The Pharaoh Part III
Hello and welcome to the third and final part of my fanfiction trilogy. The Pharaoh is something I've been working on for many years, taken many breaks from, and spent many hours planning and thinking about. I'm mostly happy with the way it's come out, and I'm looking forward to ending it with a bang.
The Pharaoh trilogy is an alternate timeline look at the Ancient Egyptian events of the Yugioh canon. The plot is inspired by The Godfather trilogy, and the stories are a loose adaptation of that film series.
Part One and Part Two are available on my profile. In theory, each part can stand alone as it's own story, but to understand everything the entire trilogy is required.
This story is rated T for some mild language, violence, and adult themes.
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Chapter One: Latelife Crisis
A light, happy tune rang through the courtyard of Pharaoh Atemu's palace from the squad of reed pipes. The entire sandy plain was covered in people, eating fine food and drinking fine drink, taking in the festivities. Atemu stood up on high, at the top of his marble staircase, looking down at the party.
He glanced over to his right, at the neatly carved and trimmed slab of marble where the corpse of the former High Priest Seto lay. His long, lean body had been symmetrically aligned into a dignified, professional looking body, hands clasped on his chest and eyes closed peacefully.
Atemu chewed on his lower lip, feeling twinges of sadness claw at his stomach. Isis stood to his immediate right, noting the pitiful frown on the Pharaoh's face.
"I already miss him." Isis lamented. "All of Egypt will miss him."
"It was too early for him." Atemu turned back to look down at the masses. "Same age as me. Forty-three."
"He lived a good life." Isis took the two steps over to the marble surface where he lay. "As any life would be in service to you, my Pharaoh."
"I wish." Atemu looked over at Isis circling the body. She still had a grace and beauty about her even as old age brought on wrinkles and skin blemishes.
"You are your own worst critic, as always." Isis said, playing her right hand's fingers on Seto's left knee. "Your reign has been magnificent, you are the greatest Pharaoh to ever grace Egypt with your rule. Seto no doubt thanked the gods on a daily basis for being granted the honor of serving you."
Atemu chuckled, again biting his lower lip. "Stop kissing my butt so much."
"But it's the truth, Pharaoh Atemu." Isis insisted, coming back up to stand next to the Pharaoh.
"I'm getting older, you know." Atemu gave a wry smile. "The older you get, the less crap you want to hear. Scale it back a bit. It's my birthday, can't you give me that?"
She returned the smile. "If it would please your grace, I will speak more informally in your holy presence from now on."
"You and Mahad, all that remain of my original inner circle." Atemu remarked. "I wish they could have had longer lives. They have been taken from us too early. I wonder if the stress from their positions is to blame."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I feel great." Isis looked behind her at the palace entrance. "Speaking of which-"
"Mahad is not well." Atemu said grimly. "He came to pay his respects and wish me well, and I insisted he return to his bed."
Isis sighed, looking toward her left in the general direction of Mahad's palace. "Is it serious?"
"Depends on the application of that term." Atemu started to descend the massive stairs, Isis following. "I don't suspect he's at death's door this very second. But I do fear his time his nearing. This isn't the first time in recent memory he's fallen ill."
Isis took a moment to reflect on her own clean bill of health even in her aged state, wondering what the reasons for it might be.
"Seto had been falling ill frequently in the years leading up to his death." Atemu recalled mournfully. "We all saw it coming, nothing we could do about it. He served me loyally until the day it claimed him though. I couldn't have asked for a better High Priest."
"I will not disappoint in replacing him, Pharaoh." She assured him. "You have my word."
"I know you won't." Atemu nodded.
"I am sorry these sad thoughts must plague you during what should be a glorious day." Isis added, tapping his right shoulder with her left hand. "Your forty-third birthday should be a-"
"I am more than willing to share my day of celebration with Seto's day of memoriam." Atemu interrupted, coming to a stop halfway down the stairs, now able to make out rough facial features and light detail in the crowd close to the stairs.
