Every Last Kiss, Final Copy, June 30, 2011 (9 page)

      I found her sitting on her balcony gazing absently at the city below.  The stars had come out and were twinkling far above us, as the gentle Alexandrian night breeze caressed our skin.  Torches had been lit in the streets and the rich golden glow from them lit the night.  I sat at the base of her lounge wordlessly, examining her pensive expression.

      “What are you thinking, my queen?” I asked softly. 

      “Of everything, Charmian,” she sighed.  “Only of everything.”

      “That is quite a lot to think of, Cleopatra,” I answered lightly, although I completely understood. 

      Ever since my afternoon with Hasani, thoughts of
everything
had swirled non-stop in my head, as well. I couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard I tried. 

      “Thank you for today, by the way.” I turned to her again. “It was nice to spend quiet time with Hasani… with all of the stress that we’ve been shouldering of late.” I glanced at Cleopatra to find her smiling knowingly.

      “Somehow, I doubt your afternoon was quiet, love,” she murmured wryly, nudging me.  I rolled my eyes and she laughed.

      “I see that you’re still offering no details.  And that’s fine,” she grinned impishly.  “I know you will spill it eventually.  You’re horrible at keeping secrets.  Shall I dress for dinner?” 

      She didn’t wait for my answer which was good, because she didn’t notice my snort when she announced that I was horrible at secret-keeping.  My middle name might as well be Secret. 

      She strolled to her armoire, sifting among the hanging clothing.  She chose a long, turquoise shift with an elaborate embroidered belt and tossed them onto her bed as she stripped off the clothing that she was wearing.  

      I helped her dress and then sat her in front of me as I wound her hair into a coil to be concealed by her elaborate black wig.  As I worked, I decided to casually mention my run-in with Tehran.  My fingers deftly continued to tuck her hair underneath the wig’s cap as I spoke, making sure no errant tendrils escaped.  Cleopatra was used to this ritual and sat patiently while I worked over her.

      “I saw Tehran a few minutes ago.”

      I didn’t elaborate, just waited calmly for her certain questions.  She had never trusted him either.  She spun quickly around, her face frozen with anxiety. 

      “And?”

      “He was in a corner, whispering with a house-servant.  He seemed… agitated.  I decided we didn’t need his antics here any longer.  I marched over and told him that we no longer required his services since his master was dead.”

      “And?” Cleopatra’s voice rose an octave.

      “And he grabbed my arm and got quite mean.  If Hasani had not come across us, I don’t know what he would have done.  Do I have a bruise?” 

      I twisted my arm around to show her where Tehran had grabbed it.  I could feel the black and blue welt even as I touched it.  She examined it and nodded.

      “Yes, he bruised it.  Don’t let Hasani see that- the last thing we need right now is retribution.  Why did you approach Tehran now, Charmian?  He’s been here for two years with no incident.” 

      Her words echoed Hasani’s almost verbatim.  The difference, I knew, was that Cleopatra was relieved.  She didn’t want him here anymore than I did.  Apples don’t fall far from the tree… and his master had been evil. 

      I rubbed my wounded arm before I answered.  She was exactly right- if Hasani saw that Tehran had hurt me, all hell would break loose. 

      “I’m not sure, my queen. I just feel unsettled whenever he is near.  I don’t see the reason to keep someone like that around the palace… not in such close proximity to you.”

      She nodded absently and I watched in the flickering candlelight as she rubbed her perfume oil lightly into the skin of her neck, arms and wrists.  She started to put the little jar away and then added a dab to her cleavage as an afterthought. Glancing at her reflection, she sighed and set the little perfume jar in a cabinet next to her vanity. 

      “Can you do my eyes?”  She turned to me, handing me the little jar of green malachite.  I carefully lined her eyes with the small brush and then added crimson to her lips and crushed pearl powder to her face.  She examined herself again.

“Much better,” she said in satisfaction, slipping jeweled arm bands onto her slender arms.

      I had to agree. The powder had given her face a luminescent sheen, sparkling when the candlelight hit it just right. She was beguiling, just she always was, but the tension that she had been carrying had kept her face pale today. The added cosmetics tonight hid it perfectly. 

