{ •The Pharaoh's Curse • } RE4 LEONSKENNEDY FF

A dagger right in my heart

This chapter contains sexual content .!!!!⚠️⚠️⚠️

———-─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───———-
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From the shadows emerged an elderly woman, her frail figure adorned with intricate patterns painted on her hands and feet, accented with gold tracings. She appeared to be around 90 years old, her piercing gaze sharper than expected.

Amaris immediately stood to attention, her expression neutral but respectful, while Leon observed silently.

The woman spoke in Arabic, her voice steady despite her age:
"كان عليك أن تأتي وحدك. إحضار غير المؤمنين إلى هنا إهانة. لن يتسامح الآلهة مع هذا."
("You should have come alone. Bringing an unbeliever here is an insult. The gods will not tolerate this.")

Amaris stepped forward, her tone calm but firm as she replied fluently in Arabic:
"لم يكن هذا قراري. كان ذلك بأمر من رؤسائي."
("It wasn't my decision. It was mandated by my superiors.")

The woman studied her for a moment, her sharp eyes sweeping over Amaris, then briefly flicking to Leon before returning. With a curt nod, she produced a small, wrapped bundle—a letter enveloped in a traditional prayer veil, its fabric delicate and richly embroidered. She held it out to Amaris without a word. Alongside the bundle, she set down a bronze incense holder, its sweet smoke curling around them like a silent witness.

Amaris accepted the items with a solemn nod, carefully tucking the bundle away. She gestured subtly to Leon, signaling him to follow her as she said in English, "Let's go."

Back at the safe house, Amaris glanced around as she tied the horses to the post. She turned to Leon, her tone brisk. "We should get back inside and figure out our next move."

Leon nodded, following her inside. The safe house was modest but functional, with a dining table at its center and a modest spread of food and drinks on the counter. As Leon scanned the unfamiliar dishes, his expression betrayed his confusion.

Amaris let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't tell me you're a picky eater..."

Leon frowned at her, crossing his arms. "I'm sorry, princess, but I'm used to burgers and steak—not... whatever that is."

Amaris raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely confused. "It's koshary. Macaroni, rice, lentils, and all the good stuff. You know, real food. But hey, you can always go to McDonald's—there's one just around the corner, you Yankee."

Leon froze, the word Yankee hitting him like a punch to the gut. It was Luis's voice he heard in his head—Luis's teasing tone, full of life and humor. The realization sank deeper: Luis wasn't here anymore. He swallowed hard, nodding silently, and sat down to eat.

Amaris, sensing the shift in his demeanor, furrowed her brow. What the hell just happened? Did I hit a nerve? This man is insane. She gave him a sideways glance but said nothing more, focusing on her own meal.

The room remained quiet, the only sound the occasional scrape of a fork against a plate. Leon chewed slowly, the memory of Luis lingering like a shadow in his mind.

After they finished, Amaris leaned back in her chair and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She lit one, taking a long drag, before sliding the pack across the table to Leon. He hesitated, then took one and lit it, exhaling as if to release the weight on his chest.

Breaking the silence, Amaris tapped her cigarette against the ashtray. "Let's open that letter."

Leon nodded, sitting up straighter. Whatever it contained, it was likely the next step in their mission—and it was time to focus.