"After your speech, I'll send the order out to begin the mourning and the public showing of respect." Isis stopped right behind him, just a step higher.
"Very good." Atemu sighed. His eyes fell on his son, the twenty-three year old Ammon, prince of Egypt and heir to the throne, sitting on the third step up on the right side, in conversation with a woman seated to his left.
"Let's talk about you, Pharaoh." Isis prompted, again patting his shoulder. "How are you? How do you feel?"
"Well. Pretty good, outside of the fact that my son hates me." Atemu said bitterly.
The woman turned her head to look up the stairs, then enthusiastically wave up at Atemu. Atemu returned the wave half-heartedly. It was Mana, the golden goose of his reign. The black magic powers within her, thought extinct for hundreds of years prior, powered the unstoppable juggernaut that was Egypt. With her vast abilities, Atemu could crush any opposing force in the blink of an eye, and thanks to her Egypt had grown so vast it threatened to consume the entire world.
When they had met, she was an adorable eight year old girl, but had now blossomed into a gorgeous twenty-three year old woman, a shapely figure now complimenting her enthusiastic and cheery personality. It was hardly a surprise when Ammon's pre-teen crush on her morphed into a full romantic relationship over the past decade, and now they spent almost all their time together.
"Don't be ridiculous." Isis chided. "Your son loves and adores you."
Atemu grunted, crossing his arms over his chest, glaring at the two young adults talking. "Sometimes I'm positive we accidentally switched babies twenty years ago. I can hardly believe he's my seed."
"Don't say things like that." Isis looked over his shoulder at the two. "Ammon is a wonderful young man, and you should be very proud of him."
"I don't know what they talk about all day." Atemu pursed his lips as he watched their conversation, well out of earshot of what was being said. "You know they've known each other for nearly fifteen years, and he still can't string together a sentence when she's around? All he has to do is see her and he goes all red, starts stammering like an idiot. And you can forget about it if she smiles at him. He almost wets himself. It's an embarrassment."
"I think it's cute." Isis said, smiling warmly at the sight of them leaning in closer to each other.
"He's a prince." Atemu deadpanned. "Girls should be throwing themselves at him. He has more to offer a woman than any man in the history of civilization. And he can hardly remember how to speak properly around Mana. It's disgraceful. I was a prince once, I never conducted myself in such a degrading manner around women."
"Well, I think they make a cute couple." Isis grabbed Atemu's elbows, squeezing them lightly. "You should be happy he's taken such a liking to Mana, at this point she's practically royalty."
Atemu spun around, glaring down at the shorter Isis, even with the help of the extra step. "You know that's not true." He grumbled. "You're one of the few who knows the truth behind Mana."
"And what's that supposed to mean?" She asked, forehead wrinkling more than it already was.
"Mana has served me well, and been invaluable to my reign. I have rewarded her handsomely for her service. But to have her officially brought into the royal family? Knowing how she came to be?" Atemu shook his head. "How am I supposed to feel about that?"
"She'd make a lovely princess and an even lovelier queen." Isis insisted. "I think you know that. She's a wonderful person. You couldn't ask for a sweeter girl."
"That's not the point." Atemu groaned, turning around to again look at the couple. His heart sank slightly as Mana leaned in to give his son a peck on the cheek. "If she enters the royal family, her blood becomes part of the lineage. I don't know if I can abide by that." He rubbed his forehead with his right hand. "He's going to ask her to marry him, I just know it. And they're going to ask me for my blessing. What am I supposed to say?"
Isis shrugged. "They will marry either way."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Atemu countered, turning away from the two lovebirds.
"Are you suggesting your son hates you because he's madly in love with a girl who was born through un-natural methods, even though he doesn't know anything about those un-natural methods?" Isis questioned as they again began a descent toward the teeming masses.
"It's more than that." Atemu moaned. "He's...he's just so...passive. I can hardly imagine him on the throne."
"He'll be fine." Isis soothed, pushing strands of black hair out of her face with her hands.
