I felt foolish and confused. “You’re a skilled ornatrix. Besides, I have money now. I’d help you.”
Chryssa seemed angry, or at least as angry as a slave ever allowed herself to seem. “Do you know how many barbarian slaves have been brought into the city? It would be cheaper to buy ten of them than to pay me a wage. I was once Chryssa, slave of the emperor’s wife. Then, Chryssa, slave of the Egyptian prince Helios. Now I’m Chryssa, slave of the Queen of Mauretania. If you set me free, I’m nobody at all.”
“That isn’t true. You’ll always be Chryssa, a child of Isis.”
My goddess opened her arms to slaves, and thus had many followers even where the conscript fathers had deemed hers a dangerous foreign cult. But Chryssa only said, “Without you here, Rome is no place for those who honor the goddess.”
I bit my lip, worried about what might happen to the worshippers of Isis in my absence. Until I could return Isis to the throne of Egypt, perhaps I could make a safe haven for her worshippers in Mauretania. I tried to offer Chryssa some comfort. “My new kingdom isn’t so far. With the right winds, Mauretania is just days away. I promise you can visit Rome—”
“No.” She glanced over her shoulder as if she could see Livia and Augustus and all the others who had tortured her. “I’ll never want to come back.”
FOR weeks now, I’d been consumed with the wedding and all that attended it. It was only now, in the quiet aftermath of the celebration, that my imminent departure became a painful reality. Knowing this to be my very last day in Rome, I ushered Philadelphus to the schoolroom. Because my littlest brother was far more prone to pranks and frivolity than a Ptolemy ought to be, I rummaged through the scroll-cases that lined the wall, searching for parchment and vellum works on history and mathematics that I thought it especially important he study. With a roll of his eyes, Philadelphus said, “You aren’t my tutor. Let’s not spoil our last hours together with serious things.”
I winced, knowing that he was no longer the baby brother who hid in my skirts. No longer the boy who cried with fear when the Romans took us prisoner, nor the boy who shook with sweat and fever. He was eleven years old now, as old as I’d been when I came to Rome. Even so, leaving him here as a hostage for my good behavior felt like the worst kind of betrayal and I hated myself for it even if I had no other choice. “Promise me that you’ll study hard to make yourself useful to the emperor, Philadelphus.”
“Oh, stop fretting,” Philadelphus said with a brave smile. “Come be a sister to me. We’ll play knucklebones until Juba returns.” Like my father, Philadelphus possessed an easygoing charm. With his thick auburn curls and aquiline nose, he looked every bit the Roman boy, and I hoped this would protect him when I was gone. I let his brave smile melt my resistance and followed him back to the bedchambers that he’d once shared with Helios. We sat together on his sleeping couch and the cat jumped up between us, watching my brother rattle the tali dice inside a wooden cup. “Are you going to take Bast with you, Selene?”
Reaching down to pet her soft fur, I remembered that our cat belonged more to Helios than to either of us. Maybe that’s why I so badly wanted to bring her to Africa with me. Now I pushed away that selfish urge. “She should stay with you and watch over you . . . You know that I don’t want to go without you, don’t you? I don’t want to leave you, Philadelphus!”
“But you must,” my brother said, fingering the Collar of Gold amulet at his throat. Like the jade frog I wore, it was the last thing my mother had ever given him. The moment she put it around his neck, he seemed to possess the gift of sight. “I’ve seen it in the Rivers of Time, Selene. You always leave and I always stay in Rome.”
Philadelphus’s hidden power was strong, but I refused to believe he saw truly. “You’re wrong. Someday, we’re both going back to Egypt.”
He smiled weakly, swirling the dice. “I think I’ve almost seen it that way once . . . Nothing in the future is certain but the more often I see something, the more likely it’s true. I’ve seen you become a great queen. You help to bring about a Golden Age. You feed the people and save Isis.”
I saw his eyes slide away. “Is that the only thing you’ve seen? Will I be forced to fight Helios?”
He shrugged, letting the dice fall to the mattress between us. All ones. The Vulture. The lowest throw. “I don’t know, but sometimes I’ve seen that you’re a cause of war in Egypt . . . and that your life ends too soon.”
