Author's Note: To clear up any confusion, the Egyptian's week contained ten days instead of seven, and the Epagomenal was the birthdays at the of the year for these gods and goddess': Osiris, Horus, Seth, Isis, and Nephthys. Jen

Chapter Nine

"Regrets"

Seti's Palace

Thebes, Egypt

1298 BC

The end of the year was approaching fast, signaling the nearing of the Epagomenal, the most lavish of celebrations in the kingdom of Egypt. Each new sunset that was brought forth by the gods, marked yet another day closer to this glorious and highly anticipated festivity, as well as another day in their lives now lost eternally to the valleys of the past.

For the Egyptians, life was spent mostly to please these gods, which ruled them, in order to ensure that a safe and gratifying existence would be bestowed upon them, once life within their mortal realm had come to a close, and because of this, Pharaoh Seti I, had given strict orders that all be flawless in the preparations for the festivities surrounding the Epagomenal, if only to ensure his place amongst the gods.

Now, all of Egypt strived towards the perfection that their pharaoh, their god on Earth, expected of them, ranging from members of the priesthood, to common slaves and peasants, and because of this there was a flurry of near chaotic activity, buzzing about in the temples and city of Thebes.

Whether a temple of Osiris, or one of Horus, everyone had a task and role to play in these preparations, leaving Imhotep, High Priest of Osiris, caught in the midst of it all.

Great stress was needed to be emphasized on every detail for these preparations, and Imhotep needed to be available at all times for the approval and overseeing of just about every intricate part of it. He had literally found himself confined to the temples all throughout the daylight hours for nearly the past week, and oftentimes, even late into the dark and restless nights.

For Imhotep, overindulgence in his duties had always been the norm, especially in times, such as these, and so, all those surrounding him took no notice to the abnormal behaviors of which he displayed, but in all truths, Imhotep's complete submergence in his duties was no longer for pleasing his pharaoh, or even for that of the gods he served. Now it was nothing more than a conveniently planned distraction from what truly weighed upon his heart: Anck-su-namun.

He had decided from that day, in which he had been summoned away from the scene of his heathen acts by the commandeering gongs of the temples, that his duties would have to be his only sanctuary from himself and the ever strengthening desires of his now unpredictable heart. Only by submerging himself completely into every task he could possibly think of, could he ever hope to discover the key to finding his ever-evasive salvation, for he had learned rather quickly that it was the only way...

A part of him longed to give into his desires, to stray; to allow himself to think of nothing, but her, condemned by his actions, or not...but he knew these were all foolish fantasies...and they would have to remain just that.

However, the moments, and nights in which Imhotep was freed from his mundane duties, it seemed as though the hours would inch past with slow, agonizing monotony, which felt to him, as though time itself were stopping, if only just for him in an ironic twist, for life around him seemed busier than ever.

During this time, he would become trapped within his own thoughts; the same images every time repeating in his mind like some daily ritual to the gods that needed to be recited. Anck-su-namun was becoming his world; a part of him. She consumed him, heart and soul. Every one of his senses seemed to be bending the barriers of the reality, which no longer touched him, in order to make him feel her very essence no matter where he turned. It seemed there was nothing in all of the gods' creations that would not and did not fill him with the bittersweet memories of her.

On those lonely, restless nights, the thoughts of her were so intense, so vivid, that sleep would not claim him, no matter how exhausted his body was. In his silence, she haunted him, as did his regrets for what he had done. Whether his eyes were shut, or left open wide, she was everywhere; in everything. There was nothing in which he could not find her.

The golden sunsets reminded him of her soft and radiant skin, now marred by Seti's lascivious hands, yet still grasping wholly to the ethereal beauty it possessed. The blackness of the nights brought back the memories of her long and silken hair, which he could clearly feel still entwined around his long fingers. The waters of the Nile glistened like that of the tears, which had flowed from the darkened pools of her deep eyes, yet entrancing his soul like the sight of her. The sweet scent of her clung strongly to the robes, which he wore from that night, and oftentimes, he could swear that he the breeze carried with it the song of her voice.

When inside his chambers at night, Imhotep would circle the small rug beside his bed, contemplating over what to do, over Anck-su-namun's health, reliving still what he had said, and just how much longer it would be until he saw her once again.

His pacing was relentless, and most often, the room would begin to feel confining to him, like a cage he was trapped inside, causing him to leave on long walks in the middle of the night.

