Rome, 58 AD.

The dinner party didn't turn out the way Aemilius Valerius expected. He didn't expect a place at the main table. He didn't expect to drink that much. He didn't expect to hook up with one of the scarier dancers. And he most certainly didn't expect to trip over the bloody corpse of his host on the floor of the informal dining room.

One man's grisly murder is another man's opportunity. Valerius teams up with the investigator, a plebeian with a chip on his shoulder, to discover the killer. Mad Uncle Maro promised it would be a smart career move, but that was before a second senator turned up dead. Now everything points towards a corrupt legion, an imperial assassin, and the emperor's mother. It might have been smarter to accept that honorary priesthood, stupid hat or not.