We both shuddered and I scooped up the dice, putting them back in the cup and laying my hand over the top. “Don’t look into the Rivers of Time anymore, Philadelphus. You know how the Romans feel about magic. I won’t be here to protect you.”
“It’s not something I can control.” I knew what he meant, for my own powers—when I had them—were wild and beyond my grasp. Hieroglyphic messages from Isis carved themselves into my hands when I touched the blood of the faithful, but I hadn’t been able to control the winds that sometimes swirled when I was upset. I’d used them once, when Livia slapped me, to throw her to the ground, but since my bargain with the emperor, the winds had been still.
“Just be careful, then, Philadelphus. Write me letters. Lots of letters. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume the worst.” He must understand how fragile his safety was. As he grew older, he’d be seen as a danger—a son of Antony and Cleopatra for all the emperor’s enemies to exploit. “We’re the last of the Ptolemies. Do whatever you must to survive. If you ever need to betray me, I’ll never blame you for it. If I fall from the emperor’s favor and he asks you to condemn me, don’t hesitate!”
He jerked back as if I’d slapped him. “Selene, I would never betray you or condemn you. Just as I know that you’d never betray Helios.” Now Philadelphus was crying and I was consumed by guilt. How would I ever leave him behind? They’d have to tear him from my arms in front of everyone.
“If you see me off in the morning, I’ll fall apart. I’ll simply fall apart.”
“Then we’ll say our good-byes tonight,” he agreed. “We’ll stay up all night together. I won’t sleep.”
But he was still a boy. Hours later, with Bast curled up under his chin, sleep finally closed his eyes and I let that be our parting.
I was surprised to find Iullus in the hall. “You weren’t looking for me, were you?”
“No,” Iullus said. “I’m going to see Augustus.”
Oil lamps burned low, casting shadows over the painted walls. One sputtered out. “At this hour?”
My Roman half brother gave me a sharp look from under dark brows. “I’m going to ask him to annul Julia’s marriage and give her to me.”
I nearly stumbled in shock. Iullus had been my childhood nemesis, but we shared blood, so I gripped his arm to keep him from turning away. “What can you be thinking? If the emperor doesn’t laugh in your face he’ll have you shipped off to fight the Cantabri in Spain. That is, if you live so long. If he doesn’t kill you himself, Livia will see you dead by dinner!”
Like all my father’s sons, Iullus was well formed and handsome. At eighteen years old, he’d already served in war at the side of Augustus. He could have swatted me away with one strong arm, but instead he glared. “If Augustus can give a crown to Cleopatra’s daughter, why not give a great marriage to Antony’s son?”
Octavia had said it was my gift to inspire people to reach higher, but it seemed more like a curse. “Because I’m a girl. Augustus thinks I’m an ornament. An interesting amusement that suits his purposes. You’re Antony’s Roman son. If you tell the emperor that you want his daughter, he’ll think you’re trying to plot against him, trying to declare yourself his heir.”
“You just don’t want Julia and me to be together,” he said, but I saw he was wavering.
“You’re wrong.” I loved Julia and would begrudge her nothing. As far as I was concerned, Iullus’s secret affection for Julia was his only redeeming quality. “I only worry about you. In spite of everything, we’re family. That means something to me.”
“It’s because you worry about everything, Selene. You think you’re some savior. That you can go round and make everything right. Well, you can’t.” His criticism was too close to the truth for comfort, so I didn’t stop him when he stalked away. But I noticed that he returned to his room, and I prayed he had the good sense to stay there.
JUBA never came home that night, and I don’t remember that I slept. By morning there was nothing left to do but dress and take one last turn around the grounds. I passed the spinning room where Octavia had taught me to turn baskets of white fleece into spools of thread. Where Julia and I had worked the looms and woven cloth for tunics and togas. I walked through the courtyard where they’d first told me about Caesarion’s death, then through the gardens where I’d married Juba. So many slaves had been ordered to help prepare for our departure that there had been few left to clean up after the wedding. Remnants of the marriage feast were still scattered about, goblets tipped upon the stones. With a disapproving expression, Lady Octavia surveyed the mess, and I realized she was waiting for me, my wedding gift from Balbus draped over her arm. “I brought your cloak,” she said, reaching up to cover my shoulders. “You’ll want to wear it in the highlands of Africa. Give a care for your modesty and remember that even queens can catch a chill.”
