Calvinus looked upon the late Marcus Aurelius Calvinus Senior, his father. One last time. Garbed in his Senatorial toga, his two coins on his eyes for the passage to Pluto, the signature ring of the Patrician Aureli family clearly visible with one hand placed over the other.

Perhaps it was just the play of the last rays of the evening sun, but Calvinus thought he saw the hint of a wry smile on his father's face. Cynical to the very end.

Calvinus looked away. He was a stoic, he told himself. Or he tried to be one, sometimes. Was it his fault that he lacked the scruples to be a true Stoic? His father's fault, he told himself. Bad upbringing. Reckless politics. His lips querked.

Reckless politics, eh?