Chapter Nine (+18)
The sun burned high over Thebes, casting long golden rays across the palace courts. It was noon, the hour when Pharaoh Nari sparred with the guards to maintain his form. His movements in the training court were fluid, precise, no longer the clumsy hesitations of a boy—he had grown into his limbs, into his name, into his throne. The young king, once quiet and unsure, now moved with the confidence of a ruler whose reign had begun in blood and fire.
Nakhtira watched from behind a lattice screen on the upper terrace, shaded by linen veils that fluttered in the warm breeze. Her fingers played with the edge of her silken sash, her thoughts tangled and distracted. Her body still ached faintly from the night before, her lips still remembered the way he kissed her—like she was something holy. She had woken in his arms, breathless, and afraid of how deeply she had wandered into him.
It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Not so deeply. Not so soon.
She had lain there beside him, eyes on the ceiling, heart thudding with the truth: she had belonged to no one until last night. And now... she was someone's.
Her eyes drifted from the king below to the other figure on the training grounds. Kanum.
The soldier moved like a lion among men—strong, deliberate, and commanding. His dark bronze skin glistened with sweat, his muscles flexing with every blow exchanged. At 26 summers and 14 fortnights, Kanum was the very image of masculine pride. The stubble on his jaw darkened his sharp features and gave his face the kind of gravity that belonged to men who had seen things and survived them.
Her heart fluttered.
Long before she was crowned queen, when she was still the strange girl in a stranger palace, Kanum had caught her attention. He was noble, the son of a good man who had once advised the late Pharaoh Neferhotep. Kanum had always looked at her with curious eyes, respectful but tinged with something more. Something dangerous.
She remembered.
Two years ago. A glance across the courtyard. A passing compliment whispered too close to her ear. A touch that lingered too long. A stolen kiss behind the western pillars, when the garden was empty and the moon watched overhead.
She hadn't stopped him—not at first.
When his lips found hers, when his hand touched her waist, she'd melted into it—into the possibility of something thrilling. But then the world came crashing in. She had pulled away, shoved him back, breathless and ashamed, and fled into the darkness of the palace halls. She avoided him for months. Avoided herself.
But desire, once awoken, did not die quietly.
It happened again. Another stolen moment. Another near-disaster. His body against hers, her mind torn between duty and craving. His kisses were rough, tasting of dates and danger. Hers, conflicted. She'd let it go too far, always pulling back just before they crossed the line.
Because she was the queen now. Because Nari was her king.
Back then, Nari was only a boy. Sweet, shy, and often invisible. She could not imagine giving her heart to him. But now…
Now he was something else entirely.
Last night, she had stood before him, heart on fire. Ready. Willing. Even daring. She had told herself that if he rejected her, she would go to Kanum instead. Let the soldier have what the king could not claim.
But he hadn't rejected her.
He had kissed her like she was air after drowning. He had touched her like prayer. And now, as she watched him parry and strike below, the cords of her heart trembled. There was something regal about him now. He didn't just look like a man—he looked like a ruler. He belonged to no one, and yet last night he made her his.
She leaned on the railing and sighed.
Kanum caught her eye from below.
He froze mid-step. His jaw tensed. He knew that look. Knew it from years before. That look she gave when she was thinking about them. Or what they could have been.
He bowed, not as a soldier, but as a man who still harbored treasonous hopes. And she looked away.
That night, as the palace prepared for the evening meal, Nakhtira sat alone in her chamber, the silence pressing against her chest. Her thoughts wrestled each other: Kanum's hands on her skin, Nari's mouth whispering praise into her ear. Kanum's breath against her throat, Nari's tears against her cheek as he kissed her with awe.
Two men.
One she had wanted for years. One she had chosen for power, but who had quietly stolen her soul.
She did not know yet what would become of any of it.
But she knew this: if ever she let Kanum touch her again, she would not be able to stop. And if ever Nari discovered the fire Kanum had once lit in her, it would burn them all to ash.
She curled into her bedding and closed her eyes.
She dreamt of two kisses—one that tasted like wine and honey. The other, like dates and ruin.
Kanum had not been in the city for three months, stationed at the southern border gate where duty kept him far from the court's intrigues. Now, standing within the stone walls of the palace courtyard, the air heavy with the scent of incense and sun-warmed stone, he felt the weight of the city's whispered secrets settle over him again.
"Your Majesty," Kanum greeted as the young king approached, a faint smile tracing his lips. "You've gotten better since the last time I was in the city."
The king returned a weary smile, rubbing the back of his neck as if to shake off unseen burdens. "I've grown clumsy. My thoughts scatter like leaves in a storm."
Kanum arched a brow. "I wonder what you would've done if your thoughts weren't so distracted… You might have had my head by now."
The king chuckled softly, his eyes sharp. "I'm too good a man to do that to you. Yet. You haven't betrayed me… not yet."
There was a tension in the air, a silent plea beneath the king's jest. Kanum pressed. "What troubles you, my king?"
"It's something I will address in the courtroom tomorrow," the king said, turning to leave, flanked by his guards who walked just a few steps behind him.
Kanum watched him go, curiosity stirring deep in his chest. Months away had made him restless; many things had surely changed. He resolved to attend the court meeting — whatever the secret was, he intended to know.
---
That evening, the city breathed a different air. The noisy bustle of the day faded into shadows and flickering torchlight. Kanum found himself walking toward one of the finer brothels in the entertainment quarter — a place where discretion and luxury intertwined.
He approached the house lady, a sharp-eyed woman who knew her business. "I seek a particular kind of company tonight," he said, voice low and deliberate. "Young women… in the prime of their beauty."
"Age preference?" she asked, already anticipating the payment.
"No, young will do," Kanum added quickly.
Within minutes, the house lady returned with three women, each bearing a striking resemblance to the queen in his mind's eye — delicate features, dark eyes that promised both mystery and fire.
"Which will you choose?" the lady inquired.
Kanum's lips curled in a wolfish grin. "All of them."
The lady's eyebrows rose, but her expression quickly smoothed as Kanum dropped a heavy pouch of gold coins on the table. "I have enough coin."
---
The night unfolded as a dance of pleasure and abandon.
Kanum lay back on plush cushions, the soft moans of the women filling the room like a haunting melody. One pressed her warm breast to his mouth, her skin soft as silk, while another poured honey slowly down his chest and licked it off with teasing sweetness that sent shivers down his spine.
His stamina was tireless, endless as a wild stallion. One of the women soon grew breathless and slipped away to rest, but the others eagerly continued, their bodies entwined around his.
At one point, Kanum had them lie on each other, the two women pressed together, their curves and warmth exposed to him. He took one first, feeling the slick heat of her desire envelop him, before sliding into the other, their gasps and cries mingling in the dim light.
Even as his body strained and burned with exertion, his mind wandered — and he murmured the queen's name under his breath, imagining her delicate skin beneath his hands, her scent filling his senses. The illicit thought fueled him, igniting a savage hunger deep inside.
Hours passed. The women grew exhausted, their breaths ragged, but Kanum remained, drawing pleasure and relief from the thrumming rhythm of their union.