The Time-Traveling Fashionista and Cleopatra, Queen of the Nile

by Bianca Turetsky

  “I’ve been thinking, Charmian, the Romans are so smug because they control the purse strings. My father was not wise to let our nation become so indebted to those barbarians. But I will show the general just how clever the Egyptians can be. And perhaps I will win back some of the land our father lost in the process,” Cleopatra said determinedly.

  “How?” Louise asked, excited to be privy to this political strategizing. She wanted to tell her about the conversation she had overheard in the city but thought it should wait until they were alone. Cleopatra never seemed to have much privacy, with all the servants and siblings and guests roaming around the palace.

  “I have made a wager with him that I could host the most expensive dinner party he has ever attended. Charmian, I need you to bring me all the pearls from my jewel box. I have some experimenting to do. We’ll see if my science lessons have paid off. I daresay they will prove to be very valuable.”

  Science? Dinner parties? Rotten vegetables? How is that going to solve anything? “Of course,” Louise finally responded, having no idea what the strong-minded queen was talking about. In any case, this request would be the perfect way for Louise to keep an eye on the pearl necklace that Cleopatra took from her the other day. She didn’t think her aching feet and sore shoulders would be able to stand too much more indentured servitude in the ancient world.

  “And do be careful, those pearls are worth more than all the gold in Egypt. You must guard them with your life.” Louise was getting a little uncomfortable at just how often Charmian’s life seemed to be put on the line.

  “I will.” She gulped. Whether she liked it or not.

  Unfortunately, the pearl necklace was not in the jewel box with the others. Louise sat on a low magenta leather pouf in Cleopatra’s massive walk-in closet. It was ten times as big as Louise’s bedroom at home and filled top to bottom with headdresses and ceremonial robes and gowns. She frantically went through the contents of a grandiose ebony jewelry box for the umpteenth time. Piles of jewels of every color and every precious and semiprecious stone imaginable surrounded Louise. She had separated out a mound of pearls to give to the queen: pearl earrings, pearl rings, loose iridescent pearls, gray pearls, pink pearls, perfectly round pearls, irregular baroque pearls, but Louise figured Cleopatra must have kept that one particular necklace separate and hidden it somewhere else. But where? And why? She thought back to Arsinoe sitting at the dining table decked out in mounds of jewels and pearls—had she taken it? Louise stuck her head inside the dollhouse-size jewelry box one last time to no avail; the silk-lined chest was completely emptied of its luxurious contents. The necklace was most definitely missing. Before it fully sunk in that Louise was in perhaps the most serious trouble of her life, Cleopatra returned and announced the end of another day.

  “Olympus, have you been able to collect all the antidotes?” the queen asked the physician, a serious-looking bald man in a cream-colored toga. Cleopatra sat on a thronelike golden chair behind a wide ebony desk and wore a royal blue pleated sheath dress with a matching silk sash tied around the waist under a sheer green shawl. Today she had on a black braided wig ornamented with silver beads and a golden cobra.

  “Almost all of them, Your Highness. I am still working on the venom of the Egyptian cobra.”

  “Do hurry,” Cleopatra urged. “I fear what will happen if we are not thoroughly prepared.”

  Yes, please hurry, Louise echoed in her head. Without it, she worried, she would never get a wink of sleep. The previous night was another fitful one, when she managed to get only a brief rest as the sun started to rise. Her already overactive imagination was working overtime as a result of her current sleeping arrangement. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Livia’s trembling lips take a sip from the poisoned gold goblet. She always woke up screaming for her to stop, but it was too late. She was already dead. And if Louise didn’t find the pearl necklace, she was afraid she soon would be, too.

