Sunkissed

Dinner

"You know," the pharaoh commented after our meal, "Ahkmen has been an admirer of you ever since he saw your first battle."

I choked on my wine and felt part of it snort out of my nose. My throat was on fire and my nostrils burned as I grabbed my napkin to cover over my nose. I began coughing violently into the cloth before handing my glass over to the slave that was standing next to me.

After I calmed down and cleaned up, I pounded my chest. When I looked up, I saw Chinjul silently sipping his own wine while casting his gaze off to the plant in the corner of the room.

Gods, that is embarrassing.

"Are you done, Ahkmen?" the pharaoh sterned.

He sat at the head of the table, looking powerful as ever. His headdress and neck collar glistened in the candle lights around the room with his eyeliner sharper than the glare he was giving me. His leopard skin hung over the tall backrest of his chair as his fingers tapped rhythmically over the armrest, his rings on display for our dinner guest.

I don't know, are you done embarrassing me in front of our guest?

"My apologies, Tata," I explained, "I was caught off guard by your remark."

The slave girl next to me gave me another glass of wine as the pharaoh decided to continue talking with our new guest.

"Anyways, what was I saying? Ah right. My son finds your style of fighting brilliant, where did you train, champion?"

Chinjul turned his attention back to us and set his glass down, "I..." he paused and looked like he was trying to find the words, "my father first taught me."

"He was a general," he stated.

"He must be very proud of you now that you've won the tournament then," the pharaoh chuckled, raising his glass of wine to cheers, but the look on Chinjul's face made me hold back on raising my own glass.

"Oh um," Chinjul gulped, "my father is... um... dead. Passed away when I was young."

I bit my lip and then raised my glass this time, "Chinjul, you fought valiantly in the tournament and I am sure if he was alive today, he would have been proud."

He smiled at me and raising his glass, "Thank you, Prince Ahkmen."

We drank to his father's memory and after a moment of silence, the pharaoh asked Chinjul to continue his story.

"Well," he started, "I quit school and started working when I was 13. I supported my mother and sister. When I was 15, my mother grew sick. We... we didn't have the money. She also passed away."

I exchanged glances with my father before looking back at Chinjul. My heart swelled in sympathy as I thought back to my own mother's death. I wanted more than anything to reach over the table and hold onto his hand, but instead, I just listened.

"My sister was able to go into an orphanage because she was still young. I was too old to be adopted, so I survived on the streets for a few years until I could join the army."

"Ah, so you are a military man?"

He tilted his head to the side with a slight shrug, "Uh, well... not anymore."

The pharaoh raised his eyebrow, "Meaning?"

"I later was assigned to protect the prince. He became emperor two years ago."

"Ah, so you were like a guardian then?"

"Guardian?" Chinjul asked.

"Like a protector," I chimed in as I began popping grapes into my mouth.