"Or do you expect me to hold your hand and pull you up like a baby?"
I stared blankly at his extended hand for a moment before reaching out and grasping it.
The moment I grasped his hand, I jolted awake.
***
"Sleeping in on such a momentous day. Anyone would think Lucius doesn't care about me at all."
"I will go wake the Young Master right away."
As I opened my eyes, familiar voices drifted into the room. My father and Felix. The two men were talking as they approached my bedchamber.
Pompeia was nowhere to be seen; she had likely already left to prepare herself for the day.
I got out of bed to greet them.
"Ah, Lucius. So you weren't still asleep after all." Father smiled, already dressed in his toga.
It wasn't his usual toga; this one had a broad purple border. The toga praetexta. In Rome, it marked certain magistrates, priests, and freeborn boys.
"I could hardly miss the day my father entered office as consul."
"That excuse rings a little hollow, considering you have only just woken up." Father chuckled and stepped closer to me. "Hurry and get ready. The lictors have already arrived."
"I will be out shortly."
Just as Father turned to leave, I asked without thinking.
"Father."
"Yes?"
"What kind of son do you think I have been?"
Father stopped in his tracks, looking mildly surprised.
"What kind of son... Now that is an interesting question."
"My apologies, it was a foolish question. I must still be half-asleep. Just ignore it..."
"A parent has no right to demand anything from their child. The only thing a parent can hope for is to become their child's friend one day." Father offered a warm smile. "You are not just my son, Lucius. You are also my closest friend."
"I see."
A friend. There couldn't possibly be a more Caesar-esque answer than that. I stood completely still for a moment before finally managing a nod.
"Did something happen? Why ask such a thing all of a sudden?"
"It is nothing. Perhaps I am just feeling a bit sentimental given the significance of the day."
"I suppose that makes sense." Father shrugged, still smiling. "There is a rumor in the streets, you know. They say this year's consuls are Gaius and Lucius."
"Lucceius would burst into tears if he heard that."
Once my toga was properly arranged, I stepped out into the atrium.
Just as father had said, his official attendants—the lictors—were already standing by the main gates, holding their fasces.
And it wasn't just the lictors. Mother, Julia, Felix, Pompeia, and the rest of my family were all waiting for me.
Yes. Today was an incredibly important day.
The day the true transformation of Rome began.
And more than anything, it was a day I would share with my family.