Chapter Eight

"Warnings"

Seti's Palace

Thebes, Egypt

1298 BC

Asim hit the floor with a slight jolt after sliding against his back down the wall in a slow decent. His left leg gave way on him upon impact and limply fell out in front of him, while he struggled to remain balanced upon the other, which was pulled up against his sputtering chest.

The wall was cold against his skin, but he hardly took notice as his head spun with such progression that he felt on the verge of losing all consciousness. The base of it throbbed with an all-consuming pain from the impact of the shove and his shoulder blades pierced him with nearly the very same agonies as his head, shooting all throughout his back in continuous formation.

His newly released throat still felt as if it were being squeezed by Imhotep's hand, a nearly tangible, suffocating sensation, like a vice of death upon his throat, ever tightening.

His Adam's apple felt lodged within his windpipe as a huge, agonizing knot in his throat, sending tears to his eyes as the muscles of his neck were afflicted with uncontrollable spasms at every new attempt at his fight for breath; however, they refused to relax from their recent trauma, no matter how hard he struggled to force them otherwise.

It seemed the harder he tried, the less air he got, sending him into desperate fits of coughing from the lack of oxygen in his lungs and very soon bringing with it nearly suffocating gags to contribute to the endless cycle. His very esophagus began to feel as if it would collapse on him at any moment if his fits did not end very soon and sweat perspired from his brow.

His face was hot and flushed, nearly burning to his skin and his temples throbbed like two beating drums within his skull. His very body felt as if it were against him. He needed air and he needed it soon for his very lungs burned with the intensity of the sun.

Cries encircled him through the halls. At first he was not fully able to distinguish them from his own, but he soon became aware of the difference as they emanated from the door of Anck-su-namun, rising and falling in volume and strength.

At this, Asim's breathing became slightly more controlled as he concentrated on them, helping his mind focus on something other than his current state.

Her cries sounded like a distant echo at first, nearly undetectable to him, almost as if they were a part of another world, but he concentrated harder, centering his thoughts, despite his body's want of giving in. He could not let go, he had to get his breaths under control, or he would surely pass out from asphyxia.

Very quickly, Anck-su-namun's screams rose more and more, seeming as if they were creeping closer to him with every passing second, as his own breaths began to come with more ease, his throat muscles finally taking a dormant state within. He let out gasps of gratefulness at the all too sweet feeling air, as it once again filtered into his lungs, but his coughing still seemed to continue on.

Imhotep had not moved once he had made it to the next corridor, leaning himself against the wall with closed eyes, and his head downcast in deep reflection. His chest slowly heaved up and down with the tremendous weight of sorrow he held within him as endless, enigmas filled his every waking thought. The cries of Anck-su-namun and the wheezing gasps of Asim were unable to draw his attention, as he remained in this state, seeming as nothing more than mere background noise, drowning out as if they did not even exist.

Slowly his eyes opened and his expression was that of a blank, hypnotic state, detached of anything to signify the person that he had once been. For now, all that could be beheld within his eyes was the pure deprival of his identity, the sheer loss of his very reality. The world, which now surrounded him no longer felt as his own; values, ideas, relationships, and even right and wrong, now seemed blurred from what they had once been. He had been misplaced from what was familiar and accepted to him, sent into a new world of confusion and change with the impossibility of attaining any answers for any of it, save one: He was no longer the same man that he had once been, changed heart and soul.

It sent him completely beside himself that only a night had passed since his first stirrings for Anck-su-namun had occurred and the terrible events that had followed. All things seemed like so much, for so short a time, making it hard to grasp that everything was actually true. For only a day before, had he awakened as he always had, done as he had always done; most certainly never expecting something as this to occur.

As the High Priest, Imhotep's duties were many. Per Seti's orders, he was not only High Priest to Osiris, but also Seti's personal vizier; chosen over many promising individuals for his excelling abilities in mathematics, medicine, and leadership. The Pharaoh had been impressed by Imhotep's hard work, dedication, and obedience to him, considering him his most trusted subject in all of Thebes.

