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Normally, it took the majesty and stature of the Pharaoh herself for a single, individual uttered sentence to carry so much personal power.
But hey. Callie was just that good.
…maybe.
In point of fact, Callie was still trying to figure out whether she truly was or not.
"So you're not Octavian's spy?"
"What? No! No—I've been recording you so that I could… learn to be more like you."
The words—Cleo's, then her own—continued to breeze through Callie's mind, back and forth. Every time she thought she'd finally forgotten them, she'd hear them again. While doing work in class. While trying to daydream.
While trying to sleep at night.
Even now, as always when the words returned, Callie wondered—should she have said them out loud? Directly to the person who was supposed to be her most bitter rival, even?
The girl who'd been beating her out in everything for weeks? The girl who she was supposed to beat back? The girl who she was supposed to be showing her complete superiority over?
…
The girl who was curled up and resting on her lap right now, a pinnacle of beauty that made Callie herself feel utterly inferior in her presence?
Ugh.
Ugggggghhhhh.
Callie sighed, staring out the window of one of PYRAMID Academy's private study rooms—doors locked, and windows sent to tint, allowing her to view the outside world in horizon, while giving both girls much-needed privacy.
To think it would come to this. To think it would come to Callie allowing C-loser-patra, of all people, to nap on top of her, as they both rested on a beanbag where no one could see them.
It'd been a ritual for several days now. Way too many days. Possibly weeks.
And—Yosira help her—Callie was finally beginning to prefer this to the rivalry they normally shared.
When Cleopatra had first transferred to PYRAMID Academy, it was without fanfare, without intel, and without warning. But Callie hadn't cared when she'd finally heard the news.
Why would she? She was the best at everything. She always had been. She had her own clubs, she had her own posse, she had her own style that everyone at PYRAMID had tiresomely tried to imitate, but none had ever managed to duplicate.
And if that weren't enough, she had family connections, guaranteeing her the best resources, thus allowing her to continue being the best in the academy, complete with a fast track towards holding one of the most respected military positions in the Nile Galaxy.
Her life, socially, militarily, and politically, for all it mattered to anyone and everyone, was set. Cleopatra hadn't meant anything when she showed up.
For all of about two hours.
Then they'd actually met in class.
And not five minutes out from that first meeting, Cleo had started… doing things. Fighting. Talking. Sassing. Kicking butt. Drawing attention.
Attention that, slowly but surely, started being taken away from Callie. It was hard enough getting noticed at home. The Academy was the place where she was recognized, no, praised, for being herself. Praise from teachers, praise from high officials, praise from friends—
—fake friends who just hang around you because of your last name—
—shut UP
Of course she was going to give Cleo a hard time. Cleo had declared war on her life without even saying a word! Cleo's actions spoke for themselves, and they would continue speaking for themselves, and talking over Callie, if they weren't put in check.
The tl;dr: Cleo had to go.
Because Callie needed her life back.
And yet.
The whole time, Cleo hadn't cared about any of that.
To Cleo, Callie wasn't some respected last name. Callie wasn't a military shoo-in. Callie wasn't someone who Cleo needed around because it made their performance records look good.
To Cleo, Callie had merely been… "Callie".
Callie, that bully.
Callie, that girl who wouldn't leave her alone (good!).
Callie, that pain in the butt.
Callie, that… unexpected friend?
Callie looked down at Cleo, just in time to see the latter's ear twitch as she slept. Wow, she really was like a cat sometimes. She was surprised Cleo wasn't rubbing shoulders with the high tribunal along with Khensu—though to hear Khensu tell it, Cleo was an outright hazard around cats, not to be trusted for a second.
Definitely a sentiment Callie could empathize with.
For all the public knew, especially while in school, she and Cleo were still "enemies".
They'd snap at each other, taunt each other, do their best to out-flirt each other around the girls and boys they were into, compete in spars and mock battles with bared teeth, while showing not a single ounce of mercy.
And then there were times like this, when both of them just needed quiet from the rest of the day. From teachers, from mentors, from lessons.
From being twin overachievers in their fields.
From "hating each other".
"Hate" took energy. So much energy. In their rivalry, Cleo kept up with Callie, with Callie making sure to always up her game so nobody saw her working so hard just to keep up her superior image, even if both she and Cleo knew the truth.
Callie's mom, the pragmatic officer she was, had always drilled into Callie that in order to be the best, she needed to be at her best—and if she wasn't the best, then she was doing it wrong. She'd also said that if one weren't the best, then that was no one else's business.