      “Shall we dine?” She held out her arm and I took it, and we strolled arm in arm to the cavernous banquet hall on the other side of the palace.   

      As we passed the mammoth ivory double-doors to the children’s suite, I paused and turned to her.

      “You lunched with the children, of course?” 

      She grinned broadly, her smile lighting up her entire face, as we resumed walking. 

      “Of course.  Caesarion was ruling over the nursery with a little iron fist, as usual. The twins were rambunctious and running laps throughout all of their rooms, running their nurses ragged.  They are well.  I…” her voice trailed off pensively and she stopped speaking. 

      “You what?” I prodded. 

      “Nothing, my love.  We can speak of it later.”  She stopped walking in front of the giant arches of the banquet hall and turned to me.  “Do I look alright?

      She looked beautiful, as she normally did, her elaborate black wig piled high onto her head and her thin shoulders gleaming in the candlelight.  But I straightened her diadem anyway, because if I didn’t make some sort of last-minute adjustment, she would worry that she didn’t look perfect. Another trait of hers that history books had not captured… she was a perfectionist in every way. 

      “Now you are perfect,” I murmured.  

      She nodded silently as we gazed into the teeming room.  At least 50 large sconces were lit within, not to mention the dozens of oil lamps lining each long table. The subtle scent of incense wafted from the room, stirred by the movements of the mass of people within. 

      Scent was important to the Egyptians, and the perfume of each individual in the room combined to create an overall scent in the air that was not unpleasant in the slightest.  It contained musky, fruity and spicy notes all at once.

      I scanned the crowded room, looking for the most important face and found him at Antony’s right.  He and Antony were speaking in earnest- in a conversation that I had to assume was about military tactics.  They tended to get fairly animated when they discussed such things and both were gesturing wildly now.  

      As I watched, a serving girl flaunted her topless body to Hasani as she knelt in front of him to fill his wine chalice, but he barely glanced at her.  I smiled in satisfaction.  Hasani continued his conversation as though she was not even there, even as she purposely swung her pendulous breasts into his face.  He simply leaned to the side so that he could see Antony better, completely unaffected.

      Antony, on the other hand, known for his ravenous appetite for the other sex, pulled her into his lap when she stepped over to him. 

      He roared in laughter as the girl squirmed, but she was not really trying to escape and everyone knew it.  To catch Marc Antony’s eye was considered an honor and she was flushed with pleasure because of it now as her naked breasts spilled over onto his thick forearm. 

      I glanced at Cleopatra, and found her watching him with a small amused smile.  One of the things she loved the most about Antony was his joy of living. 

      Antony’s transgressions with other women never mattered, because Cleopatra knew his heart.  It was she that he loved and no one knew that better than she did.  As for me, even though Egyptian culture condoned promiscuity, I was blissfully happy that Hasani had always been happy with only me. 

      I marveled at that as I looked around the room now and observed the rampant sexuality surrounding us.  Even though proprietary rules reigned during the day, it was an entirely different world once night fell. I watched as naked serving women fawned upon the banquet attendees and random couples embraced in dark corners and even out in the open.

      People living in the western world now would have a heart attack at what they would consider the immorality of it all.  It was a miracle that Hasani felt the need to be monogamous in this place, but my western upbringing as Macy was thankful for it.  I couldn’t bear to watch Hasani with another woman as Cleopatra so patiently did with Antony.

      As I watched him, Hasani glanced up and met my gaze, pausing in his conversation as he smiled at me.  His wide, white smile made my toes tingle and I took a step in his direction.

      “Cleopatra?”  I turned to her because she had not moved from where she was rooted in the doorway. 

      “Look,” she whispered, gesturing subtly with her hand into a direction to our right.

      I followed her line of vision and saw Annen talking in agitation with Tehran.  I automatically took a step in Annen’s direction, but stiffened as I watched the priest’s face transform into anger.  Tehran grasped his arm firmly and began to pull him toward the door. 

     
What the heck was Annen doing?

      “What should we do?” I asked anxiously.  “I told Tehran to leave and so did Hasani.  I can’t believe he is still here.  If Hasani sees him…” 

      The last thing I wanted was a scene.  But still.  We needed a diversion- something to distract the attention from Annen.  The priest could not use magic in public and there was no way that the frail old man could defend himself otherwise.  And Annen needed to stay safe so that I could kill him myself for stealing my bloodstone. 