Due to the Pharaoh's liking of him, he also served as political overseer to the temples of Thebes and Hamunaptra, the magical rites, and any and all religious ceremonies. In this way, he not only had pleased his pharaoh, but his god, Osiris, being entrusted with the sacred text held within the black Book of the Dead as a show of gratitude by the god, thus being dubbed "The Keeper of the Dead" and his psychic abilities were also a part of this reward.

Imhotep had served night and day, catering to all the needs that his kingdom required for the glory of Egypt and his pharaoh. Not once had he ever questioned the personal decisions and methods of his king; he may not have agreed with all of them, but he had never turned away from carrying any of them out. It had been his life's path, his duty, and his desire to bring glory to Egypt as so he had been taught throughout his life and had promised to utilize always to his father as he had parted from this world.

However, all that was now changed. He was now in love with the personal concubine of Pharaoh Seti I, the most beautiful and forbidden woman ever imaginable, whom he had wrongfully dared to touch, while longing to do so much more, all the while knowing the consequences for his actions, but still falling in love with her nonetheless.

On top of all that, he found himself having desires to strangle the very life from his pharaoh for what he had done to his love, Anck-su-namun, and furthermore, his best friend, Asim, now lay in a hacking heap within the halls just around the corner from him and all because of a last minute attempt at protecting the one his heart now cried for against his every desperate plea to ignore.

Asim, the man whom he would have confided in with his deepest and most personal concerns, or thoughts, whom he would have trusted with his very life and vice versa, was now someone he had to hide the innermost desires of his heart from, for he could never fully trust him with the truths he held within him.

The fact that there was actually something he could not trust his friend with placed Imhotep even deeper into his personal state of Limbo. He no longer had anyone to truly confide in. He was completely and utterly alone, for even the gods had refused to answer his cries.

There was not a doubt in his mind, that things between him and Asim would never be the same again…but hopefully his friend would now leave him alone about this whole situation…For he did not know what type of action he would take were he ever to be confronted by him again in such a manner, he had learned that from his recent actions in the hall, and hurting his dear friend was the last thing he ever wanted to do again.

However, all of that was not the worst of it. He was not only betraying his pharaoh, his home, his duty, his father, and his best friend, he was betraying Osiris, his sacred promises to be faithful and loyal to him and all for Anck-su-namun's personal protection.

Why he loved her so much drove him mad to find the answer, but none ever came. It was more puzzling than that of solving the riddle of the Sphinx for the first time, but somehow he felt deep within him that he wanted to be with her more than anything else, making all this somehow seem not to matter.

She made him feel complete within, breathing life into his very soul for the first time when he had looked into her eyes. He wanted to protect her, be with her, love her, tell her everything about himself and in turn learn everything about her. There was no denying any of it, his heart, his soul was hers. It made him wonder if perhaps the gods had intended for this to happen?

"I HATE THIS LIFE!" shot from out of Anck-su-namun's door, making Imhotep jolt back from the recesses of his mind and sending his heart into a mad panic as he fought to relax from the shock.

"Anck-su-namun?" he whispered and turned his head back in the direction it came from. What was she crying for? When he had left her, she had been fine. Was she having more memories of Seti?

He tried to resist the urge to look back around the corner to her door, feeling pulled to her. He couldn't. Asim was still there, if he were to see him…

"WHY?"

At this, Imhotep did not have time to think, his head instantly shot around the corner to her door the second he heard her cry out again. He felt a need to run to her, hold her, but restrained himself from doing anything else. I mustn't! he quickly reminded, but he saw that Asim was not paying any attention and returned his gaze to her door without further thought, but when he did, his face paled and his very breath ceased at the sight he saw before him.

The door to Anck-su-namun's room was open…

Imhotep pulled himself back against the wall and stared straight ahead. His breath shallow and his eyes wide as his lips remained apart, while the rest of his body went into a complete paralysis over this new discovery.

How could that be? He had closed it! Hadn't he? What had he said anyway? He had been so furious at Asim's comments that he had just snapped. Things had just seemed to come from out of nowhere, flying past like the desert sands in a storm.