“I’ll remember,” I said, grateful for the warmth against the cold morning air.
“Best that you do, because everything is going to change for you, Selene,” she continued, tugging at the fabric of my cloak so she could fasten it with a fibula pin. “You’ll be queen of a wild and untamed place. Keep your mind on your duty and don’t distract yourself worrying about Philadelphus. I’ll watch over him as if he were my own.”
I looked up, meeting her eyes, and saw that they were red-rimmed with tears. I love you too, I thought. She was the emperor’s sister and I was Cleopatra’s daughter. It was something neither of us could say, but I saw it in her eyes, and I hope she saw it in mine. “I’ll honor you always, Octavia.”
“Just do your duty to Rome and to Juba,” she sniffed, straightening the drape of my gown. “Make me proud.”
Under the archway, beneath a canopy of vines, Julia appeared. “Selene, they’re waiting for you.”
I went down the stairs with her and peeked through the bars of the gate at the impressive caravan. Wearing his finery, Juba mounted his dun stallion with the ease of an expert rider. He and Augustus would lead the procession, side by side, and if either man gave a thought to my presence, I had no reason to know it. Meanwhile, Crinagoras and some of the other courtiers climbed into wheeled carriages, readying for travel. Agrippa was there too, sweating and surly. He shouted at hapless soldiers who piled furniture, supplies, and armaments onto carts. “Load it up, laggards!”
“I’m dying of envy,” Julia said, grasping hold of my fingers and squeezing. “You’re going on an exciting adventure, whereas I’ll never see more of the world than what you can glimpse from the Palatine Hill.” Her bravado came crashing down then. Her lower lip trembled and she threw her arms around me. “Oh, Selene. I don’t want you to go.”
“I’ll come back to visit,” I promised.
“You’re too clever for that,” Julia whispered, holding me so tight I thought I might bruise. “You’ve finally found a way to escape. You’d be wise to stay away.” With that, Julia turned and fled back into the house.
“Julia!” I cried.
“Let her go,” Octavia said. “Her destiny is right here in Rome, but yours is across the sea.”
WHEN I first came to Rome, dragged as a chained prisoner behind the emperor’s chariot, the people spit at me and threw rocks. Now the Romans threw flower petals in the path of the snow-white horses that pulled my gilded carriage. A sort of fervor for all things Egyptian had taken hold of the city in my honor. Women scented themselves with lotus perfume and adorned themselves with jewelry featuring sphinxes and crocodiles. Men wore scarab rings and thick gold bracelets, if they could afford them. Perhaps it was merely the fashion, for the emperor’s own fascination with obelisks and other Egyptian treasures had set the trend. But these might be Isiacs too, come to wish me well.
Today I was the daughter of the good Queen Cleopatra who had been beloved of Julius Caesar, not the bad Queen Cleopatra the seductress. Today I was the daughter of their Antony, the good Roman general who had avenged Caesar and was merciful to his enemies, not the bad Antony who was enslaved to an Egyptian whore. I was the loyal Roman girl, ward of Augustus, rewarded with a kingdom. So they all cheered.
When the carriages, the wagons, the standard bearers, and the litters passed through the city gates onto the Via Ostiensis, the breath went out of me. I was leaving! I threw back my head and took in a great gulp of air wondering if Helios passed beneath this same canopy of umbrella pines and if he’d felt the same swirl of emotions I felt now. Anxiety and joy, sadness and triumph, regret and hope. I couldn’t be certain if the invisible shackles that bound me would break or tighten. I only knew that against all odds, I’d emerged from that stifling brick city with my life, queen of a new world.
Five
A few hours into our journey on the open road, some commotion stalled our rumbling procession. Shouts rang out, and even from the confines of my carriage Chryssa and I thought we heard weapons clashing. Wood against wood, fists against bone. It happened quickly, followed by the clatter of galloping horse hooves on the stone road. Curiosity made me pull back the curtain to see Augustus dismounting his horse. He joined me in my carriage, dismissing Chryssa to follow on foot, and then we were moving again. My heart jumped to my throat. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?”
