Chapter Fourteen
looked up at Faunus, my administrator, who had entered the throne room and said something I didn’t quite catch about Caesar.
The old man puckered the symbol on his forehead as he frowned, clearly distraught.
I watched as the kohl drawing of the lotus flower encircled by a snake drew upwards—a tribute to the legend of Iphis, a woman blessed by Isis to live the life of a man.
Like Iphis, Faunus wore his rebirth proudly.
“Julius is where?” I was lounging on the couch that I had brought in to replace my chair in the throne room. My hands rested on my swollen belly, feeling the kicks of my child beneath my palms.
“Pharaoh, Caesar is missing, presumed dead,” he whispered, but it sounded as loud as a battle horn to my ears.
“No.” I would know if he had been ripped from the fabric of this world. I would have felt the tearing of the threads. Wouldn’t I?
“He accompanied a small fleet to greet the reinforcements from Syria, but the rebellion army ambushed him. They outnumbered the few archers he had on board, killing them swiftly. The ship he was travelling on was sunk.”
“No,” I said again.
“He—”
“Have you seen his body?”
Faunus shook his head.
“Then he lives.”
“Pharaoh.” Faunus’s voice cracked. The old man had been brought in by Caesar to help manage the affairs once assigned to Pothinus. He had proved an invaluable advisor and become a trusted confidant in court. “It is unlikely he will have survived.”
I held out my hand. “Charmion.” She was there to help me stand.
My legs did not shake, though I felt as if every step I took, the world around me spun.
I cradled my stomach. “My child will come to know their father,” I vowed. “Send out a search party to circle the harbour.”
“I have,” he said weakly. “I return now from their counsel. There is no sight nor sign of Caesar.”
I shook my head, my hand tightening across my belly. “No. I do not believe it.”
I was still walking, but I wasn’t sure where.
Faunus called after me. “We need to send missives to Rome…”
I ignored him, my footsteps taking me out of the throne room, out of the palace altogether.
I didn’t cry—it wasn’t shock, I just truly did not believe Caesar to be dead. He could not leave this life before meeting his child. Our child.
The sun was setting across the horizon, its rays seeping like honey into the ocean waves. I could see the navy out in the distance. Our fleet had grown considerably, outnumbering Arsinoe and Theos’s army.
“We are so close,” I whispered to the sea. “We are so close to the end.”
The baby in my belly twisted, pushing bile up my throat. I coughed against the burning pain of it while also relishing the feeling of the babe’s strength.
“Your father will be here soon,” I said.
Though Isis had yet to bestow power on me, in moments like these I was comforted that she watched over me.
I stayed there all evening, watching ship after ship leave and return without Caesar on board.
“Come back to the palace,” Charmion said.
The sea lapped at my toes but I had stopped feeling them half a day ago. “No.”
“You must at least sit, this is not good for the baby.”
I let Charmion call for a chair. It was my throne they brought, its gilded seat cool and familiar.
And that is where I sat, on the edge of the shoreline, a queen looking for her king.
Charmion had brought me food at sunset but I couldn’t eat.
“You must not forget the babe—they need sustenance.”
“I could not forget my child,” I snapped back. “Do you think there is a moment that I am unaware of their presence? Their weight presses upon me. Their legs thrust against my spine. Even now, in this stillness, I feel them urging my skin to pull apart.”
Charmion flinched. It was so rare that I turned my ire on her. But I was avoiding the feelings that crept in like the tide. It was easier to be angry than sad. “I did not mean to presume—”
“You did exactly that, you presumed. I would like to remind you that you do not know all my thoughts and feelings.” My temper should have subdued her. But Charmion was not like anyone else.
She stood in front of me, filling my vision. Few would risk the wrath of a pharaoh. As I have told you before, I did not hesitate to wield my executioner’s blade. And certainly, my ancestors’ hands were rarely clean of blood.
“Move out of the way,” I said.
“No.”
My guards stood behind me and I glanced at them.
Charmion raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to do? Have them bind me in chains? Or go straight for the throat?”
My hand went to my own neck where the ivory blade still lay. Charmion flinched as my hand went to her cheek. But I did not strike her. My fingers trailed the puckered scar that adorned her face.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice catching. “I would never…I could never—”
“I know.” She leaned into my touch and let out a ragged breath.
“I feel lost without him,” I admitted.
“I will not let you lose yourself. Not today, not tomorrow.” She pressed her three fingers to her lips.
