Wow...these are some mighty quick uploads. I hope you guys are having as much fun with this as I am. I forgot how much fun fanfiction can be. But anyways, here it is! I hope you enjoy. Please drop me a review! ^_^


Pharaoh

Chapter 4


After a few days, Sakura found she had the routine down. It was all very much as Rika had said when she'd first arrived. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, with walking around in between. It was peaceful, but Sakura knew she would be starting to feel stir-crazy any day now. Surely there was something for an Egyptian concubine to do.

The Pharaoh hadn't come to her room, not since that night. She heard him sometimes when he went down the hall to one of the other rooms, but he never stopped at hers, aside from that first night. It was like he was giving her space, time to accommodate. She almost felt grateful to him. But she knew that he was really just the arrogant windbag he'd been when they'd spoken, and each time she had seen him since that night, he'd acted no differently toward her, and she'd acted no differently in response.

The other concubines, who Sakura was slowly warming up to, seemed to absolutely adore him. He seemed like more than the Pharaoh to them. Like a friend, or a part of their little family, which was maybe a little weird. Whenever she caught him talking to one of them alone, she had to admit he looked warmly upon them and never gave them a foul word. While it seemed to speak to his character, Sakura refused to let it, because he never said more than unpleasantries to her, never gave more than an eyeroll.

Now she sat at the fountain where she'd first stumbled into the Pharaoh, perched on its blanched edge, swirling her fingers around in the clear water. She watched the ripples expand and expand until they hit the stone barriers, gently splashing up.

As a royal concubine, she was adorned in the finest clothes and jewels. Every day felt like a game of dress up. In all the years she'd spent as a Lady, she'd never enjoyed such fanciful garments as she did now, or eaten such fine foods, drunk such fine wine. It was almost . . . nice. Like an escape from the encroaching poverty of her father's house. It felt like a betrayal to herself and her country, but Sakura was nearly starting to like her life here.

She stroked the rings on her fingers, rubies glinting in the hot sun, and looked around. She was alone. Not a single other soul occupied the courtyard. While she was beginning to like the other concubines, she found she rarely got to enjoy their company. They all seemed to be somewhere, all the time, except for at dinner and some other points later in the day. Sakura was never invited, and it was never spoken of, but they were all certainly off doing something. Her curiosity gnawed at her, fuelled by her loneliness.

There was not much to be done about that, she supposed. She was a foreigner here, and very new. She couldn't expect to always be included. The Hittite stood and stretched with a sigh. There was the catch in her new life then; loneliness. As she strolled around the deserted courtyard, the sun warming her like a blanket, she thought of her brother, Touya. How she'd loved him. How it had been years since she'd seen him and she feared she was beginning to forget his face. He'd left home to be a soldier, and that was the last she and her father had heard. She willed herself not to think about it. She wasn't in the mood to keep getting upset.

"Miss Sakura."

She turned at the sound of her name spoken by an unfamiliar voice. A man stood a few feet away from her, next to the fountain. He was tall and skinny, looking rather like an obelisk in the blazing sun. His dark hair was long and straight, tied back behind him. He watched her carefully, his face both kind and cryptic, his eyes crinkled with his smile. Nervously, she wrung her hands, aware of how alone she was with this mysterious man.

"How can I help you?" she asked after a few moments, clasping her fingers together so she would stop fidgeting.

He clasped his hands behind his back, his movements deliberate and smooth, his white robes swarming in layers around him. Sakura wondered if he stayed so skinny by always wearing that and constantly sweating profusely beneath it. "My name is Reed. I am the palace priest. I thought I would come and introduce myself, and let you know that you are always welcome at the palace Temple."

Sakura managed a smile and dipped her head. "Ahh . . . thank you. That's very kind." She didn't want to be disrespectful so she didn't bring up the fact that she was Anatolian and didn't follow their religion in the slightest.

Reed smiled and nodded back. A breeze picked up around them, blowing Sakura's hair around her face and her dress around her legs. Reed closed his eyes and seemed to relish the wind, which struck Sakura as sudden and random, and then opened them and tilted his head to the side, staring at her. Or maybe through her would be a better description. He seemed to see all of her, her past, her thoughts, her secrets. It sent a chill through her. And then he just said, "Interesting."

Anxious footsteps echoed around the courtyard, sandals slapping against the gleaming stone. Sakura turned to see the Pharaoh rushing down the hall, sticking his head in the concubine's rooms.

