Reborn In 3rd Century Rome with Future Industry

February 18, 221 AD, Massilia, Gallia Narbonensis.

While Lucius and Isolda were preparing to plunge the Mediterranean into a new era of naval warfare, the daughter of the most powerful man in southern Gaul was hiding in the palace gardens of Massilia.

Valeria sat on a bench beneath the shade of a fig tree, oblivious to the fact that her betrothed had arrived in the city.

For the entirety of her nineteen years, Valeria had been treated as the crown jewel of Governor Gratus’s political treasury. She was intelligent, possessed an appetite for Greek mathematics, and had the kind of beauty that started minor wars in the Senate.

Yet, to her father, she was nothing more than a bargaining chip. She had never been allowed to leave the palace, forced to experience the world through the scrolls in her father’s library.

Her only companion in this prison was a peacock she had named Argus.

Valeria smiled, a rare expression of warmth, as she tossed a handful of dried dates onto the grass. The peacock strutted forward, its neck catching the sun as it pecked at the treats.

"Eat up, Argus," Valeria murmured, leaning forward to smooth the bird’s crown feathers. "You are the only male in this province who listens to me without calculating my dowry. I swear by Minerva, if my father tries to finalize this marriage to the Claudian house, I will steal one of his galleys and sail to Carthage."

The peacock let out a squawk, as if agreeing with her plan.

However, before Valeria could offer the bird another date, footsteps crunched on the gravel path. Argus whipped his head around, puffing his chest out as a man rounded the hedge.

It was Senator Claudius, Valeria’s fiancé.

The Senator had traveled from the capital to finalize the marriage contract, and he looked miserable in the southern heat.

He was a man in his forties, carrying an excess of weight around his midsection. He was drenched in perfumed rose oil, wearing a toga that looked formal for a garden stroll.

The moment Valeria laid eyes on him, the smile vanished from her face, replaced by a mask of indifference.

Claudius forced a smile, raising his hands in greeting. "Ah, the radiant Valeria! The poets in Rome did not exaggerate. Your father told me I would find you here. The sea air does wonders for your complexion, my dear. I must admit, I wish I possessed such flawless skin."

Before Claudius could take another step toward the bench, Argus intervened.

The peacock let out a screech and fanned his tail feathers, creating a wall of hundreds of staring "eyes" in the Senator’s path.

Claudius yelped, stumbling backward and nearly tripping over the hem of his toga.

"Gods below! Call off this fowl!"

Valeria did not attempt to hide her disgust. She rose from the bench, brushing dust from her *stola*.

"Come, Argus," Valeria commanded.

The peacock collapsed its tail, shooting a glare at the Senator before trotting after his mistress.

Valeria turned her back on Claudius and walked toward the palace, not offering the man a word of greeting.

Left alone on the path, Claudius sneered, wiping the sweat from his brow with a cloth.

He glared at the figure of his future bride and muttered under his breath.

"If Roman law permitted a man to legally marry a shipping ledger, I would never have to deal with these arrogant, over-educated girls. The moment the dowry transfers, she is staying locked in a villa in Campania."

Valeria sprinted up the staircases of the palace, retreating into the sanctuary of her library.

Argus strutted in behind her before she slammed the doors shut, throwing the bolt into place.

The peacock hopped up onto a table, tilting its head as Valeria paced across the floor.

She grabbed a scroll on Aristotelian logic and hurled it across the room in a display of frustration.

"Am I to be sold to a sweaty, perfumed pig?" Valeria screamed into the room, her chest heaving.

"Am I supposed to spend the rest of my life hosting dinner parties for corrupt Senators while my brain turns to dust?"

She dropped into a chair, burying her face in her hands. The cage had never felt so small.

A knock on the door startled her.

"Lady Valeria?" a voice called out. "I saw you storming out of the gardens like an angry goddess. Are you quite alright in there?"

Valeria paused, recognizing the voice.

It was Demetrios, the Greek shipping magnate. He was a guest at the palace, and one of the few men who treated her intellect with respect, often smuggling philosophical texts from Athens into her library.

Wiping the frustration from her eyes, she stood up and slid the bolt back, pulling the door open.

