Page 33 of Cleopatra

The boat was a lavish expense, embellished with gold furnishings and granite statues of the gods. My father had taught me how important it was to represent the gods in all their splendour. And since I did not have a divine gift upon which to rely, I compensated with materialistic things.

My wardrobe was vast, each dress beaded with lapis and turquoise, the hems trimmed with gold.

Today I wore a woollen shawl around my neck, dyed green, the colour of a peacock’s plume. The Isis mark on my neck had been painted with gold leaf to draw the eye and to remind my citizens of my patron. My arms and wrists were adorned with heavy jewels and my eyes lined with kohl. In my hair I wore my gilded vulture crown, its wings draped down on either side of my face, the head rearing upwards from my brow, poised as if the bird were soaring among the clouds, waiting for the death of the creature that would become its next meal.

My footsteps had taken me to the stern of the boat, where I leaned over the ebony railing to look out on the Nile.

Reeds lined the fertile soil of the riverbank, the distinctive sunburst head of the papyrus plant swaying in the light breeze. Ducks dived in the shallow waters, hunting for insects and other small prey.

I cast my gaze to the east, where agricultural villages, built from the same clay as the banks of the river, dotted the landscape. To the west, tombs adorned the horizon, for like the setting sun, it was where the kings and queens of the past were laid to rest. Their impressive pyramids from millennia past were resplendent against the sky. Tombs so large that they touched the gods themselves.

I shivered, imagining my body buried beneath the weight of so many stones. Death was not a concept I pondered often. Life was, after all, just a precursor to the great beyond. But looking out at the pyramids, I felt the significance of my life diminish in their shadow.

What mark will I leave upon the skin of my land? Will I scar it? Or embellish it?

We rounded a bend in the river and I had my answer. The flax fields on both banks were sun-blistered and starved of water where the Nile had receded.

The drought was still plaguing my reign.

Egypt must live. Always.

My father’s words haunted me. They haunt me still.

Caw-waw, caw-waw.

Arsinoe came up behind me and draped herself over the railing. Qar perched on her shoulder, his talons digging into her skin, but she seemed unaware of the blood his claws had drawn. “The captain said we will arrive in Hermonthis before sunset.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank the gods.” The royal formalwear was growing burdensome and I wished to be rid of it by the night’s end.

Arsinoe was similarly dressed, though she wore no crown, just a simple circlet adorned with an ankh. She seemed more at ease than I in the heavy material of her gowns.

“Are you not fatigued by your attire?” I asked, curious.

She looked up at me, surprised. “I am the Pharaoh’s sister; it is an honour to dress as such for the people of Egypt.”

“Imagine if we had arrived by rowing boat in simple linen cloth and no jewels. Would they have bowed to our authority?”

It was true that every stop we had made on the voyage to Hermonthis had been successful. The dissent brewing in Alexandria was yet to poison all my citizens against me.

But I was not ignorant enough to feel entirely secure in my reign. Worry soured my belly.

“You act like being Pharaoh is a burden, not a gift,” Arsinoe said quietly.

I thought on her words before I answered. “If it felt like a gift then I would never truly be in service to the people of Egypt. With a burden, I must work hard to alleviate the strain.”

Qar chittered into the silence. I wondered what he had said, but Arsinoe’s next words gave me an intimation. “Do you think Berenice thought of it as a burden?”

I tried not to sound affronted. “She was never Pharaoh.”

“No, I suppose not. Father killed her before then.”

I did not like to hear Father’s name spoken with scorn. He might not have gone down in history as a very great ruler—then again, neither would I—but few could judge a pharaoh. The role was unlike any other. To be god and ruler both was a unique hardship. “Do not blame him for his actions, he did what he had to. Your pain will only taint your memory of him.”

“You think I hold Berenice’s death against him?” she said. “No, if anything I believe he should have eliminated the threat earlier.”

I swallowed my shock. “That is a cruel thing to say.”

“Strength can often be mistaken for cruelty.”