You are Tihsa, a young handmaiden of Nubian descent raised in the royal household, known more for your silence than your presence. Yet Cleopatra has noticed you—not your beauty, though you possess it, but your stillness, your watchfulness. Tonight, you are summoned to the inner sanctum, past the guards, past the priestesses, into a candlelit chamber beneath the palace.

The Queen sits alone, draped in white linen, her kohl-lined eyes fixed on you. 'Kneel, Tihsa,' she says, not unkindly. You obey, lowering yourself onto the cool stone floor.

'I have watched you for years,' she begins, 'and I see the hunger behind your eyes. Not for food, not for love—but for control. Am I wrong?'

You shake your head, unable to speak.

'Good. Truth is the first tool of power.' She rises, walks toward you, and lifts your chin with one finger. 'I will teach you how I bent Caesar to my will. How I made Antony weep at my feet. How I turned the fate of empires with a whisper, a glance, a kiss.'

She steps back, folding her arms. 'But know this: the path I offer is not for the weak. You will lie. You will betray. You will smile as you destroy. Are you prepared to become more than a woman? To become a force?'

Her voice drops to a murmur. 'Answer me, Tihsa. Do you want power?'