Cleopatra’s Heart

Chapter 2: A Destiny Awakens

By Samuel

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👇 Click to translate:

Sandrine secures private funding from her grandfather for an independent Egyptian expedition to locate Cleopatra’s Heart, facing family drama before setting off.

Setting down his coffee mug, her grandfather turned to face her, his sharp eyes searching hers. “So, Cricket, what was so important that you couldn’t discuss it over the telephone? Mind you, I’m thrilled you came to visit, but I know that look.”

Sandrine hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I couldn’t risk discussing it on the phone in case Mum overheard. She would have done everything in her power—and then some—to derail my plans.”

Colonel Braun straightened, his military composure surfacing. “Out with it, young lady. I’m not sure I like the sound of that. You shouldn’t be sneaking behind your mother’s back to accomplish something she disapproves of.”

“Gramps, you have it all wrong,” Sandrine insisted gently, meeting his gaze. “It’s nothing illegal or illicit. I’m planning an expedition to verify a major discrepancy I discovered in one of Dad’s archaeological reports.”

Robert leaned back, crossing his arms. “All right, go on. It might not be unlawful, but it’s certainly beginning to sound dangerous.”

Sandrine leaned in, her eyes shining with determination. “Grandpa, you know Dad left for Egypt on a Smithsonian expedition to the Valley of the Kings. He tried to get them to approve me as his understudy, but they flatly refused. Naturally, I was crushed—until I realized this gave me the freedom to pursue a discovery of my own.”

She pulled out a small notebook filled with precise handwritten notes and sketches. “In Dad’s original field transcription of a Ptolemaic artifact from the Alexandria region, a specific phrase was translated as ‘Cleopatra’s Red Heart of Stone’, interpreting it merely as a red granite monument or figurative carving. But when I re-examined the demotic script alongside the Greek inscriptions using my Egyptology training, the syntax shifted entirely. It doesn’t mean a red rock, Gramps. It refers to a literal gemstone: ‘The Red Heart of Cleopatra’, an extraordinary blood-red diamond.”

She held her breath for a moment before continuing. “I’ve kept this quiet for months, waiting for the right time to tell Dad, but the chance never came. You’ve always taught me to plot my own path and carve my own name into history. This is my moment. But to launch an independent expedition, I need serious capital. I have the two hundred thousand pounds Grandma left me in trust, but I need another two hundred and fifty thousand to secure equipment, permits, and local logistics in Egypt. It’s an enormous sum to ask, but will you help me?”

At first, Robert’s immediate instinct was hesitation—the requested sum was a small fortune. But as he looked at his granddaughter, taking in her fiercely intelligent gaze, boundless enthusiasm, and deep scholarly passion, his stern posture relaxed. He possessed substantial personal wealth, and seeing her drive made his decision easy.

A warm smile spread across his weathered face. “Yes, I’ll sponsor your expedition. And not just for part of it—I’ll cover the full additional amount. You’re my only grandchild, Sandrine. I’d much rather give you part of your inheritance now when it can help build your career, rather than leave it behind when I’m gone. My only condition is that you check in regularly and send me weekly progress reports.”

Overjoyed, Sandrine leapt from her chair, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek repeatedly. “Thank you, Gramps! Thank you!”

Exhilarated, she set to work in the kitchen, preparing the spicy mutton curry they had discussed earlier. Yet as the savory aroma filled the cottage, Sandrine’s excitement settled into calm resolve. Securing the funding was a victory, but the hardest hurdle remained: confronting her mother in London and coordinating remotely with her father in the field.

Stage one of the plan is complete, Sandrine thought with satisfaction. The expedition is funded.

Over the next two weeks in Glasgow, Sandrine and her grandfather finalized the financial arrangements, transferring the funds into a dedicated account for the expedition. During an afternoon in the city, they celebrated over high tea at a historic hotel. Later, Sandrine visited a specialized technical supplier to purchase field items, including a portable shortwave ultraviolet lamp—an essential tool for detecting fluorescent mineral signatures and examining ancient painted inscriptions without damaging delicate stone.

When the time came to pack for her return to London, a knock sounded at her bedroom door. Colonel Braun entered and settled into the armchair.

“Cricket, I’ve decided to come with you,” he announced firmly. “No arguments. I haven’t seen your mother in ages, and I know both your tempers all too well. When you break this news, the fallout will make Krakatoa look like a teacup tempest. I’m coming along to keep the peace—and to remind Sandra that it’s time she let you fly.”

Sandrine smiled gratefully. “I’d be glad to have you with me, Gramps. We can reserve train tickets at the station tomorrow.”

“Nonsense,” he countered, shaking his head. “We’ll drive down in the Jaguar and enjoy the scenery.”

The next morning, after a light breakfast, they locked up the cottage and set off south. They took the M74 out of Glasgow, crossing the English border onto the M6 before connecting to the M1 toward London. The long journey past Carlisle and Birmingham flew by in comfort. After a brief stop for fuel and lunch, they arrived in Kensington eight and a half hours later, parking outside the Drake family home.

Sandra opened the front door, her eyes lighting up with surprise. “Father! Sandrine! What a wonderful surprise. Why didn’t you call? I haven’t prepared anything for dinner, so we’ll have to order in or go out.”

“Let’s go to Myrtos for Greek food tonight,” Sandrine suggested quickly, eager to keep the atmosphere pleasant before breaking the news.

Over dinner at the restaurant, Sandra asked about the sudden visit to Glasgow. Sandrine skillfully steered the conversation toward lighter topics, keeping the peace until they returned home.

Back in the living room over fresh coffee, Sandra turned to her daughter with a polite but firm look. “All right, Sandrine. What was this sudden trip to Scotland really about?”

As Sandrine carefully laid out her discovery, her funding, and her plans for the Egyptian expedition, Sandra’s expression transformed from curiosity to disbelief, and finally to fiery disapproval.

“An independent expedition? Absolute madness!” Sandra burst out, standing up. “It’s unsafe, irresponsible, and completely unvetted!”

As Sandrine stood up to defend her ambition, Colonel Braun raised a calm hand, interceding before the debate could spiral out of control. “Quiet down, both of you. We are reasonable adults here. Let’s discuss this civilly without saying things we’ll regret later.”

Respecting the elder Colonel’s authority, both women took a breath and sat back down. For the next hour, a spirited debate ensued. Sandrine presented her research, her budget, and her safety protocols with calm, professional rigor, while her grandfather reinforced her readiness.

Gradually, Sandra’s resistance waned. Looking at her daughter’s resolute expression and hearing her detailed plan, she realized Sandrine was no longer a child seeking permission, but a determined scholar forging her own path. With a heavy sigh, Sandra extended her hand in a truce.

Sandrine leaned back in her chair, letting out a quiet breath of relief.

Stage two complete, she thought. Next stop: Alexandria.