Setting up dining halls for the workers was not particularly difficult. It took relatively little time to purchase buildings adjacent to the existing offices and workshops, or to retrofit entire floors for the purpose.
New cooks were hired and gathered at Caesar's estate to undergo intensive training under Apicius, the head cook.
The standards Lucius demanded of them were quite rigorous. They had to maintain strict cleanliness in the dining halls every single day and undergo a mandatory hygiene inspection every five days.
"If the food is meant for ordinary workers, surely bread and garum would suffice?"
"Exactly. Why go through the trouble of preparing such complicated dishes...?"
"If that were the case, I wouldn't need any of you, would I?"
Lucius's response immediately silenced the cooks.
Once the preparations were complete and the dining halls opened, the employees welcomed the change with open arms.
"Finally, we don't have to eat moray eel anymore."
"But what in the world is this? It looks strange."
"Are we not supposed to eat this by hand?"
After washing their hands with Palmolive, the employees took plates and joined the line.
Some dishes were familiar, like roasted chickpeas, but others were unfamiliar—like meat and vegetables placed between two round pieces of bread.
"What is this?"
"It says here... pasta?"
"Dough... you mean it's made from wheat flour?"
The word pasta came from a Greek word meaning 'dough.'
It was no surprise that the workers thought the name sounded odd.
"I suppose it is somewhat similar to laganon."
At first, most employees were hesitant to try the bizarrely shaped food.
The fork was unfamiliar to them as well.
"This thing is awkward. I prefer eating with my hands."
However, as word spread that Lucius Caesar himself had invented the dishes, more and more employees began giving the dishes a try.
"This is actually much better than I expected."
"I had no idea dough could be made into something like this."
"Hey, you! Do not push ahead!"
Yet, as the new dishes grew more popular, the cooks faced an unexpected dilemma.
Learning the new recipes was one thing, but they now had to figure out what to do with the massive surplus of expensive moray eels and raw oysters they had already stored up.
"Can't we just sell them at the market?"
"We would have to sell them for far less."
"In that case, why don't we alter the recipes a bit?"
Finally, they came up with a new solution: using the oysters and moray eels in the new dishes.
"This tastes excellent."
"The employees seem to love it, too. Should we keep making it?"
"But did Caesar not invent these new foods so we would no longer have to serve moray eels and oysters?"
"Well, we can keep it as an occasional special dish. We serve plenty of other dishes now anyway."
"Fair point."
As the offices and workshops buzzed with excitement over the new dining halls and dishes, a certain guest appeared.
It was none other than Lucius Julius Caesar himself, the inventor of pasta.
***
"We will bring your meal to you, sir! Please, take a seat and rest."
"I have two legs of my own, thank you."
With that, I grabbed a plate and joined the line. The employees stared at me in shock, then hurriedly returned to the line with their plates.
The dining hall bustled with workers' chatter. It had been a while since I had experienced a place this lively. Lately, I had had few chances to speak directly with the staff.
I took a modest portion of pasta, vegetables, and grilled fish, then took an empty seat. The awkwardness of my arrival quickly faded.
"Is it true you invented this dish?"
"Did you receive a divine revelation about this, just like with Palmolive?"
As the nearby employees bombarded me with questions, I found myself answering before I could even take my first bite.
I suppose claiming divine inspiration for Palmolive was a mistake. How many times had I been asked this question since then?
Well, technically, I hadn't been the one to start that rumor in the first place.
"If I had received a divine revelation about this food, which deity do you think sent it to me?"
"Would it not be Ceres, the goddess of agriculture and grain?"
"No, any food prepared at the hearth or in an oven falls under the domain of the goddess Vesta."
"Caesar is of the Julian gens, is he not? Then it must be the goddess Venus."
"I heard that shaping these wheat noodles requires a specialized machine. Perhaps it was the goddess Minerva, since she oversees crafts and technology."
"How about Vulcanus?"
My single question was enough to launch the employees into a heated debate. Listening to their earnest discussion, I couldn't help but chuckle.
The Roman perspective on religion differed vastly from that of monotheistic faiths like Christianity, Judaism, and Islam.
To a Roman, correct ritual practice was far more important than individual belief.
The gods were powerful beings who governed specific domains of the world.
One had to offer them proper rites to secure their favor. In essence, for the Romans, religion was a civic duty necessary to preserve order between the gods, the city, and the community.
"Then perhaps Ceres, Minerva, and Vesta joined forces?"
"Then let us offer a portion of this pasta to the three goddesses."
I chuckled as I watched the employees respectfully set a small portion aside on a separate plate. Well, at least they came to an agreement.
