The Macedonian King was well aware of the intensity of his scrutiny, those blue-green eyes took in every minute detail of the pavilion and the woman sprawled across the cushioned daybed like the very Queen she once was. He was aware of the way her fingers crept up against her caramel thighs, hidden beneath the folds of gossamer layers of fabric. The dark hue of her irises slowly turned away from him, only to focus off in the distance as if she was searching for something she expected to see and yet, though Cleopatra's attention was momentarily distracted, Alexander was certain she was entirely aware of his every movement. The Greek remained poised in his placidity sipping the richness of the Gretian wine within his glass as a rare silence befall the couple. Despite Cleopatra's composure, there was little doubt her mind still churned with questions yet to be voiced. Few, after all, learned of Alexander's identity only to fall to silence. It was short lived, however, quite as he anticipated, before Cleopatra inquired if he might be willing to entertain a hypothetical. This was, apparently, quite unusual for the Egyptian woman to consider - those idle deliberations on how her life might have unfolded differently if another choice had been made. She was...lucky to be able to face the world with such undaunted pride. Though Alexander appeared little more then the epitome of egotistical, a millennium had been long enough for the Dark Hunter to gather his own menagerie of regrets.

That frown that had crossed his features was fleeting, though it's origin had distinctly little to do with whatever speculative situation Cleopatra had to present him with. His gaze traced the woman's outline, Cleopatra nothing if not tantalizingly enjoyable to observe and yet, eventually, Alexander's head bobbed with a short worded agreement. He brought his glass to his lips, the oceanic hue of his irises steadfast upon her as he awaited her to voice her thoughts. The Dark Hunter's brow rose with a vague hint of inquisitiveness as Cleopatra alluded again to the myriad of secrets the pair had shared in gilded corridors of a land long past. He said little in return, however, the Conqueror hardly one to pry words from a woman's lips so much as bide his time with the utmost patience. The unique shade of his blue-green gaze remained stationary upon her, even as he rose his wine glass to his lips. Cleopatra hardly required much coaxing to continue, only to begin to speak of a time long past in which she had ruled Egypt as it's Queen. He had heard accounts, naturally, of her years at the head of the country that had once belonged to him. Though she was a Monarch greatly loved, her rule was not without its fair share of...strife...of sorts. A Queen, after all, without a proper King was destined to fall.

Alexander was hardly surprised to hear of her sibling's desire to take the throne for himself. What brother would not vye diligently for such a position? The detest within Cleopatra's voice was clear as she spoke of her brother's advisors. They were the instigators of such a move upon the Egyptian throne - such an act of the nobility was hardly new, they were keen to grasp at even the barest glimpses of power in any way they might. Still, Alexander remained silent and attentive as Cleopatra spoke of the matters that had pulled her away from her Kingdom, a selfless desire to see Egypt thrive. History alone told Alexander what came next - Cleopatra had seduced the Roman Emperor and with his hand nestled within hers, returned the derelict Queen to her throne before holding a salacious affair that hardly lasted longer than a few years before Rome's Emperor fell to the very same people that so dearly loved him. Still, it hardly provided him with little notion of where her thoughts lingered. What of such an event would she have done differently? She had spoken fondly of Cesar, as if she had truly loved the man.

....or had she? The inquiry lingered within his mind as Cleopatra admitted that while she hadn't regretted the choices she had made...even she had dared to wonder if there was another path ripe for her taking, one that would have led to Alexander himself, if the Dark Hunter dared to fill in those blanks. Alexander placed his own wine glass down upon the table directly beside him, that question one he knew was coming and yet, he forced it from her lips all the same. There was a certain confidence that radiated from the woman, even as she sought his good graces in her theoretical scenario. A small simper toyed with his features as her attention turned so astutely towards him. "Truly Cleopatra, you should know well the answer to that." He commented with a raised brow. His hands folded neatly within his lap as Alexander shifted comfortably within the plush chair he sat within. "Of course I would have..but...I would have been of little assistance to you at the time...comparatively." He admitted with, perhaps a touch of bitterness. "I did not have any army of my own at the time, I was in China watching dynasties rise and fall while hunting the undead that were ravishing their lands. It would have taken you years to find me, and longer still for an army to be raised to retake your throne. Caesar was...convenient." So too was it likely better for Cleopatra herself. Alexander, after all, was not one to turn over a throne to be second to a woman, He would have taken it entirely for himself, regained his position as Pharaoh, freed Macedonia, and ravished Rome. How different the world itself would be if Cleopatra had found him then - her precious Caesar would have died with dignity at the tip of his sword at the stead. Still, would that have truly been better? Was that what she would have truly wanted? IT was a question that Alexander could not allow to go unanswered, the oceanic hue of his gaze remained unwavering upon her as he queried, "Would you truly have rathered me instead, Cleopatra? I would have killed both of your lovers."