The Bittersweet First

The next day, Jade sat curled in one of the lounge chairs in her chamber, savoring the magnificent view of the Nile. 

To her sweet delight, her room came with a spacious veranda, lush with exotic plants and perfumed with their subtle scent. 

A soft breeze drifted in from the river, rustling the leaves. At the center of the veranda, a cushioned lounge bed faced the Nile—inviting, serene, almost surreal. 

For a moment, it was easy to forget where—or when—she truly was.

As Jade lounged in the warm sunlight, soaking in the breathtaking view, her thoughts inevitably drifted back to the night before.

The bathhouse.

That kiss.

Her heart skipped. She still couldn't believe it had happened. She had never been kissed before—and now her first kiss was with a man from ancient times. And not just any man, but a Pharaoh, no less.

A sharp squeal escaped her lips before she could stop it. 

She slapped her hands over her face, cheeks burning, curling in on herself like a schoolgirl caught daydreaming in class.

Growing up in China, Jade had been raised by parents who, while not overly strict, believed in open communication when it came to relationships.

They had encouraged her to build a meaningful relationship with someone, but somehow, life had always gotten in the way. She never really dated.

In school, she'd been quietly criticized for looking like a foreigner, despite being born and raised in China.

A few boys had shown interest—some even approached her—but her self-confidence had been too fragile.

Rather than drawing more attention to herself and risking becoming a target, she'd always smiled politely and turned them down.

God, what would Angela say?

Her best friend would've screamed right alongside her—part joy, part smug pride. 

After all, Jade had finally crossed some invisible line in the romantic department, and not with just anyone. 

Angela would've probably started planning the wedding already.

Jade let the giddy warmth bubble up inside her—just for a moment. But as fast as it came, it slipped away.

Because then… he said another woman's name.

Right after kissing her. Right when she was floating in that fragile moment of wonder, he had said someone else's name. 

It made her stomach twist all over again just thinking about it.

The sting of it pulled her back to reality. She had felt foolish—naive, even—for letting herself believe that he might actually like her. 

That the kiss had meant something.

And then came dinner.

She had planned to move past it. To forget the slip-up and try to have a real conversation with him. 

She was ready to be open, maybe even ask him about the kiss—what it meant to him.

But then she appeared.

That woman.

Jade hadn't caught her name—didn't need to. The way she entered the room like she owned it, the ease with which she leaned into Rameses, touched him, smiled at him like they shared a hundred inside jokes—it told her everything she needed to know. 

They weren't just acquaintances. It was clear. They were involved. Whether officially or not, it didn't matter. 

The familiarity was intimate. Obvious.

Jade had felt a storm of emotions rise in her chest. 

First anger. Then betrayal. A sharp ache that shouldn't have hurt as much as it did.

But logic came swiftly after, like a cold breeze.

He's a Pharaoh.

Of course he has other women.

The history books even said so—mistresses were common, expected even. 

She'd known that. She just hadn't expected to care this much.

So she did the only thing she could.

She buried what she felt beneath a quiet, practiced chill. She met his gaze with indifference. 

Kept her voice calm. Pretended none of it touched her.

Because if she didn't protect her heart now, she wasn't sure there'd be anything left of it later.

Jade sighed dramatically and flopped onto her back, arms sprawled across the lounge chair like a tragic heroine in some ancient soap opera. 

She stared up at the open sky and then back out at the shimmering Nile, which sparkled like it hadn't just watched her make a complete fool of herself the night before.

"Okay," she muttered aloud. 

"New day. New mindset. No more mentally spiraling over hot, emotionally unavailable Pharaohs."

The view was too beautiful to be tainted by boy drama—especially ancient boy drama. She took a deep breath and tried to center herself.

She needed to focus.

On herself.

On going home.

On not getting swept up in another steamy, historic moment that ended with confusion and emotional damage.

You are a modern woman. You have Wi-Fi and emotional boundaries. You can do this.

She was not here to catch feelings. 

Especially not for a man who had probably dated half the palace and couldn't even kiss her without muttering someone else's name afterward. 

Nope. No, ma'am. Not today, ancient Egyptian Cupid.

"Get it together, girl," she whispered to herself, slapping her cheeks lightly. 

"You're not here for romance. You're here to—uh—reverse time travel. Fix history. Find magical artifacts. Go full Tomb Raider if you have to. You got this."

She nodded firmly to herself, ignoring the tiny voice in her heart that whispered about how good that kiss had felt. 

About the way he'd looked at her. About the strange pull between them she couldn't quite explain.

Nope. Not today.

Mission: Go Home was back on.

She was still nodding to herself, mid-pep-talk, when a soft cough broke the air.

Jade froze. Slowly, she turned her head to find a young servant standing awkwardly near the entrance of her chamber, clearly unsure if he had just interrupted some sort of personal ritual.

"His Majesty requests your presence," the servant said, eyes averted.

"Of course he does," Jade muttered under her breath, already bracing herself for whatever that meant. She sat up with a sigh, ready to respond—but then something caught her eye.

Down by the river.

Movement.

She squinted, heart skipping a beat. 

There—just past the rippling surface of the Nile—something shimmered. Not light. Not water.

Something else.

Jade shot to her feet, sending the lounge cushion bouncing beneath her. Her eyes widened.

No. No, that can't be—

Without thinking, she bolted—leaping off the veranda, sprinting barefoot across the sun-warmed stone, all grace and panic and instinct.

She didn't hear the servant call after her. Didn't care.

All that mattered was the river—

And what she thought she just saw within it.