"I hoped he would come around with age, but he's twenty-three now. I'm afraid he is what he is at this point." Atemu was just a few steps away from the bottom, looking away from his son and Mana. "Have you seen his test scores? He's not terribly bright either."
"I seem to recall a certain someone writing that eight plus seven was eighty-seven on an intelligence test once upon a time." Isis said playfully.
"I was seven." Atemu replied defensively, even as a smirk played across his lips. "It's just...when it comes time to make the tough decisions that a Pharaoh has to make, I don't know if he'll make the right ones."
"Your son will make a fine Pharaoh. Particularly in that by the time you give him the throne, Egypt will be the only country standing on this half of the planet." She insisted. "How many hard decisions are there going to be for him when you've already crushed all of Egypt's rivals?"
Atemu nodded. "I...I suppose." He looked around at the crowd he was now very nearly level with.
"Looking for someone?" Isis asked, similarly casting her eyes about.
"N-no." Atemu lied. There was one individual he had hoped would be there today. One who's lack of presence bothered him. He closed his eyes, thinking on the events of three days ago.
""""
Atemu could feel the aged woman stiffen as he entered the room. She was hanging a pile of cleaned and dried robes in the closet of the Pharaoh, delicately placing the fine silk cloth on hooks and hangers. Atemu watched her fumble with the wooden hangar in her hands, gasping as she dropped the robe to the ground.
He slowly approached her, watching her begin to shake in fear as she bent down to pick it up, not looking at her new master. Taking pity on her, he raised his right hand toward her and beckoned her towards him with his finger.
"Kisara." He sidestepped over to the left, toward the massive purple cushion against the back wall. She froze. "Come here."
She swallowed hard, taking staggered, unsteady steps out of the closet and onto the carpeted floor of Pharaoh Atemu's bedroom. Quickly, she melted down to the floor in a kneeling position, forehead on the thick carpet, getting herself down as low as possible.
"That's enough." Atemu said, sitting down on the large, pillowy couch. "Come here."
Uneasily, she brought herself up into a pose of supplication. Blue eyes wide, reflecting great fear, she kept her head down as she started to crawl toward the sitting Pharaoh.
"Get up." He leaned back in the large chair.
Breathing laboredly, she rose into an upright kneeling position, staring in confusion at Atemu.
"Stand up." He ordered. She saw no choice but to comply, noting with horror that her head was now up higher than his.
She approached the holy man, the man who held within in the blood of the gods, bare feet sinking into the carpet with every heavy step.
He pointed down at the couch next to him with his right index finger, smiling warmly. "Sit down." He instructed.
Shaking in terror, she eased her bottom down onto the cushion right where Atemu had instructed, big beautiful eyes staring right into the Pharaoh's face. She hunched over in her seat, the blood rising to her cheeks and bringing a red tint to her pale skin.
And then, suddenly, he leaned in toward her and embraced her small figure in a hug. She started to whimper in fear as Atemu wrapped his big arms around her shoulders, chest rising as she pushed air in and out of her lungs as fast as she could.
"Shh. Shh." He soothed. "It's okay. It's okay."
In the comfort of his arms, she slowly started to relax, his warm embrace offering no indication of punishment forthcoming.
"Are you okay? You doing alright?" He asked, pulling away from the hug.
She nodded, a quick rapid bob of her head.
"It's okay. I know it's tough. I miss him too. You can talk to me." He stroked his right hand through her long white hair.
"I loved him." She whispered. "S-so much."
"He loved you very much." He responded, she giving a quick nod again as a tear dropped down her cheek. "I...I can still remember how he pleaded for your life." He looked down at the ground in shame. "He was a proud man. But for you..."
"I spent fifteen years in his palace. Every night, going to bed with him. Every night, being held by him. I would not trade those fifteen years for fifteen thousand years of living as a princess of Egypt. I would not trade them for anything." Kisara said softly, more tears threatening to emerge from her eyes. "You graced me with those fifteen years, mighty Pharaoh. You had every right...every reason to have me killed long ago, and you spared me. You gave me those fifteen years, and for that I am forever in your debt."
