First light
The sun broke through the palm leaves. Dew glistened on the grass, and the air was fresh. The oasis awoke.
Cleopatra slowly sat up. She stretched her arms, yawned, then opened her eyes. A smile touched her lips—the kind she wore only when she felt safe.
I sat by the pool, still holding the knife though there was nothing left to fight. I had not closed my eyes all night.
"Mehet," she said sleepily, "you didn't sleep again."
"Someone had to keep watch," I answered quietly.
---
Questions
She sat straighter, studying my face. "Something happened. I can see it. You look… different than yesterday."
I said nothing.
She came closer, her hair loose, her eyes sharp with curiosity. "Mehet, I'm not a child anymore. I felt it—the night in the oasis was strange. As if something more than wind was here. What was it?"
"Perhaps a trial from the gods," I said. "Or just the desert, which likes to frighten."
Cleopatra frowned. "That's not an answer. Tell me everything."
---
Silence
I wanted to. I wanted to tell her the truth—that I fought a shadow, that I felt the weight of the spear and the edge of death.
But no. She was a princess. She deserved sleep, not burdens that belonged to me.
"Some things belong to the night," I said at last. "And the day has no need to know them."
---
Her anger
She was silent for a long time, then spoke. "Do you know what makes me angry? That you always keep me aside. You stand between me and the world. You are my shield, but sometimes I want you to just be… Mehet. To laugh, to tell me what hurts, to be more than only my protector."
Her words cut deep. Yes, I was her shield. But I was also her teacher, her friend, her shadow. And in my heart—more. But that more could never be spoken.
---
Inside me
I love you. But I must never say it. Never. If I spoke the truth, everything would fall apart. So I keep silent. So I carry this weight alone. Better to be your shadow than a flame that would burn you.
---
Her smile
She touched my hand. "Even when you say nothing, I know you're here. And that's enough."
Then she smiled, leapt to her feet, and ran to the water. She laughed, splashing, as if no shadows had ever existed.
I remained seated, knife in my lap, heart heavy. She was life. I was shadow. And a shadow lives only so long as it follows a light that will never be its own.
Her insistence
I still sat by the water, hands tense, my mind alert though my body could barely endure. She returned to me, drops of water still clinging to her cheeks, her hair damp and heavy.
"Mehet," she said softly, "rest. I can see you haven't slept. Enough now."
"I cannot," I answered. "Someone must keep watch."
She shook her head and sat beside me. "You have watched over me my whole life. Now let me, just once, watch over you."
---
Giving in
I wanted to protest, but her voice was firm, yet gentle. Weariness pulled me down, my eyelids burned. At last, I allowed myself to yield.
I lay down, resting my head on her thighs. Warmth and softness met me there. Her fingers slid through my hair, slow and soothing.
"Close your eyes," she whispered. "Just for a while. No one will find us here. It's only the two of us."
Her voice was calm, like a lullaby.
---
Her question
For a time she was silent. Then her words came: "Mehet… tell me the truth. What happened last night?"
Tension returned to my body. "You don't need to know."
"I do," she pressed. "All my life you've told me the truth. Don't start lying now. If you can bear it, so can I."
---
The truth
I drew a long breath. I could not keep silent any longer.
"A shadow warrior came," I said slowly. "Not a man. A trial. He carried shield and spear. If I had fought with strength, I would not be here now. I had to use my mind. I turned the sand and water against him. At last, I held my knife to his throat… and then he dissolved into sand."
I looked up at her. Her eyes were wide, not with fear, but wonder.
---
Her response
"The gods are testing you," she whispered. "And you endure their trials."
Her hand lingered in my hair, stroking gently, the way I once soothed her when she was still a child. "Promise me one thing. Never hide from me again. If you must carry such burdens, let me carry them too."
Her words cut and healed at once. She would never know the full truth of my heart, but this moment was more than I ever dreamed to have.
---
Rest
"Now sleep," she whispered. "While we still have peace. I will keep watch for you."
I closed my eyes. Her hand remained in my hair, her breath warm above me. And for the first time in a long while, I let my body release its grip on wakefulness.
I knew that when I awoke, the desert and its trials would wait for us again. But in this moment, I had peace. Peace she gave me.
And I slept.