Nefertiti walked slowly into the garden. Being sixteen, and feeling old enough to do as she pleased, she wore what suited her. What suited her was not the same as what her father and brother approved of. Since her mother had died when she was young, there had only been maids, and unfamiliar women throughout the palace. They never talked to her, gave her advice about anything. She only knew these things by watching these women when they flaunted over her father. She knew that was the only reason he even let them in the palace, for their beauty. She knew that the only way she would ever find her prince, was to dress in grace.

Her gown was a sheer silky satin, and could be seen through on a bright day. It was her choice of clothing since it was what she saw the other princesses wearing when they walked along with their charming princes. The only difference between them, and her was her hair. She couldn't se how they stood for having it swept up all the time. She preferred to let her midnight black hair fall to the middle of her back.

Nefertiti sat on a marble seat in the garden, and plucked a lush pink flower from the branches of an apple tree. She placed the flower behind her ear, letting her hair fall around it. She crossed her long legs over the arm of the seat, and let her hand fall into the fountain beside her. She imagined she was queen, and this was her castle. She imagined that she had a dashing prince waiting for her to return to him. She gazed up at the marble balcony, almost seeing him. She sighed, lost in her daydream. She didn't realize that dusk was falling, or that a guard was silently watching her through the shrubs near-by. She didn't know about the plans that had been approved just before dinner a few hours earlier.

As the sun fell, the moonlight illuminated the guard's sword, making her feel nervous. He brother, Imhotep, named after an architect, wanted his sister dead. The plan had been formed at her birth. She had been a girl instead of a boy. The king never wanted to risk having a woman rule the throne. So when Imhotep was old enough he had told him, to kill Nefertiti sometime after her sixteenth birthday.

Nefertiti looked around, wondering what she would use in defense if he were not a guard. She could see his reflection in the falling water of the fountain, and could sense danger, from the appearance on his face. She stood quickly, moving closer towards the palace, wishing she had never gone out into the garden, and stayed so long. She was now in serious danger, as he began to follow her. She took off running towards the entrance.

She didn't look behind her for fear that he would be holding a sword over her. Instead, she listened intently, and watched for shadows in front of her. She heard footsteps, and her heartbeat quickened. She could see shadows appearing in the light of the moon.

As an idea suddenly came to her, she turned in the other direction, and headed towards the balcony. She was sure that it would fool the guard, since he didn't know that she had left a white rope ladder tied below. She always left it there in case she wanted to slip out at night, and sleep in the garden until dawn. She dawdled near the flower, hoping that he would know what she was up to. She then turned, and looked up at the balcony. She saw her two dogs, Nero, and Ptolemy staring down at her. She knew that once she made it up the ladder, they would protect her, and she had many swords in her room as well.

The footsteps became quicker, and louder faster, and she froze. She looked around for the shimmer of the white rope, but saw none. She started to become nervous as the footsteps crept closer. She spun around, and heard a rustle, and saw a glint. She knew that whoever was following her must have hidden in the bushes. She kept her eyes on the glint, and felt around for the rope. Tears of fright clung to her eyelashes when she didn't immediately find the soft silk of the rope. She looked up at her dogs again, and saw the rope. She followed it down with her nervous eyes, until it reached her. She saw that it was only but a few feet away, but the reach might cost her. She casually stepped backward, and gripped the rope. She then turned, and pulled herself up the rope, kicking constantly at the rungs below her. Sweat held to her forehead, and back as she looked down.

To her greatest fear, the guard was climbing up as well. She scrambled up the remaining part of the rope, falling exhausted onto the marble balcony. She realized she must save herself, so ran into her room, and grabbed a sword. She swung it at her precious rope, and heard it fall, along with the guard that had been climbing. She looked down over at him, nervously clutching the necks of her two tall dogs. She watched to be sure he wasn't going to get up, and ran out into the hall, calling her dogs to follow.

"Nero! Ptolemy!" Her long clothing swept through the palace with her, and into her brother's room, were she collapsed. He looked up, surprised to see her alive. She called out to him.

"Imhotep! Save me. the guard." She gestured to the garden tiredly, "He chased me through the garden, and up into my balcony. I think he was trying to kill me. Please send someone to watch over me in my sleep, for I fear if you don't I won't wake up again." Imhotep thought for a moment, his fingers tickling the sword at his side, wondering whether he should kill her right then, and there.

"Don't worry, sister, I'll send a guard to be with you for the night." She smiled, and nodded at him. As she turned to leave, her intense eyes caught the glint of his sword, and her eyes followed it to his hand. A shiver traveled up her spine, her face broke out in a sweat. She suddenly became aware that he was the one who had planned her murder.

She hurried back to her room shutting the door, and latching it before her brother could send a guard in.