A Moment of Peace

In a separate wing of the royal palace itself, nestled behind thick columns and hidden gardens, stood a grand private residence—vast enough to rival a noble's estate.

The night air was still and heavy with jasmine, and shadows danced along the whitewashed walls under the flickering glow of oil lamps.

Slabs of pale limestone framed the exterior, catching the moonlight and making the residence shimmer as though untouched by the turmoil brewing within.

From the outside, it was the picture of serenity.

Inside, however, chaos reigned.

A thunderous crash shattered the illusion as ceramic pots slammed into the walls and exploded across the marble floors.

The once-elegant upper chamber had transformed into a war zone.

Shattered jars, overturned chairs, and torn silks lay strewn in every corner.

The air was thick with the sound of destruction and fury.

At the center of the storm was a woman—sobbing, yelling, her screams ricocheting down the hallways of the estate.

Lady Kiya.

Her face, once renowned for its beauty, was now blotchy and red, swollen from hours of weeping.

Her eyes, dark brown and once alluring, burned with venomous hatred.

She grabbed another vase and hurled it with a scream.

"How dare she?!"

The crash echoed like thunder.

A timid knock was followed by the quiet creak of a door.

Tah, her personal servant stepped carefully into the room, heart hammering in her chest.

"Lady Kiya! Please, you must pull yourself together!" she pleaded, dodging a flying cushion.

"I know this is hard, but if you're not clear-headed, we'll never accomplish the plan!"

Kiya froze.

Her chest heaved as she stood in the middle of the wreckage, her long dark hair tangled and matted, her once-pristine dress stained and wrinkled from her rampage.

She stared into space, eyes blank, her hands still clenched in rage.

Then she spoke, voice trembling—not with sadness, but with fury.

"The Pharaoh killed my uncle… the only man who supported me… all because of her," she spat, her tone poisonous.

"That woman—that snake—is being praised as a miracle, as some goddess, because she brought a child back to life? Hah!"

Her bitter laugh cracked in the air.

"Don't make me laugh. She's not a goddess. She's a curse sent to destroy everything I've built!"

The venom in her voice intensified.

"She's torn the Pharaoh away from me, deceived the people, and now they praise her while they forget me. This is treason. And she'll pay for it—with her life."

Her voice dropped to a chilling whisper, cold and sharp as a blade.

"She never should've crossed me."

Then, with eerie calm, Kiya smoothed the wrinkles from her dress and turned toward the window, her expression unreadable.

But the fire in her eyes remained.

"There's a festival approaching. To welcome the kingdom's allies and it's rulers. She'll be there. Right at the Pharaoh's side, as if she belongs."

She looked over her shoulder, her smile wicked.

"I want eyes on her. Every step. And when the moment comes…" She turned fully, her gaze piercing.

"Strike. No hesitation. No mercy."

Tah dropped to her knees in a deep bow. "Yes, my lady! I will not fail. I'll see her buried if it's the last thing I do!"

Kiya gave a slow, satisfied nod and turned away, already envisioning her victory.

Let the game begin.

***

Morning came with golden light spilling across the palace grounds, warm and full of promise. The city of Memphis was alive with excitement.

Buzzing through the streets, in the markets, and even within the palace corridors, was one name on every tongue—the healer goddess.

Whispers had turned to praise, and praise into near-worship.

"Did you hear? She brought the child back from the dead!"

"They say the gods work through her hands. The Pharaoh must be truly blessed."

"She must have descended from the heavens!"

Servants gossiped as they prepared meals and changed linens.

Nobles murmured about her over morning wine.

Children ran barefoot through the courtyards pretending to heal one another with invisible powers. Joy danced in the air like petals on the wind.

Even the temple priests, once skeptical, now tread cautiously in their words.

The story of the girl who called down life from the gods had spread like fire across the land.

A divine presence had come to Egypt, and her name was quickly becoming legend.

Everywhere—except one corner of the palace—she was adored.

Inside the royal chamber of the Pharaoh, Jade's slumber stirred as the chamber had already come alive with soft, elegant activity.

Servants moved gracefully around the room—drawing back the drapes to welcome the morning sun, laying out warm cloths and fresh water for her to wash, and placing a tray of fruit, flatbread, and honeyed tea beside her cushioned bench.

Jade stirred beneath the linen covers, her mind slow to leave sleep.

For a fleeting moment, she expected the familiar buzz of her apartment back home—text pings, kettle whistles, maybe Angela dragging her out of bed with breakfast and gossip.

Instead… silence, birdsong, and sandalwood-scented air.

She sat up with a stretch, only half-aware—until the door flew open.

A burst of sunshine and energy waltzed in with it.

"Good morning, my lady!" chirped a young woman with two curly buns and the brightest grin Jade had seen since arriving.

"Sasa—your new personal attendant. Handpicked by His Majesty himself!"

Jade blinked, momentarily startled.

Sasa moved with a whirlwind grace, eyes bright with curiosity, voice brimming with enthusiasm.

For a surreal moment, Jade imagined Angela herself had wandered straight into ancient Egypt.

"I handle everything," Sasa continued without pause, arranging the robe with practiced hands.

"Dressing, braiding, arranging breakfasts, giving advice—I even tell jokes. Unfortunately, most here fail to appreciate my comedic brilliance."

Jade laughed softly. "You're quite something."

"So I've been told. People either adore me or beg me to leave. But lucky for you, you're stuck with me—Pharaoh's orders."

Jade's fingers wandered over the silken sheets beneath her, tracing the delicate embroidery she had followed absentmindedly on countless restless nights.

"It's strange," she murmured, voice softer than she intended.

"How a place can start to feel less foreign, but never quite like home."

Sasa, busy arranging Jade's robe across a carved cedar bench, paused mid-fold. "It grows on you," she said, "like a vine on a wall. Slowly, stubbornly."

Jade huffed a quiet laugh. "And sometimes chokes you."

Sasa grinned without missing a beat. "Or blooms."

The words settled in the air. Jade's gaze drifted to the soft glow of morning light pooling against the walls — familiar now, yet never fully hers.

"Do you happen to know where Pharaoh is now?" she asks changing the subject.

"Hm, guards mentioned he's been in a meeting since dawn, my lady," Sasa replied lightly.

Jade wondered briefly if he'd returned at all the night before, or if he'd slept elsewhere, consumed by affairs of state..

With a teasing wink, Sasa laid out Jade's fresh linen robe and motioned toward the food.

"Now—shall I feed you first or launch into all the palace gossip?"

Jade smiled despite herself. "Breakfast. Then gossip. But only if it's juicy."

"Always," Sasa whispered, already pouring tea like a seasoned handmaiden who'd lived five lives.

And for a little while—just a little—Jade allowed herself to simply be a girl in a soft bed, with warm bread and a new friend.