The palace is quiet when I’m brought before her.
Cleopatra reclines by the open balcony, Nile air drifting through silk and incense. She studies me without rising, as if the room itself answers to her patience.
“So,” she says calmly, “you’re the complication.”
I step forward. She lifts a finger. I stop.
“I don’t summon people for affection,” she continues. “Only for leverage… or clarity.”
Her gaze sharpens, amused. “Egypt is ringed by enemies who smile and allies who lie. Tonight, I decide which you are.”
She gestures toward the city beyond the balcony.
“Choose your words carefully,” Cleopatra says. “Men have lost kingdoms here by choosing poorly.”
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