"They're gone," Sakura called out, startling him. His head whipped around to face her, and he straightened. She shrugged. "Don't ask me. But none of them are here." She turned back to Reed, opening her mouth to say something, but he was gone. All right. Weird. Creepy.

She returned her gaze to the Pharaoh. He bit his lip, his eyes a bit far away. Sakura cocked her head, taking him in. For the first time since she'd met him, he was really dressed like a Pharaoh. Thick lines of kohl ringed his eyes, and his hair was completely covered by a Nemes headdress, striped blue and gold, hanging down the back of his neck and around his shoulders. A thick golden necklace hung around his throat, and his shendyt was dressier than usual, with blue and gold trim and an elaborately designed snake belt holding it in place. A lion's tail was also wrapped around his waist, just above his hips. The sun lit him up from the perfect angle, and for a grudging moment, she could see why the Egyptians would think he was a god.

"You're dressed up," she remarked, folding her arms and leaning against one of the stone pillars.

He cast a tired glance at her. "You don't know where Rika is?"

Sakura shook her head.

He raised his hand as if to run it through his hair, and then remembered the Nemes and dropped it. "Chiharu? Naoko? Any of them?"

She raised her hands. "Just me, Your Highness." And that Reed guy, but he was gods knew where now.

The Pharaoh let out a loud groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Gods help me. I suppose I need you to accompany me, Sakura."

She frowned. "Accompany you where? Nice to know I'm the very last choice."

"A state luncheon. Don't worry, you needn't speak. In fact, please don't," he said, holding his hands up. "Just look pretty and fawn over me. It shouldn't he hard." He smirked.

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Fine. Just know that if I had a choice, I'd pick you last too."

The Pharaoh shook his head and held out his arm for her to take. "No you wouldn't."

She flushed and glared at him as she walked over and took his arm, which made him smile. She felt the hard muscle coiled on his arms and glanced up at him. He was already looking back at her, a corner of his fine lined mouth turned up smugly, his kohl-lined eyes bright. He was beautiful and he knew it, which made Sakura want to smack him.

He brushed her hair back with his hand. "What—" she started to say.

"It's too bad we can't get you done up properly, but for now we'll say we're showcasing your Hittite charms," he said, his eyes flicking over her face.

She gave him a pointed look. "Oh, so they're charms now, are they?"

"Yes. So primitive and adorable."

Sakura huffed and clenched her teeth.

The Pharaoh led her through the palace, down hallways she'd never been through before. The rest of it was just as beautiful as her little concubine's corner. Perfectly cut stone and packed sand, elaborate drawings of the gods, breathtakingly large rooms and corridors.

Finally they arrived at tall doors, carved with images of who she assumed was Osiris. The Pharaoh turned to her. "Remember. Don't speak. No rage-filled outbursts tonight, I beg you."

She batted her lashes at him. "Your wish is my command," she said sweetly.

He groaned and pushed open the door, assuming a dazzling smile as he dragged her in next to him.

It was a large dining hall with many important looking people seated around the long table. They all looked to be wearing poker faces. The Pharaoh led Sakura to the head of the table and they sat.

"My deepest apologies for keeping you all waiting, my friends," he announced. "Let's begin immediately."

Oh great. A political meeting. Sakura forced herself to keep her posture straight and her expression pleasant, though she felt like falling asleep on the spot.

"When is the Daidouji girl expected to arrive?" one man asked.

"Three days from now," another answered.

"Is everything prepared properly? All of her chambers?" the Pharaoh asked, directing the question at a man a few seats away from him. The man nodded. "Excellent. This visit needs to be perfect."

Sakura glanced at him, an eyebrow raised.

The meeting went on like that, seeming to last forever. At first, Sakura was interested, listening in if half-heartedly, but after a while it became very repetitive. These people were all extremely worried about this impending visit from Daidouji. The name rang a bell for Sakura, but she couldn't say from where. Obviously someone very important. It seemed a lot rested on this visit. She hoped she'd get to see this very important person, and wondered if she would be as terrible as the Pharaoh.

Finally they turned to other subjects. Palace events, crop harvests, criminals, taxes, and Sakura tuned in again. Her interest was especially peaked when someone referenced her directly.

"Going with the theme of Anatolians," he said, nodding at her, "a band of them has been spotted repeatedly wandering around our borders."

Sakura frowned.

The Pharaoh glanced at her, and nodded. "Have they been causing any trouble? Are they soldiers, nomads, bandits, what?"

The man shook his head. "Still uncertain, sire. Anatolian rags are always hard to identify. But surely they have some kind of malicious intent, they're Anatolians."

