From this moment on, Cleopatra is no longer a name in history—she is who I am.

True hunters know that taming a beast is a greater triumph than killing it.

Only when a goddess steps down from on high can she hear the cries rising from the earth.

Let no more blood be spilled for one crown alone.

In exile, you raise a royal banner of your own, with your own hands.

Rome may witness the coronation, but the crown must be placed by your own hand.

Enjoy your victory, Your Majesty—while it lasts.

To Ian, Sirius is the brightest, the most beautiful, and forever beyond reach... just like you.

Antony is willing to become the blade in your hand—if you are strong enough to wield him.

A bloodless triumph earns you a solemn toast from Julius Caesar.

Octavian admires the way you bend a crisis to your will—and begins to see you as someone to be reckoned with.