Charmion was always the best of women. And the best of men.
She stayed with me until the moon hung in the sky. She held me when the last ship came back without Caesar.
“We need to send out another search party,” I mumbled. My lips were chapped from the sea winds.
Charmion relayed my request. I sensed my court were wary of coming too close to me.
I must have cut a tragic sight. My throne had sunk into the wet sand, so that I slouched to the left.
My discarded food and drink sat around me.
The cloak I wore was parted in the middle to release the tension around my stomach.
I knew my eyes would have turned red from the stinging breeze.
“They can’t, not tonight,” Charmion said upon her return. “It’s too dark. It will have to wait until morning.”
“No, they must—”
Shouting interrupted my pleas.
“The east,” Charmion said, identifying where the guards were calling from.
I was up and running faster than anyone would have thought possible. I ran as though I were a lion freed from a cage.
Four soldiers stood in a rocky alcove. Two were crouched low, peering into the shallows. One of them pointed as I reached them. “Pharaoh, someone approaches.”
It took me a moment to notice the shape beneath the waters. A shadow—too large to be a fish—carved through the waves.
My stomach lurched and the babe fluttered within. “Theos?” For who else could part the waves so gracefully?
But it wasn’t my brother. The curls matted to the swimmer’s head were streaked with silver moonlight.
“Julius!”
He crawled onto the rocks, his chest heaving. In his hands he held a scroll, the details of which were entirely sodden.
I ran to his side. “I knew you were not dead. I knew it.”
He smiled faintly as he collapsed backwards onto the beach. He thrust the wet scroll towards me.
“What is this?” I asked.
“The details of the convoys. I knew you’d be vexed with me if I didn’t save it.”
I laughed, then I cried, my cheek pressing against his drenched clothing.
—
I refused to let Caesar return to the frontline for three days. In that time we discussed what Egypt would look like once Theos and Arsinoe were dispatched.
“Half of your courtiers are ready to return to your court; they have become disillusioned by the rebellion,” Caesar said. “But Cleopatra, your reputation remains damaged.”
I scoffed. “I do not care.” I was nearing the final moon cycle of pregnancy, and I had little tolerance for almost anything. We lay in the royal baths, the steam that curled around us scented with cinnamon.[*]
“You must care if you wish to reclaim the entirety of your court.”
I trailed my fingers through the water. “Must I? I have survived thus far without them.”
Caesar reached for my idle hand. “That is because I am here. Without the support of Rome, your court would have very few people left. And you need the nobility to stabilise the trade networks.”
I pulled my hand from his grip. “Do not try to school me in matters I know far more about than you. Egypt is my country.”
Caesar’s patience was unmatched and he nodded, sealing his mouth.
The water parted around my swollen belly as the babe kicked violently. It brought a smile to my lips, easing the irritation I felt. “What do you suggest?” I asked Caesar.
“Reign with your youngest brother, Ptolemy. He is young enough to be pliable in all things. By ruling in tandem, you will increase your support from those who believe you unfit to rule but maintain loyalty for those who know your true value.”
I laughed—a little scornfully, I’ll admit. “Unfit?”
Caesar’s gaze was serious. “Some believe you are not blessed by your god, Isis. Then there are those who believe you are blessed, but by the wrong god.”
“And having Ptolemy rule with me will end that?” I said doubtfully.
“Ptolemy’s power is proven—”
“As is mine,” I said quickly. I thought I had now convinced everyone, including myself, that my affinity for healing was god-given.
He inclined his head. “Proven was the wrong word. Ptolemy’s power is more…tangible. The court has seen it at work when he predicted the death of Ganymedes.”
I shivered. My brother’s ability to foretell the day someone was going to die had always unsettled me.
“I do not need a man by my side to rule.”
Caesar wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me towards him. “Not even me?”
“You rule your own land. Rome,” I said. He shifted away from me.
It had been easy to pretend the world beyond Egypt’s borders did not exist. But now, with the war coming to an end, we both had to face stark truths about our future.
“What will become of us when you return home?” I asked quietly.
Caesar looked at me from across the bath, his breath parting the steam. “I do not need to return to Rome so soon. I will wait for our babe to join us in this life.”
I nodded, but I felt a deep sadness.
Seeing my expression, Caesar was beside me once again. He pressed his lips to my hair and murmured, “You are my wife in all ways. Tied to me with bindings stronger than any law.”