He would wander aimlessly through the gardens, walk past the banks of the Nile, but none seemed to soothe him, and he would always end up at a statue of Bastet below the balcony of Anck-su-namun's chambers.

Unfortunately, quite a few of the priests within the temple of Osiris, with whom worked closely with Imhotep, had taken notice to their High Priest's newly acquired nocturnal activities... This new restlessness of his was unsettling to them.

He was now impatient with numerous of his priests, and workers, even unable to hold his temper at even the slightest of incidents and constantly on edge. Imhotep was their leader, the sole overseer of the temples and he seemed, as if he did not know what was going on right in front of his face, and as a result, things at the temples were beginning to fall behind schedule, causing much unrest inside the priesthood and much talk...

Imhotep had tried, as much as possible to speak with Anck-su-namun during the week. He had needed to try to find a way to gain her forgiveness for what had transpired between them, but the few times he had managed to escape his duties, Anck-su-namun herself had found some way of driving him from her; avoiding him at all costs.

Three times he had been able to go to her, only to be informed by her two servants that she was still in need of more rest, or conveniently "sound asleep." They had refused to let him even pass into the room, as if his rank and power were meaningless to them.

These refusals had driven him mad, for Anck-su-namun was so close to him, just held beyond his reach by two thick, golden doors. They felt like a barricade, an impenetrable wall between him and his beloved that by no means could he get through, and despite the nearness of Anck-su-namun, to Imhotep it felt as though she were becoming farther by the second.

Each time he had been at those doors, the sight of them had caused him to feel an overwhelming pull, one which plagued him to barge straight through into her chambers. The draw was so powerful that it took all his strength and willpower to keep from collapsing into his wishes, for he swore he could feel her presence within the room, calling to his very soul.

As he had stood there, the two servants standing watch over the doors, had reminded him of Sef and Tau, the lions who diligently guarded the gates to the Realm of Osiris asking the wary soul the single question, "Who is this?" If the soul answered correctly by citing the correct verse from the Book of the Dead, they would successfully be let to pass and continue on to the next test.

However, not every soul would be lucky enough to know this answer...and Imhotep felt as one of those less fortunate souls. One who would forever be forbidden from its paradise, left to wander the deserts for all eternity with the growing agonies on his soul from being kept from the light, all the while feeling his sanity slowly drifting from him, while his thirsting desires to break free of the Hell he had fallen into only increased with malign vigor.

To Imhotep these forces already felt hard at work, eating away at his very sanity and patience, as he was kept from Anck-su-namun, but instead of two lions before him, it was two middle-aged women, and the paradise that he was seeking was Anck-su-namun.

It was almost ironic in a way, he had thought while looking at the whole situation through his frustrations. Here he was, a man of his stature, his power, the High Priest of Osiris, and far above the importance of two measly servants for a concubine of Pharaoh Seti I, and he was being denied entrance into a single room.

But, he had known anger would have done him no good, and so, he had fought off his fury for the sake, and only the sake of the one he loved, remaining at the mercy of the servants before him, swallowing his pride, and accepting their words, as best he could, as exasperating as it was. For the last thing that he wanted was to endanger her by his arrogant and foolish actions.

It was on the third and final visit that Imhotep had caught of glimpse of Anck-su-namun sitting alone by the balcony within her chambers, and at that point, his pain had gone completely beyond comprehension.

He had only seen her briefly through the cracked doorway with which the servants had so generously allowed, as a means of speaking to him, but it had been long enough. Their attempts at trying to keep him from seeing her had failed...and it was also on that visit, that the servants had so kindly informed him that Anck-su-namun "was fast asleep..."

Imhotep's heart had almost wanted to cease its beating the moment he had seen her and had heard those deceitful words from the "keepers of Anck-su-namun," which had burned upon his ears, as a sickening, empty sensation had taken hold of his being, but somewhere inside of him he had refused to give in. He could not. It was a blessing from the gods that he was so strong-willed a man, as he was, for he would have given up all hope right then and there, had it not been for that. He had also never been the kind of man to just let go of something he truly believed in, especially with all his heart, and his heart now belonged completely to Anck-su-namun.

And so, as great as the pain had been that final visit, Imhotep had forced as kind a smile as his breaking heart would allow to the two women, and thanked them, just as he had the two times previous, while asking them to please tell Anck-su-namun how he wished her full recovery and well-being, before turning away down the halls to the life in, which he lived to serve the gods and his Pharaoh.