  Louise took a seat on a low marble bench off to the side and looked on, confused, as a bearded man with shifty bloodshot eyes was led into the sparsely furnished room. Olympus began tying him down to a long wooden table on a raised platform in the center of the room while Cleopatra dipped her pen into a well of ink as though she were in school getting ready to take notes. The red-eyed man looked exhausted and hardly struggled as his legs and arms were secured tightly with thick leather straps. As soon as he was restrained, a servant walked in carrying a large woven basket with a tightly fastened lid. He carefully opened the basket and, to Louise’s horror, expertly pulled out a live, thrashing snake with his bare hands!

  Cleopatra nodded her head, giving the snake wrangler the okay, and he released the brown-and-yellow-striped asp onto the table. It slithered and wrapped itself up the man’s trembling bare leg. The snake let out a loud foreboding hiss, baring its sharp fangs, before it attacked and bit the man on the forearm, leaving two distinct red marks. The restrained man let out a pained yell as all the color drained from his face and his mouth fell open in a silent scream. Before Louise could even comprehend what had just happened, he convulsed, closed his eyes, and quietly took his last breath with a final shudder.

  “He is dead,” the doctor declared matter-of-factly after feeling the prisoner’s pulse, or lack thereof, and dropping his limp arm.

  Cleopatra nodded with a tight smile on her painted red lips. “That will do. Please take him away.”

  Louise sat there, mute and frozen, completely sickened at what she had just witnessed. She could not believe that this was her second dead body in only three days! Louise needed to get out of this dangerous era, and soon. People’s lives were treated with no more importance than roaches. Louise saw all too clearly that she was expendable in Cleopatra’s eyes. She could be immediately replaced. No one would miss her here. She needed to get back to a time where she mattered, where people saw her. She needed to go home.

  How could Glenda and Marla allow her to travel back to such a perilous time? And then Louise realized with horror that they hadn’t. They just sent her to a movie set, not some murderous ancient palace. She had chosen this experience by taking the necklace. And she was going to have to find her way back by herself, hopefully before another person croaked in front of her.

  “A rather dignified death for a murderer, I must say,” Cleopatra said, turning to her with a satisfied look. “That didn’t look too painful, did it?” she asked Louise intently. “Next we will experiment with the toxic poison from the hemlock plant. So much crime these days, our prisons are overflowing. We are doing the city and the Egyptians a great service.”

  “What is this for?” Louise gasped, somehow finding her voice but still in a state of near total shock.

  “Research,” Cleopatra answered cryptically as she methodically recorded everything down in black ink on the papyrus scroll. From this angle, Louise couldn’t read what Cleopatra was writing, but she had a feeling the title of this particular book was something like The Most Deadly Poisons in the World or How to Commit the Perfect Murder. The snake wrangler grabbed the bloodthirsty asp by the head and forced its wiggling and thrashing body back into the basket, securely retying the lid with a thick rope.

  “Unlike the rest of my family, I want to be able to control my own fate,” Cleopatra stated dramatically. Louise shakily stood up from the hard bench and left the room without excusing herself. She had seen enough for one day.

  Later that same day, when Louise had somewhat recovered from the morning’s deadly events, she found herself in a rare moment alone with the queen in her chambers. “Your Highness, when I was in the market, I heard the people talking about the drought,” Louise began and launched into telling Cleopatra about the conversation she overheard during her trip into the city of Alexandria. Louise was fed up with standing on the sidelines and holding her tongue. She wanted to help however she could and then get as much distance from ancient Egypt as possible, hopefully a few thousand miles and years away. “They are very worried that there will not
be enough food—” Before she could mention the protest that was being organized, a panting messenger standing in the doorway interrupted her.

  “My queen,” he wheezed. “I need your signature as well as King Ptolemy’s on these royal documents to decree the use of the Royal Army to intervene and protect the boats carrying the grain from the South to the ports of Alexandria,” he gasped, seriously out of breath.

  Cleopatra coolly grabbed the sheet of papyrus from his trembling hands and carefully read the paper before confidently signing her name. “Mine is enough.”

  “But—” the messenger began to protest.

