"Iaia, still working today? I thought you said you were taking the day off."
"Orders suddenly started flooding in."
Iaia replied to the pot-bellied man in Latin colored by a thick foreign accent. Her tunic was cinched at the waist and had short sleeves, much like the garments worn by women working in bakeries or fulleries.
Iaia set down her chisel and called out to her apprentices working nearby.
"That's enough for today, everyone! Return to your stations, finish the prop orders you're working on, and then call it a day!"
"Understood, ma'am."
Her apprentices scattered back to their respective stations. Among them were not only young men but also several women, like Iaia herself.
Iaia wiped the sweat from her brow with a scrap of cloth. In front of her stood a block of marble, half-carved into the shape of a wooden horse.
"Are the orders really piling up that badly?"
"Ever since the Trojan Games, we've been inundated with orders for Trojan horses," Iaia said with a chuckle, looking at the marble block. "A 'wooden' horse carved out of marble. It's quite absurd, really. Though as someone who usually sculpts nothing but portrait busts, I find it rather refreshing."
"Must be exhausting having so much work." The pot-bellied man grinned. "Have you thought any more about the proposal I made before? It cannot be easy for a woman your age to live alone. And as fortune would have it, my wife passed away not long ago. If we were to live together..."
"In your dreams, you lecherous old goat."
"Oh, come now. I only thought it would be beneficial for both of us." The pot-bellied man chuckled, adjusting his toga. "Surely it is a tempting offer for you as well?"
"By 'mutual benefit,' you mean my estate. You would gain access to my workshop's earnings and my exclusive clientele. Naturally, I would gain nothing from it."
"Do you truly think me so calculating?"
"No. A calculating man would at least be tolerable. I dislike you because your schemes are painfully obvious."
"Well, I suppose you always did prefer surrounding yourself with women rather than men."
Iaia sighed. Even after leaving her homeland for Rome, life as an artist remained a constant struggle.
Thanks to the reputation she had built in her homeland, she had found patrons who allowed her to keep working, but keeping a workshop with multiple apprentices running required steady and substantial financial support.
And in Rome, as elsewhere, it was never easy for an unmarried woman to protect herself.
"Why are you here today, anyway?"
"Surely you've heard of Pompeia."
"You mean the lady who commissioned the Trojan horse for the games?" Iaia asked, tilting her head.
By now, there were few artists in Rome who had not heard of Pompeia and Lucius Caesar. As the advertising market grew rapidly, artists were pushing themselves to their limits to avoid falling behind their rivals.
"She is Lucius Caesar's wife."
"Indeed. She wishes to commission you personally."
"Commission me?"
"Yes. Apparently, she was deeply impressed by your work during the Trojan Games."
The pot-bellied broker continued his explanation. As the broker explained, Iaia's eyes widened.
"She wants me to do what?"
***
"What does Lucius want with me?"
Brutus asked, looking at Pompeia with a puzzled expression. He had listened to her detailed explanation, but he still struggled to grasp the idea.
Gathering news from Rome, organizing it, and sending it regularly across Italy? No one in Roman history had ever conceived of such an idea.
Or rather, without Lucius, no one ever would have.
"It is exactly as you heard. For now, we plan to send brief news and essential information via the signal towers. Then hired criers in each city will announce the contents in the local forum," Pompeia continued. "Later on, once the postal network is fully established, we will regularly dispatch news sheets containing more detailed reports to every city."
"Sending news from Rome to the allied cities by letter... what exactly does Lucius stand to gain from this?"
"We make sure the citizens know what we have done." Pompeia offered a bright smile. "And other politicians will have to be far more cautious if their public actions are reported to the citizens."
"..."
Brutus hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"Then... I would be working alongside you, Lady Pompeia?"
"Indeed."
Brutus struggled to maintain his composure. He had been filled with eager anticipation when he first accepted Lucius's invitation.
But to work with a woman? No matter how capable Pompeia was, the idea of working as an equal with a woman was foreign to him.
Would this not make him a laughingstock in Rome?
"Is there something bothering you?"
"Not at all! I was merely surprised by how unexpected the proposal was."
"We will decide what information to present to the citizens. But if we report only news that favors us, we will lose their trust in no time," Pompeia said.
Lucius had emphasized one condition above all else: the key to gaining public trust.
"We must always speak the truth to the citizens. And as Lucius told me... there is no one more genuinely devoted to truth, justice, and the Republic than Brutus."
"An opportunity to record the history of Rome as it unfolds and present it to every citizen in Italy," Brutus murmured, a gentle smile spreading across his face. "When do we begin?"
***
Even after her meeting with Brutus, Pompeia's day was far from over. After leaving her residence, she made her way through the streets toward the Forum.
It did not take long for her to reach her family home, Pompey's house.
She took a long, deep stretch before passing through the main gates. Running from one place to another since early morning had left her body feeling stiff and weary.
Pompey welcomed her in the atrium.
"Ah, Pompeia. There you are."
"Father, you said you wanted to see me. Has something happened?"
"Does a father need a reason to see his own daughter?" Pompey cleared his throat, his gaze drifting as he continued. "Actually, I heard something from Gaius Caesar recently. He mentioned a plan to spread this game of gridiron across all of Italy."
"Yes, that is correct. We plan to use the temples and collegia, though nothing is set in stone just yet."
A brief silence fell, and Pompeia chuckled as she looked at her father.
"You want to be part of it too, don't you, Father?"
"I never said any such thing. I merely... thought they might need someone with experience."
"Of course."
Pompeia replied, walking closer to her father. Her father had never truly adapted to the murky world of Roman politics.
Since his youth, he had commanded legions on battlefields across Hispania and the East, and during the suppression of Spartacus's rebellion.
