The Brat Pharaoh| Dark! Tutankhamun X Reader

Chapter Twelve

Tutankhamun decided to hold a party in yours and his honour.

And the theme of the party is wearing masks of the gods or being dressed like them.

Which is weird because it's not a religious ceremony to begin with.

But who are you to question the pharaoh's weird annoucement.

So, you decided to go, dressed exactly like Isis.

But you didn't expect that Tutankhamun would dress like Osiris.

And has his skin painted malachite green.

Malechite green which is copper carbonate hydroxide which is toxic to the skin.

Not a great choice.

"You look handsome."

You compliment him hesitantly as the young pharaoh smiles at you.

"And you look the reborn of Isis herself"

You chuckle, playfully shaking your head at him.

"And I thought, you didn't believe in such drunken priests gods?" you replay his words teasefully.

Tutankhamun chuckles softly, his emerald-green-painted face lighting up with amusement.

"I don't, but even a Pharaoh can indulge in theatrics for the sake of a good celebration, can't he?"

You arch a brow, your skepticism evident.

"I think you're enjoying this far more than you let on."

He leans in closer, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Perhaps, but maybe I'm enjoying your presence even more."

Before you can respond, the grand hall erupts in lively music, and belly dancers and male dancers dressed as various deities begin their performance.

As you sit beside Tutankhamun, you watch the show with amusement and happiness.

The belly dancing is something to behold, unlike modern belly dancers who dance like they are vibrating phones.

However, someone caught your eye, a male dancer to be more specific.

He's wearing Seth's mask, and his movements are fluid yet commanding, exuding an air of confidence that feels almost otherworldly.

It isn’t just the skill of his dance that captivates you, it’s the way his attention seems solely fixed on you.

His grey eyes, barely visible behind the mask, lock with yours, and for a moment, the world around you fades.

There’s something familiar about him, something unsettlingly intimate, though you can’t quite place it.

Tutankhamun notices your distraction, his jaw tightening as he follows your gaze.

When he sees the dancer, his lips curl into a scowl.

"You find him interesting?" he asks, his voice low and laced with irritation.

You glance at Tutankhamun, startled by the sharpness of his tone.

"He's just a performer, my Pharaoh," you reply smoothly, hoping to defuse his jealousy.

"An excellent one, yet no one dares to compare to you."

Tutankhamun doesn’t look convinced.

His eyes narrow, and he shifts in his seat, clearly debating whether to have the dancer removed.

As in having the dancer get tortured to death.

Before he can act, the dancer spins closer, his movements like a storm closing in.

He ends his routine mere feet from where you sit, lowering himself gracefully onto one knee.

The gesture is bold, almost defiant, and it earns murmurs from the crowd.

"Your radiance humbles even the gods, my lady," the dancer says, his voice deep and rich, carrying across the room despite its softness.

But you knew the voice, it's Matvei's voice clearly.

And it seems like Tutankhamun also noticed the sound of the familiar voice as he chuckled before saying.

"Of course, you would dress up as the envious brother of Osiris."

Matvei removes the Seth mask completely, revealing his smirking face.

His confidence radiates as he stands tall, meeting Tutankhamun's piercing gaze.

The tension in the air sharpens, making you uncomfortable.

"And you," Matvei replies smoothly, gesturing to Tutankhamun's Osiris-like appearance.

"Would choose to play the role of the beloved god who is cut into pieces by his own kin, how fitting, don't you think?"

This time, you have made a decision.

You aren't going to help Matvei, he has clearly brought this upon himself.

Suddenly you hear a loud scream echoing through the halls.

As Heqet storms in, with fear on her face.

"My Pharaoh, My queen, you have to come and see this, quickly!"

Your heart drops, thinking that something bad has happened to Tetisheri.

𓁪𓁥𓁢

You and Tutankhamun stared wide eyes at the now seven year old girl.

However, you two knew that this is Tetisheri, and there is no way to deny it with her looks.

"The young princess transformed into this in front of my own eyes, I swear-"

"We believe you" Tutankhamun cuts her off, not taking his eyes off of his child.

"Tetisheri?" He calls her name, still trying to process what is happening.

The child smiles sheepishly, her cheeks turning red in embarrassment.

"Hello...Baba...Mama..."