Flashes of what had occurred in the hall suddenly returned to him: His hand on Asim's throat, his friend helplessly looking back into his eyes with a blank, nearly unsurprised stare. He remembered how he was just so desperate to get Asim to believe him at any cost due the rage he had felt from the words, which Asim had used towards Anck-su-namun… "…that little wench!" and "…one of Seti's whores…"

Imhotep's breath instantly caught, as nearly did his heart. He paled even further and could only remain staring straight ahead. Had the wall not been propping him up, he would have surely fallen back.

"Oh Lord Osiris! No! I said- She heard-" he stammered, not wanting to believe it, his shocked stare not giving an inch, in fact, progressing even further.

He pleaded in his mind for it not to be so, but it was. He remembered, he remembered it all. The words he had used, the tone, the very anger that had filled his voice during every second of it. He had called her exactly what Asim had, the very word that had inflicted him with the rage to begin with, and Anck-su-namun had heard it…

"Oh, Anck-su-namun…No…I am so sorry…" he whispered at last, his face falling into his hands with guilt. "You cry because of me…not of Seti…"

Imhotep remained holding his face within his hands, frozen, as the very ground that he stood on felt ripped away from him, his heart felt barren and torn. Guilt filled him, not leaving a single area of his being untouched by its damnation and regret for saying something that he could never take back accompanied it with great eagerness. What he had said would probably never erase from her memory; he had truly hurt her.

All he could see before him were images of the hall and all he could hear was the sound of Anck-su-namun. He could see in his mind her face, her tears, which fell over him. His mind filled with the words he had used, and the sight of Anck-su-namun crying as hard as she had the previous night over Seti. Seti…he had made her cry as hard as Seti had…

"WHY?" shot through the halls from Anck-su-namun's room once again, seeming to encompass the very air around him, trapping him within it as if the agony within her was embodied within the sound of her cries as a physical force, combining with Imhotep's to apply more suffering. It wrenched at his heart, causing him to shoot his head up at the sound, his hands remaining in a cupped position in front of him. His eyes filled with tears and red, as was his face from want of crying, but the tears did not fall.

This could not be happening. He did not want to believe it, it almost felt as if some nightmare, something as this could never be! The words he had said came back to him more and more, but a singular phrase rang out the loudest in his mind. "…some lowly whore of Thebes."

The more he heard it, the more that his anger grew toward himself for his lack of control. Why had he let his temper run away with him? Never had such a thing happened before. His very thoughts had just been overcome with an indescribable wrath, taking over his entire being. It was like this hidden part of himself waking up and gaining complete control for the first time, a part he had never known. The very idea frightened him that such a thing could be possible, but at the moment his main concerns were elsewhere.

What he had done in order to help her was not worth the pain that he had inflicted, making him mad to drive his very fist into the wall behind him. How could I have done that? was the only question, which he could ask himself and his anger made him feel completely powerless, as it was directed at himself for something he could have prevented had he held his tongue, which only intensified all his emotions.

He felt his every limb filling with an overpowering adrenaline, as he was so sick with guilt to the very pit of his soul. He started to pace back and forth, his mind racing. A phrase he had been taught as a child while his father had been training him for the priesthood rang in his mind as if he were scolding him from the great beyond, "People bring about their own undoing through their tongues."

He shook his head at the irony held within the old temple proverb. Never had he thought that such a thing could be more true and it brought a sardonic smirk to his lips, the right side pulling up at how perfectly it fit to his situation.

He wished more than anything that he have chosen his words more carefully, no matter what he was trying to prove, or whether he thought that she could not hear him. What he had said was something she did not deserve, in ANY way.

It seemed no matter how much he wished to help her, he ended up only hurting her further, but what was he to do? He could not go back, not now, Asim still lay in the hall. This whole thing was his fault. He should have checked that damn door, he should have controlled what he'd said, he should have done anything other than what he had done, no matter how angry he had become.

Imhotep's attention was drawn back to Anck-su-namun as she started to let out some coughs, sounding as if she were in great pain from the severe amount of crying she had been doing. He cringed, pausing for only a second in his pacing and bringing a hand up to his forehead before closing his eyes and continuing in his step.

I am so sorry, Anck-su-namun…Gods, why? Why do you punish her? he demanded to know in his mind, but no answer came, as expected and he circled faster in the small area around him.

