Damn, I love you guys. THANK YOU!!! Keep reviewing, and I promise (or at least I hope;) you won't be disappointed. To concerned citizens such as marrokinhas and MBooker...read what Ardeth said very closely and remember you're talking to a huge Rick/Evy devotee here, okay? To say any more would give away the story...*cackles evilly*

Just to avoid confusion, I should tell you that Rick's name in ancient times is Achsu-rai. He's Rick, not Ardeth, okay?!? (I agree completely Seletha, Evy with anyone but Rick is just WRONG!:) Don't worry, though, Ardeth's here, too:)

If anyone catches the line from Buffy (Tigerwolf!), kudos to you:) Don't own that, either. That genius Joss Whedon does.

Chapter 2

Eye of the Beholder

1290 B.C.:

She caught his eye across the crowded room. He bowed slightly, a bit caught off guard to see her staring at him. They both turned away, brushing off the incident. That might have been the last of it.

Throughout the night, she found herself scanning the crowd, searching desperately for that pair of eyes. She knew she'd seen him before, but she'd never seen those eyes, looked into them. She wanted desperately to study them, to drink them in, get lost. She'd never seen anyone's eyes so blue, and she'd been thirty feet away.

As he stood by the door, aloof to his surroundings, those eyes followed her as she traversed the room, dancing, laughing, sneaking furtive glances this way and that. He knew she was looking for him. Why? They'd seen each other many times. Why was she suddenly so interested in him? Just another mystery to add to the list about that woman.

The night ended, the party over. She took her father's arm and exited the room, before everyone else, and walked past the man at the door. He wouldn't look at her.

She returned to her room and wept.

Nefertiri struggled to keep her eyes open as she listened to her father drone on and on. She was sure half the court was nodding off, too, but it would not do for the princess to fall asleep in the middle of the pharaoh's address. She forced a smile onto her face as the court applauded the long-awaited conclusion of the speech. Now they could get on with the last day of the festivities. Not that those would be much better. Lately Nefertiri was having trouble masking her impatience with these endless celebrations. She'd tried to explain to Anck-su-namun how she felt, but her friend had just eyed her strangely and offered to switch lives with her. Nefertiri wished it was that simple. She felt like she was suffocating in the incredible weariness of this life, her life.

As the applause went on (and on, and on), Nefertiri found herself once again catching the eye of that Medjai. He looked startled to see her, as if he hadn't known she was there. No one ever knew she was there. She could have been invisible and didn't doubt it would be weeks before her own father noticed she was gone.

Anck-su-namun tugged on the princess' sleeve as the room began to empty. "Nefertiri, come on. You have to get ready." Nefertiri didn't resist as she was pulled away from the stare of the Medjai, but paused just before they got to the door.

"Anck, who is that man? The one standing next to father?"

For some reason unknown to Nefertiri, her companion actually blushed. "Why, that is the High Priest of Osiris-"

"I know Imhotep. I mean the Medjai."

Anck-su-namun seemed relieved. "Of course. He is called Achsu-rai. His father is ill, and will soon pass away, so he is to be named leader of the twelve tribes."

"But he is so young."

"He is very brave; he has won many battles."

"A warrior, then."

"What else would you have the Medjai be?" Now her tone seemed bitter.

"Is something wrong, Anck-su-namun?"

"No. What could be wrong?" She plastered a smile onto her pretty face and began to steer the princess out of the room. "We must prepare for the banquet."

"You like him," Nefertiri declared as soon as they were out of hearing distance.

"Achsu-rai?" Anck-su-namun snorted. "You have got to be joking!"

"No, Imhotep!"

Anck-su-namun's eyes widened and her face turned white. "Whatever gave you that idea?" she protested, too loudly. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You like him," Nefertiri repeated, softly. "I can tell. And I saw him looking at you, too." This wasn't the first time she had noticed the attraction between the two. She often saw Imhotep watching them, and he certainly wasn't looking at the princess.

"That's ridiculous. A high priest in love with a servant. Whoever heard of such a thing?" Her tone was scornful, but Nefertiri got the impression that the only one Anck-su-namun was trying to convince was herself.

"Who said anything about love?"

"I didn't say anything about anything. Let's go."

"You should read books more often, Anck," she pressed. "It happens all the time in fiction."

