"H-Holy shit..."
That muttered reaction escaped almost instinctively from one of Freja’s classmates the mont Cleopatra crossed the threshold.
Conversation died instantly.
When Cleopatra stepped inside the hall, clad in her traditional Amun Ra dress, the world seed to pause around her. A pristine white tunic draped elegantly over her slender fra, the fabric so fine it looked almost like flowing light. Gold adorned every edge—embroidered along the hems, layered in ornantal plates across her waist and shoulders—catching the glow of torches and chandeliers alike. Her hair was braided into long, graceful locks, each strand ticulously arranged and threaded with golden ornants that chid softly as she moved.
She did not rely enter the room.
She claid it.
Breath was stolen from every chest present.
They had all expected beauty. Cleopatra’s charm was legendary, whispered about in Ro, exaggerated in stories, glorified in poems. Yet this—this was sothing far beyond rumor or expectation. It was the kind of beauty that unsettled the mind, that made seasoned n falter and youths forget how to breathe.
"I think... I think I’m in love," soone whispered, barely aware they had spoken aloud.
"Yeah," another muttered weakly, "sa..."
Teenagers struggled openly, hormones raging and self-control slipping through their fingers—but even the Roman senators, n who had debated wars and kingdoms, could not deny the overwhelming presence before them. So stared too long. Others looked away, unsettled, as if eting her gaze might expose sothing fragile within them.
Cleopatra entered accompanied by Apollodorus, whose composed stride contrasted sharply with the chaos of whispered admiration left in her wake. Almost imdiately, Crassus and Fulvius stepped forward to greet her, their expressions carefully respectful, though the awe in their eyes betrayed them.
Officially, the banquet had been arranged for Freja—to introduce Cleopatra to her and her classmates. Unofficially, it was sothing else entirely.
A victory banquet.
A celebration marking Caesar’s downfall.
Ro’s elite had gathered to toast the supposed rebirth of the Republic, the end of tyranny, the restoration of shared power. Laughter, wine, and triumph had filled the hall monts ago—a feast celebrating democracy’s return and the fall of a single man who had dared to rise above the Senate.
Yet the mont Cleopatra arrived, the purpose of the evening shifted.
The air changed.
The whispers no longer spoke of Caesar.
They spoke only of her.
Cleopatra paused near the entrance, seemingly indifferent to the murmurs swirling around her like a living thing. Apollodorus leaned closer and whispered sothing softly into her ear. She listened, serene and unreadable, then gave a small nod. Apollodorus returned the gesture and turned away, heading straight toward Freja and the others, while Cleopatra followed one of the Amun Ra knights toward a seat prepared for her—each step asured, regal, deliberate.
"Heroes of Amun Ra," Apollodorus greeted warmly, a knowing smile playing on his lips, "I do hope you haven’t forgotten about ."
Freja and her classmates stiffened slightly.
They had only t him once—briefly, secretly—when Apollodorus had co to them in the shadows, asking them to betray Ptolemy. Back then, they had just been summoned to this world. Lost. Afraid. Overwheld by gods, politics, and a fate far heavier than they were ready to carry.
Even Freja, usually strong-willed, had been too confused to speak at the ti. It had been Johanna who stepped forward, who t Apollodorus’ gaze without fear and refused him outright.
Of course, none of them could forget a man like Apollodorus.
So of the girls flushed just at the sight of him again.
"We rember," Freja said, nodding firmly.
Apollodorus’ gaze swept across the group, sharp and observant. His smile softened slightly as he counted faces—then paused. There were fewer of them now. Far fewer than two years ago.
Johanna was among those missing.
"I see you have endured your own share of suffering," he said quietly. "I am sorry."
"Yes," Freja replied, her voice steady despite the weight behind it. "We have. But every one of them chose their path knowing what awaited them... and they died for it."
She raised her arms slightly, gesturing to the classmates standing behind her.
"The ones who remain," she continued, "know exactly what they want."
Apollodorus watched her for a mont, then smiled—genuinely this ti.
"Good," he said simply.
Turning, he gestured forward.
"Please," he added, "follow ."
Freja gave a short nod, and she—along with her remaining classmates—followed Apollodorus as he guided them toward a quieter corner of the grand hall. There, slightly elevated and set apart from the crowd, Cleopatra was already seated upon an ornate chair of carved wood and gold, her posture relaxed yet unmistakably regal.
At that very mont, hurried footsteps echoed softly across the marble floor.
Elin appeared, slipping into place beside Cleopatra, her breath just a little uneven.
Freja shot her a sharp look.
"How much ti did you need, Elin?" she asked, her brows knitting together.
"S...Sorry," Elin stamred, forcing herself to steady her voice. "Y...You know, he said he was about to leave, so I just... wanted to talk a bit more..."
She did her best to keep her expression neutral, even as warmth crept up her cheeks. There was no way she could admit that, after Freja had left the room, she had chosen to have sex with Nathan...
Thankfully, Freja either accepted the excuse—or simply didn’t have the ti or focus to question it further. Their attention was already drawn toward Cleopatra.
One of the queen’s knights stood nearby, holding a silver tray upon which rested a finely crafted goblet. Cleopatra reached out with elegant fingers, took the glass, and sipped the wine unhurriedly, her gaze calm and distant. When Apollodorus arrived at her side, he inclined his head respectfully before stepping back, leaving the heroes alone with her.
Only then did Cleopatra lift her eyes.
Her gaze settled first on Freja, then shifted to Elin—sharp, assessing, and uncomfortably intense, as though she were peeling back layers of their thoughts with a single look.
