This was my life, our story, and like all moments in time, it could only truly be lived once. Memories could be recalled and re-examined but never redone. We did our best to say the right things, to express enough, in the moment.
Or we lived with the regrets.
*
Berenice , Egypt , Earth Before–30 BCE (Before Common Era)
My luck with timing my arrival didn’t hold a second time. When I arrived, Caesarion and his party were taking supper by a small fire, and by the looks of things, he was the only one happy to see me.
Shock and anger colored the guards’ features as I shimmered into the evening. Caesarion’s relieved and delighted grin barely registered before his contingent of protectors flew to their feet and rushed me. I didn’t fight, unsure how to best handle the situation and following the instruction flooding my brain through the bio-tat, which insisted I appear as nonthreatening as possible.
Caesarion stood, his eyes hard as one of his guards yanked my arms behind my back and two others pointed swords at my chest and belly. The one behind me twisted my arms hard, and I cried out.
The blood drained from my True’s face, his white-hot fury electrifying the evening. “Do not hurt her, Ammon, or I will snap your head off with my bare hands.”
The guard behind me, who must have been Ammon, loosened his grip in surprise but didn’t let go. My eyes met Caesarion’s in an attempt to convey both my gratitude and to warn him to proceed with care.
“She appeared from nowhere, my Pharaoh. The girl is a dark one.”
“Or a sihr,” a second guard spat, disgust dripping from his chin.
The last word didn’t translate exactly into English or Latin, or even Greek, and it took my brain stem tat a minute to give me a workable definition. It provided a loose translation to sorceress or witch, and then returned a file on ancient Egyptian belief in witchcraft and magic. The knowledge relaxed the tightness in my shoulders. Magic and witchcraft intertwined with daily life for these people, and wasn’t considered inherently evil, as it would be once the Catholic or Islamic Church established a foothold. But a layman, and a female, harnessing the heka raised their defenses, especially around their revered Pharaoh.
“I’m not going to hurt him,” I stated, putting all my honesty on my face. Forthrightness heard in the voice, seen in the eyes and posture, crossed worlds and cultures and centuries. I only hoped they would choose to see my intention. “I love him.”
Caesarion startled at the confession, and Ammon dropped my arms. I took a hesitant step toward my True, stopping short when the other two guards didn’t lower their weapons and the old manservant stepped in front of his royal charge.
Stalemate.
I considered returning to the Academy and trying again after a few hours had passed, when all but one of the guards would be asleep, but then Caesarion shouldered the manservant out of the way and reached for me. My hands slid into his and contentment flooded every muscle. Snuggled against his side, the two of us faced his guards, their weapons still trained on me but all of their faces uncertain. Confused. With the exception of the guard who still emanated anger and hatred.
His shaved head gleamed in the light from the moon, his desire to hurt me reflected by the dying fire. Sweat beaded and dripped toward his hard, black eyes. They filled with distrust, and the smell of his fierce protectiveness broke out gooseflesh on my skin. That man would kill me to protect Caesarion, even if it angered his master, and sleep well that night, secure in the knowledge that he’d done the right thing.
My mind struggled to find a way to explain or to make this right, but it came up empty.
“She might be a dark one, or a sihr, but she will not harm me.”
“Pharaoh … You are a young man and naive to the ways of the world outside the palace. Let Thoth explain it to you—women cannot be trusted, especially ones who claim to love you.” The hateful guard glared, his wary anger as hot as a bonfire. “The dark ones kill without warning, without weapons. We have seen it.”
The explanation spun a web of confusion in my brain. The translator came up with no additional information for the term dark one, and the mention of killing infected me with uncertainty.
Caesarion’s arm tightened around my back, washing warmth through my body and deepening the headache at the base of my neck. I needed to pop some painkillers.
“Thank you for your insight, Thoth, but I am Pharaoh. You will not harm her, and she will not harm me. You will not speak of her presence ever, not to anyone. Do you understand?” His voice took on an authoritative tone that straightened the backs of the guards, who nodded in unison.
I never thought I would be a girl turned on by power, but the ease with which Caesarion wielded his filled me with pride and lust in equal measure. With thousands of years of known history and a thousand more still to come, this confident, beautiful, thoughtful man was meant to be mine. And for a few more days, I could have him.
The guards dropped their weapons to their sides, and I heaved a sigh of relief.
Caesarion turned to face me, his hands running from my shoulders to wrists, checking for wounds. “Are you hurt, my love?”
Breath caught in my chest at his subtle return of my sentiment. We’d spent two days together and I felt love, real and consuming, which in any other situation would seem ludicrous. Jonah had been the one to connect with Romeo and Juliet, to find it romantic, not me—I found it unbelievable and silly.
Before this. Before him.
There were scads of books, plays, and movies from Earth Before where the boy and the girl claimed to love each other from first glance, but it was rarely real love. It was simply an intense physical compatibility, which certainly still existed in Genesis and began many a Chosen pairing.
Caesarion and I were an exception. There was instant recognition between every cell, every molecule in our bodies that we had found our one perfect fit, and from the moment I had laid eyes on him, I’d loved him. I may have chosen not to act on it, had we not resolved the initial misunderstanding, but since then he’d proven a handsome, well-spoken, intelligent man underneath the pampered, entitled exterior. A man worthy of love, and so much more than he would receive from the world.
I felt lighter at his side, the troubles at the Academy eased by his smile, if not forgotten.
His eyes shone bright with emotion, telling me he hadn’t called me his “love” without meaning it. I felt as though I’d toppled into a pool of cool water, and let it wash over me as we stared.
I smiled as he brushed his palms down my face, then trailed them down my arms. “I’m fine. Not hurt. Thank you for saving my life.”
The words tumbled free before I could think, but it didn’t stop them from bruising my heart. I didn’t know if Caesarion heard the unspoken addition, but it rang clear in my ears.
Thank you for saving my life even though I’m not going to save yours.
Sadness tinged his smile, as it so often did. “It was my pleasure. Now, are you hungry?”
I shook my head, wishing the melancholy that tried to supplant my happiness could be shaken loose, too. “No. Have you eaten?”
“Yes, we just finished.”
The guards were still staring at us, and Thoth looked as though he was plotting ways to make my death look like an accident. The weight of their gazes made me uncomfortable, and the fact that I wanted Caesarion to keep touching me and saying beautiful things made me wish for at least a modicum of privacy.
More than anyone on this planet would consider appropriate, but we were past caring.
I ignored the germ of worry gnawing a hole in my stomach. Now that the guards had witnessed my appearance, Caesarion’s wasn’t the only history that had been changed by my unauthorized travel. Thoth and Ammon, along with the manservant and unnamed guard, would be affected by these encounters in ways I couldn’t begin to guess. What if I traveled back to Sanchi only to find everyone and everything gone, erased by my stupid impulsiveness?