      “Point him out.  Hasani
should
see him,” Cleopatra muttered.  “Such blatant disregard for your dictate is a slap in my face.  He knows you act on my behalf.”

      Cleopatra was annoyed and I desperately tried to catch Hasani’s eye again.  A brief moment later, during a lull in their conversation, both Antony and Hasani looked at us, wondering at our tardiness.  I frantically gestured toward Tehran. 

      Antony looked at me curiously, not comprehending, while Hasani sprang from his seat immediately.  Antony might not have understood what was going on, but once he saw the murderous look on his general’s face, he quickly got up to cover Hasani’s flank.

      The two large men stalked through the room, trailing Tehran as he attempted to drag Annen from the crowded banquet hall.  I absently checked to make sure that my scarf was covering the bruise on my arm before Cleopatra and I hurriedly rushed to follow them.

      Unfortunately, it took us much longer to maneuver.  Each person that we tried to slip past bowed and addressed the queen in some way, out of respect.  In times like these, being with her was a huge inconvenience.  It slowed us down and when we finally reached Hasani and Antony, we had missed the entire first part of the animated conversation.  By the time I stepped to Hasani’s side, the crowd had already swallowed the priest.   

      “What did you say?” Hasani demanded, as he grabbed Tehran by the front of his tunic.  Tehran finally looked genuinely afraid as his weasley face paled.   

      “I said nothing, general,” Tehran whimpered.  “I said nothing at all.”

      “That’s odd,” Antony interjected as he slowly drew a large dagger from his belt.  “I could swear that you just threatened our great queen.” 

      He moved closer with slow, lethal purpose.

      “My
wife
, the queen,” he added needlessly.

      “No sir- no, I did not,” Tehran’s eyes were wide and frightened as he stared at the large knife that Antony calmly held in his hands.

      “I’m pretty certain you did,” Hasani countered, with deadly calmness. 

      I felt as though I was watching a hunting lion as Hasani appraised Tehran.  His dark eyes had gone cold as he calculated the man that he was grasping. 

      “Do you know what we do to murderous traitors?”

      Before Tehran could answer, Antony lunged forward like a lithe jaguar, plunging the dagger smoothly into Tehran’s side.  Blood gushed, staining an ever-widening spot on Tehran’s tunic. 

      Antony yanked the knife back out and stepped back.

      “We kill them,” he announced as he wiped the blade on the hem of Tehran’s shift.

      Cleopatra gasped and took a step forward, but restrained herself, stepping back.  In her opinion, a queen never showed dismay or distress.   Only I noticed the panic in her eyes, as she clenched her fists at her sides.  Her knuckles quickly turned white.

      Tehran stared at her with glittering eyes. 

      “It doesn’t matter,” he rasped, coughing as blood gurgled into his mouth.  “He is here and he will kill you.” 

      “Who is here?” Hasani demanded, yanking the servant closer, but Tehran went limp as his life drained from him.  Hasani dropped him unceremoniously to the floor, where he crumpled into a heap.

      “My queen, you must retire immediately to your chambers until we can determine what is happening,” Hasani implored as he swiftly turned to us, his face an impassive mask.

      “Charmian, come-- I will escort you both to the queen’s chambers.”  I could tell by the firm set to his chiseled jaw that there was no use arguing. 

      I nodded silently as he grasped my arm, while Antony and Cleopatra followed closely behind us.  I noticed that Antony was protecting Cleopatra from the curious crowd with his own body as we walked away quickly, leaving Tehran bleeding on the expensive rug as someone called for a servant to drag his lifeless body from the hall.  Before we disappeared into a private back hallway, I looked back over my shoulder.  Annen was nowhere to be found. 

CHAPTER SEVEN

T
he sound of the Mediterranean crashed comfortingly below the palace as Cleopatra paced restlessly, her lovely face drawn and anxious as she walked circles around her large bedchamber. I had almost allowed the soothing sound to lull me into sleep as I waited for Antony and Hasani to return, but at Cleopatra’s loud sigh, I rose tiredly from the chaise I was seated upon and grasped her arm.