As sunset was now upon the whole of Thebes, and another day in the Pharaoh Seti I's glorious kingdom was coming to its inevitable close, Imhotep was making his way to the dining hall, which was just ahead, from yet another tedious day at the temples. As he ventured for it, he hoped and prayed with everything inside him, that Anck-su-namun would be seen within.

Tonight marked the tenth day in passing, since Anck-su-namun's evening with Seti, and so, by the law of the Pharaoh, it was a sufficient amount of time for recuperation. Imhotep had discovered this through some carefully hidden investigation. There was no doubt in his mind that Seti would be summoning her to his chambers once again...

Imhotep's bronzed and chiseled stomach tightened at that very thought. The image of his love with that man was unbearable, and he did not think that he could stand to witness what Seti would feel fit to do to her this time around…

He arrived at the doors to the dining hall, in which their intricate, golden lotus blossoms trailed up and down upon its massive surfaces. The hour was still early, and the room would most likely only be occupied by palace servants preparing for the evening's meal.

Though Imhotep had always preferred to arrive early for any event, in which he attended, his intentions for being so punctual on this particular night, were far different from any he had held before.

The soul purpose, after all, that Anck-su-namun was even allowed within the dining hall whatsoever, was so that she could tend to the Pharaoh by serving him by hand his food and drink, while acting as a decoration for the kingdom. She was not allowed to have her own seat, and forbidden to take anything for herself. She would have her meal elsewhere.

The Med-jai diligently standing guard outside the doors to t he dining hall, respectfully pulled them open for their High Priest, moving aside for him to enter. Imhotep did not even give them a single sign of recognition, not caring in the least if they remained there, or not, for the moment the doors had parted from one another, his dark eyes fell directly upon Anck-su-namun.

She sat alone, aside from her all too familiar servants, who protectively hovered upon either side of her. No one else within the room dared go within ten feet of the Pharaoh's Mistress, fearing her touch; her very beauty.

Her slender back, with it's delicate curve, was to him, as she was seated at the head of the table closest to where he stood. She sat beside the chair, which Seti would occupy and grace his personage with upon his arrival. The table was small, with two greatly larger ones running off either side of it, toward the opposite end of the room. But, the positioning of the table was the last thing on the High Priest's mind.

There were no words, which could describe the relief and joy he was feeling at seeing her merely sitting upright at an event such as this. Seeing her recovered to this state was a true blessing from the gods and Imhotep felt at last that his prayers had been heard...and carried out.

A small, thankful smile slowly found its way across his full lips, traversing up into his eyes. All he could do was stare at her, his lovely princess, feeling completely breathless and hardly believing that he was blessed enough to gaze upon her beauty once again at last. It was amazing how a woman, only her, could have such a power over his very soul. He realized in that moment that he had missed her very presence more than he had ever thought.

Deep within his beating chest, his heart panged from want of being nearer to her, to speak with her, but he found himself nearly afraid to approach her.

Would she not turn him away from her once again? He did not think his heart could bear it, especially knowing that any words of hers would be brought forth as ramifications of his saving her life.

Imhotep forced himself to take a step, but stopped only after it had begun.

He noticed suddenly the lustrous glow of her long, black hair, like the light of the rising sun. It appeared so soft, as though it were made of nothing, but pure silk. The way it rested gently upon her upper back, cascading over her bare shoulders, baited him to run his fingers through its tresses, in order to memorize its every softened feel, as she remained positioned upon her tiny stack of pillows, resting upon her knees. Her gentle hands lay upon the small, marooned sash, which wrapped around her curvaceous hips, barely managing to cover her front with how it dangled down from her waist. Her body was painted once again, nearly from head to toe in yet another intricately designed pattern, one which was Seti's favorite upon his chosen.

Imhotep found he was taken by the patterns, mesmerized by their detail and what little they left to the imagination, but at the same time, he wanted to cringe at the vileness of the one he loved had to be subjected to such a display.

Clanging came from the side of the room, yanking Imhotep away from the tranquil thoughts of Anck-su-namn.

Servants had dropped some dishes and were now avidly fighting over whose fault it was. He shook his head and quickly surveyed the rest of the area around him.

All the workers seemed preoccupied with their duties for the moment, or with the quarrel now taking place at the side of the room. No one would notice if he were to speak with Anck-su-namun.

He turned back to her and felt his heart reach speeds of an unnatural rate. He had to do it. If he did not apologize tonight, gods knew when he would ever get that opportunity again because of Seti's careful watch, and the Pharaoh would no doubt be arriving at any moment. No, he could not hold off any longer.

