Cleopatra stormed into her chambers, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. Rage coursed through her veins, her nails digging into her palms so hard she nearly drew blood.
"How dare he?" she seethed, pacing like a caged lion.
Her coronation. Her birthright. And in a single moment, Akhenaten had ripped it away, declaring before all of Egypt that she was unworthy.
She slammed a jeweled goblet onto the table, watching as wine spilled over the edges like blood.
"This is treason," she hissed.
Her ladies-in-waiting stood frozen, eyes wide with fear. No one dared speak. No one dared move.
Cleopatra turned sharply. "Summon my advisors. Now."
One of the women hesitated. "My lady, the Pharaoh—"
"I do not care what the Pharaoh has commanded!" Cleopatra snapped. "I am still a daughter of Ptolemy, and Egypt is still my home!"
A tense silence followed. Then, before anyone could respond—
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
The deep, guttural sound of the goon drums echoed through the palace walls, shaking Cleopatra to her very core.
Her breath caught.
No.
No, no, no.
She knew what those drums meant. Every Egyptian did.
They were reserved for only one fate—the fate of a traitor.
The world seemed to tilt beneath her feet.
Then, realization struck like a lightning bolt.
They were for her.
A loud crash sounded as the doors to her chambers burst open. Guards poured in, their faces grim, their hands gripping weapons.
"Princess Cleopatra," the captain of the guard announced, his voice like steel. "By order of Pharaoh Akhenaten, you are under arrest for treason against the throne."
Cleopatra’s eyes blazed. "You dare accuse me of treason? Have you no shame?"
She took a step back, her mind racing. Fight? Flee? There was no time—no space to maneuver.
"I am the rightful Queen of Egypt!" she roared. "This is madness!"
The guards advanced.
She reached for the dagger hidden beneath her robes, but strong hands seized her wrists before she could unsheath it.
"Release me!" she screamed, thrashing against their grip.
Chains were clasped around her wrists with brutal efficiency. The cold iron bit into her skin.
She struggled, kicking, twisting—she would not go quietly.
"Enough!" the warrior barked, slamming her down onto her knees.
Pain shot through her legs, but she refused to cry out.
The captain knelt beside her, his voice lower now. "Do not make this harder than it has to be."
Cleopatra lifted her chin, her voice a whisper of venom. "I hope the gods curse every last one of you."
They yanked her to her feet.
The halls of her palace blurred as she was dragged away, her mind a whirlwind of fury and disbelief.
How had this happened?
Her own brother. Her own blood.
Had he planned this all along?
The moment they reached the outer gates, she realized how deep the betrayal ran.
The streets of Thebes were lined with people, waiting.
Waiting for her.
Whispers filled the air. Faces she had once known—nobles, merchants, even servants—stared at her as though she were already dead.
A rock flew. It struck her shoulder, sharp pain blooming across her skin.
Another followed. And another.
"Traitor!" someone shouted.
"Unworthy!"
“Cleopatra should be executed for treachery!”
She stumbled but refused to fall.
She would not give them the satisfaction.
The grand palace gates loomed ahead, a cruel reminder of what she had lost. The place that had once bowed before her now cast her out like a common thief.
"Let me go!" she hissed, twisting against the grip of the guards.
"Silence, prisoner," one of them growled, yanking the chain that bound her hands.
"Prisoner."
The word sliced deeper than any blade.
She spotted Akhenaten standing on the palace steps, his arms folded, a smirk playing on his lips. Beside him stood his wife, Nefertari, draped in fine silks, her expression unreadable.
"Brother!" Cleopatra shouted, her voice cracking with fury. "You will pay for this treachery!"
Akhenaten raised an eyebrow, unconcerned. "Will I?"
"You dare do this to your own blood?" she continued, ignoring the pain in her wrists. "The gods will punish you!"
Akhenaten chuckled, the sound infuriating. "The gods have already spoken, Cleopatra. They have cast you down, and I am merely delivering their will."
Her body shook with rage. "You are a coward."
The smirk faltered. Just for a second.
Then he turned to the guards. "Take her away. Make sure she learns humility before she reaches her final destination."
Cleopatra’s stomach clenched. "Destination?" she spat. "What do you mean?"
The guards tugged on her chains, pulling her forward.
"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.
No answer.
"Akhenaten!" she screamed. "Don’t you dare turn your back on me!"
But he did.
And with that, her fate was sealed.