Oz’s gray eyes, turbulent but determined, hung in my mind. He’d pushed that woman to change the course of James Puckle. Had he killed others to change their courses, too?
“I’m not here to kill Pharaoh. But I would like to be alone with him.”
I had no idea whether he would comply with my request, which the sharp, stabbing pain in the base of my skull said was completely inappropriate, but after a moment, he nodded.
“Only because it is Pharaoh’s wish.” He swept from the room, giving me a wide berth on his way past.
Caesarion slept, undisturbed by the hushed conversation of my latest intrusion in his life. His bare chest rose and fell in a soothing rhythm, the sound of life moving in and out of him almost bringing me to tears. How much longer would his lungs fill with air, his heart pump blood through his thrumming veins?
Not long.
I moved to the edge of the sagging bed and sat, reaching out a hand to touch the bristle of his dark hair. He startled at the soft brush of my hand, his midnight-blue eyes flying open in surprise that changed quickly to pleasure.
“Kaia, my love,” he breathed in a sleepy voice that had me curled up beside him in a matter of moments.
His body radiated warmth from the woolen blanket, and his long arms held me tight against his chest. With my cheek against his heart, my own found a matching rhythm, heavy with the knowledge that this night would be our last.
We stayed that way a long time, together in silence, his breath moving strands of hair on top of my head. I toyed with the dark hair curled across his chest, running my fingertips over the play between coarse and smooth, trying to memorize everything.
When he finally spoke, it startled me. “I am glad you came. I’ve delayed my departure for Alexandria in the hopes that you would.”
My blood turned to ice. I raised my head slightly so I could look into his handsome face, my stomach sinking. “You shouldn’t have done that. I could have found you.”
He gave me a halfhearted smile. Weariness that hadn’t been there the last time we’d spent time together appeared in the rings around his eyes, the slump of his shoulders, and poked holes in my heart. “We haven’t discussed the intricacies of your comings and goings. The summons from Octavian has come, but leaving immediately didn’t seem important in the grand design of life at the moment, and I didn’t want to take any chances. Don’t worry. I’m still going back.”
I pressed a kiss to his soft, salty lips. His hands came up, cupping my cheeks and then sliding into my hair. We were both breathless a moment later when I pulled away, stars in my eyes and body close to reneging on the decision I’d made not to complicate things further.
We had one night left. Taking things further would make things more painful or just plain awkward. He smiled at me, happiness nudging away some of his fatigue. It filled me with pride that a few minutes kissing me could erase the years that had found his face over the past several days.
“I can’t stay very long, and you need to get on your way first thing in the morning. Let’s go do something.”
He sat up on his elbows, kissing me again, then eased away with a perfect, roguish grin that would have been at home on the fashion magazines that would become popular two thousand years in the future. “What would you like to do?”
“This is your world, Caesarion. Pretend I’m a lady you’d like to impress. What would you show me?”
“I am not at home in Berenice. However, as you are the only lady I have ever wanted to impress, aside from my mother, I will make an attempt.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” I teased, rolling off the bed and handing him his clothes.
I turned my back as he dressed over the next several minutes, then called the manservant, who brought fresh water and soap. After Caesarion finished washing up, we eased into the hallway, where he spoke softly to his servant. I caught enough of the whispered conversation to know that he’d promised we would return by daybreak, and they should be ready to depart for the capital city.
We paused outside the inn’s front door while Caesarion shook the kinks from his back and neck. He resembled a tiger waking in the jungle, a masterpiece of long limbs and lithe, capable movements. No matter how hard I wanted to enjoy tonight, every time I looked at him tears clogged my throat.
I tried to smile when he reached for my hand. “Where are we going?”
“Just follow me, my love.”
I started to make a joke about the Pied Piper, then realized it wouldn’t mean anything to him. Gauging by the trek of the moon across the heavens, a couple of hours remained ours before sunrise. The night was silent but for the crunch of our footsteps until the sand muted those, as well, and we walked until a wooden dock appeared, set back in an inlet where the water barely moved with a current. Farther away, toward the center of the bustling seaport, bright evidence of civilization gleamed in the darkness.
Caesarion and his guards had surely chosen to reside on its outskirts to avoid the entourage and notoriety that came with parading Pharaoh around town, especially one whose power had been called into question by Rome. The bio-tat spat facts at me about the volatile relationship between Egypt and Rome, about the port city of Berenice—population, mineral wealth, coral reefs, the booming shipping industry—but it all felt less than the scene in front of me. I didn’t want facts about this place. It was enough to experience it.
“Would you like to make use of a boat?”
“What do you mean, make use of?” I asked, feeling a bit wary after the horse riding incident.
I’d never been to Petra, the water planet in Genesis. Sanchi had a small lake that we’d stocked with fish, but it wasn’t large enough for boating, and swimming wasn’t permitted.
“This is a quiet cove. We could row out a little, drop a small anchor, and enjoy the privacy.” He gave me a small smile. “I do not mean to suggest anything untoward. Only that I want to spend these final hours with you uninterrupted, Kaia.”
“Okay. Yes.” His straightforward words took my breath away, leaving me lightheaded and drowning in a million emotions.
How could it be that I’d only met him days ago? It felt as though some part of me had been tangled with him since the beginning of time.
Together we dragged a small, wooden craft with a few pictures carved into the bow down to the shoreline and pushed until it let go of the sand. The warm water of the Red Sea splashed around our ankles before we climbed aboard. I took a deep breath, wondering if a boy who had spent his entire life being taken care of knew how to row a boat, but Caesarion surprised me with his competence.
He took hold of the twin black oars, and while he paddled, I stared at the muscles straining across his arms and chest. We didn’t go far before he hefted a stone anchor tied to a simple, thick line of rope, and dropped it into the depths. The cove must have been shallow; the water was a light blue, almost green in the moonlight, and the rope tugged tight within the space of a few breaths. The little craft had two wooden benches, both too narrow to share comfortably, but a meter-wide section of the bow was covered with reeds. Caesarion slid backward onto it, then beckoned to me, and the two of us lay on our sides, facing each other.
His body warmed mine, bicep pillowing my head as we stared into each other’s eyes. Those midnight-blue irises did funny things to my stomach—and lower parts—but he didn’t move to kiss me. Finally, he brushed a thumb over my cheek, then over my lips, and gave me a sad smile.
“Tell me about the future, my Kaia. About this world I will never see.”
“Which one?” I whispered. “Do you want to know what will happen in your world after your death? Or two thousand years from now? Or three?”