He threw his arms out to the sides in frustration, his eyes opening. Could this be some sort of punishment for his heart's betrayal? But if that were so, then why in all of Egypt would the gods allow such a love to be in the first place? Could it be his heart was not meant for her as he had previously thought?

He growled and shook his head. He was at a loss, unable to give himself any answers. He refused to believe that the gods would truly make her suffer because of his transgressions, but what if his caring for her was some punishment to begin with?

No. He could not comprehend the idea of the gods doing such a thing. With all he knew and with all he'd been taught, it did not make any sense. The gods were helpful and benevolent beings, and he could not fathom the idea of how they could let such a thing befall some perfect gift as Anck-su-namun. The great Hathor would never allow such a thing to pass unless it was meant to be so.

At that, Imhotep had decided, and he had found his answer. He and Anck-su-namun were meant for one another, or at least his heart was meant for her.

Suddenly, Asim's coughs were heard once again, bringing with them the all too familiar feeling of guilt to Imhotep for what he had done to his friend and the wrong that he had done by Anck-su-namun, as well as a barrage of "what ifs," had he done things differently. He knew things would be far better for all three of them if he had.

If he had taken Anck-su-namun to her room sooner, instead of letting his heart decide his every action and thought, Asim may have never spotted them in one another's arms, he would have never entered Anck-su-namun's chambers, and he certainly would have never interfered. That being so, the occurrence outside her room would have never been and what he'd done to Asim would never have taken place…And most importantly, he would still be in there…with her…

"WHAT DID I EVER DO?"

Imhotep grabbed his head and paced faster, breathing in deeply as his face tensed full of the emotions he was trying to control, but he had now lost all his resolve at hearing her question. There was nothing more he could do to fight it, he had to go and speak with her, regardless of the fact that if he did not leave now, questions as to his whereabouts would arise, for he was always on time to his duties, but to Sobek with everything else at the moment! Things had to be set straight, there was no way that he was going to leave her thinking such a god-awful thing about herself and that he truly believed that about her, she was exactly the opposite and so much more and if he had to, he would tell her exactly that if it meant making her happy.

Imhotep let his hands fall from his head and he peered around the corner. To his dismay and utter agony, Asim was still there, recovering as best he could.

"Of course!" he said to himself, shaking his head with closed eyes.

He pulled himself back around the corner and looked ahead. He had to think. There had to be a way.

He suddenly peered back around again to his friend. He seemed to be recovering quite quickly now; his coughing had died down to almost nothing. Good. He would wait for him to leave and then sneak back into Anck-su-namun's chambers.

A loud clang was suddenly sent through the air, coming from outside the palace, but it sounded so loudly that it was no doubt heard throughout most of the vicinity of Thebes. If Imhotep had had any hair, he would have surely pulled it all out right then and there.

"NY! NOT NOW!" he cursed, throwing his arms out.

It was the gong from the temple of Osiris, signifying that it was now time to bring forth the temple offerings for the god and to begin the day's ceremonies.

As if things could not get any worse, Anck-su-namun screamed again and Imhotep found himself looking from the direction of the temples, back to the direction of her chambers and so forth with every new sound.

"Why must you torment me?" he asked, staring down to the floor as if he were talking to Osiris himself in the underworld.

Imhotep's pacing started up again and Anck-su-namun continued to cry out from her room, of which Imhotep was feeling pulled to by the second, as if his heart were tied to hers and the rope was being shortened with every second, but the temple gong also continued to sound and Imhotep kept finding himself stepping back in that direction each time he was called to his duties, but then straight back to Anck-su-namun's when she would cry once again in an endless cycle.

At long last, the gong sounded for the tenth and final time and with all he had, Imhotep tore himself away from Anck-su-namun's direction and headed for the temple, while releasing an enraged growl and banging his fist into the wall as he stormed away with his robes flowing behind him.

Asim now stood in the halls, his strength mostly returned to him and his breathing now finally under control. He shook his head, looking down the hall to where Imhotep had last been. He had heard his friend's little outbursts and the loud punch to the wall he had administered.