"Exactly. Fiction. That's all it is. Get your head out of the clouds, Nefertiri. You've got more of a chance with that Medjai."

"She's very beautiful, isn't she?"

"What?" Achsu-rai turned to face the high priest. The room was almost empty by now; even the pharaoh had gone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the princess' servant wrench Nefertiri out of his sight.

"Nefertiri. She is growing up into a very beautiful woman," Imhotep said.

"Of course." Achsu-rai had never liked the high priest. He avoided conversation with Imhotep whenever possible, but he supposed now he would be forced to confer with him more often. As the pharaoh's two closest advisors, they were expected to get along.

"Something troubles you, Achsu-rai," Imhotep pushed.

"Thank you for your concern, but nothing troubles me."

Imhotep smiled, as if he knew better. "If you say so."

With that, the priest turned and left Achsu-rai to himself in the now empty room. The man was insufferable, but he also always right. As if Achsu-rai would ever tell Imhotep what he was thinking. He himself didn't understand what he was thinking.

He was fairly sure, however, that Nefertiri had a lot to do with it.

Nefertiri pulled at the uncomfortable headband that Anck-su-namun had insisted she wear. Thank goodness occasions like these intolerable banquets came only a few times a year. Her father had hinted that a certain wedding banquet might be coming soon, too...Nefertiri shuddered at the thought. She had no desire to marry, much less anyone her father was likely to choose for her. Every night before Nefertiri went to sleep, she recited in her head the fairy tale her mother had used to tell her at bedtime...a magical story about a beautiful princess falling head over heels for a handsome prince...She supposed it wasn't realistic, but her dreams were the only thing Nefertiri felt she could still hold onto. They were the only thing in her life she had control over anymore.

Her father was seated first, followed by all of her siblings by their ages. Nefertiri was the eldest child present. It was hard to keep track of her brother Ramses. Seti was rather proud of his son, always off defending the honor of his kingdom. Nefertiri, however, suspected that Ramses was not exactly the upstanding citizen their father pictured him as...he was just as likely to be hanging around his camp drinking with his friends than fighting the enemy. She missed her brother desperately, though, and would never do anything to tarnish his reputation in her father's eyes.

A movement beside Nefertiri startled her out of her musing. It was that Medjai, calmly taking his place at the banquet table beside her. "Achsu-rai," she managed to choke out. He looked surprised at her statement. "Princess," he replied, nodding, and preceded to completely ignore her for the next hour.

Torture! Nefertiri complained loudly inside her head. She hated these banquets. No one ever talked to her, though she sat at the head of the table with all of the important dignitaries. Normally she could have stood the insufferable hours, but today the mere minutes seemed to taunt her. Since no one was paying attention to her, though, the princess was free to study Achsu-rai. How had she never before noticed his eyes? They were the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. Eyes like that just didn't happen in Egypt. And his arms...those were good arms to have, Nefertiri thought silently. She wondered what all the tattoos meant. Reminders of battles won? Battles lost? "Warrior for God," she murmured under her breath.

"What?" Achsu-rai had turned toward her now. "What did you say?"

"Oh, um-" Nefertiri sputtered, face turning red. "I was just looking at your tattoos. Warrior for God, on your forehead."

"You know what they mean?"

"Of course. I do know how to read."

"You read?" Achsu-rai asked, so incredulously that Nefertiri was almost insulted. "Yes," she replied haughtily, regaining some of her icy composure. "I wouldn't expect a Medjai to understand."

"Oh, I understand the written word perfectly, Princess. It is the spoken word that sometimes deceives me," he said, with a pointed look at Imhotep.

The priest seemed not to notice, his attention still on the pharaoh. "Women have no place in the scholar's world," he said. "Teaching them to read is nonsense."

"What a shame you feel that way, Imhotep," Nefertiri interjected angrily. "Because I was going to tell you that the last proposal you wrote to my father was pure--"

"That's enough, Nefertiri," her father chastised. "Now, Imhotep, about the new addition to the south side of the temple..."

Once again they were absorbed in matters of policy and politics, and Nefertiri had lost center stage. "Excuse me," she muttered as she pushed out from the table and ran as fast as she could out of the banquet hall. No one noticed...

...except Achsu-rai.

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Merci to mithwith for putting up with my obsessive behavior over this story:)