So the rivalry kept going, tiring or not—so long as the coliseum of PYRAMID's public opinion existed.
Callie rolled her eyes, remembering one more thing her mom always told her: that Callie needed to bring home the best man, and sooner than later.
Because even destined war officers needed "stability" in life. Or some nonsense like that.
What if I brought Cleo home? Callie thought with an evil grin. I mean, she's clearly military officer material herself.
Callie looked down again, at the peaceful, cute little battleaxe on her lap.
"Hate" took so much energy.
Best to rest from it once in a while.
"Go ahead. Show it to everyone. Humiliate me. It's what I would do."
How would things have turned out if she hadn't said anything?
Even if Cleo had tried to accuse her of one of Octavian's spies (imagine!), her mom could have cleared things up with a simple rebuttal.
After a week of grilling at home, to be sure. Ew.
Why had she given up so easily? Why had she put her entire life in Cleopatra's hands?
And most importantly… why had Cleo handed it back?
Ugh. So many words, so many stupid thoughts, nagging at her, refusing to stop already! How. Had. She. Gotten here?
So much for getting any rest. Callie groaned, burying her head in her hands, doing her best not to cry, not from any sadness, but from not knowing how to feel about anything. She didn't like not knowing what to feel, or what to do. And right now was both.
"Mmmmm… Callie?" Callie heard her name being called just then.
Uh oh. She must have groaned a little too loudly. She quickly pushed her tears and fears down, taking a quick breath. "Oh. Sorry about waking you, or whatever."
"It's okay." With a another purring groan, Cleo shifted back and forth in Callie's lap, in an attempt to turn around to face her friend, and really Callie knew Cleo was just trying to be able to look at her but it was just like Cleo to not remember their positioning damn it all—
"Ugh, would you stop…" Callie bit her lip, sucking a deep breath upon feeling Cleo's body brush against her torso, do not moan do not exhale do not do not— "S-Stop moving around, you idiot!" she finally barked, her voice stuttering through shudders as she felt her whole body flush. "Remember where you are!"
"Oh, I totally know where I am." A soft moaning giggle escaped Cleopatra. "S'why I'm doing it. I mean, you could stop being so soft and fun to rest on. How about that?"
Callie made a show of dramatically glowering down at her frenemy. "Oh, is that all I am to you? A 'nice, soft pillow'?"
"Mmmm…" Cleo rested her head against Callie's chest with a too-wide grin. "…sometimes you're two?"
"Okay, I'm getting up now," Callie said, rolling her eyes. "Enjoy the floor."
"Kidding, I'm kidding!" Cleo laughed. "I mean, you are a nice pillow, but I can get those on my bed in my room." Cleo looked up, her smile morphing from mischievous to sincere. "What I can't get in my bed is the sweetest, kindest, prettiest girl in PYRAMID."
"Wha—" Callie started, right before Cleo darted up, pecking her on the lips.
If Callie had been flushing a minute ago, she was now a wide-eyed furnace who could barely catch her breath. "I-I mean, keep talking like that, and…" she finally managed, with a blush she could feel taking over her entire head.
Cleo giggled again. "Just as planned. You're really easy to lock up, you know. Kind of like Brian's computers—but with better hair," she said, batting at Callie's pink locks.
Callie gritted her teeth, her heart perfectly split between affection and annoyance. "You do know you're the worst, don't you?"
"That's what they all tell me." Cleo rolled back over again, and Callie could hear Cleo relax, back to her resting state. Callie relaxed in kind, running her finger through Cleo's hair.
Ugh, even her hair was perfect. Perfectly stupid. Just like the rest of Cleo—perfectly stupid, and perfectly annoying, and a perfect showoff, and a perfect… perfect…
…oh.
This was how she'd gotten here, wasn't it?
"I know what that's like," Callie whispered. "Don't worry, though. They're all wrong."
Cleo didn't answer, as she was already fast asleep once more.
"Thanks for saving me. I still kind of hate you, though."
"My pleasure! Kind of hate you too."
A single sentence. One from each girl. Pharoah-level power in both.
The words still hadn't left Callie. Their agreement, their code. Their disguised promise to watch out for each other… in more ways than one.
Definitely better than your standard rivalry. Anyone could do those. Anyone could keep a shallow grudge going. But Callie and Cleo answered to a higher calling, and always would.
Callie lay back and closed her eyes, her mind finally allowing her to drift into blissful slumber.