Chapter Twelve #2
I have told you what began between us was friendship, but that does not mean that passion did not quickly grow.
I found that in these quiet moments there was a sweetness to Caesar.
Like a sun-ripened melon, he would peel back the toughened shell of his outer layer, revealing a man generous with his affections.
“It feels wrong to enjoy these nights with you, when my people are out there dying.”
He bowed his head. “We acknowledge their sacrifice, but we must not succumb to melancholy. They fight so we can live.”
His words unsettled me and I moved my hand from under his to pick at the bread on my plate.
“Come now, soldiers must die for a war to be won,” Caesar said.
He had mistaken my discomfort. “I am used to people dying for me.”
When I was five years old, my father had sacrificed three men to Isis. The ceremony had been held in my name, and though I’d barely been old enough to understand it, I’d been forced to wash my hands in their blood.
“Then what troubles you?”
“No matter who wins, we all lose. The ships we burn tonight are my people’s ships.”
“Traitors, all of them.”
I considered. “Yes, but also no. They still follow the Ptolemy blood, just the wrong Ptolemy.”
“The wrong Ptolemy, indeed.”
“If we win this battle, I will need to offer mercy, or I will have no subjects left in Alexandria.”
“They will not be loyal.”
“I do not need loyalty, I need obedience.”
Caesar laughed at that. “You are right. Let the loyalty come later, for few people could deny you their devotion after being in your presence.”
His compliments were never overwrought or effusive, but they struck me like a sudden rain shower, pebbling my skin and sending shivers down my neck.
Your historians were right about his natural charm. He was eloquent yet spoke pensively so that you knew every word had been considered—and meant wholeheartedly.
I was wary of being ensnared by his charisma.
Caesar’s honeyed tongue had touched the lips of many men and women.
I’d heard the court whisper about his adultery that he was “every woman’s man, and every man’s woman.
” The Queen and King of Mauretania were among his many lovers, and it was clear he had no qualms about intertwining political and sexual relations.
But I was not prepared to jeopardise our alliance—and the armies he had called on.
I changed the subject quickly. “I was going through the grain store list with Faunus and I think we need to ask for more supplies from Syria, lest our soldiers starve.”
“I have requested a convoy already.”
I was taken aback. “Why did you not tell me of this?”
He reached for his wine, swirling it in his mouth before he swallowed. “It is of no consequence.”
“We are partners in this war. Do not treat me as lesser.”
“Cleopatra,” he said, searching my face for the smile I would not give him. “It was a simple supply request. I do not and could not ever think of you as lesser.”
“Where is the supply list?”
“I will have it sent to you on the morrow.”
“Thank you—and in the future, keep me abreast of all details.”
He watched me with something akin to pride in his eyes. “I will.” Then his lips twitched. “Shall I also inform you when I use the latrine?”
I was about to reply that should he need guidance with that, I would be willing to send Ptolemy to teach him when something caught my eye. I went to the window.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Look, there is a glow running across the land.”
Then I smelled it. Ash and smoke.
“It is the fire, our operation must have been a success. The Alexandrian fleet is destroyed,” Caesar said, joining me.
I shook my head and pointed. “It comes from the east. The fire has spread to the city.”
“What buildings of import lie in the east?” he asked.
The wind quickly became thick with smoke and it stung my eyes, merging with the tears there.
I choked on my next words. “The library.”
—
Caesar was exasperated. “You cannot travel to the mainland. You will be spotted.”
“No, I have done it more than once, in a guise. I often go to heal people.”
He looked shocked. “I think I know all the parts of you, yet you still manage to surprise me.”
“No one can know all of a person.”
“Perhaps not, but either way, you are not going.”
I scoffed. “I am.”
He reached for my waist, holding me fixed with little pressure. But he needed none, his mere touch was enough to still me.
“This is different. The city is a war zone.”
“I will be careful.”
“No, you cannot go.”
“Who are you to tell a pharaoh what to do?” My tone was cutting, knife-sharp.
“Cleopatra,” he said, softly. Like a plea.
But I had made my mind up.
“I will go with you,” he said, seeing the resolution in my face.
“No,” I said firmly. “You are too recognisable.”
“I will dress as an Egyptian. Bring me clothes, I can hide my features.”
I tried to imagine him in the simple cloth of a farmer and laughed again. Distress had unravelled some of my tightly coiled tension.
“This is not the time for mirth,” he said, his expression distraught. I reached up to smooth the lines of his brow.
“You are to stay here, dear Julius. I will be safe on my own.”
He leaned into my touch. “You will not take Charmion?”
“Of course I will. Even when I am alone, I am with her. I have told you before, she is my companion in all things.”
He looked conflicted. “Is she trained to use a spear?”
“We will be fine. This is my city. I know its very bones.”
“Do you have to go?”
“Yes, I need to see that the library still stands. But I will come back.”
“You must, for there are many more topics I would like to discuss with you.” His gaze grew intense. “And many more things I should like to do.”
I stepped towards him and pressed my hand to his chest. He seemed to welcome the touch, drawing in a ragged breath.
“A worthy reason to return,” I said.
He encased my hand in his. “Come back to me.”
“I will.”