It was apparent that he had lied to him. There was not a doubt in Asim's mind that Imhotep cared for this woman and this thought worried him greatly. For Imhotep to be acting like this, to be risking so much, and even attack him, he had to care for Anck-su-namun even more than he had first feared and this made things a lot more difficult…and dangerous.

Anck-su-namun's voice called out again, but this time more quietly, breaking Asim's train of thought.

"Why him? Hathor why? Why him?"

Asim closed his eyes at this.

"Oh no…" he whispered. As if things had not been bad enough. Anck-su-namun loved Imhotep as well…What in Horus' name was he to do? He was just a palace Med-jai; he wasn't made for this!

Worry and frustration filled him even more and he looked to the door of Anck-su-namun. It remained open a crack, just as he had left it…

Imhotep had closed it, to his knowledge, but Asim had made sure that it had not fully closed when his friend had exited. He had placed a small piece of wood between the doors to act as a doorstop. It had been done as a precaution. He had known Imhotep would lie of his feelings for Anck-su-namun if he could lure him into saying the right thing, and he had wanted to make sure that the girl had heard, but he had not thought that it would cause such a reaction.

He felt guilty for performing such an action. He almost wondered if he was doing the right thing…He had only been trying to protect his friend…He had not figured on the girl becoming this upset over it, nor loving him, nor Imhotep saying such harsh words and loving her so much.

He sighed, as he remained looking at the door. What he had done was for the best, he had to remember that, no matter what his heart was telling him to do, but now there was more to be done…

Imhotep's outbursts from around the corner made him wary over whether Imhotep had seen the opened door, which meant that if he had, he was going to try to apologize to Anck-su-namun and that was something that Asim had to make sure never happened. He had to make sure that Imhotep did not even get a chance to apologize. Everything needed to be stopped, there and now.

As a Med-jai, his duty was to protect his Pharaoh, the palace, and the possessions of his Pharaoh. Whether he liked it or not, he had to keep Imhotep from Anck-su-namun and vice versa. She was not his to love and if his friend did not heed that fact, then he would have to do it for him before he got himself into further danger.

He shook his head, feeling sorry for the both of them. Why the gods had allowed such a thing to befall them, he could never fathom. His friend had actually fallen in love…and with the most forbidden woman in all of Upper and Lower Egypt. A mere brush against her hand could mean death to any man, but as luck would have it, she returned that love. Imhotep had never taken interest in any woman. Why did it have to be this one?

Asim shook his head once again, unbelieving this whole situation, almost afraid to believe it. Of all the people! These two had to choose one another! Not a more unlikely combination could have been created. The Pharaoh's most trusted High Priest and vizier, in love with the Pharaoh's personal mistress. Had Asim heard such a tale out of a story, he would have surely laughed. This all had to be some kind of sick joke.

Had it been anyone else his friend loved, Asim would have gladly let Imhotep be happy, even if he himself was not to be with anyone. Asim understood what it was like to be in love, but this he could allow…No matter what…he had to draw the line somewhere and he had to be true to his pharaoh.

Imhotep and Anck-su-namun were fortunate in one way. Had Asim caught anyone else in their situation, he would have turned them over in a heartbeat, but because Imhotep was his truest and oldest friend, he would keep hidden from all else what had occurred, even to his own love…

His own love…she too was forbidden…Death would most likely come to him for such a love…Every time he kissed her, looked at her, declared his love, and held her through the long and passionate nights they shared together, he risked his very life and the Pharaoh's trust.

It pained him to no end that he could not openly love Princess Nefertiri. He longed for nothing more than to make her his, be husband and wife, have a family with her, but with Seti as her father, that could never be.

She was a princess and he was her mere guard. He did not wish that pain for his friend…He had to stop the love that Imhotep was gaining for pharaoh's mistress within him before he could not turn away from it, before he suffered as he did and ran a risk even greater than himself.

Asim decided that he would have to show him how wrong this was, protect him, especially since being with the pharaoh's mistress would prove a lot easier to discover than his own affair with Princess Nefertiri.

