Page 107 of Cleopatra

Sometime between cutting down my lions and Ptolemy’s death I had begun to use cruelty as a tool—and remorse became more fleeting.

Charmion looked troubled but did not contradict me further, and I was glad of it. I would not have liked to turn my ire on her.

That evening Faunus returned to me in the dining hall, his expression grave.

“His family are gone, my queen, his estate empty.”

I set down my cup, filled with sweetened water only, and kneaded my brow. “You found nothing?”

He hesitated, then reached into his robes and removed a scroll, which he set before me.

My eyes scanned the letter. It was only a few words long, outlining the location of Cassius’s and Brutus’s army. That alone was not damning enough.

But then I saw the words that ended the letter.

By order of Queen Arsinoe…

I felt no triumph in having my suspicions confirmed. I only felt the fool for loosening the leash around Serapion’s neck longer than I should have.

I held the scroll for longer than the words warranted, as eventually Charmion asked impatiently, “What is it?”

I handed her the scroll. “My sister rises once more.”

“I have sent word to my contacts in Ephesus,” Faunus said. “But it does appear she is once again laying claim to your throne.”

I thought of the meal we’d had on the royal barge all those years ago. She and Serapion had been engaged in discussion for most of the night.

What had she said to bind him to her so tightly? What was it about her that secured such absolute loyalty?

She has always been a bird in flight, soaring above the wingless, I conceded. Even now I aspired to be near her, to feel the wind lift me to her heights.

I laughed. Despite everything, I had grudging respect for her determination. “Only death will defeat her.”

Faunus nodded. “What will you have me do?”

I had many more warships in my fleet that I could have sent to support Antonius’s plight. But I had not forgotten how easily the nobility had abandoned me in the siege of Alexandria and I feared sending any more to sea, lest they flee to Arsinoe’s side like Serapion.

“Nothing. We do nothing.”

“But Antonius—”

I thought of how he had left me and Caesarion by aiding the false heir, Octavian, and I cut Faunus off. “I care not for him.”

Oh, how that would change.

—

Antonius and Octavian were victorious later that year. Cassius and Brutus had been slaughtered, along with Serapion. Any arrangements the conspirators had made with Arsinoe were lost in their defeat.

The night after I received word, I woke up drenched in sweat, my eyes stinging, my mind haunted by the remnants of a nightmare: Cassius and Brutus had captured Caesar’s soul in the afterlife, binding him to a cage in the field of reeds. I could look upon the scene but not infiltrate it, no matter how much I screamed or beat at my chest.

My throat was raw, a great heaviness in my lungs.

“Cleo?” Charmion said drowsily.

“I am fine, sleep now.”

She nodded and pulled Caesarion tighter into her embrace. Since Caesar’s death we had all shared a bed, a routine I was loath to change. Usually it kept my terrors at bay, but not this night.