Heretic of the Nile

014

Isis's plan for smuggling Kha into the palace involved stowing him away in a cart carrying bundles and bundles of new fabrics for the queen's wardrobe. More specifically, wrapping him up in fresh linen until he became a bolt of fabric himself. Since this was the queen's purchases, the guards could not resort to stabbing their spears through the bolts, so the cart was allowed through the gates after some cursory checks.

The moment he was unrolled and released from his linen prison, Kha gasped and let the air flood back into his lungs.

"Your Highness, are you alright?" Isis asked, looking worried. "I'm so sorry. The guards took longer with the entrance checks than I had anticipated."

He shook his head. "I'm fine," he said.

They had stopped in front of the storehouses within the queen's quarters, and the familiarity of the surroundings brought him a sense of relief.

I'm finally home.

"Her Majesty should be at her inner chambers now," Isis said, leading the way. They had waited until nightfall to return, since much of the palace would be winding down at this hour and there would be fewer servants and guards milling about.

The duo navigated through the corridors and courtyards until they arrived outside the queen's chambers, where Hetepheres would be preparing to retire for the night. Voices could be heard echoing softly from within.

Kha paused, stopping just outside the threshold of the chamber's doorway.

"Is something the matter, Your Highness?" Isis asked.

Kha put a finger to his lips, beckoning for her to be quiet. A slow chill spread within him as his mind registered what it was that he was listening to. The occasional creaking of a wooden bedframe. The soft, satisfied moans coming from a woman's lips. The heaving and panting of a man as he called out the name "Hetepheres", so gently that it was as if he was afraid of breaking a delicate flower.

The king was unconscious.

Isis gasped when she realised what was going on. Her face paled with guilt and shame.

"Your Highness, I—"

"How long?"

"Your Highness..."

"How long has this been going on?" Kha whispered. It was difficult for him to even spit out each word, his throat clenched with anger and fear.

Isis lowered her gaze. She didn't answer his question. Instead, she said, "I know this will be difficult to understand and impossible to accept, but the queen is lonely, Your Highness. She rules over this harem, yet there is so much that is beyond her control."

"Very long then." Kha's fingernails dug into his palms. " Who is it?"

Isis fell to her knees, prostrating on the floor. She remained silent.

"Do you think I won't be able to find out just because you refuse to tell me?"

Kha stepped past Isis and peered into the queen's chamber. At the far end of the room, a light gauze curtain obscured the two entwined bodies on the bed, leaving only a hazy outline for the onlooker. The sounds of passion had died down and he could see his mother's silhouette sit herself upright, her back facing towards the doorway.

"I wasn't expecting you to have the time to stop by," he heard her say. "Should you not be extremely busy with the recent developments?"

"If you want to know what's happening, all you need to do is ask, my queen," the man teased. His voice was mellow and buttery, like a rich summer's wine.