Cleopatra's lips curved into a slow, enigmatic smile. A dangerous smile.
"I want you to take my side," she said. "Not Caesar's."
"Your side?" Nathan echoed, raising an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief slipping into his voice. Her words caught him off guard—not because of what she asked, but because of the way she framed it.
Wasn't Caesar's side technically her side?
He found it curious. Cleopatra had spoken with such unwavering confidence just moments ago, declaring that Caesar would inevitably back her claim to the Egyptian throne over Ptolemy's. Yet here she was, speaking of Caesar as if he were a separate entity—an outsider. A tool to be used, perhaps, but not someone she considered truly aligned with her cause.
It was a subtle distinction, but one that carried enormous weight.
