Page 150 of Cleopatra

“We will fight for our city and our country,” she said.

I looked into her eyes. “And our children.”

We walked together back to my chambers.

“If anything should happen—” I began.

“Please do not—”

“No, listen.” I stopped her before we walked into the palace. “If anything should happen, I need you to use the tunnels in my room and escape with the children. Use the boat we have down there and flee.”

“I would never leave you.”

“You must.” I raised my voice so she might hear the desperation in it. “I need your word, Charmion. Please, give me this gift.”

Her features twisted with grief. “But where will we go?”

“Anywhere,” I said fiercely. “Anywhere but here. Raise them as commoners, away from the poison of the courts. You must hide them from Octavian, for he will never let them live.”

“You are acting as though this is a certainty.”

“I hope not. I hope that the legions we raise in Cyrene will be enough to win this war.”

“Then we shall hope, and not speak on this again,” she said.

“Not until you promise me, Charmion. Promise me you will do this.”

She met my gaze and nodded once. “I will do as you say.”

Breathing more easily, I continued on into the palace.

Caesarion had started the war council without me, and I watched proudly as he strategised with the leaders there. He was patient and respectful of their experience, recommending tactics he had learned from studying.

You were always destined to be a better leader than either of your parents, my son. It pains me that history will never see the ruler you were to become.

—

We prepared the city for war once more. Days passed and there was no word from Antonius, nor sight of Octavian’s army.

The city was tightly coiled with apprehension. I spent most of my time in the temple praying before my god, leaving Caesarion to manage the country’s affairs.

It was where Charmion found me.

“Cleopatra.” Her voice was full of fear.

I rose from the altar. “What has happened?”

“Look to the sea.”

I went to the temple’s steps and looked north. A fleet of at least five hundred ships floated on the horizon.

“Could it be Antonius?” she asked.

“Marcus is marching from Cyrene by land; this is Octavian’s fleet.”

“But we do not have the means to defeat him without Antonius’s army,” Charmion said, her voice high with panic.

I felt the dread that had built in me over the last few seasons dissipate in one single breath.