Chapter 91: Supremacy

To solidify the success of the new *Lex Syndicata* and to visibly demonstrate the ungodly wealth the new glass kilns were generating, Lucius had mandated a provincial banquet to be held in the praetorium’s central courtyard.

The courtyard had been transformed.

Thousands of beeswax candles burned in polished silver sconces. The tables were overflowing with roasted venison, spiced Gallic wine, and towering pyramids of Mediterranean fruits imported via Titus’s newly secured smuggler fleet.

For the newly appointed magistrates and the former aristocratic landowners, it was a terrifyingly clear demonstration of the Forge Master’s absolute economic supremacy.

For the common laborers and *Custodes* veterans who had been invited, it was a night of unprecedented, roaring celebration.

Lucius was currently trapped between the two most strong-willed women in his empire, both of whom had consumed a significant amount of wine.

Isolda sat directly to his left, her midnight-blue silk gown shimmering in the candlelight, the custom steel corslet comfortably supporting her pregnancy.

To his right sat Valeria Gratus, draped in an elegant, flowing crimson *stola*.

While they were not screaming at each other, the quiet warfare they were engaging in was exhausting Lucius’s patience.

Isolda, feeling particularly possessive, reached over and rested her hand firmly on Lucius’s thigh beneath the table, shooting a triumphant, sideways glance at the Roman girl.

Valeria, refusing to be outmaneuvered, leaned across Lucius to grab a cluster of grapes from a silver platter, ensuring her shoulder brushed against his chest.

She offered the Forge Master a bright, overly familiar smile.

Lucius took a very slow, very deep breath, keeping his expression neutral.

He removed Isolda’s hand from his leg and subtly shifted his weight away from Valeria.

Isolda let out a mocking laugh, taking a delicate sip of her wine. "Careful, Forge Master. If you explain the mechanics of the kitchens to her, she might mistake a grain silo for a romantic gesture."

Valeria’s smile vanished.

She turned toward the Gothic princess. "Do you prefer the old tribal methods of simply hitting the ledgers with an axe until the numbers balance?"

Isolda’s eyes narrowed into lethal slits.

She set her silver goblet down. "Do not test my patience tonight, patrician. I am pregnant, and the *Lex Syndicata* explicitly states that the Director of the Shadows operates with unquestioned immunity."

"That is enough," Lucius cut in. He gripped the edge of the table, looking between the two women.

"If either of you causes a diplomatic incident at this table, I will throw both of you into the Rhone River to cool off. Behave."

Valeria looked down at her plate, her cheeks flushing red.

She was not accustomed to being disciplined like an unruly subordinate. Isolda simply crossed her arms, her jaw clenching as she averted her gaze, though a flicker of genuine irritation crossed her features.

Sitting a few tables away, Decimus the blacksmith was watching the entire exchange with an amused grin on his face. He leaned over, nudging Kallias the chemist.

"Look at the Forge Master," Decimus chuckled, taking a gulp of ale. "It is the first time I have seen him outmaneuvered."

Kallias adjusted his spectacles, shaking his head. "You place two predators in the same enclosure, you cannot be surprised when they bare their teeth."

Lucius, deciding he had endured enough of the quiet hostilities, stood up from his chair.

He picked up his goblet and struck it twice with his knife.

"...."

"Magistrates, foremen, and soldiers of the Syndicate," Lucius projected.

He gestured to the far end of the courtyard, where a shape was currently hidden beneath a canvas tarp.

"Tonight, I present the first dividend of our new trade networks. A gift for the Director of the Shadows."

Lucius nodded to a pair of *Custodes* guards. They grabbed the ropes and yanked the canvas away.

A collective gasp ripped through the courtyard...

Standing in the flickering torchlight was a spectacular, custom-built carriage.

The body was constructed from dark mahogany, featuring enclosed glass windows... the very first flawless panes produced by the new kilns.

But the true marvel was underneath the chassis. The carriage rested on four curved steel leaf-springs, connected to specialized brass wheel-bearings.

Isolda’s breath hitched. She stared at the carriage, her hands instinctively moving to support her lower back.

She understood immediately what he had built...

He had engineered a vehicle specifically designed to absorb the brutal shocks of the Gallic roads, ensuring she could travel in painless comfort.

She walked around the table, approaching the carriage with wonder in her eyes.

When she finally turned back to look at Lucius, her eyes were shining with affection. She closed the distance between them, ignoring the staring magistrates, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a fierce kiss to his lips.

"It is magnificent, Lucius!" Isolda whispered against his mouth.

Lucius smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist. "It will make the journey to the coastal drydocks much more tolerable for you."

As the crowd erupted into cheers and applause for the Forge Master’s newest invention, Valeria remained seated at the high table.

She wasn’t jealous of the carriage; she was envious of the profound connection that existed between the warlord and his Gothic queen.

Hours later, as the banquet began to wind down and the magistrates staggered back to their villas, Valeria slipped away from the noise, retreating to the quiet shadows of the upper balconies.

She leaned against the balustrade, looking out over the sleeping city.

Lucius stepped onto the balcony, holding two goblets of watered wine. He handed one to Valeria, leaning his forearms against the stone beside her.

"You look troubled, Valeria," Lucius observed quietly, looking out at the city lights.

Valeria took a slow sip of the wine, staring down into the dark liquid. She finally gathered the courage to ask the question that had been haunting her since Isolda had cornered her in the guest chamber.

"Is it true?" Valeria asked.

Lucius knew exactly what she was asking.

"That I intend to rewrite the marital laws of the Syndicate to secure a political alliance with your father?" Lucius clarified. "Yes. It is the most efficient way to neutralize the southern fleets without a prolonged naval war."

Valeria’s hands gripped the balustrade tightly. "And do you feel anything for me, Lucius? Or am I simply a tool to be traded for warships?"

Lucius turned his head, looking at her with a honesty.

"I respect your intellect, Valeria," Lucius answered. "I find your mind fascinating, and your courage to flee Massilia was remarkable. But I will not lie to you. Isolda was bleeding for this revolution when I was nothing more than an exiled outcast in the mud. She will always be my primary focus."

He reached out, placing his hand over hers on the stone.

"If you agree to this alliance, I promise you will have authority, wealth, and the freedom to apply your mind to the greatest expansion in history."

Valeria looked down at his hand.

He hadn’t lied to her. He hadn’t manipulated her with false promises of overwhelming love...

He had offered her exactly what she had always wanted but it came with a condition.

She let out a long breath. "If I am to stand beside you... I will earn my place. I will prove my value."

Lucius smiled. He squeezed her hand. "I expect nothing less from you, Valeria." Lucius murmured.