He gulped, taking a deep breath to try to calm his nerves and gathered his courage. With his entire body feeling shaky and suddenly drained of all energy, yet at the same time more energized than he had ever felt, Imhotep stepped up behind Anck-su-namun.

"I wish to speak with the Pharaoh's Mistress privately over some religious matters to which she has previously asked me about," he said rather coolly, his hands held together at his chest, as if in prayer. He appeared very respectable.

The two servants jumped as soon as he had spoken. He had approached so stealthily that neither had seen, nor heard him. It seemed that he had appeared out of nowhere. The poor women had to catch their breaths from the shock, as they turned to look at their High Priest.

"Oh, High Priest," said Olabisi with a bow, her hand on her chest to steady herself. "Certainly, speak to her all you wish. We will leave you to your business, My Lord," answered Olabisi, nodding her head in respect once more along with her companion to the High Priest, who nearly towered over them.

The ladies left and Imhotep was now left alone with Anck-su-namun. He noticed immediately that Anck-su-namun had stiffened in her sitting position; seeming anything, but relaxed. In fact, she appeared as though she were holding her breath, nor did she turn to look at him either, only stared straight ahead as a statue would. His fears heightened at this sight, and he wanted to fall to his knees and pour out his very soul to her, but he pushed the treacherous urges away before they threatened to condemn him any further, and sat himself in a chair to her left.

For a long while neither of them said a word. Anck-su-namun kept looking ahead, and Imhotep sat with his hands folded together upon the table, thinking about where to begin.

"Anck-su-namun-"

"High Priest," she answered, quickly, not even giving him so much as a glance.

Imhotep's lips remained opened from being cut-off so unexpectedly and he found himself holding his breath, completely thrown off balance by her sudden reaction. The way she had said it felt, as though ice had been shot into him and encased his soul to its core. How she could inflict such an emotion from only the tiniest of phrases was lost to him, but it made him burn to bring back the young woman he had fallen in love with not so long ago.

Imhotep quickly composed himself and gave a reminder that this was his only chance. Besides… the fact that she was allowing him to at least sit beside her could be some small sign of hope for her forgiveness.

"There is no need to worry over mere titles," he reminded her, "I would prefer if you would call me by my name," he said in an attempt to show her he thought of them as equals. He loved her so much, and if it were within his powers, he'd place her higher than the gods themselves to reveal that to her.

"There are many things, which people prefer, that they do not receive...High Priest," she said, adding in his title to prove her point.

She could almost not believe she had said that to him. The coldness within her voice was foreign, even to her. How she longed to use his name though, as he requested...but she had to fight these feelings. She could not forget what Asim had said to her, nor the words, which Imhotep had used.

Imhotep was dumbstruck, feeling like none of this could possibly be happening and that he was someone else watching some terrible event take place. In his mind, he tried to think of what to say; of how he could get her to see, or at least listen to his words, but her refusals to call him by his name made him feel, as though all hope was lost to Ahemait. Gaining her trust was proving harder than it had upon their meeting in the halls...

He continued to search himself to his very core for some answer, some course to take, but all he could come up with, was to continue trying to express to her how much he truly cared and was sorry, while ignoring any cruel and carefully aimed comments, which she may send his way. After all, he deserved everyone of them for what he had said... but he hoped despite her harshness, that they were only spoken out of anger... and not from her heart.

He took in a breath and went on.

"I am glad to see that you have recovered," he said, kindly and looking up at her with a tiny smile to try to hide his pain.

Anck-su-namun kept looking ahead, but she could see his smile from the corner of her eyes, causing her heart to wrench at its sad beauty. She lowered her eyes to get it out of her sight. That smile of his made this all the more painful, and also...made her entire body feel weak. She had to remind herself that his smile was only to appease one of the burdens he carried for being a priest...just as he had so insistently stated in the hall.

"And I am glad to see that you so avidly practice your duties. I know it must come as quite the burden at times," she said with her quick tongue, giving him a swift glance, and then looking back down, before she had not the strength to do so.

Imhotep couldn't believe this. He brought his eyes down from her and stared at the tabletop. He'd been right in assuming she'd heard the entire thing. Her words revealed everything. Could she not see that his taking care of her, remaining at her side, had not been for the satisfaction of his duties? That he'd done it out of love? He felt anger at her inability to notice!

Gods...could she truly not see the pain in his eyes, the sorrow in his voice? He would do anything for her. He'd go to the ends of the Earth to bring her happiness. How could she not see what she did to him?

