How that bangle had glistened within the dim light of the sewers that fateful night - she had disappeared into the darkness with a clutter of chiffon fabric, leaving naught but an aromatic hint within her wake. That subtleness had been poignant in the dankness of the sewers, punctuating the awful smells that had surrounded the Hunter as he had so inquisitively reached for the aged piece of jewelry. It was...an intriguing piece, though the low light had stopped him from truly being able to study it till much later in the evening. It was only once Alexander had retreated to the comfortable privacy of his own flat, the snake's death reported and the Hunter sufficiently showered, that he had allowed himself to truly inspect the bracelet he'd found. His fingers roved attentively over the golden material as he laid in bed that night, his gaze eying each of the hieroglyphics engraved into the piece. It was distinctly well taken care of, the bracelet holding a weight to it that seemed to suggest that golden hue was not a mere veneer. Even so, it was rare to see the ancient alphabet utilized in such a way that those symbols made sense. How long had it been since he'd read ancient Egyptian? Even so, those symbols and words returned to him with striking ease, that infinitely long memory had its occasional benefit. Still, it was the inscription on the inside that truly caught his interest. Cleopatra and Julius.
Admittedly, both names had once hit the height of popularity centuries ago, his own sibling sharing the namesake of Cleopatra. However, distinctly few had ever been as noteworthy to have made history with a lover of Julius. The female Pharoah was, in this way, entirely unique. The very last ruler of the dynasty that Alexander himself had once begun. It had taken him far longer than he wished to admit to drag up every memory he held of the woman - every article or debriefing he'd read of her, every picture and portrait he'd ever seen, every whispered rumor. How few were able to compare perfectly to the woman he had met...and yet by the same token so few of his own portraits accurately were able to portray the Macedonian King either. For some time, Alexander simply sat on those suspicions of the young woman he'd met that night in the sewers. Her bangle remained upon his bedside table as those days slipped onto weeks and then, in turn, months. Life with the cavalry, his trip to Mongolia to win the coveted Mongol Derby, and his involvement with Matteo's family had, for some time, largely preoccupied the near ancient hunter.
He had hardly forgotten, however, the Macedonian utilizing his own 'adopted' son's future sight to locate the woman with minimal effort upon his part, albeit the incessant teasing Matteo was capable of when it suited his fancy. In the end, however, on an overcast afternoon in the midst of a pandemic, Alexander found himself sitting in the driveway of a mansion in the North that he must have driven by at least a dozen times on the way to his godson's. The estate had a distinctly Mediterranean air about it, that alone the only unique aspect to set it apart from the dozens of others, at least from the front exterior. The bracelet sat in a small box beside him on the passenger seat, cleaned from the muck it had fallen into in the depths of the sewer. For a moment, he lingered there within the comfort of that black Bently, the Monarch getting accustomed to that space before he stepped a foot towards the door. Some military habits, after all, died hard. Nevertheless, eventually, the Dark Hunter stepped from his sedan. His gait was entirely lackadaisical as he made his way towards the front door. His hand reached up, knocking lightly on the solid oak door, his other hand settled comfortably within his pocket where the boxed bangle laid. For a man last seen hunting in the sewers, Alexander certainly cleaned up nicely. It wasn't often, after all, that the ancient warlord was given a chance to be entertained by a fellow Pharoah, particularly when he knew well the line she had so hailed from. How very curious his afternoon was about to be.