Atemu patted her right shoulder. "I would have been a true monster to take you from Seto. He served me so loyally and meant so much to my reign." He swallowed. "I want to apologize."
She turned to look up at him, a dumbfounded expression on her face.
"For making you work as a slave all these years. I...I didn't need to do that." He said wistfully. "I...I regret it. If I could do it again, I would have let you stay in Seto's palace as a permanent guest. My forcing you into slavery was...was a cruel decision on my part, one I made out of anger, and it robbed you of much time you could have spent together. I am sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for, mighty Pharaoh." Kisara bowed her head toward him. "Sparing my life is more kindness than I deserved, and my work as a slave is the very least I can offer in payment."
He again glanced down at the ground. "I...I henceforth release you from your servitude to Egypt." He gave another warm smile at her look of shock. "There is no reason for you to remain here any longer. You're free."
"I swore I would loyally serve your holiness unconditionally, every day, so long as I lived, and-"
"I release you from your duties." He insisted, pulling a strand of pale white hair out of her face. "It's the very least I can do after forcing you to work as a slave all these years. Seto would have wanted this. It will be my final gift to him."
A couple tears dripped into her lap, as a tiny smile played on her lips.
"I'll arrange for you to be moved to a nice house downtown. Set you up with a nice account of gold. You'll never have to work a day for the rest of your life, I promise it."
"Y-you don't have to-"
"Yes, I do." He said strongly. "I insist on it."
She inhaled deeply, than nodded. "Oh, mighty Pharaoh, your kindness is vast beyond the comprehension of mortals."
"You may return to your quarters and collect...collect your possessions." He pointed at the door to the bedroom. "A carriage will be waiting to take you to your new home."
She exchanged a meaningful glance with the Pharaoh, then stood up. "I am eternally grateful for all of the kindness you have shown me."
He too stood up, holding his hands out at his sides. "Come. We may never see each other again."
She leaned in, embracing his torso in a hug, tightly clenching him to her body.
"I'm getting older. Physical contact, the touch of a human...I'm valuing such things more and more with every passing day." He commented.
In response, she leaned in and gave him a small kiss on the right cheek. He stared at her in some shock at her boldness, and for a split second she was worried she had overstepped her bounds. But he gave a small chuckle and smiled, comforting her.
"Seto's body is within the main room of his palace. Take all the time you'd like to pay your respects to him." Atemu said as she pulled away, turning to leave.
"Thank you, mighty Pharaoh." She answered, slowly heading toward the door.
"His public tribute will take place in three days. On my birthday. Perhaps I'll see you?" Atemu added.
"I will attend. We may not meet, but I will be there." She answered.
He nodded as she disappeared through the door.
""""
Atemu sat at the head of the sandstone table, placed just a few meters in front of the stairs. A bubble of sorts had been formed y the crowd around it, a few meters of empty space given by the masses. Around the table were seated the rest of the world leaders, presiding over their tiny remaining scraps of land, having long resigned themselves to complete destruction at the hands of Egypt. Completely helpless to defend themselves against his power, they had spent the last decade waiting for the hammer to fall.
However, the hammer had never quite shown up. Atemu had been slowing his attacks down over time, and it was now down to a snail's pace, nipping at the corners of their territories. It was as if he was playing with them, playing with his food before eating it. So small were the remaining lands of all other countries, some of the leaders were hoping he would just finish the job and get it over with.
But he wouldn't. Even though all of their armies had been shredded to near-nothingness, even though none of them had any means to defend themselves any longer, and even though most of them had managed to transport a significant portion of their treasures and riches to the tiny remaining scraps of land they possessed, he would not finish the job.