  “As I said,” Cleopatra interjected, pausing dramatically while letting him squirm for a long, uncomfortable moment. “My signature is enough.”

  “As you wish, my queen,” he conceded, seemingly terrified of Cleopatra. He quickly rolled up the signed sheet of papyrus and scurried out of the room.

  Louise was impressed. Cleopatra was not afraid to show him who was in charge. She clearly had no intention of sharing power with her “co-ruler.” Louise had a feeling it wasn’t typical for a woman to sign her name on royal documents without her husband, although by now she had realized that Cleopatra was not your typical girl.

  “Charmian, where were we? I need you to summon my sister Arsinoe immediately,” Cleopatra commanded, turning toward Louise. “She has been so ill-tempered lately. I’d like to have a word with her,” she continued, not giving Louise a chance to finish her story from the marketplace. Perhaps that decree Cleopatra just signed would be enough to help stop the famine and prevent any civil unrest.

  “Since our father has died, I must act as both sister and parent to her. I can see she is already starting to resent my authority. Oh, Isis, please guide me.”

  I could use a little guidance, too, Louise thought as she sighed. For one, she had no idea where the pearl necklace was that got her into this situation in the first place. And on top of that, she was still completely lost trying to navigate her way around the palace. This estate was enormous, and the members of the royal family seemed to each have an entire wing to themselves. It could take her a week to find Arsinoe! If only she had never touched that pearl necklace. She could probably be at a Hollywood party right now with Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, discussing the next day’s costumes with Irene!

  Louise knew better than to ask for directions from her boss. As Charmian, she should know all the answers already, and so she took off down the Persian-carpeted hallway as though she knew where she was going, praying that she had headed in the right direction. Louise paused when she heard King Ptolemy’s distinct high-pitched voice from the other side of a tall door, which had been left carelessly ajar.

  “We must get rid of Cleopatra! I want to be in charge all by myself, and she is ruining everything,” he whined. Louise held her breath and cupped her ear to the wall so she could hear their conversation better.

  “Of course, my lord,” she heard a deep male voice respond.

  “Leave it to us. We will make sure Cleopatra is out of the way for good and no longer able to bother you,” another man said, followed by Ptolemy’s hysterical laughter.

  Cleopatra was right—her own brother wanted her dead! Louise peeked through the gap in the door and saw a group of grown men in dark robes gathered around Ptolemy in the midst of a heated discussion. The young king was wearing a regal purple cloak and sitting on a golden throne with his black cat curled up on his lap. Among these advisers Louise was surprised to recognize Pothinus, Cleopatra’s tutor from the lesson the other morning. He was speaking with an older man draped in a long maroon cloak, who must have been Theodotus, and another one wearing soldier’s armor, who Louise assumed had to be Achillas.

  “And what about your sister Arsinoe?” Pothinus asked. “Shall we take care of her as well?”

  “She is but a child,” Ptolemy responded, which was ironic being that he was no more than ten years old himself. “She is no threat to me now. I will deal with her when the time comes.” He once again burst into a fit of maniacal giggles, as though conspiring to murder his siblings was nothing but a funny game to him.

  “All hail King Ptolemy!” the men said in unison as Louise backed away from the door before she could be discovered and accused of eavesdropping. She hurried down the hall. She needed to warn Cleopatra about this plot on her life before it was too late! She was the only member of this family who took the responsibility of leading Egypt seriously. The people needed her.

  But first she needed to complete her duty and find Arsinoe. With the assistance of a few helpful palace guards, she finally found herself on the right path, arriving in front of a closed wooden door with a heavy bronze door knocker shaped like a lion’s head, which she was told was Arsinoe’s bedroom. Louise knocked once, but there was no response. The tall cedar door must have weighed a ton, and Louise had to push her whole body against it to get it to budge just enough for her to sneak inside. It was like trying to move a bulldozer.

