Hand of Isis by Jo Graham

addressed as “Lady” before. But then I had never before been principal handmaiden to the heir to the throne of Egypt.
    I went and found Iras, where she and Cleopatra were investigating the bath chamber.
    “Of course we can still use the main palace one,” Cleopatra said, looking round the pool with satisfaction. “And we’ll probably want to for hot water. But it’s nice to have, isn’t it?”
    “Iras,” I said urgently, “did you know that we’re the principal handmaidens to the heir to the throne and have charge of all her things and household?”
    Iras blinked at me.
    Cleopatra laughed, splashing one hand in the water of the pool. She looked incredibly happy to be home. “Who else would be in charge of my household?” she asked. “Apollodorus is my Major Domo and you and Iras have charge of my rooms and my things. Who else should I trust besides you?”
    “We’re fourteen!” I said.
    At exactly the same moment Iras said, “But what about our studies?”
    Cleopatra put her damp hand on Iras’ shoulder. “I thought you’d want to have lessons with me like you used to. But if you’d rather go to one of the symposia, I don’t see why you shouldn’t.”
    “How will we have time for that when we’re running your household?” I asked, thinking of all the work involved in two sets of bed linens and the modest clothes we’d had in Bubastis. There were four beds now, fifteen windows, three dining couches, and the gods knew what else.
    “Well, there are twelve slaves to help you, aren’t there?” Cleopatra said. “I mean, you’re in charge, but it’s not as though I think you’re going to do the wash yourself.”
    “Go to the symposia?” Iras looked as though someone had just shoved a sticky pastry into her mouth and she was trying to swallow it all at once.
    Cleopatra nodded. “I wish I could, but Father says it’s too dangerous. I can send for any scholars you recommend, though, for private lectures and lessons. You could pick out anyone you want who lectures two or three times a week and go, or go to discourses at the Library or experiments at the Museum, whatever you want. But if it’s really interesting, I want you to let me know so I can learn it too. Father’s got two or three people lined up already to teach me geography, literature, and rhetoric. And of course I’ll be going on with Aramaic.” She looked at me. “You can join me if you like, or not. I know Iras doesn’t want Aramaic.”
    “I do,” I said. I grinned. “I don’t suppose that means Dion.”
    “I don’t see any reason to change tutors,” Cleopatra said loftily, but there was a gleam in her eye.
    I looked around the spacious rooms. They had belonged to Tryphaena before, when we were children. I suspected she was murdered here, though I really didn’t want to know exactly where. Everything was clean and light and airy, and so very big. Twelve slaves. Food tasters, laundresses, bath attendants, cooks, and carpet cleaners. “How in the world am I going to learn how to run a household like this?” I said.
    Cleopatra met my eyes. “The same way I’m going to learn to be a queen. We have to grow up, Charmian.”
    I nodded.
    She looked at Iras. “And when I’m Queen, you will handle my correspondence and keep my purse, all of the diplomatic correspondence, and all of the money the Royal Household spends. Charmian will run the palace, all of the slaves and entertainments and banquets, all of the audiences and festival clothes and progresses, and the Royal Nursery.”
    “Oh sweet Isis!” I said.
    She put one arm around each of us and drew us close. “You are my sisters,” she whispered. “You’re the ones I trust. If we are the Hands of Isis, I need you. To make everything we said become true. It’s what you were born for.”
    T HUS WE BEGAN a new life. My apprenticeship had really begun in Bubastis, but now I had to take it up in earnest. That first night, as Iras and I sat in our beautiful new room, she