Cleopatras eyes roamed down my body and starred at the tattoos on my skin.
"Rather odd engravings, which dynasty do you come from?" She asked.
Oh fuck.
Before I could even try to form a sentence the older servant stood up to speak. "My kind Pharaoh, he has travelled far from here. From the tears of his silks and the dirt on his back, I come to believe he was wiped during a sand storm." She said.
Cleo gasped and waved at her guards to help her off the throne. "Oh you poor thing, you shall stay the night until you have come back to health."
I nodded, being that that was the only thing I could do in this situation. The thought of travelling back in time back home was far from my mind as I was greeted with many platters of meat and fruit. Looking over at the pharaoh she motion for me to dig in.
That I did, taking pieces of fruit from the platter, many I had never seen before but they tasted delicious. The meat looked rather dry so I didn't care to touch it.
I filled my stomach with fruit and wine, not knowing when I would eat next.
Suddenly drums started playing, followed by flutes and harps. The guards caught everyone's attention as they dragged in the woman from earlier. She was now in royal- wear. Not an ounce of modesty in the robes that touch her skin. The deep slits in her skirt paved her bodies curves. The top half of the material cupped both her breasts to which they remained still and perky on her chest.
"Dance." The guard demanded throwing her towards the fire as she stumbled to balance on her feet.
They graced her body with the finest silks, jewels and cuffs yet treated her so badly. As if this was her fate, she danced and danced. Her slim thick body moving in the ways of the Egyptians, her waist lead the way, her arms following along with the movement adding to the graceful yet bittersweet performance.
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It was nothing like what they do in my time. Dancing aimlessly to impress, shaking and grinding against one another. Here it was a sequence of countered moved that seemed to live in the body of any beautiful Egyptian woman.
The eyes of hungry kings stared her down. The fire she danced around darkened her luscious skin even more. I'm sure her feet were burnt and blistered.
The drums prompted her movements quicker as she sped up to the tempo of the make-shift music. The people threw coins to her feet. One of the servants handed me a heavy pouch filled with the gold coins. I looked at the theiving beauty as her vivid eyes starred into my soul, daring me to treat her like how they do.
I dropped the bag to my side, lowering my eyes from her.
I was the cause for her enslavement. In the past reality she may have roamed free and ran away to a city far from here.
