The King's Return

The dunes stretched endlessly behind them, their golden waves softening under the setting sun. But ahead, looming like an untouchable jewel, stood Memphis—the heart of Egypt, the city of Pharaohs, the center of a civilization that had withstood time itself.

As Jade and the royal procession descended toward its gates, the sheer scale of the city became impossible to ignore.

Towering limestone walls encased the grand capital, their sun-kissed surfaces gleaming as though coated in molten gold.

The entrance, an immense structure carved with the symbols of gods and kings, stood wide open, welcoming the return of its ruler.

Beyond it, the sounds of life poured forth—merchants hawking their goods, oxen pulling carts through the bustling avenues, and distant melodies played by street performers filling the air.

Jade's breath hitched. This was real. This was history breathing before her eyes.

She twisted in her seat, struggling to absorb it all at once—the sprawl of sandstone buildings, the winding roads leading to grand courtyards, the tall palm trees swaying lazily in the breeze.

In the distance, towering above all else, stood the grand palace, its columns casting long shadows over the city.

"Oh my God," she gasped, turning wide, astonished eyes to Rameses. "This is your capital? This is insane! It's like something straight out of a movie—I mean, a dream!"

The words tumbled out before she could stop them, raw and unfiltered. Her entire body nearly vibrated with excitement as she twisted back to take it all in again.

She was here. Here.

Rameses watched her, amusement flickering behind his composed gaze. She was unlike any woman he had ever known—fearless in her awe, completely unguarded in her emotions.

Most would bow in reverence before such splendor, but Jade? She gawked, she marveled, she gushed.

General Horus, who observed everything with a calculating eye, simply shook his head. He had once suspected her of being a spy, but seeing her now—completely lacking in tact and self-restraint—he wondered how he could have ever entertained the thought.

Hassan, on the other hand, shared in her excitement. Finally, civilization! Good food, clean clothes—after days in the wilderness, he could practically hear the gods singing. 

He urged his horse forward, closing the distance between himself, Jade, and the Pharaoh, entirely ignoring the sharp look being sent his way.

"Aren't you excited?" he asked Jade, grinning.

Jade turned to him eagerly. "Yes! Everything is so alive! Look at those food stalls, and the crafts!" She pointed excitedly toward the marketplace, where richly colored fabrics swayed in the breeze and baskets overflowed with fragrant spices.

Hassan chuckled. "If the man beside you permits it, I could show you around tomorrow," he offered smoothly, though he was well aware of the territorial glares coming from said man.

Jade's eyes lit up, but before she could respond, a deep commanding voice cut through the moment.

"Absolutely not."

The Pharaoh's words were final, his tone bringing no argument. 

His expression darkened as he fixed Hassan with a warning glare, silently promising that any further persistence would earn him time in the dungeons.

Hassan smirked, raising his hands in surrender. "All right, time to go home, I guess," he muttered under his breath, wisely retreating.

As the procession entered the city, the people of Memphis took notice.

A ripple of excitement spread through the streets. The once casual murmur of conversation swelled into a roar of celebration.

"Hurray! The King is back!"

"Pharaoh, you've returned!"

"Pharaoh, bless my child!"

And then—

"KYAAA! My king, you're as gorgeous as always! Please marry me and be the father of my children!"

Jade's head snapped toward the sound so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. A voluptuous fruit vendor had practically thrown herself over her stall, eyes shining with admiration as she waved dramatically in Rameses' direction.

Jade gawked, then turned to look up at Rameses, who was already watching her, one eyebrow raised as if to say, What?

She huffed, puffing her cheeks in mild annoyance. Ancient women were supposed to be demure, right? Respectful? And yet here they were—shamelessly throwing themselves at him like groupies at a rock concert.

Jade huffed, puffing her cheeks in mild annoyance. 

Not that she cared. Not at all.

She just needed to focus on going home. Back to her time. Back to her family.

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, her thoughts spiraled wildly, the energy in her chest tightening.

Rameses, however, saw right through her. Her emotions played across her face like an open book. 

He chuckled, finding her reaction more amusing than he should have.

Then, something shifted in the crowd.

The cheering turned into whispers.

"Who is that?"

"A woman? With the Pharaoh?"

"What about Lady Kiya?"

"Have you seen her eyes? Her hair? Her skin? It's like a goddess has descended from the heavens."

The whispers did not escape Rameses, nor did they escape Jade. 

The murmurs spread like wildfire. Eyes latched onto Jade, assessing, judging. Some were curious, others wary, a few outright suspicious.

Jade's heart sank.

The stares felt suffocating. She instinctively clutched at her shawl, shrinking into herself as if that could make her invisible. The energy in her chest tightened, and for the first time since stepping into this world, she felt truly foreign. Out of place.

She didn't belong here.

Rameses noticed the shift immediately. 

His jaw clenched, his gaze darkened, the flicker of anger unmistakable as his grip on the reins tightening.

Without hesitation, his arm wrapped around her waist, anchoring her to him as he maneuvered his horse forward. His posture radiated authority, his expression a silent warning.

The people felt it instantly.

A heavy stillness swept through the streets, the once-lively marketplace halting under the weight of their Pharaoh's displeasure. Merchants, once loud and boisterous, fell silent. Children, moments ago laughing and playing, clung to their mothers.

The people of Memphis were many things—bold, proud, and unafraid to speak their minds—but no one, no one, was foolish enough to ignore the mood of their king.

Rameses swept his gaze over them, eyes sharp and unyielding. He did not need to speak. His presence alone commanded obedience.

A few heads bowed. Others averted their gazes entirely, as if hoping to erase their whispers from existence.

"Forward," Rameses commanded, his voice steady, unwavering.

The soldiers obeyed instantly, their horses pressing onward toward the towering palace in the distance.

And just like that, the city of Memphis fell into order, its pulse once again dictated by the will of its Pharaoh.