The Temple of Venus Genetrix

December 45 BC, The Temple of Venus Genetrix

Gaius Julius Caesar sits on his seat in the temple he had built last year, awaiting the senators said to be coming. He lifts his head up towards the statue of the goddess Venus, the goddess that birthed their founder, Aeneas of Troy, who in turn had birthed his ancestor, Iulus.

Did she watch over them still, as she did her son?

The goddess’s expression is carefully drawn blank, eyes cast down. In her left hand Venus holds Discordia’s golden apple gingerly, and Caesar wonders what would have happened if Paris hadn’t given the apple to her. What would Juno, or even Minerva have done?

But that all didn’t matter right now, since the senators have arrived. They come before him in an orderly fashion. Caesar can feel the judging eyes on him as he not stands but sits still in his chair. Caesar laughs as they come forward.

“My dear friends,” he holds his arms out to embrace them, but no one comes forward. Caesar’s forehead wrinkles a little, but he tries not to let his discomfort show. “Why so stiff and serious? There’s no need to be stuffy; we’ve all known each other for a long time now, haven’t we?”

Only the consul Lucius Cornelius Balbus meets his gaze. “We are here on behalf of Rome herself, and we come today to represent the Senate and reward your deeds with great honors that were deemed fit.” He hands over a scroll listing the rewards to Caesar. They were prizes fit for royalty.

What was this? Is this a trap? A bait for me to accidentally show any trace of me after a crown even when I’m not? “This is a great honor indeed, yet some may deem it fit solely for royalty,” Caesar replies, letting his smile grow as he speaks. He has to keep up the charismatic persona.  “Do know that I do not want to turn down whatever the Senate has offered me, yet keep in mind that nor would I dare think it worthy of me to claim it as my own. Perhaps the Senate should cut back on their rewards. Rome, after all, is a republic, not a kingdom.”

Caesar laughs to clear up the solemn atmosphere, and a few senators chuckle lightly. It is ridiculous, truly, but still so many live in fear of power. He does not move from his seat to stand. He knows he should—it is basic etiquette, after all—but he does not. He will have to receive honors if he welcomes them.

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→ Part 3: The Roman Forum