"I cannot believe I allowed myself to be so submissive!"
Cleopatra's voice cut through the thick silence of her quarters, sharp as a whip. Her clenched fists trembled slightly, betraying the storm of fury boiling just beneath her regal composure.
The chamber, adorned with silken drapes and gilded columns, suddenly felt suffocating as the Queen of the Amun Ra paced back and forth like a lioness trapped in a gilded cage. Despite the grandeur of her surroundings—ornate furniture, golden incense burners wafting scents of myrrh and frankincense—there was no disguising her turmoil. Her usual poise, always so practiced and powerful, had crumbled beneath the weight of a single, excruciating decision.
A decision she hated herself for.
