The House of the Gods

The palace was beyond anything Jade had imagined.

She had seen and read about grand castles in history books, extravagant estates in movies, and even Egyptian palaces reconstructed in museums. But none compared to this.

The Great House as they like to call it loomed over Memphis like a divine monument, its towering pylons carved with colossal depictions of Rameses—eternal, imposing. 

Hieroglyphs of gods, war triumphs, and sacred rituals sprawled across its surface. 

A long, paved causeway led to the gates, flanked by towering statues of Horus and Anubis, their stone gazes judging all who dared approach.

Jade swallowed hard, feeling inspected.

Beyond the gates, splendor unfolded. Courtyards lined with towering columns gleamed in lapis, gold, and carmine, inscribed with shimmering hieroglyphs. 

The air was thick with jasmine, myrrh, and sandalwood, mingling with the warmth of baking bread and fresh-cut reeds perfuming the breeze. 

Servants moved with silent efficiency, their pristine linen robes a blur of motion. 

Palace gardens teemed with lotus pools and date palms, while noblewomen whispered behind painted lips.

She barely had time to process it as they passed through the towering gates and deeper into the palace grounds.

Her breath caught.

The vast open-air corridors stretched endlessly, upheld by rows of massive lotus-topped columns, their surfaces gleaming with hieroglyphs painted in gold and deep blue. 

Murals of gods and mortals in celestial battles adorned the walls, their stories etched into eternity. 

The flickering glow of enormous bronze braziers, sculpted into mythical beasts, cast shifting shadows across the polished stone floor.

Ahead, the entrance to the Great Hall loomed, its colossal doors still shut, as if guarding the heart of the palace. 

But even from here, Jade could feel its power, the weight of history pressing in around her. The air itself seemed to hum with the presence of something far greater than a mere man.

And beyond those doors, at its core, would be the seat of Pharaoh himself.

And she? She was an outsider from the 21st century standing at its threshold.

Her gaze flicked to Rameses. He sat tall on his horse, his presence unshaken. 

In the desert, he had been a warrior. But here, within these sacred walls, he was something else entirely.

Here, he was Pharaoh.

The realization pressed against her chest, sharp and heavy. 

What was she doing here, standing beside a man whose name was whispered in prayers, whose image was carved into stone to defy time itself? 

For the first time since arriving in this world, the full force of what he was struck her.

A shiver ran down her spine.

As they finally passed through the final archway, Rameses halted his horse. His soldiers followed in perfect synchronization, hooves scuffing against the stone.

Jade tensed.

She had been riding for hours. Her muscles ached, and now she had to dismount in front of half of Egypt.

Before she could attempt it, Rameses moved.

He slid off his horse effortlessly, then turned, extending a hand. Behind him, he cast a glance at his soldiers, a silent command passing between them. 

Without hesitation, they began to disperse, understanding their duty was complete. 

Some made their way toward the palace barracks, others toward the city beyond, their disciplined departure an unspoken testament to their Pharaoh's authority.

Jade hesitated to dismount as she felt something in the air.

She looked around her and found eyes on them. Nobles, officials, palace attendants—all watching.

The murmurs swelled around them. No way in hell was she letting them see her struggle.

Swallowing her pride, she placed her hand in his. His grip tightened, and before she could react, he guided her down with effortless control. 

The movement was smooth, too quick, and for a breathless second, she thought she would fall into him.

But he caught her.

Her feet hit the ground, his hands steadying her at her waist, ensuring she wouldn't stumble. Heat shot up her spine. 

She wasn't sure if it was from his touch, the ease with which he moved her, or the fact that half of Memphis had just witnessed it.

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his eyes before he released her.

"Try not to hesitate next time," he murmured.

Jade scowled. "I could've done it myself."

His smirk was infuriating as he turned away.

***

A servant, concealed behind one of the pillars, caught a glimpse of the scene. Without hesitation, they quickly lowered their gaze and moved on as if nothing had happened.

Elsewhere in the palace, a noblewoman sat before a polished bronze mirror. She hummed a tune, her movements languid and carefree as she brushed her long, dark, voluptuous hair. 

Lady Kiya had chosen this moment to visit the palace upon learning that the Pharaoh had been away. She saw it as the perfect opportunity to welcome him home upon his return.

Beside her, a young maid named Tah clasped her hands together, eyes bright with excitement. "Oh, my lady, the Pharaoh will be so pleased to see you!"

Kiya smiled, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers. 

"Of course he will. The palace must have felt empty without me. And what better way to greet him than with a vision of beauty waiting in his halls?"

Tah giggled, nodding eagerly. 

"You always know how to make an entrance, my lady. The moment he sees you, he will forget the dust of his travels."

Kiya laughed lightly, tilting her head as she admired her reflection. 

"As he should. Now, Tah, tell me—what colors suit me best for a homecoming such as this?"

Tah smoothed the fine linen of Kiya's dress and grinned. 

"Anything you wear, my lady, will outshine the stars. Though, I must say, the stewards were quite surprised when you arrived unannounced."

Kiya smirked, running her fingers through her hair. "Oh, let them talk. No invitation is needed when one is as welcome as I am. The palace doors did not stay closed for long, did they?"

Tah giggled. "No, my lady. The moment they saw you, they hurried to make accommodations. You have a way of bending even the most rigid of rules."

Kiya waved a dismissive hand. "Rules? What are those to a woman who knows her worth? Besides, Pharaoh will see my presence as nothing less than a delightful surprise." 

She glanced toward the open balcony, where the city stretched beneath the sky. "And soon, he will be home. I must look nothing short of divine when he arrives."

A sudden knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Tah turned, eyes wide with curiosity, before hurrying to open it. 

Another palace maid entered hesitantly, her hands wringing together as she stepped forward. Her eyes darted toward Lady Kiya, filled with something unspoken, something urgent.

"What is it?" Kiya asked, arching a brow as she turned in her seat.

The maid hesitated before stepping closer, bringing her fingers to her lips as she leaned in to whisper. "My lady... I saw him. The Pharaoh has returned—but he was not alone."

Kiya's expression froze. "Not alone?"

The maid swallowed hard. "He arrived with a woman, my lady. A foreigner. She rode beside him, and he—he helped her dismount with his own hands."

Silence fell like a stone.

Kiya's fingers clenched around the handle of her brush. For a moment, she was utterly still, the only movement was the tremble that started in her hands. 

Then, in one sharp motion, she flung the bronze mirror across the room. It shattered against the wall, shards of polished bronze and glass scattering across the floor.

Tah gasped, stepping back in alarm. The maid who had spoken stood frozen, her head bowed, eyes locked to the floor.

Kiya rose slowly, her breath sharp, her teeth clenched. "Who is this wretch woman?" she demanded, her voice low with barely contained fury.

The maid dared not meet her gaze, but she answered with a trembling voice. "I... I do not know, my lady. But she is unlike anyone we have seen before."

Kiya's nails dug into her palms, her pulse thundering in her ears. "Find out," she hissed. "And when you do, you will come to me first."