How quickly the very mention of Caesar caused the seemingly youthful woman to coil in a cold-hearted fury like the serpents that history so associated with her. A hint of intrigue crossed his masculine features, the once Egyptian Queen speaking with a vehemence of the men who had brought the flight of her beloved Caesar, her first but certainly not only love. Her fair features turned with purpose towards the garden that she had surrounded herself with, her fingers caressing the delicate petal of a flower to gain a moment's reprieve. Her attentiveness to her chosen flower hardly lasted long, however, before the weight of her gaze turned abruptly back towards him and the oceanic hue of his irises. How resolute the Macedonian King remained! He made little effort to back down when confronted with the near commanding aura of Cleopatra. How many rulers he had met in his infinite lifetime, she believed herself as preeminent as the rest had and yet...what was a Queen in comparison to a God? Alexander was aware of how she so seemingly searched his features for answers to questions she would not find. Instead, however, her attention turned to the ring that adorned his finger - one of the few objects he still wore of a life long since lost to time.
Alexander saw little reason to deny his knowledge of the insignia impressed upon the gold ring he wore. They both knew well of whom it represented. A soft chuckle reverberated upon his lips as Alexander agreed that most mortal men who strove for godhood fell as easily as her beloved. It was true - multitudes had striven to compare to Alexander himself and all had fallen so dramatically short of what the conqueror had accomplished within the mere ten years he was given as King. There were, however, some...like them...who rose beyond mortality to become something far, far greater. He watched as her fair features betrayed a glimpse of surprise, those words slowly sinking in as she began to comprehend that which he so vaguely alluded to. Nevertheless, Alexander continued with little more than a brief pause, the Dark Hunter apologizing for her loss, as was the modern custom, as well as insisting he would have liked to have met Caesar. Whether or not he would have gotten along with the ambitious man was another matter entirely, of course. Few men, after all, lived up to the standards of what he set as an appropriate Monarch. In all likelihood, the Hunter would have taken it upon himself to topple Cesar's government, take over his lands, and perhaps keep him as a worthy subordinate but...such thoughts were hardly worth mentioning for the Roman's grieving lover.
The soft, delicate tones of her soprano voice drew the Greek's gaze back towards her, a small hint of a simper toyed at the far corners of his features, even if the smile failed to truly grace those irises that so reflected the color of the Aegean sea. He watched as that refined facade once again so effortlessly slid into place, that brief glimpse behind it one he doubted he would see again soon. He had garnered a brief passing moment to witness the true woman she was and how it so interested the conqueror of conquerors. Several moments of silence persisted between the pair, though Alexander made no effort to break it as of yet. Rather, it was the gentle comment upon her lips that prompted a chuckle from the King. "You are not the first to say that...though I am sure many would say the same of you." How aware he was of the inquiries that so seemed to fill her very mind - though even this too was somewhat commonplace when Alexander first revealed the truth of his identity. He was distinctly used to those questions by now, over the centuries, so many of them the same.
It was the simple comment of being royalty without a crown, so to speak, that prompted Alexander's shoulders to lift within a vague shrug. He had, admittedly, spent far more of his life as a warrior then a King, by now, even if those airs of a Monarch had never once left the Macedonian. He was hardly surprised by the story Cleopatra insisted she desire to hear, this one hardly as enthralling as Alexander anticipated she might have hoped it would be. It was the mention of his temple, however, that intrigued him. For all the years he had spent, it was the one place he had never once visited. Time itself had lost it, at least to his knowledge and now Alexander found himself inquisitive of the place that Cleopatra had seemingly spent a great deal of her time. "I will tell you what you ask, and in return you must tell me of this...temple." Alexander answered, his brow rising ever so slightly in the process. The Dark Hunter was hardly oblivious to the soft laughter on her lips, nor the way her fair features seem to brighten for the first time at her own amusement of the predicament she found herself within. Still, he allowed himself to be guided further into the depths of her gardens, the pavilion she chose wholly reflective of the time in which the pair hailed from. How much it reminded him of his own beloved Greece and the palace he'd spent a great deal of his childhood within. Nevertheless, Alexander settled on an overly plush nearby chair, the bright blue-green of his gaze fluttered towards the stables and pastures that extended beyond and into the distance. The estate was...truly vast, far larger then even the home his grandson occupied and yet Alexander hardly bothered to query how she had come across such piece of land in the heart if the city. Money, he supposed, could buy a great deal of things.
"The answer is quite simple, when I awoke from being turned, I was no longer in Bablyon but a week's ride east. I tried to return, despite my maker's warnings but....back then newly turned hunters were....a commodity for the supernatural. I could take down armies of Persians then but I did not know how to fight a starving vampire or a pack of frenzied were-cheetahs. I had planned to learn of the supernatural from my maker and then return but....my empire fell before I could and well...Ramses has a tendency of...stopping me from reclaiming Macedonia." His shoulders shrugged, the Dark Hunter skipping over a majority of those finer details. Perhaps, one day, he might indulge her with far more meticulously woven tales but...at the present moment, the Dark Hunter was still judging if this would be a sporadic encounter or if the Gods had delivered him Cleopatra for a far more worthwhile reason.