Page 119 of Cleopatra

“Dance with me,” he said suddenly.

“Dance? I am no harlot.”

“Have you ever tried?”

“I am a pharaoh—we do not entertain, we are the entertained.”

Antonius stood and held a hand out to me. “It is simple enough.”

“Marcus, I cannot. The entirety of my court is here, it would not be becoming.” I still cared how I was perceived, but Antonius would soon come to rinse that from me.

He began to turn, moving his hips in time with the music. I was shocked at such a wanton display.

“Come now, Pharaoh, you cannot leave a triumvir of Rome to dance alone,” he called to me. “I insist upon it.”

“Your terms for our deal have changed?” I asked.

“Yes—consider this part of the dinner.”

The game continued.

I stood and went to him, letting him touch my waist as we moved to the music. Without my mask he could see my face, and his gaze did not stray from it.

“One more night,” he said. “I will stay one more night.”

Did he feel my muscles relax? Did he sense my relief at knowing I would have another day in his company?

“Mama.” I turned at my son’s call. “What are you doing, Mama?”

Caesarion’s little face frowned up at us and I pushed Antonius away.

“Dancing,” Antonius answered.

“Is that something they do in Rome?” he asked. My stomach twisted at his ignorance. He knew so little of his Roman heritage.

“No, it is not. I was just trying something different,” I said gently. Caesarion copied Antonius’s movement, jerking his little hips back and forth.

Antonius didn’t mock his efforts, instead he encouraged them, and soon it was Caesarion and he who had taken to the dance floor in front of me.

I watched them laughing and my heart, which had for so long been closed to love, opened a little more.

“Mama, Antonius says he is staying another day. Can we take him hunting with us tomorrow?”

Every waxing moon we would go hunting, a tradition of my father’s that I had continued. It had been Arsinoe who had enjoyed the outings, and excelled at them, and in this way I secretly honoured the sister whose death I had ordered.

“Sometimes we go fishing, sometimes fowling or boar hunting. Mama says these are skills I must learn as Pharaoh. I am not very good at it, but Mama says that she wasn’t good at it either and we must practise to be worthy—”

“Caesarion, pause for breath, my son,” I chastised him, and he dipped his head in acquiescence.

Antonius watched me as he replied. “Hunting? That sounds like a very enjoyable way to spend the day. Then perhaps your mother will dine with me again tomorrow evening.”

I gestured around us. “Did I not already satisfy my side of the bargain?”

He grew serious. “I am yet to be satisfied.”

“Two thousand gallons of wine in the streets and a feast to feed three thousand. That is not enough for you?”

“It is but one dinner. And I never specified how many.”