"Your Majesty," Freja said at once, bowing her head deeply.
Elin followed, as did the rest of the classmates, each offering their greetings with practiced respect.
Cleopatra took another small sip before speaking.
"Are you the leader of this group?" she asked coolly.
"Yes," Freja replied, lifting her head. "I am. My na is Freja."
Cleopatra studied her in silence for a long mont. Then her gaze slid back to Elin, her eyes narrowing slightly—not with hostility, but with a keen awareness that made both girls feel exposed.
"We wished to apologize," Freja began carefully, choosing her words with intent, "for the misunderstanding regarding our allegiance to Ro. There was a dispute within our class—"
"I don’t want to hear it," Cleopatra interrupted, cutting her off mid-sentence as she raised the goblet once more. "I am not interested in your internal quarrels."
She set the glass down and leaned back slightly.
"What I want to know," she continued, her tone calm but commanding, "is why you now wish to take you back. Why should I bring you into my Empire?"
The atmosphere tightened instantly.
Everyone stiffened.
The way she spoke made it sound as though no decision had been made—no promise given, no invitation assured. Alexandria, safety, and answers were suddenly far less certain than they had believed.
Freja’s fingers curled into a fist at her side. For a brief mont, she hesitated—until Nathan’s words echoed in her mind: Be honest. Don’t try to play her.
She drew a breath.
"We want to return to Earth," Freja said plainly. "To our world."
Cleopatra’s lips curved slightly—not in amusent, but in dismissal.
"I am not running a charity," she replied coolly. "I already have more burdens than I care to count."
"We understand that," Freja answered without backing down. "But in exchange for your hospitality... we will lend you our strength."
"So," Cleopatra said calmly, her voice smooth, "you will lend your strength, and in exchange you expect to help you find a path back to your world... and to promise that, when that ti cos, I will release you."
Her words were precise—too precise.
"Y... yes," Freja replied, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected Cleopatra to grasp the full extent of her request so quickly, nor to articulate it so cleanly.
Cleopatra nodded slowly, as if confirming sothing she had already concluded.
"I may indeed require capable hands," she continued, "to protect my people and rebuild the Empire my dear brother so thoroughly damaged."
She shifted slightly in her seat, golden ornants chiming softly.
"However," she added, her tone sharpening just a fraction, "that assistance will not co without a price. You will swear allegiance to —formally—at Alexandria. All of you."
Silence fell.
The words lingered heavily in the air as Freja’s classmates exchanged uneasy glances. Allegiance. Empire. Oaths. These were not concepts they all truly understood—not in full. So of them had imagined safety, shelter, maybe a chance to rest. Few had imagined kneeling before a queen and binding their fate to hers.
Freja inhaled deeply.
"We will swear allegiance and help you—and the Amun Ra Empire," she said at last, her voice firm but respectful. "But we are not rcenaries. We will not slaughter innocents or spill blood without cause."
Cleopatra’s eyes flicked to her, cool and assessing. She lifted her goblet and finished the remaining wine in one smooth motion.
"You ask for much," she replied evenly. "Perhaps remaining in Ro would be the wiser choice for you all."
At those words, tension snapped tight.
Several of them stiffened visibly. Ro—this place of intrigue, betrayal, and endless political gas—was the last thing any of them wanted. They had already lost too much here. They wanted nothing more than to leave this cursed city behind.
"W...We will protect you," Elin said suddenly, her voice trembling despite her effort to sound composed. "Your people. Your Empire. Isn’t that... enough, Your Majesty?"
She looked up at Cleopatra with a pleading gaze, her hands clenched at her sides.
"Not enough," Cleopatra answered without hesitation, nodding once. "And that is the first thing you must understand."
Her expression hardened—not cruelly, but decisively.
"I am not as foolish as my brother," she continued, "nor as manipulative as that pig Pothinus. Do not mistake compassion for stupidity."
She paused, letting her words settle.
"I have been greatly displeased by what you have done—and what you have failed to do—over the past two years."
Freja’s chest tightened.
"However," Cleopatra went on, "I am willing to let it slide. My trusted advisor places considerable faith in your character and your abilities."
At that, Freja’s eyes flicked briefly toward Apollodorus, who stood quietly nearby, before returning to Cleopatra.
Then, unexpectedly, Cleopatra asked,
"How old are you?"
"Nineteen," Freja answered.
The others were much the sa. They had been seventeen when they were summoned into this world—children, really, even if the weight of war had tried to force them to grow faster.
"Nineteen..." Cleopatra murmured.
They were the sa age.
And yet, the gulf between them was unmistakable. Where the heroes still carried uncertainty, hesitation, and scars that had yet to fully harden, Cleopatra carried herself with the certainty of a ruler shaped by betrayal, exile, and survival.
In truth, she would have refused them outright.
They had turned her away when she had needed them most. Excuses ant nothing to her—need was need, and power waited for no one. Now that she had reclaid her throne, they ca seeking her favor. That reality was not pleasant.
Yet context mattered.
They had been summoned into a foreign world, stripped of allies, surrounded by powers they could not comprehend. Fear and confusion had guided many of their choices.
And then there was Nathan.
He had given his word.
Not for all of them—but clearly, without hesitation, for Freja and Elin. The two most influential figures among the heroes who also happened to be his won.
For that reason alone—
"Very well," Cleopatra said at last, rising slightly from her seat. "We leave tonight."
Her gaze swept across them.
"Be ready."
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