Asim inhaled a deep breath, gathering his wits and courage. If this were to be stopped, Anck-su-namun was the only way. Imhotep would certainly never listen to him and Anck-su-namun already seemed to believe fully that Imhotep cared not for her in the least…Yes, she would be the easiest to dissuade.

He was risking a lot by doing this; that much was certain. There was no telling what would befall him were this ever to get out, but if it gave the chance of keeping his friend safe, he would jeopardize his position for him and him alone. He knew nothing of this concubine with whom Imhotep seemed to love so blindly, and so he cared not for what happened to her.

He did not have much against Anck-su-namun, other than the fact that she was a great threat to his friend's life and he was still not even fully sure if she was one, which could be completely trusted. He certainly knew that his own love did not find her very agreeable in any way, nor above suspicion.

He stepped towards the door, but paused. Aside from not knowing her, he truly did not want to do such a thing. She sounded pained enough as it was, but for the good of all Egypt, Imhotep's life, as well as her own, it had to be so. All he could do was pray that she would learn to endure from this and understand.

With that in mind, Asim pushed open the door, kicking the piece of wood out of the way and slipping into the room. As the door swung shut behind him, he could see Anck-su-namun lying in her bed, facing towards the wall, sobbing, and he mentally prepared himself with what he was to say.

The moment that the door had creaked open, Anck-su-namun's already pounding heart, did so even harder. She held her breath, her first thoughts being that it was Imhotep and she listened in trembling anticipation to the footsteps closing in on her from behind.

Quickly she fought to wipe her face free of the incriminating evidence of her tears, which flooded still down her dampened cheeks, for she did not want him to see her in such a state, especially over him. Whatever had made him decide to return, she did not care to know. The last thing she needed and wanted at that very moment was to see him, but yet it was also the thing that she yearned for most in the world.

She opened her mouth to speak, holding back her tears well enough to blurt out exactly what was on her mind, but instead a simple command was shot from her lips. It was rather snappish and cold, mixed with a shaking, coarseness from all her cries and it surprised even her.

"Go away!"

The words pained her to no end that she could say such a thing to him, but not as much as the echoes of the words, which he had used in his anger about her.

"We must speak, Anck-su-namun…" said a very unforgettable voice from only a few moments ago, the very sound of it sending chills unto Anck-su-namun, her earlier fears seeping back into her very core.

With as much strength as she could muster and a very painful effort, she turned to find the Med-jai standing before her once again.

Upon the sight of him, she could have sworn the very blood from her body had all been drained and the remaining color in her cheeks vanished along with it. Her only thought as this happened, being that Imhotep had not been able to convince the guard of anything…and this only made her want to cry again, anger and hurt flowing through her. It seemed that the only one that Imhotep had done such a splendid job of convincing, had been her…She almost wanted to laugh at the twisted irony of it all.

Anck-su-namun stopped at that…What was there really to fear? If he was here to kill her, then so be it! What did she have to live for in this life? She either could live out her existence at Seti's personally sex slave, being beaten, and miserable until he tired of her and then tossed aside to probably waste away in the streets of Thebes as a miserable slave or peasant, or she could be killed now and be free of his torments forever.

Imhotep had become her only hope, her only care in this life, and she had been a fool and let him capture her heart, only to find that he felt the same for her as did all the other occupants of the palace, only he seemed to express it with much more ferventness than all of them. There was nothing more for her to care about, not even her own life and she was absolutely certain that Imhotep did not care about that either.

"Are you here to kill me?" she asked him bluntly.

Asim only looked at her, his face completely blank, but she could see a hint of sorrow held upon it, which made her wonder why he even bothered to care as he studied her, his eyes wandering over her face. Asim had not taken the chance earlier to truly get a good look at her.

He saw bruises and cuts upon her face. They were not very deep, but they still shone a bright red from their freshness and marked up most of her cheeks and other spots. The look in her eyes was cold, almost as if she had lost her very care for life and the ability to possess any love at all. She seemed a very different girl from what he had seen at the ceremony the night before and in her eyes, he noticed, she seemed older than she appeared, as if she had lived through something extremely terrible, which hauntingly remained mirrored within them, as a reflection of her experiences.