Pompey loved the clarity of the battlefield, where enemies and allies were clearly defined. Roman politics, however, was the exact opposite.
Caught in a sea of conspiracies, where allies betrayed one another and factions shifted with the wind, her father had often found himself bewildered and frustrated.
After serving as consul alongside Crassus, he had largely retreated to his estate and rarely even attended Senate meetings.
Pompey always needed a new campaign.
It was Lucius who had thrown him a lifeline when he was drowning in boredom.
Ever since entrusting him with the implementation of the signal towers, Lucius had subtly kept Pompey occupied with various projects.
The Trojan Games had been no different. Lucius had reached out to the restless Pompey, and Magnus had seized the opportunity with unmistakable enthusiasm.
"You could just tell Lucius directly, you know. I am sure he would welcome your proposal, Father."
"Undoubtedly. But for me to step forward and ask first..."
"Does your pride forbid it?"
"I simply do not wish to burden my son-in-law," Pompey added hastily, lifting his hands in protest. "Gridiron is an entirely new game. If we are to codify the rules properly and instruct the citizens of Italy, we will need centralized coordination."
"You did the exact same thing during the Trojan Games. You were eager to watch the training sessions on the Campus Martius, yet you refused to go until Lucius asked you," Pompeia said with a smirk. "I will bring it up with him."
"Thank you. But under no circumstances should you let him know I asked!"
"I understand, father. So, what specific responsibilities do you wish to take on?"
"I have no intention of running the entire affair. As I said, codifying the official rules, drafting a training manual, and instructing visitors from the allied cities would be quite enough for me."
"Most people would call that wanting to run the entire affair."
Pompeia spoke with her father a while longer before leaving the estate.
Even after stepping through the gates, a warm smile remained on her lips, and she let out a soft sigh.
Her father was not the only person Lucius had transformed.
"Now, it is finally time to go home."
What she had been looking forward to most all day was waiting for her.
***
With the Trojan Games over and the end of the year fast approaching, Rome plunged into preparations for the annual Saturnalia.
While everyone continued to discuss gridiron after the Trojan Games, rumors also swirled that the postal service would begin operating in earnest early next year.
"By the way, do you still have that little slip of paper they handed out?"
"Of course. They said if you hold onto it, you can send a letter for free."
"Sending a letter with a tiny scrap of paper like this? I still can hardly believe it."
"Well, we will find out soon enough. And besides, Lucius Caesar himself promised it."
Yet the postage stamps were not the only novelty on everyone's lips.
The symbols printed on them, along with miniature figurines made of wood and clay, had become a sensation.
"I never imagined the Trojan horse would become such a trend."
"Were people ever this fascinated by Troy before?"
"It is not just the citizens of Rome. Merchants from Ostia are apparently buying those horse figurines in bulk."
"It seems the craze has spread far beyond Rome."
Most Romans were familiar with the legendary kingdom of Troy, the land where their ancient ancestors were said to have lived in the distant past.
It was the city from which Rome's forebears were said to have fled after its tragic downfall, a tale immortalized in ancient epics.
But never before had Troy become such a commercial craze in Rome.
"Then again, it is hardly surprising, not after the massive crowds that gathered for the Trojan Games."
"Has there ever been a finer spectacle?"
The resounding success of the games had sparked an unprecedented fascination with Troy among the public. And Lucius Caesar, who had set all of this in motion, was finally heading home.
***
"Good work today, Felix."
"I will see you tomorrow, Young Master."
I nearly stumbled as I came to a stop before the main gates of my house. The guard bowed respectfully and opened the gates for me.
At the same time, other servants hurried over to help me out of my heavy toga and into a comfortable linen tunic.
I simply wriggled until the toga slipped off and fell to the ground.
"Sorry for keeping you all up so late."
"It is no trouble at all, sir."
I made my way toward my bedchamber. Pompeia was bound to be asleep by this hour.
While many Roman couples kept separate chambers, I had insisted that Pompeia and I share one.
My head felt a bit hazy, likely because I had been sipping watered wine all day.
Today alone, Felix had brought me a mountain of inquiries from various cities, and Father had already sent over a detailed proposal for the new gridiron league. Every enterprise I built seemed to wrap another chain around me.
Still, at least tonight I could enjoy a quiet evening with Pompeia.
I pushed open the bedchamber door and stepped inside.
"Forgive me for being so late, Pompeia. I had some matters to attend to..."
I froze.
Pompeia was not in bed. The room was strangely quiet.
Then the light from the lamp on the table revealed a figure in the corner of the room. It was a human silhouette. But it was not Pompeia.
A middle-aged woman I had never seen before gave me an awkward smile.
"Good evening."
Just as I was about to call for the servants, Pompeia's voice came from behind me.
"Lucius. You are home earlier than I expected."
"I actually thought I was late."
I looked at Pompeia as she walked into the room. She let out a long, heavy sigh.
"Apologies for startling you, Lucius."
"She is no servant I recognize. Who is she?"
At my question, the middle-aged woman gave a slight bow.
"I will explain everything. But first, you must promise not to laugh."
"As long as she is not a secret lover you have been hiding from me, I can endure it."
Despite my jest, Pompeia took my hand with a grave expression.
"There is something I want to give you."
"Don't tell me you prepared a statue of me like Brutus did. You know we don't have enough space in the atrium."
"It is not a statue. Still, you must promise not to laugh when you see it."
I noticed that the tips of Pompeia's ears had turned bright red. I hadn't seen her this flustered since our wedding night.
"It is not quite finished yet," she added with a sigh. "Promise me you won't laugh."
"I swear by Jupiter."
But it did not take long for me to break that oath.