Kaisaros: The Roman Pharaoh

Chapter Six: Silks And Satin

Gazing out at the sunset, I hear Antony walk in. "I'm beginning to see what you saw in this place," I murmur, staring out at the city bustling with activity.
"It is beautiful," I admit, turning to face him.
"It is," he responds, watching me walk over to the table set up with various types of makeup.

I sigh, picking up a damp cloth to wipe away the kohl and blue eyeshadow. "Don't," Antony's voice comes out in a pleading whisper. Surprised, I turn to look over my shoulder, cloth still in hand. He blinks a few times, realizing he's giving orders to his Pharaoh and looks down.

"I mean, don't remove it if you want. You look good with it on," he murmurs. I turn in my seat to face him completely, setting the cloth down.
"In all of my years knowing you, I never thought I'd hear you compliment me," I admit, head tilted.
The torchlight may be playing tricks on me, but I swear I see his ears redden.

"I'm beginning to think we should have just ran away together," he sighs, looking back up with tired eyes.
"You know I never would have agreed to that," I answer sadly, just as tired as he looks.
"I know, but a man can dream, no?" He jokes, laughing bitterly.

"Come," I say, standing up. "Lie down in bed, you look ready to collapse." Another bitter laugh from him.
"What makes you think I deserve to live after all I've done? I can never go back to Rome or the Senate will have my head."
Gently, I grab his calloused hand. "You're staying here with me," I state firmly. "I will not let you suffer from your last mistakes. When the time comes and you pass away, I will hold the most grand funeral for you and encase your mummy in a tomb. When I die..."

I exhale, squeezing his hand. "Whoever I have as heir will be Pharaoh. But my body will be next to yours, sealed away with you for all eternity in the Valley of the Kings where we belong. We'll journey to whatever afterlife awaits us, but it will be together. History may paint our faults, but know this, Antony. I love you. I have always loved you."

I find myself rambling, venting out feelings I have been keeping down for almost seventeen years.
"Philippi, Actium, Alexandria, all of these battles somehow brought us back to one another. In a sense, I do regret having you marry Octavia. I can still see the hurt in your eyes, and I'm sorry. If only...if only I had..." I sniff, feeling a lump form in my throat, choking me.

"Shh," he shushes me with a kiss to the forehead, wiping away tears and smearing the kohl with his thumb. "So much for not messing up your makeup," he jokes, his usual cocky self. I laugh through my tears, playfully swatting his arm away.
He snorts, his attitude changing to something softer.

"Thurinus," he sighs, hands on my waist and kissing my neck once. I nearly feel my knees buckle and I gasp. He laughs at my reaction, picking me up like I weigh nothing and walks to bed. He hovers over me as I lie in bed, breathing quickly.

"I love you as well, you've always known that," he whispers, taking my hand and kissing each of my fingers. I recognize that glint in his eyes from years ago, insecurity. Antony had always been used to following someone's orders, Caesar's, Cleopatra's, and now mine. He obeys orders like a trained dog to their master, and I only just now realize this.

So I kiss him on the lips, feeling him practically melt at my touch. He makes a pleading noise in the back of his throat as my hands go through his now clean hair. He no longer looks like a depressed man who lost a war.
I pull away, catching my breath to look the older man in the eyes.

At fifty-three years old, he looks older than his age. Stress has clearly not been kind to him. Even just from kissing, he looks tired. With a groan, he lays beside me, breathing labored. I curl up on my side to face him, nearly sinking into the mess of pillows around the headboard.
"I love you," he says this in fluent Greek and I shiver at the tone. I haven't heard him speak in Greek to me in years. We've only ever spoken in Latin since I struggled learning Greek.

"I love you as well," I repeat in shakier Greek, laughing a little at still not fully grasping the language.
He smiles, hand going through my hair now gently.
"How I've missed hearing you laugh, seeing you smile," he murmurs in Latin, shifting closer on the mattress.
"Going on those amorous adventures we had, our shared pranks," he laughs, remembering times gone past. "How I wish we could go back to those days."

"We cannot, Antony. You know that as well as I. But we can make new adventures," I remind him.
"I know," he rolls his eyes. "That's why I've wanted to ask you something."
"Oh?" I flick my gaze over to him, curious.
He looks flustered now, taking my hands in his.
"I know by Roman standards, my...marriage with Cleopatra was never considered legitimate since I was with a foreigner. But...who says I cannot marry another Roman?"

I feel my heartbeat quicken, the pieces clicking together in my mind before I can utter a word.
Antony laughs nervously, moving my hands to press against his chest, looking to be on the verge of tears despite smiling. His heartbeat is going as quickly as mine under my palms.
"I have made a lot of mistakes in my life, I realize that now, but I know this decision will not be. By the grace of Jupiter, Juno, and all of the Egyptian gods," he says, looking me straight in the eyes.

"Will you have the honors of being my husband, Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus?"