The news that only two candidates were running for the consulship instantly became the hottest topic of conversation among the citizens of Rome.

"It’s a bit of a shame, really. A contested election usually means more scraps and bribes for ordinary citizens like us."

"Hasn’t Caesar already given us enough? He literally pledged his own fortune to back the banks and guarantee our deposits."

"True. Thanks to him, we can finally deposit our coins without losing sleep over them."

"Speaking of Caesar, I heard his son is marrying Pompey’s daughter soon. That’ll bind those two families even tighter."

The marriage between Lucius and Pompeia also drew massive public interest.

But it wasn’t just the citizens who were deeply invested in the event.

"They’re giving us a paid holiday? Seriously?"

"Don’t get your hopes up yet. It’s just a rumor for now."

But it wasn’t a rumor.

The vast majority of the employees working under Lucius Caesar, including the staff at the Strategic Office, were officially granted leave.

Departments that required round-the-clock operations, like the insurance division, arranged rotating shifts, but every single employee was guaranteed time off.

And it didn’t stop there.

When the announcement dropped that employees would receive guaranteed days of ’annual leave’ from then on, the workers erupted into deafening cheers.

"Still, isn’t it better to just show up to work and get paid rather than sit at home?"

"Haven’t you heard? They announced that our wages won’t be docked for the days we take off."

"We get paid even when we don’t work? It’s incredible for us, obviously, but isn’t Caesar taking a massive financial hit?"

"That’s what I’m saying. He treats us so well it actually makes me worry for him."

"Don’t you get it? Caesar doesn’t run his businesses to line his own pockets. He runs them for the sake of the Roman citizens like us."

Meanwhile, this unprecedented announcement sent the rest of the Roman business owners into a blind panic.

"First he gives his workers ’labor shares’, and now paid holidays?! Paying men for not working?!"

"It’s a blatant scheme to bleed the rest of us!"

Workshop owners, shopkeepers, and merchant guild leaders were on the verge of tears.

The best workers were already scrambling to secure jobs under Caesar.

That made the rest of the market fight over whatever talent was left.

And even when they did hire someone and spend time and coin training them, the moment the worker became skilled enough, he would jump ship for Caesar’s enterprises.

"If we hire capable men and train them, they just run straight to Caesar. We’re basically spending our own money to train his workforce!"

"At this rate, we’re better off just buying slaves and making them do everything."

But there was a catch. Businesses that relied entirely on slave labor struggled to gain traction in the market.

Roman citizens preferred to buy from businesses that employed free citizens—especially if their own family or friends worked there.

Furthermore, no matter how highly trained a slave was, their productivity and initiative rarely matched those of free citizens working for wages.

Ultimately, the other business owners had no choice but to begin offering better benefits to their own workers.

"We might not be able to match Lucius exactly, but we have to at least pretend we’re offering similar perks."

"Yeah. If we want to stop our workers from deserting us, we don’t have a choice."

Even though the Senate and the People’s Assembly hadn’t passed a single labor law, working conditions across Rome were undeniably improving rapidly.

Amidst this sweeping social change, the eyes of the city naturally turned toward the couple at the center of it all.

Lucius and Pompeia.

What monumental shifts would their union bring next?

***

The fragrance of marjoram and verbena tickled my nose.

Pompeia wore a vibrant, flame-colored veil over her hair.

She wore a pristine white bridal tunica beneath a saffron-yellow cloak.

A delicate floral crown woven from fresh marjoram and verbena rested atop her veil.

She was the first to break the heavy silence.

This certainly took long enough."

"It really did. But we’re finally here."

I nodded in agreement.

The two of us stood together in the center of the atrium, surrounded by our families.

My mother, Julia, Pompey, and a throng of relatives from both sides stood by, maintaining a solemn silence.

Felix was also there, standing among the guests with his wife, Tilia.

In the midst of the heavy atmosphere, my father stepped forward.

He wasn’t wearing his usual senatorial toga, but the sacred vestments of the priesthood.

He had stubbornly insisted on personally taking the auspices for our wedding.

In a traditional Roman wedding, an animal was sacrificed, and priests divined the omens from its entrails.

Only if the omens were favorable could the marriage be officially recognized.

If the signs were bad, it meant the gods had not given their blessing, and the wedding would be canceled.

Of course, such cancellations were quite rare.

And it wasn’t like my father was going to sabotage his own son’s wedding.

In the dead silence, my father, standing before us, gestured to Felix.

Felix signaled back, and the household servants brought forward a young ram.

The sacrificial ritual itself didn’t take long.

The unfortunate ram was dispatched quickly and painlessly.