"Seto was as fine a High Priest as has ever lived. He was my nephew, connected to me by thick blood bonds. The blood of the gods ran through him as it did me, and he always conducted himself as such. He never once spoke a word of complaint, never took any issue with having to be the High Priest rather than the Pharaoh. He thought it was an honor to serve me as High Priest, an honor he never besmirched. And it was an honor to be served by him." Atemu spoke, glancing around at the uninterested eyes of the people at the table. They didn't much care to hear his praises. He didn't care.
"Even in his last days, as standing and talking was a burden, he continued to serve me loyally. It was only after we finished our final project together, hours after the final details had been hammered out, that he allowed himself to rest. He died shortly after. He willed himself to stay alive until the project had finished. Today, I present that project to the world. The final works of High Priest Seto, and what will be my final act as Pharaoh of Egypt."
Now, the attentions of the table were on him as he reached underneath the sandstone and pulled out a massive roll of parchment. He pushed it across the table, letting it unfurl. Partway down the table, Turkish King Can and Sudan King Raj caught the corners, holding it out flat.
"A map of the world as we know it." He explained. The entire table peered down at the carefully drawn and painted map, Egypt at the epicenter. The country had expanded to an absurd size, perhaps six or seven times the size it had been when Atemu took the throne. All other countries were so small and insignificant it was nearly comical. However, of note was that several large portions of Egyptian territory had been coated with red ink, land close to the borders of the country. The meaning currently lost on the table, Atemu began to speak.
"Egypt has grown immensely over the past quarter-century. The quarter-century since my father was ripped from the throne before his time had come." He met the eyes of every single person at the table, one by one. "I do not regret my choices. I'd do it again if given the chance."
He looked back down at the map, then back down the table.
"But today. Today, I forgive. Today, I lay down my arms. Twenty-five years after the atrocity that you all helped commit, I will forgive." He nodded. "Egypt will cease their attacks, effective immediately. No more will your countries' borders be assaulted by Egyptian armies, unless we are provoked."
He reached under the table, silence engulfing the table, coming up with a much smaller scroll of parchment. He kicked it open, revealing the wordy contents. "Here is the peace treaty me and Seto have written up. It is the first of two parts of our final project. The terms are quite simple. Egypt will cease attacks on all other countries for a hundred years. A hundred year peace, at the very minimum. I ask for only the same from all of you. None of you will launch attacks on Egypt, or any other country for that matter, for a century."
A man to Atemu's left gave a small snort. Emperor Homer, leader of the tiny shreds of Greece that still remained. He ignored it.
"Anyone who breaks the peace treaty will be subject to suffer all the might the rest of the world can muster." Atemu continued. "However, if everyone is willing to abide by it, we will have a long period of peace for all of us to lick our wounds, rebuild, pick up the pieces from this long time of bloodshed."
Someone a little down the right side of the table rolled his eyes. Ahmed, King of Libya. He ignored this too.
He passed the parchment onto Homer, also reaching below the table to pull out a reed pen. He handed this to him as well. "Your choice."
Slowly, Homer read the parchment, taking in every word carefully, weighing every sentence. Atemu simply stared at him for several minutes, until he finally, slowly, raised the pen to sign his name on the bottom.
He passed it along, Atemu nodding. "Very good. I want peace, gentlemen. I desire it. I desire to hand off a kingdom in peace to my heir. I would want nothing more. I don't want to fight anymore." He shot everyone a quick glance again. "However, should any of you decline to sign the treaty, I will take that as a declaration of continued war, and I promise to crush the remaining crumbs of your territories within the moon cycle." He added menacingly.
The remaining signatures came much more quickly, as everyone understood that there was really no other choice. Atemu was poised to grind any of them into the dirt at a moment's notice, and this piece of paper would be the only thing holding him back.
Several minutes later, the parchment got back around to Atemu, signed by every single other world leader. His large signature had already been placed at the very bottom, just to the left of Seto's. He tucked it inside of his shirt, nodding.