Sakura bristled and leaned forward. "And just what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

The man looked at her, surprise written all over his face. "Excuse me?"

"Sakura," the Pharaoh breathed warningly.

But she continued. "You think that they mean some harm just because they're from Anatolia?"

He set his jaw, his mouth curling into a sneer. "Of course."

Sakura's fists clenched. "How many of my people have you taken prisoner just because they're Anatolian?"

"I take prisoner those who are obvious aggressors."

"And Anatolians are automatically aggressors?" Sakura pressed.

"Always," the man snarled, his face twisting with his sneer.

"Have you ever considered," Sakura said, making herself breathe slowly, "that they are aggressive because you never give them a chance to be otherwise?

"Just look at you." He gestured to her. His face was red in anger. She imagined she looked much the same. "Look at how upset you are, like a match lit."

Sakura narrowed her eyes at him disbelievingly. "Thank you for proving my point."

"And what point is that?" He looked smug.

"That my people are only aggressive because you savages insult us from the first," she spat, and threw herself back in her chair, crossing her arms.

"Sakura, you buffoon, I told you not to speak!" the Pharaoh chided, but he was laughing, his hand on his stomach as he shook with the action. "Why can't you just follow orders?"

She studied her nails, feigning boredom. "Guess I'm just too much of a barbarian."

The Pharaoh burst into laughter, and Sakura found herself with a tiny smile. He waved off the others in the room. "Leave the Anatolian group be for now. Meeting dismissed."

Everyone stood and bowed, but Sakura didn't miss the looks she got, especially from the man she'd yelled at.

The Pharaoh stood and offered her his arm, like he had before, and she took it, heaving herself out of her chair. "That was quite a display. I want to be angry, but it was honestly too entertaining. That guy is way too prejudiced."

Sakura gasped and snatched her hand away. The Pharaoh looked confused. "He's prejudiced?" she nearly shouted. She flicked her hand at him. "You're one to talk! You absolute hypocrite! You're even worse than he is!"

He had the decency to flush with colour, recoiling. "Sakura, I—"

She jabbed a finger into his rock-hard chest. "You think you're so superior, Pharaoh, because you're supposed to be some kind of god. Well, you're the same two-faced coward as everyone else in this damn country." Her father's face flashed through her mind, his expression as he informed her that he was selling her off to pay gambling debts. Gambling debts. She threw her hands up. "In this world."

He glanced around, making sure there was no witness to this. "I'm—it's not that—you just—" He straightened, frowning. "You can't yell at me."

Sakura let out a ferocious sound, a mix between a groan and a grunt. "You, Pharaoh, are absolutely infuriating."

He clenched his teeth. "I could say the same about you."

She glared at him, and then stomped away.

"My name isn't Pharaoh," he yelled as she approached the door. She put her hand on the handle. "It's Syaoran."

Her fingers tightened around it. "Whatever," she muttered, and yanked the door open.

She marched through the halls, back to her courtyard, thinking of what she called him. A two-faced coward. That's what he seemed to her. One moment, disrespecting her and her people, the next, presuming to be on her side. And then he had the gall to act hurt and haughty when she got cross about it. She huffed and gave up on her search for the concubine courtyard, throwing herself down in a window seat in the corridor, staring out at the sun.

She sat there for a while, thinking about that Anatolian group. Who were they? Were they people she might have known? Maybe she could find them. She wondered if that horrible man would have them captured anyway.

And then there were footsteps rushing down the hall. She looked up and saw the Pharaoh – Syaoran – running over to her. She set her face in a frown and so did he.

"What is it, Pharaoh?" she asked, purposely not using the name he'd told her.

He pursed his lips, studying her, and then sighed. "I came to apologize," he said quietly.

Her eyebrows shot up. That she hadn't expected.

"Really," he went on, "I am sorry. About everything – about all of it."

Sakura swallowed, searching his face for some kind of mockery, but found none. This really appeared to be an honest apology. She bit her lip, trying to find the right response. She wasn't even sure what she wanted to say now.

But she didn't have to say anything. A guard came barrelling over to them, nearly crashing into Syaoran. His breaths came in heaves, sweat trailing down his face, terror real in his eyes.

"Your Majesty – Your Majesty," he sputtered between breaths.

"Spit it out, man," Syaoran said, putting his hand on the guard's armoured shoulder.

"It's one of the concubines, sire," he said. Syaoran's gaze flicked to Sakura. "One of the concubines has been found dead. Murdered."