The Ides of March

Gaius Julius Caesar, Dictator of Rome

You have conquered Gaul, crossed the Rubicon, defeated Pompey, and been declared dictator for life. You are, by any measure, the most powerful man in the known world. But power has made you enemies. The old Republican senators whisper of tyranny. Your closest allies jockey for position. Last night, your wife Calpurnia woke screaming from a dream of your murder. This morning, a soothsayer you met weeks ago repeated his warning about the Ides of March. You have received anonymous notes warning of danger. And yet — the Senate expects you. Legislation awaits. Your planned campaign against Parthia requires Senate approval. To stay home because of dreams and omens would make you look weak, superstitious, a shadow of the general who once faced down the Gauls.

Rome at the height of its Republican power, now straining under the weight of one man's ambition. Julius Caesar has been declared Dictator Perpetuo — dictator for life — and the Senate seethes. The city is a labyrinth of marble temples, crowded insulae, and political intrigue. On this morning, the Ides of March, the Senate meets in the Theatre of Pompey because the Curia is under renovation. The streets buzz with the energy of a festival day, vendors and citizens unaware that history pivots on what happens in the next few hours.