"Very good. Now, do you see the colored portions of Egypt on this map?" He pointed back at the large mural, drawing attention back to it. "I am very proud of the way in which Egypt has expanded over the past twenty-five years. But I feel that it may have grown beyond the capabilities of a single man to rule over. I feel it would be pragmatic to shrink my territories, so I could better protect my borders. With less territory to concern me, I can put more time and resources into cities and undeveloped land, improving the overall state of my empire." He gestured down at the red painted territories on the map. "These painted areas represent slightly less than a third of Egypt's current territory. The areas I no longer want." He steepled his fingers in front of his face, elbows on the table. "Gentlemen. I offer these areas to all of you."
He enjoyed the silence as everyone stared at him, letting it hang for a few seconds.
"All of this land you see here. I'm willing to part with it, to any of you." He re-iterated, tapping the map with his right index finger.
"In exchange for what?" Homer asked, finally breaking Atemu's monologue.
Atemu gave a tiny smirk. "Fair market value."
"Our budgets are stretched thin as it is, thanks to you." King Islem of Algeria objected.
"I think your budgets would change significantly if you factored in our peace treaty." Atemu countered coolly. "I know all of you have made every effort to retain as much of your riches as you could, and maintain sizable vaults in your last standing cities. I'm going to be selling territories to the highest bidder, amongst the men at this table. Now, I drive a hard bargain, and you might have to dip into your retirement funds a little to make ends meet. But you're all smart, resourceful world leaders, and you're all capable of finding a way to pull it off."
"So let me get this straight." Homer said languidly. "You're gonna hold an auction for all this land, we're gonna buy it, and you're just gonna abandon it and let us move in?"
"That's the idea. I'll order Egyptian citizens to abandon all cities within the exchanged territories, and then it's all yours. And you can do whatever you like with it." Atemu rubbed his chin with his left hand.
"And how do we know you're not gonna just swoop right back in and take it all back after you get our gold?" Can asked, forehead furrowed. "Not like we could stop you."
"My name is on the peace treaty too." Atemu responded simply. "If I sold you land, then retook it, that would be in violation of it."
Ahmed cleared his throat. "And who's the higher authority holding you to sticking with the treaty?"
"You'll forgive us if a piece of paper fails to entirely convince us of your good intentions." Homer agreed. "How do we know you're going to stick to the treaty?"
"You don't." Atemu said, glaring Homer down. "But I will." He stood up from the chair.
"You will?" Raj repeated, thoroughly unconvinced. "That's the best assurance you have?"
"That's the only assurance I have." Atemu again looked down at the light brown map. "I can not guarantee my continued cooperation in this endeavor beyond that. What I can guarantee, however, is that none of you will survive much longer without participating in this deal. Your remaining lands are so small, your kingdoms threaten to collapse in on themselves. Decline my offer, and by this time next year, you won't be kings and emperors anymore, with or without my attacks. In short, you have little choice." He turned away from the table, about to head up the stairs. "Negotiations begin in two weeks."
"I'm in." Can said when Atemu was two steps up.
"Count me in." Ahmed said grudgingly, holding his hand up in the air.
"You're free to take as much time as you like to consider my offer. However, in two weeks time, I will begin the process of selling land regardless of how many are participating." He waved to the table. "That's all, gentlemen."
""""
"A most wonderful final act as Pharaoh." Isis shook Atemu's hand as he sat on his glorious golden throne, a tiny smile on his face. "You are truly wise, fair, and merciful to come up with such an arrangement."
He nodded. "I am pleased with it. As was Seto." It was late evening now, the party had long since dispersed and Seto's body moved into a private memorial room in the lower levels of the palace. The sun just barely played through the windows, sending long shadows across the marble floor of the throne room.
"It's perfect." She enthused. "You get to shrink and condense your territories, allowing a closer concentration of defenses and focus. Our border guards will be impenetrable for centuries to come."
Atemu leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. "I do look forward to it."
"And all surrounding countries, they'll be too busy rebuilding their bought lands to even consider attacking anyway for years and years. And even when they're done, there's not going to be much they can do."
"Egypt will be safe for centuries, even after the peace expires." Atemu concurred.
