Ptolemy XIII Drowned Running From His Sister

"Cleopatra didn’t even kill him. He just… fell into the Nile and died."

Alice daintily sips her tea, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh, my darlings, some people just do not know how to make a dignified exit. Some kings go down in a blaze of glory, some are taken out by their enemies in dramatic betrayal…

And then there’s Ptolemy XIII.

This boy really said, ‘I am the rightful king of Egypt!’—and then fell into a river and drowned.

Tragic? Yes.
Dramatic? Absolutely.
Embarrassing? Oh, unbelievably.”

She leans forward, whispering conspiratorially.

“And the best part? Cleopatra didn’t even have to lift a finger.”

Sibling Rivalry, but Make It Royal

Now, Ptolemy XIII wasn’t just some guy. He was Cleopatra’s little brother—and, because the Ptolemies were absolute messes, he was also her husband (gross, I know). But the real tea?

Cleopatra was way smarter, way more capable, and way more of a queen than Ptolemy could ever be.

But, alas, the men of ancient Egypt weren’t ready for a woman who actually knew what she was doing. So, the advisors propped up her 13-year-old brother-husband as king and booted Cleopatra out of Alexandria.

Alice sighs, shaking her head.

“Now, what do we say to the men who try to take power away from capable women?”

She raises her teacup.

‘Good luck, sweetheart. You’re going to need it.’

Because Cleopatra? She was not about to let this toddler tyrant keep her throne.”

Enter: Julius Caesar

So, Cleopatra, being an absolute mastermind, decided to charm the most powerful man in Rome—Julius Caesar himself.

And oh, did she know how to make an entrance.

Alice gestures grandly.

“She rolled herself up in a carpet, had her servants smuggle her into Caesar’s palace, and when they unrolled it?

Boom. Cleopatra. In all her regal, dramatic glory.”

Caesar? Enchanted. Hooked. Completely wrapped around her finger.

And Ptolemy XIII? Losing his absolute mind.

Because suddenly, his big sister wasn’t just back in the game—she was playing at a level he could never hope to reach.”

The War of the Siblings

Alice sets her cup down, eyes glinting.

“So naturally, Ptolemy, being a petty little gremlin, tried to fight back.

And by that, I mean he started an actual war.

Did he have the military strategy to win? No.
Did he have the charisma to outmaneuver Cleopatra? Absolutely not.
Did he try anyway? Oh, you know he did.”

Alice chuckles.

“Long story short? Cleopatra and Caesar’s combined forces absolutely crushed him. Alexandria fell. The war was over. And Ptolemy?

He did what all overdramatic sore losers do when they realize they’ve lost.

He ran for his life.”

How to Die Embarrassingly, a Guide by Ptolemy XIII

Alice leans in, voice hushed.

“This is the best part.

Instead of surrendering with a shred of dignity, instead of making a noble last stand, Ptolemy XIII did what any reasonable teenage king would do:

He jumped into the Nile and tried to swim away.

Now, let’s remember:

This was not a trained warrior.
This was not an Olympic swimmer.
This was a pampered little prince who had spent his life on cushioned thrones.

And yet, he really thought he could escape by swimming.”

Alice throws up her hands.

“My darlings, he drowned.

The man went ‘I can fix this’ and immediately perished.

His body washed up on shore, all bloated and waterlogged, and when they found him?

Cleopatra didn’t even blink.”