The Princess of Egypt Must Die by Stephanie Dray Read Free Book Online

heroine of Cleopatra Selene, another Egyptian princess who is the stars in my award-winning historical fantasy series based on the truth life story of Cleopatra’s daughter. LILY OF THE NILE, the full length-novel that started the series is available in all bookstores and e-book retailers but you can start reading it now by turning the page.
     

LILY OF THE NILE
     

Chapter One
     
    Something coiled dangerously within the basket I carried, but I’d been told not to open the lid nor to ask what lurked beneath its woven reeds. The basket smelled of comforting cedar and lush figs, but it was embroidered with emblems of Anubis—the jackal-headed Guide of the Dead.
    Anubis was a kind god, so I should have taken solace, but seeing him only magnified my sense of dread. Since we’d lost the war, Alexandria was quiet and filled with ill omens.
    I had once been the safest child in Egypt, but the world held terrors everywhere for me now, and the twisting motion in the basket convinced me that I held treachery in my arms. I came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the avenue, beneath a marble colonnade that cast dusk shadows over the silent street. “I don’t want to carry the basket anymore,” I said.
    “Sometimes we have to do what we don’t want to, Princess Selene,” our royal tutor said, daring to nudge me forward with his divination staff. That he’d poked me offended my royal dignity, but I knew better than to chastise Euphronius, for the old wizard was unusually anxious that day. The metallic scent of dark magic clung to his white linen kilt and wafted behind him as he hurried us along. He kept glancing back at the Roman guards who accompanied us at a barely respectful distance, and even though the sun was low and the evening cool, perspiration glistened on his bald head.
    Euphronius lifted my littlest brother, Philadelphus, into his arms and urged us to walk faster. “Let’s hurry before Octavian changes his mind about letting you see your mother.”
    I tried to keep pace, but the basket was unbearably heavy and my silvered sandal caught on the hem of my pearl-beaded gown. I heard the fabric tear but managed to regain my footing, albeit with a complaint. “I could walk faster if a servant carried the basket. Why should I have to?”
    After all, I wasn’t just a princess of Egypt. Wasn’t I also queen of all Cyrenaica and Libya? I wore a royal diadem embroidered with pearls upon my brow. Why should I carry anything for myself much less something that frightened me?
    “I’ll carry it for you,” my twin brother offered.
    But Euphronius waved Helios away. “Princess Selene, your mother wanted you to bring the basket as an offering to your father. Will you dishonor Lord Antony by failing to provide for what remains of his soul in this world?”
    Our wizard needn’t have used the blunt cudgel of guilt; the reminder that my mother had commanded me was enough to make me obey, but his mention of my dead father plunged me into a grief-stricken silence. My poor, disgraced father .
    I first met him when I was four years old. He’d worn a sword on his belt, a tall horsehair-crested helmet, and sculpted armor beneath a bloodred cape; he’d terrified me. When his studded military sandals first thundered on the marbled floors, I’d cowered and cried. My mother had scooped me into her arms and told me not to fear, for my father had gifts for me and my twin, and a marriage proposal for her. The Romans were our friends and protected us, she had said.
    But now I knew she had lied.
    When the real Romans came—for that’s what Octavian’s men called themselves—they came to conquer. When the real Romans came, not even my father with his mighty sword could protect us, and unable to live with this failure, he plunged that mighty sword into his stalwart heart.
    Now, without him, everything was crumbling. Our palace was overrun by enemy soldiers, my two oldest brothers were missing, and my mother was a captive. All I could do