"And...what will you do with all of that gold?" She asked. "All of that land must be worth...worth at least...ten billion gold debens!" Inspite of herself, she got excited at the thought of such figures. "Ammon will appreciate such an influx of riches."
"What won't I do with it?" He asked rhetorically, hand on his chin. "I can eliminate poverty within Egypt, there will be no more slums or ghettos within my cities. I can invest in medicine research, improving health and life spans for everyone. The economy will soar to previously unreached heights. Egypt will become the greatest empire to ever exist within the mortal realm, and will stand as such for thousands of years." He closed his eyes in thought, still smiling to himself. "My final gift to Egypt will be this assurance of glory and dominance."
"And you have made peace too." Isis added. The smile faded from his lips, eyes downcast, but he nodded all the same.
"Yes. Peace." He repeated.
The massive wooden doors to the throne room burst open, knocking the pair out of their visions of the future. Two large, muscular guards held a tall, thin man between them, arms behind his back, him struggling and fighting with every step they pushed him toward the throne.
The Pharaoh and High Priestess stood there as he was dragged forward, never ceasing to fight the trek across the marble floor. After a minute of grunts and groans, they had brought him before the Pharaoh, forcing him to his knees.
"We caught him breaking into High Priest Seto's memorial room." The left guard explained as he continued to fight. Atemu looked him over. He appeared to be in his early to mid 20s, strong and stark features. Atemu felt a strange shiver in his spine as he acknowledged how familiar he looked, but pushed it from his mind.
"What did he do?" Isis asked, hands behind her back, looking at the intruder disdainfully.
"Nothing!" He growled, drawing a slap on the back of the head from the right guard.
"We saw no evidence of any tampering, but he was in there unsupervised for a short time." The right guard detailed, pushing his right foot on the lower leg of the intruder to keep him in a kneeling position.
"You've picked a poor time to be defiling the tomb of my former High Priest." Atemu glared at the young adult. "Such disrespect is worth a death sentence even under the best of times."
"I wasn't defiling anything!" He grunted, ceasing to struggle against the restraint of the guards.
"Then what was your business down there?" Atemu folded his hands in his lap.
"I was...I was trying to pay my respects!" He scowled up at the two guards that held him down.
"His public tribute was earlier today, there was plenty of time to give him your respects then." Atemu said matter-of-factly.
"Gimme a break." He grumbled. "Saying a prayer in a sea of people? Getting a quick glimpse of his body?"
"Your respect for Seto is appreciated, but that public tribute has always served as an adequate show of respect for Egyptian citizens." Atemu cocked his head to the right.
"I'm not just an Egyptian citizen, you old fart!" He screeched, causing the right guard to remove a small blade from his belt and press it up against his neck. Leaning back, away from the metal dagger, he did not pull his eyes from the Pharaoh. "I'm his son!"
Atemu concealed the flips his stomach performed and the accelerated beating of his heart, maintaining a flat expression after these words even as his insides turned.
"Didn't know he had a son?" He hissed, a mad grin playing across his mouth. "Well, he did. He's standing...kneeling...right in front of you, and I'll be damned if a public memorial is enough to-"
"Gag him." Atemu said flatly, pointing at his two guards flanking the intruder. The one on the left pulled a cloth from his waist and shoved it into his open mouth, muting his words and reinvigorating his struggles. "Take him down to the dungeons." The two nodded, picking him back up and dragging him away as the one on the left held his right hand over his mouth. "He speaks to no one, keep him gagged. Not a word to anyone until I arrive."
The two watched the madly struggling man get dragged across the marble, fighting the inevitable.
"Well. That was quite something." Isis remarked as the massive wooden door shut behind the trio. "What a fantastic tale."
Atemu nodded, reaching down with his right hand to grab a golden, jeweled goblet from a low platform next to his throne. He brought it to his lips, welcoming the purple liquid into his mouth.
"Not a terribly conceived lie, though." Isis admitted. "He did look an awful lot like Seto."
Atemu merely nodded, draining his drink, deep in thought.