My Pharaoh

Chapter 8

Paloma

I watch the curtain drift in the air. I killed again today. And I'm tired. Some days I hold a grudge towards my father, for making me this skilled of a killer, for making a good fighter, perhaps if he didn't however, I'd be a prostitute like Khepiri, or or I'd still be at home unable to help them the way a son does.

There's a knock at the door. Who's trying to reach me this late? I pick up my dagger from my bedside table and walk towards the door.

I open it cautiously, until my eyes meet his. Tired, warm eyes.

I open the door all the way and invite him in. He takes his mask off, and I can see now that he's smiling. I wonder what made him smile.

"Hi." He mutters.

"Are you okay?" I ask, getting a chair for him to sit down.

"Yeah, I just finished— you know, and I just had to see your face."

Once again my heart feels warm, because of him. Whatever was making me sad and worried before, I can't even remember.

"Do you want to go somewhere?" He asks me.

"It's dangerous this time of night here, especially for us."

"I'll keep you safe." He whispers, making me smile at him, he smiles back watchfully.

"Where do you want to go?" I ask.

"You'll see," he says, standing up and reaching his hand out to me "come on."

I don't know if I should trust him, but I want to. I take his hand, which looks big in mine, and he takes me away.

***

He took me to a park by the Nile. We're sat on top of a roof, looking at the people, the families, the moon on the Nile's ripples, people sailing and rowing.

I watch the people, the normal people, with normal lives. I was just like that, before I first killed someone. I remember it so vividly, my first kill, while the other kills just blur into one sad feeling.

I look over at Amun, but he's already looking right at me. He doesn't look away out of embarrassment, the way I always do when he catches me staring. Instead, he just carries on looking at me.

"You're so pretty," he whispers, I glance at his lips "people don't tell you enough."

"How do you know?" I ask.

He scoffs lifting something out of his pocket, "because you have no idea how beautiful you are," he places a joint in his lips "do you mind?" He asks, before lighting it.

I shake my head "go ahead."

He lights it, breathing the smoke in and out.

I get sick of watching the smiling people and I lie down, and watch the stars. The light of the city ruins their glory. In the country, at night, the minimal lights we keep on, you can see the whole universe in the sky.

I close my eyes.

"If you could do anything you wanted," Amun suddenly says, and I open my eyes and look at him "what would it be?"