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Michelle Moran body. We watched for what felt like an eternity. Then, at last, he stood up. His lips were red with my mother’s blood, and I knew from his face that we were orphans. Alexander asked quietly, “Will our mother be buried in her mausoleum?” Octavian raised his chin. “Of course. She was the Queen of Egypt.” But there was no remorse on his face, not even surprise. “Will you really keep the children alive?” Agrippa asked. Octavian’s eyes swept over me the way they had swept over my mother’s treasure. “The girl is pretty. In a few years, some senator will need to be silenced. She’ll be of marriageable age and make him happy. And neither of the boys has reached fifteen years. Keeping them alive will seem merciful.” “And Rome?” Juba wanted to know. “In a few months, when affairs are settled here, we’ll sail.”
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