Page 116 of Cleopatra

“Come, then,” I said. “Let us find you some rooms.”

That evening, I hesitated on the threshold to the dining hall. I wore once again the sheath dress he had gifted me, though instead of the pearl wig, Charmion styled my natural hair in thick braids. The preparation had taken all day, heightening my anticipation for this very moment. But now I was here I could not bring myself to enter the room. Marcus was inside and I would be forced to fulfil my promise. The game would be won, and he would return to Rome.

Now I had him here, I wanted him to stay. It was no easy thing to admit. I had survived well on my own for so long. With Charmion, of course.

Resolving to keep the game alive, I entered the room.

Antonius looked up as I entered, a smile already on his lips.

“Pharaoh, you look—”

“In ten days,” I interrupted, “Egypt will celebrate Sōter’s passage to the afterlife. The Ptolemaia festivities are an evening worthy of your attendance.”

“We will not dine tonight?”

“No. Let me fulfil my promise in the way of a Ptolemy, with much splendour.”

“You entrap me here with pretty promises.”

It was true, but I denied it vehemently. “I only wish to seal our deal with an evening deserving of the great partnership between Rome and Egypt.”

“You will not sail away again?”

“Where would I go?”

“I have heard tales of your vast river. If you travel along it, I will follow you.”

There was no greater thrill than being hunted by Antonius. But he would come to know I was no prey.

“I will not sail away,” I promised.

“Ten days, then?”

“Ten days.”

Charmion was horrified when I relayed the plan to her.

“But the Ptolemaia is not until the full moon.”

“We will bring it forward,” I said.

I called Faunus to my rooms that night, and if I had thought Charmion was worried, I was ill-prepared for his reaction.

All blood drained from his face. “But Pharaoh, the preparations will take weeks—”

“Not weeks. Days. Ten of them.”

He looked as though he was going to protest further, but he must have seen the resolve in my face as his shoulders sagged in resignation. “We will do what we can.”

“Please,” I said. “Take as much gold as you need. Make this the best Ptolemaia the gods will have ever seen.”

I caught glances of Antonius over the coming days, but I was too busy with the preparations for the festival to have much time to spend with him. My servants reported that he spent his days walking through the many gardens of Antirhodos. So one evening I found myself there—only by happenstance, of course.

“Pharaoh.” Antonius started when he saw me.

I lay by the pond in the centre of the north gardens, watching him from beneath the palm fronds held above me by an attendant. My diaphanous silk robe was dyed in shades of green, making me one with the lush landscape. The quartz tiling glittered in the sunlight beneath me. I dangled one hand lazily upon a lotus flower, causing ripples along the still water.

“Marcus. You are enjoying the sights of my palace?”