[DISCONTINUED UFN] BENEATH SANDS OF BLOOD ⟶ THE MUMMY 1999/2017

𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢 ⟶ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬

⊱▬▬▬║≬≬≬║▬▬▬⊰

"I am here for you."

⊱▬▬▬║≬≬≬║▬▬▬⊰

THE ROYAL PALACE

║ AHMANET ║

THEIR FIRST KISS WAS UNDER THE STARS.

She remembered it so clearly, the wind stinging her skin and the silver light of the moon washing over the balcony. It had been dangerous. Reckless, her brother would have called it, but he hadn't known. And she hoped he never would.

Gods above, how wonderful it had felt to have Anck-su-Namun's lips against her own. Ahmanet remembered how she had been at the palace for weeks by then, and how lingering glances grew into stolen touches and subtle smiles over dinners. She remembered how Anck-su-Namun had dueled Nefertiti, and the princess had gotten a rare blow in, leaving the mistress with a bloodied arm. Despite Pharaoh's soothings, Anck-su-Namun had disappeared to her chambers, with Ahmanet not far behind. Isis was the patron Goddess for royal women, and it seemed normal for the present Priestess to offer what healing she could.

She had walked her way past the guards with honeyed words and then, when the guards got too nosy, asserted authority. Then she was inside the favored mistress' chambers, finding the woman standing upon the balcony. It took Ahmanet a moment to remember to breathe, as silly as that sounded. Anck-su-Namun had taken her breath away, and indeed, she was a sight to behold worthy of stealing breath. Moonlight had washed over bronzed and painted skin, the curve of her hips outlined by Khonsu's* glow. When the woman had turned, for just the briefest of moments, Ahmanet had wondered if a Goddess had come to the palace.

"High Priestess," had been Anck-su-Namun's soft words, shaking Ahmanet out of her trance.

"It's just Ahmanet," she uttered back, moving forward until she was stepping up onto the balcony. Her balcony overlooked the city of Thebes, the shining jewel of Egypt and the Nile. At night, the city was alight with candles winking from the windows of the families now at home, hiding away from the spirits that roamed free in the night. "You are injured. Perhaps I can help, Favored One."

Her casualty was reciprocated. "Please, Anck-su-Namun is fine," she hummed back. That left a soft smile on Ahmanet's lips. "I would welcome the help. . ." The favored mistress leaned against the beautifully crafted gold railings that were just another gaudy symbol of Pharaoh's wealth. Wealth, in Ahmanet's opinion, extended to far more than just money. Wealth was in information, and in love, and in having far more than the means to buy everything one could see. But, then again, Pharaoh was merely a man and men did like to show off.

Ahmanet came to rest beside Anck-su-Namun, studying the minor graze on her arm. It was no worse than anything she'd endured before in duels with Nefertiti, but nevertheless, it didn't look so pleasant. Ahmanet had had the sense to take a few supplies with her when she came to check in on Anck-su-Namun, so she now pressed the white cloth in her hand to the other's arm. Gold and black paint were already smeared by the fight, so she didn't take care to avoid messing it up further. "You are quite skilled," the priestess observed, eyes flickering up.

"Training for such duels was part of my childhood," Anck-su-Namun replied, her gaze studying the gods in the sky above them who glittered with stars and silver light. "I was raised to be Pharaoh's mistress."

"And you don't wish for something. . . more?"

This gave pause to the other woman, who let out a quiet breath. The night seemed to close in around them, as though trying to preserve any treacherous secrets yet to leave their lips. "What more is there to wish for, Ahmanet?" Her head turned until her eyes found the priestess' again. Something in them was dark, almost chilling, but as moths were drawn to the flames of torches, Ahmanet found herself drawn to that same darkness. "I am here to serve Pharaoh my master. That has always been my purpose in life."

"But what if you could become more? Perhaps. . . be the queen? He adores you so. Everyone sees that."

"He has a queen," she whispered. "To say anything of becoming queen myself. . . it is treason. You, however. . . Tell me, Ahmanet, what is a High Priestess of one of our most revered Goddesses doing here?"

"I am here on her bidding."

"Your name is known through the land. You are the right hand of Isis, powerful enough to defy Pharaoh himself should you need to. You can go where you please, and your family's power rivals only that of Pharaoh's." She whispered back, and Ahmanet found it hard to breathe when Anck-su-Namun's lips were so close to hers. "Ahmanet, what are you doing here?"

And there it was. Ahmanet could lie, could pretend she meant nothing more than friendship, but there were no guards to pretend around, no servants to eavesdrop on them. No one, but her and Anck-su-Namun, under the silent gaze of the Gods who had seemingly ensured their meeting. 

"I. . . believe. . ." She let out a breath. "I am here for you."

When sunrise came the next morning, Ahmanet woke to a sleepy smile and murmured hello. For the first time in years, Ahmanet felt a tightening in her chest that made her realize something. She had fallen in love.

And it was with Pharaoh's mistress.