A Moment to Breathe

A long, deep sigh echoed through the tent, followed by the soft sound of water rippling.

Jade sank lower into the warm bath, her muscles finally relaxing after what felt like an eternity in the desert. The heat, the exhaustion, the fear—it had all clung to her like a second skin, but now, with the warmth of the water enveloping her, she could breathe.

Her fingers hovered over the water's surface, watching the ripples spread as servant women worked around her, pouring scented oils into the bath.

She wasn't used to this.

She had never been waited on, never had anyone scrub her skin or pour water over her like she was some kind of noble. It made her uneasy.

She had no real say in the matter.

After General Horus introduced himself and interrogated her, she had been led—not forcefully, but not exactly freely either—to this tent, given food, and instructed to clean herself up while awaiting the Pharaoh's decision.

He had assured her she was not a prisoner.

But it certainly felt like she was.

Jade sat upright in the tub, her back tense, feeling the weight of her situation pressing down on her again.

She had no power here. No control.

When she had first stepped into the tent, she was met with several servant women waiting inside. She had tried to politely decline their help, insisting she could bathe herself, but the sharp glares she received were enough to shut her up.

They did not like her.

She could feel it.

She was an outsider, a foreigner in strange clothes, a woman handed an unusual amount of courtesy from their General.

They didn't trust her.

And honestly? She couldn't blame them.

Still, that didn't stop them from grabbing at her clothes, their patience thin as they stripped her down—not harshly, but definitely not gently.

At first, she had tried to cover herself, but the women had none of it.

The next thing she knew, a bucket of warm water was dumped over her head, and she was half-pushed, half-dropped into the tub.

Now here she was, finally alone in her thoughts.

The bathwater was infused with fragrant oils, filling the air with a scent she couldn't quite place—earthy, yet floral, soothing yet strong.

She let out a slow exhale, sinking back, her eyes drifting toward the ceiling.

What now?

Everything had happened so fast.

It still hadn't sunk in yet.

The impossibility of it all.

She had time-traveled.

She had fallen thousands of years into the past.

Jade let her fingers glide across the water, staring blankly ahead. What did she ever do in her past life to deserve this?

Her mind wandered—back to the museum, the laughter with her best friend, the tour guide's voice droning in the background.

And then… the amulet.

That was the last thing she remembered before waking up in the middle of nowhere, burning under the desert sun.

It felt like a dream—some elaborate hallucination.

But then, she pinched herself.

"Ow!" She winced.

One of the servants glanced at her like she had lost her mind.

Right. Definitely not a dream.

She rubbed her arm, inhaling deeply. She had to stay focused.

There had to be a way out of this.

And there was only one way she could think of.

She needed to get back to the Giza Pyramids.

If the amulet had brought her here, then maybe—just maybe—it could send her back.

But she couldn't do this alone.

She needed someone in power to help her.

Which meant she needed to **convince someone—**preferably the Pharaoh himself—to allow her to return to Giza.

Somehow.

Jade sighed, sinking deeper into the bath, letting the water envelop her for just a little longer.

Because once she stepped out of this tub…

Her real battle would begin.

After she had been scrubbed, soaked, and—as the servants probably thought—cleansed of whatever filth a foreigner carried, one of them handed her a dress.

Jade held it up, examining the fabric.

It was lightweight, slightly sheer linen, designed to drape over the body in a way that was both modest yet clung to certain areas. The thin shoulder straps were barely wide enough to keep it in place, and a woven belt had been set beside it—probably to cinch it at the waist.

She frowned slightly. So… no undergarments?

It was simple yet elegant, nothing like the modern clothes she was used to. The linen felt soft but slightly coarse, and she realized it was probably designed for comfort in the desert heat.

She had no idea what it was called, but it was clearly the standard wear for women here.

Jade sighed. At least it wasn't complicated.

With little choice, she slipped into the dress, adjusting the straps and wrapping the woven belt around her waist.

By the time she laid down, exhaustion had won.

She hadn't realized just how tired she was until her head hit the bedding.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she slept like a baby.

No heat scorching her skin.

No fear of dying alone in the desert.

No strange men eyeing her like a caged animal.

Just silence.

Warmth.

Sleep.

Morning Comes

Sunlight spilled into the tent, warm and golden, filtering through the fabric in soft rays.

Jade stirred, blinking against the gentle glow.

For the first time in days, she had slept without fear.

The exhaustion that had weighed her down, suffocated her, had finally given way to something close to rest.

She inhaled slowly, stretching her arms over her head before pushing herself up.

Now that her mind was clearer, she finally took in her surroundings.

The tent was simple, yet clean.

A woven mat covered the floor, and the bedding she had slept on was made of soft linen, laid over layers of woven reeds. A small wooden stand sat in the corner, and a bronze mirror rested on top of it.

No decorations, no excessive luxury—but comfortable.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the entrance flap of the tent rustled.

A servant entered, carrying a large tray.

Jade straightened immediately, her stomach tightening.

The woman barely acknowledged her, placing the tray down on the small stand before lifting the lid of one of the clay pots.

The aroma of food immediately filled the air, and Jade's stomach growled loudly before she could stop it.

She froze.

The servant paused as well, briefly glancing at her before scoffing under her breath.

Jade cleared her throat, feeling her face burn.

Right. She never got the chance to eat last night.

Hesitantly, she leaned forward, peering inside the clay pot.

Her eyes widened.

Inside was a thick, creamy dish that looked like porridge, slightly yellowed with spices. Beside it were flatbreads, dates, figs, and pieces of cheese. Another small dish held a mix of honey and what appeared to be yogurt.

It wasn't anything too foreign—in fact, it reminded her of Middle Eastern or Mediterranean breakfasts she'd seen before.

Her fingers hovered over the food as her mind spun.

How many years into the past had she fallen?

Hundreds? Thousands?

And would she ever make it back?

The weight of that thought pressed down on her, but before it could consume her, her stomach let out another loud protest.

The servant rolled her eyes.

Jade sighed, finally giving in.

She had too much to figure out.

But first…

She needed to eat.