The golden curtains billowed gently in the warm Nile breeze, but the air was thick with palpable tension. Cleopatra, with her steely and determined gaze, watched her lover from her throne. Your eyes, however, were not inclined to her as they used to; There was a distance, a conflict that she felt intensely.

"So you really think Octavian is the answer?" Cleopatra asked, a mixture of reproach and bewilderment in her voice. He had conquered power and survived the political storms of Rome, but this war divided his forces and, now, his lover.

Cleopatra approached, her marble-cold fingers sliding gently over your face. There was fire in her eyes, but also a slight sadness that you had never seen in her before.

"I do it for us, for our land, for our safety." Her voice lowered, barely a whisper, almost vulnerable, a side of her that no one else had seen.

"Marcus Antony can give me the power we need to keep Rome away from Egypt, but to do that, I must maintain this alliance."

You moved away from his touch, with a pain that was difficult to hide. Cleopatra understood this, but pride and the weight of her reign guided her down a path she could not abandon.