The Passion of Cleopatra (Ramses the Damned 2)

There was greater stability now, in her body, and in her soul. But her mind was not entirely healed. She wanted her memories.

On the train to Alexandria, she'd devoured the history books Teddy bought for her. And it hadn't surprised her in the slightest how the Romans had told her story. A powerful whore, whose only true power lay in between her legs. As if lust alone would have been enough to subdue a man like Caesar, a man who could have helped himself to any queen he wanted, and often did.

Would this be a curse of immortality? she wondered. To witness the degree to which victorious nations simplified and cheapened the narratives of their rivals?

It infuriated her that she was in no position to put her version of events to paper, given the uneven and unreliable return of certain memories over others.

When reading her own history became too much for her to bear, Teddy had sought to gently lecture her on the world they were traveling through. Of those inventions she had yet to encounter, of conflicts between nations whose names she had never heard spoken before.

Every now and then he offered her some piece of knowledge of which she was already in possession, and in those moments, she would place a hand gently on his thigh and inform him that even in Alexandria all those years ago, men of science had begun to speculate that indeed the earth itself was round.

Still, the extent of the known world now shocked her. It seemed impossibly large. Far too large for a single city, London, to serve as its center.

But this is exactly how Teddy described the city of his birth. The center of a vast and chaotic world that stretched between two frozen poles. It seemed akin to securing a giant tent in desert winds with only one reed. Surely, the dance of empires which had at times ensured long periods of stability during her reign could not tame such an expansive world.

And now there was talk of a great conflict brewing on the continent of Europe, which she understood was the name given to much of what had once been ruled by Rome.

But these thoughts could only occupy her mind for a short moment. For in this new, gray, growling Alexandria, the past and present fought for control of

her mind. Which one would win? She was not sure.

"It was a mistake to bring you here, my love," Teddy finally said. "A terrible mistake."

"It was nothing of the kind," she answered. "I asked you to do so and you complied. Where is the mistake in this?"

He took her in his arms so they could avoid getting trampled by a regiment of pale-skinned soldiers in uniforms more drab than any Romans had worn in her day. Were they Romans? Or were they British, like the people Ramses moved among now? And what explained their presence here? Here in her Alexandria.

No, not mine. Not mine anymore. Not mine for two thousand years.

They would leave here at once, the two of them. She could easily flee this grief, this regret, simply with another train ride. The fear of death had been removed. And she had Teddy. Boyishly handsome Teddy who hung on her every word. Who...

...he was fading right before her eyes. Teddy's smile became a look of concern as he saw the expression on her face. She tried to speak, but his very image wavered before her, and then, instead of his face, she saw another's. A woman's face. A woman she did not recognize. And there was darkness crowding in on all edges of this woman like an expanding frame of starless night sky.

The woman was pale skinned with tumbles of golden hair, and her expression showed the same bafflement Cleopatra now felt. As if they were mirroring each other. What was the woman wearing? Some sort of lacy robe. A sleeping garment of some kind.

She reached for this woman, and amazingly, this woman appeared to reach for her.

And then she was gone.

And the traffic was blaring all around her, and Teddy had gripped the hand with which she had reached out to her vision.

Nausea, dizziness; two things she had not felt since her resurrection. They seized her now with fierce power. She stumbled into the nearest wall. For some reason, her body preferred the support of cold concrete to Teddy's arms.

A vision. A vision that had taken her outside of herself. How else could she explain it? But could she explain this to Teddy? Would he understand? Worse, would his devotion to her flag when her mystery and magic took on a dark tint?

Who had this strange blonde woman been? Where had she been?

It was no memory from her past, she was utterly sure of this.

And why had this woman regarded her with the same curiosity?

"Something is not right," she whispered. "Something is..."

"I'm here, Cleopatra. I'm here. Anything you need, just ask it of me. Please."

Damn you, Ramses. Just as I seek to be free of you...

"Cleopatra," Teddy whispered.