Demetrios stood in the hallway, holding a satchel.

He took a look at her face and sighed. "I take it you have finally met the esteemed Senator Claudius?"

"Come in, Demetrios," Valeria muttered, turning her back and walking toward the window.

The merchant slipped inside, closing the door behind him. He took a seat opposite her table, offering a smile. "Your father is a man of traditional Roman politics, Valeria. To him, an alliance with the Claudian house ensures his fleets are protected by the Senate."

Valeria scoffed, leaning against the windowsill. "I do not care. Demetrios, I want to ask you about something else entirely."

Demetrios raised a brow. "I am at your disposal, my lady."

Valeria stepped closer, lowering her voice as a spark of curiosity lit up her eyes. "A few days ago, I was in the olive grove. I heard your conversation with my father. I want you to tell me everything you know about this man in the north. The one they call the Forge Master. Lucius Cassius."

Demetrios stiffened, the smile dropping from his face. He glanced at the doors.

"Valeria, where did you hear that name?"

"I told you, I was in the gardens," Valeria pressed, stepping up to the table. "You said he annihilated a legion. You said he has taken a province hostage and is tearing the empire down. What is he really like?"

The Greek magnate let out an exhale, rubbing his chin.

He had not expected the Governor’s daughter to possess interest in a northern warlord.

"Lucius Cassius is... a terrifying contradiction," Demetrios began, choosing his words with caution. "He is a patrician by birth, but he views the Roman elite with contempt. He possesses a mind that borders on the divine. I have watched him utilize weapons that turn the greatest legionaries on earth into ash in a matter of seconds."

Valeria’s breath hitched. "He is a tyrant, then?"

"That is the contradiction," Demetrios replied, leaning forward. "To the Senate, he is a monster. But if you walk the streets of his capital, the commoners worship him. He abolished slavery in his lands. He pays laborers in silver. He has built insulated tenements with running water for the lowest plebeians. He is cruel to those who oppose him, yet protective of those who serve his Forge. I believe he will conquer this empire, assuming the assassins in Rome do not find a way to poison him first."

Hearing a man like Demetrios speak of the Forge Master with awe sent a thrill down Valeria’s spine.

The image of Lucius Cassius solidified in her mind... a rogue genius, a conqueror wielding fire and iron, a man tearing down the world she hated.

A blush rose in her cheeks as she looked away.

"Is he... is he handsome?" she blurted out, hating herself for sounding like a superficial girl.

Demetrios blinked, caught off guard by the question.

He barked a laugh. "He is a Roman aristocrat, Valeria. Yes, he is striking. But his hands are stained with coal grease. He does not possess the charm of your Senator Claudius."

That was exactly what Valeria wanted to hear...

The idea of a conqueror who despised the Senate was intoxicating.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. She took a breath, asking the one question that held the hope of her future.

"Is he married?"

Demetrios stared at her for a moment. He was a worldly man, and he understood the infatuation blooming in the young woman’s mind. He felt a pang of pity, but he knew he had to crush the fantasy before it got her killed.

"Valeria," Demetrios said. "Do not let your mind wander down that path. Not only is Lucius Cassius married, but his wife is a Gothic princess named Isolda. She is the shadow to his fire, a woman who orchestrates the assassinations of entire noble houses without blinking. She is currently pregnant with his heir, and he would burn the world to ash to protect her."

Valeria felt the floor drop out from beneath her.

"Even if your father agreed to ally with a rebel," Demetrios continued, "Lucius would never break his vow to the Goth. And you are too proud to be a secondary concubine to a barbarian queen. You must accept your reality, my lady. The Senator is waiting for you."

The weight of her destiny settled back over Valeria’s shoulders. She nodded, her eyes lifeless.

"Thank you, Demetrios," Valeria whispered, her voice cracking. "Please... leave me."

The Greek merchant offered a bow and exited the library.

Alone once more, Valeria sank into her chair.

Argus the peacock hopped onto her lap, nuzzling its head against her arm, but she barely felt it.

She buried her face in the silk of her dress, weeping for a future that belonged to a woman she had never met, in an empire she would never see...

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