My father, with practiced precision, sliced open the belly and began examining the entrails.

"I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this."

Reading the flight of birds was one thing, but digging through a bloody pile of guts with his bare hands was undeniably gruesome to watch.

After thoroughly inspecting the entrails, my father washed his blood-soaked hands in a basin filled with water and Palmolive.

There wasn’t much left to do now.

Once he declared the omens favorable, we would be...

Wait. Something was wrong.

My father stood completely silent with a stiff expression.

He looked at the two of us and frowned deeply.

Don’t tell me he’s actually going to declare a bad omen.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, my father finally broke the silence.

"I have received a deeply concerning result."

I wasn’t the only one who drew a sharp breath.

Pompeia, Pompey, my mother—everyone in the atrium held their breath at the same time.

After a pause that felt like an eternity...

My father offered a teasing smile.

"The omens are so overwhelmingly favorable, I’m genuinely concerned."

"Gaius! Are you seriously playing a joke at your own son’s wedding?!"

As my mother reprimanded him, my father let out a booming laugh.

"They say the gods are prone to jealousy when a mortal is blessed with too much good fortune."

A massive, collective sigh of relief echoed through the room.

Note to self: Never put Father in charge of important family ceremonies again.

My father waved his hands over us, his tone shifting back to solemn reverence.

"The Great Gods have bestowed their absolute blessing upon this union. May prosperity and happiness follow you all your days."

Pompeia and I turned to look at each other.

There was only one final, traditional vow left to recite.

"Where you are Gaius, I am Gaia."

"Where you are Gaia, I am Gaius."

The moment the vows were spoken, the atrium erupted into cheers.

"Feliciter! (Good fortune to you!)"

Amidst the shower of congratulations, Pompeia walked over to her father.

Embracing Pompey tightly, she exchanged a long look with him before turning back to me.

I took a deep breath.

Alright, I guess it’s my turn.

Approaching them, I grasped Pompeia’s hand and pulled her toward me.

It was a symbolic ritual, a nod to the ancient founding of Rome when the first Romans ’abducted’ the Sabine women to be their wives.

As Pompeia stepped toward me, Pompey leaned in and whispered with a smile.

"I know better than anyone that you aren’t the kind of man to mistreat her, Lucius. But if you ever make my daughter cry, I will personally see to it that you regret it."

"Then who do I go to when she makes me cry?"

"You can come to me then, too. Now that I’m your father-in-law, I’m more than happy to have a few drinks with you and tell you all my daughter’s secrets."

"Father."

At Pompeia’s warning tone, Pompey cleared his throat.

"I wish you the best of luck, Lucius."

Still holding Pompeia’s hand, I led her out of the estate.

All that was left was to head to our new home and enjoy the wedding banquet with our guests.

As we stepped out into the street, I saw the hired flute players waiting for us.

But they weren’t the ones who caught me off guard.

"What in the..."

From the front gates all the way down the road, the street was lined with people.

And I recognized every single one of them.

They were my employees—the very same people who had emptied their own pockets and thrown their coins into my father’s wagons just weeks ago.

They stood shoulder-to-shoulder on both sides of the street, beaming with joyous smiles.

"Feliciter!"

They cheered at the top of their lungs, tossing handfuls of walnuts into the air.

The sharp, rhythmic clatter of walnuts bouncing off the cobblestones filled the street.

"It seems they came to celebrate our wedding," Pompeia whispered beside me.

"Don’t tell me you ordered them to be here?"

"I keep telling you, Pompeia, I’m not that bad of an employer."

Though, I couldn’t blame her for being suspicious.

If you gave employees a paid day off, how many of them would voluntarily show up to their boss’s wedding?

With the flute players leading the way, we walked down the street together.

Hearing the commotion, ordinary citizens peeked out of their windows and gathered on the corners, looking on with curious faces.

"It feels like our own little triumph."

"Honestly, I like this triumph far more than a real one."

I gestured for Felix to come closer.

"Felix, could you run ahead and make sure we have extra food and wine prepared?"

"That won’t be a problem, young master, but we already prepared a substantial surplus."

"But that was only meant to feed our invited guests."

I looked around at the cheering crowd lining the streets.

These were the people who had given me their support when I needed it most.

They were practically family to me now.

"We need to feed them, too."

"I understand."

Felix nodded, a bright smile spreading across his face.

"I can assure you, this is going to be a truly magnificent banquet."

***

The lavish banquet lasted long into the evening.

As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the guests offered their final congratulations and departed for their homes.

By then, the only people left in the sprawling estate were Pompeia and me, our newly hired household staff, and Felix and his wife.

