“I nominate Gaius Sapphirus Tiberius.”
A whoop of excitement came from someone up high.
“Sit down,” Grandfather ordered.
“My grandfather is the eldest of the Sapphirus house in all of Rome,” I called clearly and loudly, letting my voice carry to all. “He is a direct descendant of the forefathers who founded the senate. And if we are to be honest, he is the most deserving of this seat purely on his ancestry.”
“Hear, hear!” Shouts of agreement went up.
I raised my palm again.
“However, none of those are the true reasons he deserves the seat of consul.”
Grandfather had quieted but I felt his keen gaze on me as I continued.
“Gaius Tiberius has a long record of voting for and supporting the people of Rome—those we are sworn to protect and hold dear in our honorable positions as lawmakers and law keepers of this great city and empire.”
A chorus of cheers went up, but I held up a palm to quiet them.
“No man here can point to a moment where he did not truly vote his conscience. He always has, no matter if it were the popular decision or not. And no one can point to one moment that he has swayed the vote because someone else has lined his pockets with gold.”
A round of hisses and a few chuckles of laughter followed, several senators’ heads turned toward Quintus. It was well-known that Valerius often used bribery—both giving and receiving—to get votes to go his way. And Quintus was the one who typically handled the exchanges.
“Rome needs a leader who thinks ofherfirst. Someone who will not allow corruption to taint this sacred house. Someone whose own blood ancestors built this place stone by stone and law by law.” Locking gazes from one powerful senator to another, I finally added, “We need Gaius Tiberius, a noble consul, to lead our empire into a golden age of Rome.”
The house erupted in cheers, most of them standing and applauding, shouting their support. It took Kato several minutes, banging the gavel, before the shouts died down to a dull murmur.
“Are there any more nominations?” he asked in his gravelly timbre.
I smiled as I took my seat, knowing no one could follow me.
“All in favor of Quintus Mentius as our new consul, say aye.”
Leto and a few others, including most of the Ignis magistrates who were avid devotees to Caesar, shouted, “Aye!”
Kato’s serpentine gaze swept the room. “And all of those in favor of Gaius Tiberius, say aye.”
Three-fourths of the senate house rose to their feet with a booming “Aye!”
Many repeated “Aye” several times before Kato began banging the dragon head yet again, waving his hand for everyone to sit.
“It is decided,” said Kato. “Gaius Tiberius is Rome’s new consul and will take his seat.” He gestured to the empty throne next to him.
The roar of cheers continued as my grandfather stood and embraced me. “What have you done, my boy?”
“What we need.” As the cheers continued, I whispered into his ear, “Now we have a vital key in place for when we turn the lock.” I pulled back, holding his shoulders. “For when the time comes.”
The lines of his regal face were drawn tight, his eyes grave. We had discussed this before, but Grandfather had never wanted the seat of consul or any higher-ranking magistrate, knowing he’d be forced to work closely with Caesar. That he’d be coerced to follow Caesar’s wishes in order to keep his head off the Wall of Traitors.
I’d always argued that we needed our people in positions of power before we took the final steps of our plan. Toppling Rome was one thing. Rebuilding it was another entirely.
“It’s time,” I assured him, squeezing his shoulder. “It is now, Grandfather.”
He clamped his jaw and nodded. I could barely remember him agreeing with anything I said or did. He was always the one doing the guiding. Ever since my parents died.
“You’re right,” he murmured before walking past me to the roar and cheers of the senate house.
I knew I was right. I applauded with everyone else as he strode with his head high toward the empty consul seat, raising his hands for the audience to quiet down.
