I wrote this piece after learning about Cleopatra's younger sister. I hope people learn that...
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Chapter 5 Pompey
Everyone still stares at me, the fallen princess of Egypt. They know that the charge of murder is a serious one, and that Cleopatra is powerful.
I wonder if I should tell them the rest. They are Romans, proud Romans. I wonder if they would be offended.
“Your Highnesses, there are ships in the harbor.”
“What type?” The One asked, holding the crook and the flail. He looked serious. Cleopatra had been banished for a while now. My brothers and I were Pharaoh.
“It appears to be Roman.”
I inclined my head. “Could it possibly be Pompey? After all, there is news that he has fled Rome.”
“True.” The Young replied. “He may be here.”
“If it is true, my lord,” A noble said, standing up, “Then it may be wise to chop off his head.”
“But that would hurt the relations with the Romans.” I gasped.
The noble shook his head. “No. Pompey is no longer favored by the Romans. Kill him,” He told the One, “And you will have Caesar’s support. Caesar now rules.”
“Brother.” I pleaded. “Brother, don’t listen to him. Caesar and Pompey are brothers! What will you do when Caesar shows? Show him Pomepy’s head? Do you think he’ll be happy? Or will he weep for his lost brother?”
“Cleopatra turned on us.” My brother reminded me.
“True. But in Rome, there is no throne. There is only power that does not pass through family. Cleopatra was foolish enough to want it for herself. But the Romans are not like that. They believe in helping their family. Besides, Pompey helped our father? Would you want to repay that debt with blood.”
“It is now that matters.” The noble argued. “Not past debts.”
“But it is still a debt. Isis would be angry if we repaid hospitality with death.”
“It is a debt no longer owed. We repaid every coin of it.” The noble declared.
“Brother.” I turned to him one last time, hoping I could make him see sense.
“No, sister.” He said, overruling me. “Pompey will die.” He looked at the commander of the army. “Make sure it happens.”
The whole audience was silent. I coughed, then went on.
Pompey was brought before us. Or rather, his head. It was large and massive. That was all I noticed before I asked to leave. My brother gave me permission, knowing how I felt about death.