Page 56 of Cleopatra

“This is what I mean! You treat me like a child. I understand political nuance.”

He pouted, and I regarded him dispassionately. “I had hoped to give you a few more years of childhood before burdening you with the rule of the lands.”

“You never asked.”

“You never asked.” I realised the conversation had devolved somewhat, but I met him at his intellectual level.

He didn’t reply.

“Come,” I said, gesturing to the overflowing platters of food. “Sit, let us enjoy each other’s company as brother and sister. We can discuss the terms of our rule once we have sated our hunger.”

He looked to the entranceway, and I wondered if he waited for Pothinus. But the eunuch would never walk these halls again, if Caesar had met my terms.

Theos lowered himself into the chair opposite me and I held out a plate of honeyed bread. At first, he looked as if he might refuse the gesture, but the glistening syrup won him over and he reached for the platter.

That was the moment that Arsinoe walked in.

The shock on her face was fleeting, but it was there. Her calculating gaze flickered around the room, taking in the Roman guards, Theos and me.

I offered her the same plate my brother had taken from. “Sister, would you care for some bread?”

She smiled, enhancing the delicate beauty that I had always been jealous of. I noticed that our time on the Nile had brought out the warmth in her dark skin. “Of course, sister.”

Neither of us acknowledged her part in the rebellion.

The younger Ptolemy joined shortly thereafter.

“You’re back from Hermonthis,” he said when he saw me. And I realised not only did he not sense the tension in the room, but he also had no idea about the plot to overthrow me.

“I am,” I said with an indulgent grin.

He nodded once and climbed into the seat next to me.

Caesar took his time arriving, and I was nearly at the end of my patience by the time he walked into the room. He admitted to me later that his tardiness had been intentional, in order to build a sense of trepidation. “I find people more malleable when they are nervous,” he said against my neck. We were in bed, our limbs entangled, our sweat cooling on each other’s skin.

“It is good you do not make me nervous, then,” I said.

He lowered his chin to just below my bare breast. “Your heart would disagree.”

But let me not skip through the seasons.

“A family reunion,” Caesar said as he entered, his hands clasped behind his broad back. Caesar wasn’t arrogant in the way of most men in power I had met. He wore his authority quietly, with a confidence that made you feel like he saw you in your entirety.

I gestured to the chair to my right. “It is good that you have joined us.”

Caesar met my gaze as he sat. “It is my pleasure to be in the company of the whole Ptolemy family. Could you pass me the palm wine? I find I’ve a taste for it.”

That brought a smile to my lips. I flicked a wrist towards a servant, who moved forward to serve Caesar. When his cup was full, he tipped it in my direction.

“To the Queen’s health.”

The youngest Ptolemy, blind to the complexities of the politics at play, raised his cup to join the tribute. Caesar turned to Theos, waiting for him to do the same.

My brother looked troubled but he raised his shaking chalice.

Arsinoe spluttered in disbelief. “Theos, what is going on?”

Theos didn’t meet her eyes so it was Caesar who responded. “We are honouring the great Cleopatra Thea Philopator, born of Isis. Seventh of her name. And your pharaoh.”