It sent a chill through Asim's very soul. Whatever Seti had done to her, he did not wish to envision, but the sight of her confirmed that the rumors of Seti were true…

He cleared his throat at last and spoke to her, "The answer to that is up to you."

"How so?" asked Anck-su-namun blankly, not a drop of fear in her voice, which gave her an almost inhuman quality.

"If you can promise to me that you will not go near the High Priest, that you will stay away from him as long as you are within the harem of the pharaoh, and remain in the arms of the one where you rightfully belong, I shall let you live…If not…" he said, trailing off with a suggestive note.

An almost bitter smile appeared on Anck-su-namun's lips and she seemed as if she wanted to laugh in his very face.

"My dear, Med-jai, I can assure you with all the confidence in the world that nothing would make me wish to go near the High Priest. I could not care less about the situation, so do with me as you will, but know that you have my assurance that I will not go near him."

Asim smiled back at her patiently, relieved in a way and yet also impressed. It appeared that Imhotep's little outburst in the hall had made this even easier for him than he had anticipated. It seemed his friend had dissuaded her all on his own…

His heart pulled slightly at that. If only she could know the truth about Imhotep's feelings for her…but it could not be so.

"Whether that is true, or not, I cannot say, but know that if you wish for yourself, or Imhotep for that matter, to remain as you are, then you will keep your distance. Do not even speak, nor look at him, or Ahemait will be the last thing that you see, if you are fortunate…" he said, staring into her eyes with a very stern look, filled with warning.

Asim would not truly turn them in, at least not Imhotep. His only intent here was to frighten Anck-su-namun and by the long pause, which she held after his words, he figured that it had worked.

Satisfied, he straightened in his stance and gave one last warning to her.

"I do hope that the next time that we meet, Mistress will not be under such dire circumstances…Good day…" he said and turned, heading for the door, and closing it all the way as he exited.

Anck-su-namun was again left alone in her chambers, so cold and empty, though the sun was shining full of life and exuberance into the room, but the appearance it gave was far from the actual vibes and memories that it truly exuded.

She lay in her bed, sinking back down beneath the covers at last, remembering how Imhotep had so determinedly tucked her back in over and over. She stared down at them, pulled up to her chin…The care he had shown to her…it had been almost unreal, but then the words he had used followed, draining away all good he had done.

Why if Imhotep had so convincingly shown that he did not care for her, was this Med-jai so concerned over her going near the High Priest? Something did not set right with it all and it confused her even more. Her head was so filled with questions, ones that could never be answered, and with memories she would rather sooner forget, that her head was starting to spin.

She had been through so much and in so little a time. One blow after another and her head throbbed because of it and she longed more than anything to silence the voices in her head, but the more she tried, the more exhausted she became.

Anck-su-namun clutched the blankets in her hands and stared up at the tall ceiling above. The soft feel of the sheets only reminded her of the tender feel of Imhotep's hand…his very touch…but this only succeeded in bringing on more tears, causing her to clutch to the blankets even tighter.

She could not deny it, she still loved him somehow after hearing his hateful words and because of that, and only because of that, would she keep her word to the Med-jai. She would not go near Imhotep, speak with him, nor even look at him, not that she had any intentions to do so again anyway after his so outward display of distaste for her, but no matter what her mind told her about him on how she should feel, her heart ignored it at all costs from somewhere deep within and that other part of her, the sensible part, wanted to strangle her for it.

She felt like two halves, fighting for dominance over herself, trying to toss the other aside, but if that were to happen, she could not truly be whole. She would only be a shadow, a mirrored reflection, or a half of who she was, having to lock the other side away in order to go on without any inner conflicts over right and wrong. She was truly torn.

She closed her eyes, squeezing out her last remaining tears and they dripped down her cheeks. Yes, she would do this for Imhotep. Though he felt for her like all the rest, she did not wish for him to die because of something to do with her and her heart felt too strongly for him to truly hate him. In a way, she did not blame him for his words.

With those thoughts, Anck-su-namun turned, tilted her head and looked out to the balcony. Her eyes were shiny from her tears and red rimmed, but she no longer had within her the power to cry. She stared blankly out to the ledge. It was an awfully long way down; it was a pity that she could not get up…