Song of the Nile Read Online Free PDF

masks of the Julian family ancestors would have been very strange indeed. Thus, with his palm at the small of my back, the emperor escorted me to the fleece-covered couch where my groom waited. Augustus liked to think of himself as the kindly paterfamilias to all the orphans he’d taken into his care, but my real father should be standing here now. Would Antony have hugged me in his muscular arms? Would he have stroked my shoulders to calm me, his eyes dancing playfully as he gave me to my bridegroom? I would never know. My father was dead, and the man who claimed his place was the very one who had put him in his tomb.
    At the feel of Juba’s warm hand upon mine, I finally turned my eyes to the man I was to marry. A young Berber prince, his dark hair was curled in the style of a scholar. He was meticulously groomed, each clasp on his clothing perfectly positioned, freshly polished, and tightly fastened. He was trim, vigorous, and vibrant; more than a few women sighed with jealousy that I’d been given over to the newly made king. I was acutely aware of Juba, right down to the ridges of his fingertips on my hand, and remembered a time when I’d been fond of him. When—in my girlish infatuation—I’d welcomed his attention. He’d been my teacher and confidant. I might have been fond of him still, if I didn’t know that Juba had helped the emperor defeat my parents. If only I didn’t know that Juba, in his own small way, had been responsible for all the tragedy in my life.
    The Romans had all manner of silly superstition against kings, so within the old walls of the pomerium , Juba couldn’t wear a royal diadem upon his brow. Without it, it was difficult for me to imagine him as royalty, but the copper flecks in his irises made his eyes something more than ordinary brown. I saw hints of anger there, and through clenched teeth he said the simple Roman vow of lives intertwined. “When and where you are Gaia, I then and there am Gaius.”
    Where you are woman, I am man. When you are happy, I am happy.
    It took a moment to find my voice. The officiant cleared his throat expectantly and I glanced up to see the emperor’s intense stare. I swallowed, a wild hope that my missing twin was somewhere here in the crowd, torch in hand, determined to set the entire courtyard aflame and spirit me away. It was only a fantasy. I would know it if Helios was near. I would sense him. He wasn’t here and I must marry Juba, so I forced myself to speak. “When and where you are Gaius, I then and there am Gaia.”
    Where you are man, I am woman. Where you are the father of a family, I am mother.
    As the words fell from my lips, the emperor nodded as if Juba were merely the conduit between us—and an arc of dangerous electricity sparked the air we breathed. Augustus had once looked upon me as a mere child, a hostage, a political asset. Later, he came to see my mother in me and wondered how he might manipulate me for his own glory. But he’d never looked at me the way he did now. Something was happening between us, something that hadn’t been a part of my plan, something that resonated with the darkest part of my soul. Something I was too young to understand and it made me deeply uneasy.
    A piece of wedding cake was offered me and I took it, the spelt flour dry in my throat. The contracts were signed. Then it was done; as I’ve said before, Roman weddings weren’t complicated affairs. Philadelphus was the first to embrace me. The rest of the family crowded round too. My Roman half sisters, the Antonias, my Roman half brother, Iullus, and my stepsister and stepbrother, Marcella and Marcellus. They’d all been my fellow orphans and childhood companions in Rome. When Octavia began to chastise me for my garb, it was the affable Marcellus who defended me against his mother’s wrath. “Selene’s gown is quite fashionable in the East, and she did wear a bridal wreath!”
    Juba stood stiffly beside me, wincing at the thump of Admiral