"I hear the employees are calling their new paid holiday ’Pompeia’s Day’," Felix remarked.

"Pompeia’s Day?"

Felix nodded at my question.

"Yes. They mean it as the holiday Lady Pompeia earned for them."

"Well, they aren’t wrong."

Pompeia was the one who initially suggested granting a holiday to celebrate our wedding.

Though I was the one who formalized the concept of paid annual leave.

In the 21st century, paid vacation was considered a basic labor right.

But historically, the concept of weekends and paid holidays was a remarkably recent invention.

One of the first modern forms of paid leave was introduced in France in the 1850s, and it didn’t become widespread standard practice until the 1930s.

In this era of Rome, the very concept was practically alien.

"Thanks to this, the other business owners in Rome are losing their minds. We have even more people begging for jobs at our enterprises now."

"I didn’t think it was possible for us to receive even more applications."

"Neither did I, young master."

"I had actually been considering a mandatory day off every ten days as well, but..."

Implementing a regular ’weekend’ system was definitely something worth considering.

But then again, the Roman calendar was already packed with so many religious festivals and public holidays that people arguably had enough days off.

Besides, the other merchants still needed to survive.

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn, young master, but aren’t you taking on too much of a financial burden?"

"A burden?"

"Paying men for days they don’t even work. While it undoubtedly secures the loyalty of the citizens, the financial loss to you seems far too severe."

"Then why don’t you volunteer to work on your holidays, Felix?"

"I already work through my holidays, young master."

Felix let out a weary sigh.

"Regardless, my point is..."

"I know exactly what you’re trying to say, Felix. But this isn’t simply a financial loss for us."

"What do you mean?"

"When employees get paid time off, they gain something incredibly valuable: time to spend their money. Travel, lodging, dining out, theater, other entertainment—it all becomes part of the market."

I leaned forward.

"We can create an entirely new, massive market for them—one that has never existed in Rome before."

"So you’re saying... you’re paying them so they can turn around and spend that money back on our businesses?"

"I prefer to say I’m giving them more choices. My employees are Roman citizens too, after all."

More importantly, it was also for my own sanity.

Rome in this era had no television, no internet, no movies, and no video games.

Entertainment here mostly meant theatrical plays, musical performances, pantomimes, and books.

And even those offered agonizingly little variety.

If the consumer base expanded with disposable income and free time, the entertainment market would naturally grow alongside it.

As I was lost in thought, three women approached me.

They were all close friends of Pompeia.

"It is time, Caesar."

"Understood. Lead the way."

I followed them out of the atrium.

Behind me, Felix waved and called out.

"Feliciter! I will see you tomorrow morning, young master!"

I offered a slight nod and followed the women down the hall.

We arrived at the bedchamber.

Pompeia was already sitting on the edge of the bed.

The women gestured toward me with faint, teasing smiles.

"Now you may begin."

I let out a heavy sigh and sat down next to Pompeia.

"Do we really have to do this?"

"It is a sacred ritual, after all."

Under the expectant gazes of Pompeia’s friends, I reached out.

My hands hovered over her palla—her outer cloak—before moving to the elaborate knot at her waist.

I would never understand why Romans enjoyed this particular tradition.

The bride’s friends literally followed the groom into the bedchamber and stood there watching to make sure the knot was properly untied.

When I hesitated, Pompeia’s friends urged me on.

"Please hurry, Caesar. We can’t stand here all night waiting."

"As you wish."

While the women watched with bated breath, I carefully unraveled the knot binding Pompeia’s waist.

The moment it came loose, the women erupted into a chorus of giggles and quickly blew out the candles in the room.

"We will take our leave now. Have a wonderful night, you two."

The women slipped out of the bedchamber, and finally, the two of us were completely alone.

The sun had long since set, leaving the room shrouded in darkness.

The sprawling estate, which had been roaring with noise and laughter just hours ago, was now completely silent.

"If you aren’t ready yet, Pompeia, we can simply hold each other and sleep tonight."

That was as far as I got.

Before I could even register what was happening, Pompeia climbed into my lap, straddling my waist.

"There is only so long you can keep a woman waiting, Lucius."

Pompeia leaned down, her voice dropping into a playful whisper against my ear.

"Are you ready?"

"And if I say no, will you stop?"

"I’ll take it into consideration."

The two of us burst into laughter at the same time.

Up until now, I had always thought of Pompeia as a serious, fiercely driven woman.

But right now, alone with me in the dark, she was slowly letting her guard down and revealing a different side of herself.

In that moment, I realized something.

Across both of my lives, I had never truly fallen in love until now.

"Well, then, I suppose I have no choice but to surrender to you."