Page 133 of Cleopatra

“They are. Helios kept asking if he might row the ship,” she said, laughing.

I had asked Charmion once why she had not had children of her own. “Ahmose and I spoke on it once and had imagined their faces,” she had said, her voice ragged with an old grief. “I do not wish to replace those images with others.”

“You do not need to replace them,” I had said gently. “For you are already a mother.” And I had pointed to my children.

I held her close that night, her head resting on my chest. I knew she dreamed of Ahmose, for she woke crying.

Some loves are enough to last a lifetime. I was lucky to have had two.

“If the children slumber, then I shall go to shore,” I said.

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll be wanting your old linens, then? It is good I packed them,” she said, pulling out the threadbare clothing that allowed me to blend in as a commoner.

I smiled. “I fear it will be the last time I will don them.”

“Indeed?” she said lightly.

“I go to end my alliance with Rome.”

“Why?”

“I can no longer abide Octavian’s slights against Caesarion. My son grows older by the day and has yet to set foot on his father’s land since his death.”

Charmion regarded me, her eyes narrowing. “Now tell me the true reason.”

I sighed, annoyed that Charmion could see into my depths as through water in a bowl. “That is not untrue. But I suppose the heart of it is different: I can no longer abide Antonius’s slights against me.”

“I heard Octavia is pregnant again.”

“Yes, though that is not what vexes me. It has been three years and he has not returned to me once.”

“Nor have you gone to him,” Charmion pointed out.

“Am I not here now?” I snapped.

She nodded.

I prompted her. “Then what is it?”

“The love you have for Antonius is rare. If it has dimmed, I understand your choice. But if it still burns bright, do not be fearful to face the fire. It is better to be warmed by love, no matter how distant, than to stand alone.” She turned away.

I held out a hand to her. “You never stand alone, Charmion. And neither will I.” I kissed where sadness creased her brow.

I changed into Selene the healer’s clothes and crossed the plank that rested on the pier. The harbour was still lively despite the time of night, and as I moved through the streets, I quickly learned why.

“Twenty thousand gallons of wine fill the streets every seventh day,” a voice intoned. “And when the sun rises, they say the palace shines so brightly from the gold inlaid in its walls that only those of divine blood can look upon it. Who is it that I speak of?”

What a thing it is to hear your name chanted by a crowd.

The hakawati continued, “She raises lions from cubs to eat at her table, and when a courtier displeases her, she flicks a golden rod and the lions tear the throats from their necks. Who is it that I speak of?”

“Cleopatra!” they called again.

“Four siblings gone. Berenice, the first for the throne, cut down. Next was her brother, a young boy drowned. Then she took Arsinoe, who wished to be crowned. Poison it was, for the last to die. Now just one, when once there were five.”