Speaking of gods... I really wanted to ask the woman who had sent me into this world.
Why had she sent me to Rome in this era? What exactly had she wanted from me?
While the employees continued their lively conversation, I looked out the window.
The sky, as always, offered no answer.
"No one looks after us the way you do, Caesar."
"Seriously, what other workers would ever complain about eating too many expensive moray eels?"
As everyone burst into laughter, I gave a light shrug.
"If anything troubles you in the future, just tell me directly. One 'Moray Eel Rebellion' is more than enough."
And I meant it.
***
Felix approached just as I finished my meal and whispered to me.
I was washing my hands with water and Palmolive at the time.
"Your father has sent a messenger, Young Master. He wishes you to come to the Regia as quickly as possible."
"Father summoned me?"
Was there something urgent we needed to discuss?
As I stood up from my seat, Felix whispered again.
"Cicero has paid Master Caesar an unexpected visit."
"Cicero."
Cicero—the guardian of the Roman Republic, the embodiment of peace, order, and compromise. And now Cicero had come to visit my father, the incoming consul.
Could it be...
Had he come to propose an alliance?
"This might actually be a good thing."
"A good thing?"
"A table with four legs stands steadier than one with only three, would you not agree?"
Pompey, Crassus, and Caesar.
If Cicero were to join them, the balance of power in Rome could shift entirely.
I left a bewildered Felix behind and quickened my pace.
It was time to head to the Regia.
***
"You know well that many senators are deeply concerned about the changes you and Lucius have been pushing forward, Caesar."
"Concerned? About what, exactly?" Caesar asked with a genial smile.
He stood with Cicero in one of the corridors of the Regia.
The walls of the corridor were adorned with magnificent frescoes, though some of the older paintings had faded significantly over time.
"You and Lucius are attempting to bind Rome's countless collegia into a single structure, and you are even seeking to alter the temple rites themselves." Cicero said with a heavy sigh. "The more you stir up the citizens and shake the foundations of the state, the more senators will view you with deep suspicion."
Instead of answering, Caesar reached out and lightly traced the faded fresco on the wall.
The worn painting depicted Romulus, the founder of Rome, and his twin brother Remus being suckled by the she-wolf.
"The priests who serve under me tell me that the painting has faded so badly that parts of it are nearly unrecognizable, and that a new fresco must be commissioned. But there is a dilemma," Caesar said. "I cannot decide whether we should use the same colors as the original, or whether we should use newer, more vibrant pigments."
"We must restore the original colors. Its meaning lies in preserving it exactly as we remember it, does it not?"
"Is that how you see it, Senator?" Caesar looked at Cicero and smiled. "I believe that if we can restore it with colors more vibrant and magnificent than before, it would be no poor choice. The citizens would certainly welcome it."
"..."
Cicero remained silent for a moment before letting out a sigh.
Gaius Julius Caesar was always like this. A man possessing an irresistible charm. Caesar had an uncanny ability to turn even his most bitter enemies into his allies almost before they realized it.
"We cannot hand the Republic over to the mob. Rome is not Athens." Cicero said. "The Senate has guided Rome for centuries, confronting and defeating countless enemies. And we shall continue to do so."
"Did you think I would deny that?"
Another long silence stretched between them.
"Everything you and Lucius have done so far has greatly benefited Rome and her citizens. Countless people have found work, and the roads of Italy are safe once more. The bankers, and those who entrusted their money to them, owe you both a tremendous debt."
Cicero spoke with sincerity, but he also knew that the more glory a single house amassed, the more precarious the Republic became.
"In Rome, heroes rarely live long. And recently, you have been planning something new involving the temples and collegia." Cicero's brow furrowed. "The public rites dedicated to the gods are the very foundation holding this Republic together. Shaking that foundation will incur the wrath of the Senate, and Rome will be thrown into turmoil."
"It does not seem you came here merely to debate the nature of the Roman state, Senator." Caesar turned his head and fixed his sharp gaze on Cicero. "Nor does it seem you came merely to deliver a warning."
"Of course not. I came to offer you my cooperation."
"Your cooperation?"
This time, Caesar let out a dry chuckle.
"Are you saying you intend to support my consulship?"
"I know that no warning I give today will change your mind." Cicero nodded, his expression grim and resolute. "In that case, I, too, must make a choice to protect the Republic. In my own way."
"Meaning...?"
"Help me become your enemy."
"..."
Caesar frowned slightly for the briefest moment, but his usual sly smile soon resurfaced.
"Now that is certainly an unexpected proposal."