Page 16 of Cleopatra

The governors partook of my hospitality until dawn. When the feast ended, my brother and I walked through the hall arm in arm, the servants following in a procession. The beaded tails stitched onto the backs of their skirts twirled as they walked. They howled and raised their hands to the sky as I had instructed them to. I should have been proud of the sight, but I felt as though the glittering eyes behind the copper masks judged me harshly. I could not pick out Charmion among the twisting limbs.

Theos leaned heavily against my shoulder. It had been a long night for both of us.

“Stop here a moment, brother,” I said as we drew level with the Governor of Thebes.

At my indication, three labourers brought in a crate of wine, still in clay pots. They set them at the governor’s feet.

“Pharaoh?” he asked.

“This is the last of your wine from the palace storeroom. I expect your taxes to be adjusted accordingly. And, Governor: stabilise your city. If I hear of another increase in taxes, I will personally see that you are removed from your position.”

I tugged on my brother’s arm to guide him on. Though the governor’s shocked expression was satisfying, I had exerted all my courage and felt my knees begin to falter. It was time for bed.

“Pharaoh, that was ill-advised,” Pothinus whispered to my left. “You have made an enemy here tonight.”

“I will not stand for corruption, Pothinus. Egypt is my country to rule.”

The lyre player caught my gaze on my way out of the door, and I saw her eyes shimmer with tears.

“I may have made an enemy, but I have also gained more allies. The story will spread tonight, and the other governors whose taxes have been lacking will rectify the issue—lest they suffer the same embarrassment. A success, I think.”

I did not wait for the eunuch to reply before turning towards the sleeping quarters of the palace.

The servants accompanied my brother and me all the way to the doors of our chambers. Before dismissing them, I said, “Thank you for your service tonight. As a boon for all you have given to me and my father before me, keep the masks as a token of my gratitude.”

There were gasps. The copper and lapis were enough for each of them to live comfortably for a few years at least.

“Tonight, I wished to honour my father. But I am not him. I do not wish for the pageantry of this evening to be repeated. Honour and dignity can be held in both hands.”

Oh, so righteous I was back then. In the years to follow, I came to recognise that spectacle was political. It became a tool in a chest of few tricks that I could rely upon. But I wasn’t always that way. That is why I preserve my original intentions here, noble as they were.

I bade goodnight to my brother before entering my bedchamber.

“That was well done,” Charmion said, following me in.

I embraced her. “I know who I want to be now.”

“And who is that?”

“Not my father’s daughter. But me. Cleopatra,” I said. “Though Pothinus will think me half-witted when he wakes to find the servants have fled.”

“I do not think they will leave. You have earned their loyalty.”

The next day I would discover she was right. Many of the servants who’d received bounty that day stayed for the entirety of my reign. Some even refused to leave when Octavian ransacked the palace. They died along with me. Loyalty is a revered virtue of the dead.

“They’ll tell stories of you in years to come,” Charmion continued.

Centuries. Millennia.

“I hope so.”

I did not understand what it was I wished for. I hoped to become a legend, but I forgot what all stories must have: a monster.

I could not have known that monster would be me.

Chapter Four

49 BCE