Page 7 of Cleopatra

51 BCE

stalked past the stone sphinxes that flanked the entranceway to the palace. Basins filled with lotus flowers lined the hallway. The heat of the afternoon had turned their sweet scent sour, wilting and bruising their leaves.

From that day on, even the freshest of lotus flowers brought back that smell of decay, carrying my mind to this moment: legs slick with seawater, cold granite beneath my feet, the throne of Egypt ahead of me.

I left wet marks on the tiles as I made my way to the heart of the palace. I was careful not to slip. Pothinus would take advantage of any weakness to soil my reputation—a mere fall could burgeon into a rumour that I was born with a scorpion tail to bring poison to the heart of Egypt.

No, I would not let him tarnish my rule.

Father would not want that. At the thought of him, my steps faltered but I did not fall. Shock had not yet given way to the full extent of my grief.

There was a sound in the corridor ahead of me and I looked up to see an ibis in flight. Its white wings were tipped black as if it had flown through ink.

The ibis flew low enough that for a moment I thought it might strike me, its curved beak angled down as if to peck at my scalp. Ibis are not aggressive birds, but this one shrieked and cawed as it flew by.

A giggle fluttered through the corridor like the rustling of palm fronds.

“Arsinoe!” I called my younger sister’s name with mock annoyance.

For where Qar flew, Arsinoe was not far behind.

The ibis had come to her on her seventh birthday. Since then, she had become bonded with the creature as only one blessed by the god Thoth could. As the scribe of the gods, he had granted her the language of the birds.

I tried not to be jealous when I watched them, heads together. It was difficult, when once it had been my brow against hers as we spoke our secrets to each other.

It is not just sound, it is more than that, she said to me once when she caught me trying to parse Qar’s chitters. What more is it? I asked. But she only shrugged.

Arsinoe appeared at the end of the hallway. Though her laugh still lingered on her lips, I could see her eyes were red from crying. I opened my arms to her, and she ran to embrace me.

At fourteen, she was four years my junior, though she was taller than me by at least a palm’s width. She wore her curling hair in a twist at the side of her neck. The knot pressed into my throat as she held me.

We stood together for a little while before she said, “Where are your clothes?”

I released her. “Charmion has them. I swam from the lighthouse.”

“So you were at the lighthouse.”

“Did you tell Pothinus to find me there?”

Arsinoe tilted her head to the side. “Yes, he asked, and I thought you would want to know…about…” Her words stuttered to a stop and her eyes filled with tears.

“Where is he?”

“They have laid him out in Ihy’s temple.”

I had suspected that I would find him there. The temple would soon become his tomb. “Let us go together.”

I looped my arm in hers with the pretence that I was lending her strength. But the truth was, it was I who needed hers.

We walked through the palace gardens towards the necropolis where Ihy’s temple rose up from the earth. As we approached the entrance, something scuttled across my feet and I jumped back.

“Quell.” Arsinoe’s voice rang out loud and clear. The command was for Qar and the ibis was quick to carry it out. He swooped down, his long beak snapping the neck of the rat before dropping the carcass at Arsinoe’s feet.

She picked it up as if it were no more than a fallen leaf and threw the dead thing towards the sea.

I watched her casually dispose of the rodent and my stomach roiled. I would like to say that my father’s death made me more sensitive to the sight of a corpse, no matter how small, but the truth was death had always unnerved me.

I see the irony in that now.