The emperor’s expression was distant as he took the seat across from me. “Nothing for you to concern yourself about. It was a protest. Yet another crowd come to demand things of me.”
“What did they want?” I asked, hugging myself against an unexpected chill.
“It doesn’t matter. Restoration of the Republic. Restoration of the Temples of Isis. More grain. Reform. It can be anything or nothing that stirs the hearts of these malcontents.” His lips curled. “I’m only glad they won’t trouble me again.”
The menace in his tone filled me with foreboding. The wheels of my carriage rolled on and the scent of carnage told me there’d been bloodshed. I saw men dead in the grass, eyes wide and empty, gaping wounds shining with blood, glistening entrails in the dirt. A noxious stew of horror churned in my belly and boiled up to my throat. To keep myself from retching, I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth. I could scarcely make my lips move to utter the words, “You executed them.”
“They were nobodies.” Augustus yanked at his decorative cuirass as if the weight of the breastplate pained him at the shoulders. “Not even citizens. Just fools and madmen to get in my way on a day like this. My praetorians made short work of them. And if you mean to rule, Selene, if you mean to be a true queen, you’ll need a stronger stomach.”
No matter how many people he killed, I’d never be able to shrug indifferently as he did now. Murder never gave him pause, but he wasn’t an indiscriminate killer. The dead men must have threatened his power in some way, and like the monster he was, he simply cut their lives short. It was a sharp reminder of how dangerous a game it was I played with him. It gained me nothing to let him see how his ruthlessness sickened me. It wouldn’t help these poor dead strangers and it would only mark my weaknesses for Augustus to exploit. He was right. If I were to ever be his equal or ever triumph over him, I’d have to choke back my bile. So I turned my eyes away from the dead men on the road. “Did this have something to do with Helios?”
“No. I’m no longer worried about your twin. The Prefect of Egypt assures me that he’ll crush the rebellion in Thebes shortly.” My mouth went dry as I stared out at the funereal monuments that lined our path. We lurched and bumped our way down the road in silence until the emperor said, “My temper is in need of soothing and it occurs to me that I’ll miss you when we’re apart. Who will play th
e kithara for me?”
“You can hire a skilled harpist.”
He smirked indulgently. “She’ll cost me far less than you. Not every musician demands a throne as her price.”
I lifted my chin with Ptolemaic pride. “Not every musician is Cleopatra’s daughter.”
His lips twisted in amusement. “Let’s play another game. You’re Greek. You’ll enjoy this one.”
My blood was Macedonian, which wasn’t precisely the same thing as Greek, but I said, “I’m Egyptian.”
“A fact you never let me forget,” he said, showing only mild annoyance. “Now tell me, of these three historic figures, which one do I most resemble? Odysseus, Theseus, or Alexander the Great?”
The emperor had been the boy everyone had discounted. He’d risen to the consulship of Rome at the age of nineteen and now held most of the world in his palm. To find victory where all other Romans had failed, he was planning a campaign against the Parthians, so I knew he wanted to be compared to Alexander. He was never content to be himself. Within him still was the sickly boy my father had ridiculed. He was, and would always be, the insecure youth who relied on Agrippa to do his fighting and who felt compelled to kill my brother Caesarion for fear of a rival with the same name. He wanted to be Caesar. He wanted to be Alexander. But I wanted an answer that would please him even better. One that might turn his mind from war and killing. “I say that you are more like Aeneas than any of those three. Like Aeneas, who carried his ailing father out of a burning city, you’ve honored Julius Caesar. Whereas Aeneas built Lavinium, you wish to build a new Rome out of the ashes of the civil wars. Aeneas.”
“Selene,” he uttered my name in warning, as if I’d spoken something too close to his heart. Then, in a flash of motion, Augustus pulled the curtain shut, plunging the carriage into darkness. It felt strange to be alone with him in such close quarters, closed off from the outside world. I blinked, able to make out only his silhouette, a shadow of himself. “Aeneas had sons, Selene. He had sons to rule after him. I don’t. And you once predicted that my heirs will never inherit my empire.”
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