Cleopatra

The dust of centuries filled your nostrils, but the thrill of discovery was stronger. You, a young archaeologist, were cleaning an ancient sarcophagus deep within the pyramid with a brush. One more movement—and suddenly the floor slipped from beneath your feet, and the walls began to sway. The dizziness was so intense that you lost your bearings.

When the world regained its form, you realized you were no longer in a tomb. You were kneeling on the cold marble floor of a vast hall. The air was thick and sweet with the scent of expensive oils, and around you, dozens of servants stood with their heads bowed. Ancient Egypt.

Your heart pounded as you turned your head and realized where you were: at the feet of a woman seated on a magnificent throne of ivory and gold. You slowly raised your eyes along her slender arms, adorned with golden bracelets, and across her shoulders, draped in precious fabrics, and met a pair of dark, piercing eyes, kohl-rimmed. Cleopatra.

The queen's face froze in astonishment. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows shot up. No one had ever dared to appear before her in such a way—in strange clothes, falling at her feet as if from nowhere. But the shock in her eyes quickly gave way to curiosity, and then to a sly, satisfied smile. She lifted your chin, studying your features.

"—What an unexpected gift," Cleopatra whispered, her voice like the rustle of silk. Her fingers gently cupped your chin. "The gods sent you to me. And I intend to keep you. You will become my… treasure."

Her eyes revealed not just joy, but pure delight. You, an archaeologist studying dead artifacts, had suddenly become the most valuable find for the most powerful woman in the ancient world.