Chapter 90: The Heir

May 24, 221 AD, Civitas Aurelia, Gallia.

Lucius was en route to the estate of Magistrate Drusus to inspect the dividends of his republic. Sitting by his side, draped in a cloak of wolf fur, was Isolda. Her eyes were fixed with hostility on the third occupant of the carriage.

Valeria Gratus sat on the opposite bench, keeping her gaze locked on the passing landscape.

Lucius had no intention of bringing the patrician on a diplomatic excursion. However, leaving the daughter of the Governor unsupervised in a praetorium filled with blueprints and espionage cells was a security risk. Valeria was too intelligent to be left to her own devices.

Thus, she had been forced into the carriage. And Isolda was unhappy about it...

The Gothic princess had spent the journey radiating an aura that made the air outside feel warm. Lucius kept one arm wrapped around his wife’s waist and reviewed a wax tablet of production quotas, pretending the two women in his empire were not trying to murder each other with their minds.

By mid-afternoon, the carriage passed a perimeter of armed *Custodes* and rolled into the courtyard of Magistrate Drusus’s villa.

Drusus, a man who had abandoned his Roman pride the moment Lucius began paying him dividends from the glass kilns, was waiting by the fountains with his family. The moment the carriage came to a halt, the magistrate rushed forward, bowing as the Forge Master stepped down onto the gravel.

"Dominus!" Drusus greeted. "Welcome to my home. The winter harvests have been audited, and the agricultural machinery you provided is working miracles."

Lucius offered a nod, turning to assist Isolda down from the cabin. "I expect nothing less."

Drusus maintained his smile until Valeria stepped out of the carriage behind Isolda. The magistrate blinked, his eyes darting over the young woman. He recognized the skin and posture of a Roman aristocrat.

"And... who might this guest be?" Drusus asked.

Lucius stepped between the magistrate and the girl, his expression giving nothing away. "This is Lady Livia. She is a consultant from the south, advising the Syndicate on the complexities of Mediterranean trade tariffs. I require her insight."

It was a lie, but Drusus was a seasoned politician. He offered a bow. "An honor, Lady Livia. My villa is at your disposal."

Valeria offered a smile. "Your hospitality is noted, Magistrate."

As Lucius launched into a discussion regarding the integration of water-powered grain mills, Valeria felt a wave of isolation wash over her. She watched the Forge Master command the attention of every man in the courtyard, ignoring her presence now that the introductions were over.

She had abandoned her family, risked crucifixion, and sailed across a sea because she believed Lucius Cassius would recognize her intellect. Yet, standing in this courtyard, she felt exactly as she had in her father’s palace: like a piece of furniture.

When the guests were escorted into the villa to refresh themselves before the banquet, Valeria was shown to a guest chamber overlooking the vineyards. The moment the door clicked shut, the armor she wore shattered...

Valeria sank onto the edge of the mattress, burying her face in her hands. A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another.

A click of the door latch made her jump.

Valeria scrambled backward on the bed, her heart hammering as the door swung open. Stepping into the chamber was Isolda.

Valeria wiped the tears from her face. She braced herself, expecting the Gothic princess to draw a hidden blade and end the rivalry.

Instead, Isolda let out a sigh. She walked across the room and took a seat in a chair opposite the bed, resting her hands over her stomach.

"You are crying because he ignored you in the courtyard," Isolda stated.

Valeria’s jaw tightened. "I am crying because I am a prisoner to a man who uses my intellect as a parlor trick to amuse magistrates."

Isolda stared at the Roman woman for a moment. To Valeria’s shock, the hostility in the Gothic princess’s eyes faded.

Isolda sighed. "If you are waiting for him to write you a poem or swoon over your eyes, you will die waiting."

Valeria frowned, bewildered. "Why are you telling me this? You hate me. You have spent the last three weeks looking at me as if you want to mount my head on a pike."

"Because you are naive," Isolda replied. "You think you are just a hostage. You are not. Lucius is building an ironclad fleet. He intends to break the Roman naval blockades and seize the Mediterranean. But war is expensive. If he can secure the southern ports without firing a single explosive, he will do it."

Isolda leaned forward. "When the time is right, he will likely offer your father a bloodless surrender. He will take you as a Roman bride to pacify the Senate, linking the Cassius and Gratus houses to legitimize his control of the sea."

Valeria stopped breathing. Her mind reeled as the scope of the Forge Master’s ambition clicked into place.

Roman law forbade polygamy, but Lucius had already burned Roman law to ash.

"A second wife?" Valeria whispered, her hands trembling.

Isolda’s expression hardened, a possessive fire returning to her eyes.

Isolda sighed. "He may drape you in silk to appease the old men in Rome. He may put a crown on your head to secure the southern fleets. But I bleed for this state, and I kill for this state. I am his shadow, and I will be the mother of his heir. He will never place you above me."

The room fell into silence... Valeria stared at the woman sitting across from her.

The tears dried. Valeria straightened her spine, lifting her chin to meet Isolda’s stare without flinching. "Do not expect me to be a passive broodmare to secure his supply lines. If he intends to use my bloodline to rule Rome, I will ensure he respects the mind attached to it. I will fight for my place in his world."

Isolda studied the Roman girl for a minute. A smirk touched the corners of the Gothic princess’s lips.

"Good," Isolda murmured, pushing herself up from the chair. "A weak woman would bore him, and I refuse to let a boring woman into my household."