Free Cleopatra Confesses by Carolyn Meyer Page A

something bitter. “I don’t know why we even bother with you,” she says. “We were simply trying to be friendly, as sisters should.”
    They leave my tent as rudely as they entered. Monifa makes sure the silk curtains are closed behind them. She looks down at me and lays a cool, soothing hand on my forehead.
    “Rest, dear child,” she says, and goes away.
    It is quiet now. I close my eyes again, and to keep from thinking about my sisters, I let my thoughts drift back to that long-ago and nearly forgotten queen, Hatshepsut.
    When I become queen, I will be like Hatshepsut. A real pharaoh! I will not be vain and empty-headed and interested only in luxury, giving orders just to have people obey me. I will be strong and powerful, and I will rule justly and well. I will command the love and respect of my people, and I will. . .
    I am drifting off to sleep. But before I do, I realize that I have begun to think in a different way. I no longer think, If I should become queen. Now I think, When I become queen—no matter what my sisters believe.

Chapter 18
    D ANCERS
    The days drift by, slow as the Nile itself. It is now the third month of Harvest, and we have been in Thebes for twenty-four days. The heat bears down on us. I spend much of the time in my tent, reading and studying. The servants have dampened the reed mats, and the steady breeze from the north blows through the mats and cools my tent. Hardly anyone is stirring, but I am restless, and I decide to borrow one of Irisi’s dresses and go looking for Charmion. I have not spoken to her since the day she helped me to make my hip belt, though I see her dancing at the nightly banquets. Sometimes I manage to catch her eye, but she always looks away quickly.
    I find the kitchen tent, where the cooks are preparing the evening meal, sweat streaming down their faces, and ask one of the helpers to show me the way to the dancers’ quarters. He grunts and points with his chin toward a grove of trees. I am about torebuke him for his rude response when I realize that he does not know who I am in Irisi’s dress, and that pleases me. I walk in the way he pointed until I hear the light tapping of a drum and the jingle of a sistrum and follow the sound to an open space among the trees. Several of the girls lie sprawled on the ground in a patch of shade. Some arch their bodies into graceful backbends, then spring upright again with no effort. The rest are practicing jumps that look complicated and difficult.
    They are all naked.
    I step back quickly, hoping not to have been noticed, but an elegant dark-skinned woman sees me and holds up her hand. The drummer stops drumming. The dancers halt midstep. Charmion recognizes me and hurries over to where I stand.
    “Welcome, mistress,” she says, bowing low. “How may we serve you?”
    “You promised to teach me to dance,” I remind her. “It is my desire to dance with you at the king’s banquet.” I am only half-joking.
    “But you are a royal princess, mistress!” Charmion exclaims, her dark eyes wide. “It would not be seemly for the king’s daughter to be seen dancing with us.”
    “Then I shall wear a disguise. A wig. No one will recognize me.” I am beginning to take the idea seriously.
    But Charmion bursts out laughing. “Only a fool would not recognize Princess Cleopatra!” The dancers cover their faces with their hands and peer at me from between their fingers.
    “I know it is impossible, though it would be amusing! And I would enjoy seeing the expression on my sisters’ faces! But please—just teach me to dance, and I promise you no one will learn our secret.”
    Charmion glances at the older woman, who gives the slightest of nods. “First you must meet Lady Amandaris, who is in charge of the dancers. She is my mother.”
    Lady Amandaris greets me with a warm smile. “We are honored to have you with us and pleased to serve you in whatever way you wish.”
    It is impossible not to like her at once. Clearly, it is