Slight spoiler warning here. The fact that I don't own YGO hasn't changed in the last minute.
Sorry
The throne room was in an uproar at the Pharaoh's abrupt departure. The vizier, Shimon, asked the six priests to pacify those in the room while he went to find the Pharaoh. Five of the priests immediately set out to do so.
The sixth priest—the newest, initiated only a few days before the former king's death—hung back. But his hesitation had nothing to do with doubt in his powers; no, he was lost in thought. In memory.
"Mahaado! Is that true! If you made up such a blasphemous lie, I'll have you stripped of the priesthood and executed!"
"It is not a lie, Per-aa…"
"I cannot believe such a thing! Guards, take him to the dungeons!"
"Mahaado! Don't just stand there, you useless neophyte!"
Mahaado didn't hear the command. He found himself leaving the throne room by the same route as the young pharaoh, mindlessly walking through the palace.
How long had it been? It was three days ago, wasn't it?
"M…my lord?"
"Mahaado… I apologize for my… blindness. Though I had you imprisoned, I couldn't forget your story, and… I have confirmed it." A deep sigh. "…Do not mention this conversation to my brother. I do not… want to discuss that choice with him."
"Yes sir."
"The Millennium Ring will be returned to you."
"Thank you, sir."
"…Mahaado… you'll take care of my son for me, won't you?"
"What?"
The former pharaoh had fallen ill, and the sickness had claimed his life within a few days. Mahaado thought it was probably heartsickness.
If I hadn't told him…
Mahaado had wandered in the direction of the balcony. Now he stepped outside, staring into the sky.
He heard a gasp behind him and turned. The new pharaoh was crouched there, wiping his eyes with an almost comic desperation. "P-Priest Mahaado!" the king greeted, obviously trying to sound authoritative. He got to his feet.
Had the pharaoh been crying? Mahaado felt it would be inappropriate to ask such a thing, so he simply gave the king a slight smile. "So this is where you ran off to, Per-aa," he admonished lightly. "You shouldn't do that anymore, now that you're—" But the priest stopped in alarm.
The Pharaoh was staring at him with wide eyes and trembling chin.
"—Per-aa?"
Suddenly the young king clutched his ears. "Don't call me that!" he cried. "Stop! My father—my father is your king! Not me…"
Mahaado caught his breath. "Per-aa… your father is…"—No, he couldn't bring himself to say that—"…no longer capable of ruling."
A short, heavy silence. Then the boy's shoulders sagged and his hands fell limply to his sides. "I know…" he whispered. "I know. My father is dead. I… I have to be the Per-aa." And then he straightened, standing as a pharaoh should, with his head thrown back. But a tear slipped onto his cheek.
His heart aching for the boy, Mahaado gently touched the pharaoh's shoulder. "Per-aa…"
The boy trembled as Mahaado spoke, but swallowed and asked clearly, "Yes?"
If only I hadn't told your father about the Millennium Items…
"I'm sorry, Per-aa…"