  She walked in to find the young girl playing with a group of miniature handmade wooden dolls dressed in little brightly colored scraps of silk and linen fabric. Arsinoe was wearing a dyed indigo linen sheath dress with gold-embroidered trim and jeweled shoulder straps. Gold bangles stacked up her small arms, but this time she wasn’t wearing any necklaces, much to Louise’s disappointment.

  Her first impulse was to get down on the rug and start playing with the girl. She really needed a friend right about now, and Arsinoe probably wasn’t that much younger than Louise. She seems so sweet, Louise thought, thinking maybe she had misjudged her the other night. That is, until she noticed what the young girl was playing with her dolls. Arsinoe was staging a tiny war.

  “Take that, Cleopatra!” the intensely focused child yelled, clobbering one of the figurines and practically decapitating her in the process. “My army will destroy yours. I will be the most powerful ruler of the land. You and Ptolemy will have to answer to me!” The little girl was so intent on her violent game that she didn’t even realize Louise was standing in the room watching her from a few feet away.

  Louise cleared her throat, and a startled Arsinoe dropped the dolls and gave Charmian an icy-cold stare. “What do you want? Can’t you see that I’m busy?”

  “Cleopatra would like to see you in her chambers,” Louise replied.

  “No one tells me what to do!” Arsinoe replied haughtily.

  “She asked that I come fetch you at once,” Louise said more firmly, using the tone of voice she reserved for when the neighborhood kids she was babysitting wouldn’t go to bed.

  “I hate Cleopatra,” Arsinoe said in a sinister voice that led Louise to believe that she really meant it.

  “But she’s your sister,” Louise replied, shocked at how angry Arsinoe was for such a little kid.

  “So what?” The young girl gritted her teeth and stepped on the head of the doll with her leather slipper, splintering the toy into two jagged pieces. She nearly pushed Louise over as she stormed out of the room. Siblings like these made Louise happy to be an only child!

  It was the night of the dinner party with the famous Roman general, and all of the palace staff was rushing around to make sure that every gold-plated fixture and mother-of-pearl-studded doorknob was shining. After her stern talk with Arsinoe, Cleopatra had spent the remainder of the afternoon getting groomed and bathed with various sweet-smelling oils. Louise was once again relegated to brushing and braiding her many wigs. The chore seemed totally excessive considering the queen could wear only one at a time anyway. Meanwhile, another group of servants prepared several ceremonial dresses for the discerning ruler to choose from. These dresses were made of fine, beautifully dyed silk and were much tighter and more formfitting than the flowing pleated Greek- or Roman-style gowns. It would take several handmaidens to squeeze Cleopatra into whichever one she selected. They all had wide shoulder straps embellished with precious stones and shimmery gold embroidery holding them up.

  Shortly before
the general was due to arrive at the palace, Charmian was taken off wig duty and dispatched to the dining room with some of the other girls.

  The hallways were lit with flaming torches, which cast dancing shadows around the marble palace walls. There were platters overflowing with an abundance of fresh figs, dates, pomegranates, and almonds on every polished tabletop along the way, and Louise swiped a bunch of ripe purple grapes from one of the bountiful fruit baskets as she passed. She was starving. It seemed as though the only meal Charmian was ever offered was plate after plate of bony fish. Louise said a little prayer that these particular grapes weren’t poisoned before hungrily popping the juicy fruit into her mouth. Being by the sea and the Nile River seemed to limit the food options for the servants, at least. The royal family, on the other hand, had access to almost anything imaginable. Walking through this luxurious setup, it seemed impossible that there would soon to be a famine to contend with or that the country was deeply indebted to Rome.

  When they arrived at the dining hall, glowing magically with the light of hundreds of white candles in candelabras, Louise was once again handed a pitcher of water. The vessel was made of solid gold and extremely heavy. Louise sighed. It was probably going to be another long night. Still, she guessed she should consider herself lucky that she had not been promoted to Livia’s position as royal taster for this meal. Her job might be boring and uncomfortable, but at least it wasn’t going to kill her… yet.