He brought his eyes back up to her.

"I do not ask because of my duties," he said to her, keeping his patience as best he could.

His head was spinning from the way his hopes and dreams were being shattered.

Anck-su-namun turned her head back to Imhotep and looked him straight in the eyes, holding her gaze this time. Her eyes were cold, any care void from them, and her face held a look of pure stone.

"Oh? Then why do you ask, High Priest? For compassion's sake? For penance? Am I so pathetic that you ask out of pity, or for redemption? Whatever the reason is that you came over here to sit with me, please get it over with, so I may sit here in peace," she said, her eyes wavering with the forming of tears, just as she turned from him yet again, but it was not soon enough.

Imhotep had caught those tears in her eyes. He had felt the pain behind those eyes of hers, mirroring his own, and he could feel her suffering from everything that had transpired to create what was now her life. This caused his anger to subside.

"Anck-su-namun if you would please let me explain-"

"There is nothing that needs to be explained," she interrupted, coldly, yet her voice had the slightest hint of faltering, which did not miss Imhotep's attuned ears, causing his determination to get his message across to grow, but as he spoke, his voice held the same unwavering patience he had great mastery over.

"Please...There is something I must say...and I only wish for you to listen...I have done a great wrong by you-"

"You are not the first. There is no need to express any sympathies."

Imhotep nearly faltered at that, but he held onto his patience, as well as his sanity, and trudged on just as calmly.

"Anck-su-namun, I did not mean what was said... I...I do not feel that way towards you..." he said, the last few words hitting with such a gentle softness, that Anck-su-namun felt a chill.

Imhotep gazed upon her with a pleading look held in his dark eyes, praying that she would see before he went mad. He was going to tell her if he saw her understand...He longed for her to do so, his heart was ready to be bared and it showed within his eyes.

Anck-su-namun made the mistake of turning her head to Imhotep again, ready with another onslaught to deter him, but when she saw his eyes, those eyes that could be nothing else, but the very doorway into Heaven... She choked. Her heart leapt at the familiar sight and she wanted to move closer to him and nuzzle herself into his embrace forever. It was that look he'd given her, ever since he'd first seen her, only it had grown in its intensity and power over her heart.

She tore herself away from it, fear sweeping over her of what he might speak if she remained looking at him like that. The thought felt too good to be true, but she could not take the chance...no matter how much she longed to hear those words...

"I-I have already heard how you feel. There is no need to express it again..." she insisted, and then looked at him with the most flustered and desperate of expressions. "Now good day, High Priest!" she said, abruptly, her eyes catching his for a fraction of a second before she tore them from his for the millionth time to look once more at the table, shattering nearly all of Imhotep's remaining hopes.

She would never let him in… She couldn't let him in, and she couldn't stand to speak with Imhotep any longer. All he brought to her right now were the painful memories of that morning and the heartache she had felt. He was confusing her by his persistence and patience with her. Had he not meant what he had said that day? How could he speak about her in such a manner and then have the gall to look at her like that?

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, feeling her heart plummeting further into its suffering with every new beat of life it gave, from the great hole she could feel tearing into it. It was then that a single tear fell from her eye and splattered onto the table beneath her...catching Imhotep's watchful eye...

His heart quickened and ached at the sight.

"Anck-su-namun..." he whispered, in his low and soothing voice, his fingers separating from being clasped together and moving out towards her.

He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but the paint she wore made that impossible, as well as the servants, which surrounded them. He moved no further, but his right hand remained suspended a few inches from the table, reaching toward her.

"I must tell you..." he tried again, pausing to see what she would do. His mouth felt drier than it ever had before and he tried to swallow.

Anck-su-namun saw his hand from the corner of her eyes.

"I said good day! Now I wish to be alone before Pharaoh arrives," she said rather insistently, looking at him in her rashness, with eyes more of fear than anything else, just as another tear escaped and fell onto the table.

Imhotep's eyes followed it, and he pulled back his hand, as servants from around the room had stopped to see why the Pharaoh's newest mistress had just raised her voice to the High Priest. Until now it was something unheard of.

Anck-su-namun turned her head away from Imhotep, not caring in the least about the watchful eyes, and looked to the opposite end of the room, completely concealing her face from Imhotep's view.

He kept looking at her; however, as she moved away, the back of her head all that he could really see, but then he noticed the eyes, which were upon him, and he felt an awkwardness creep into his being at the situation he was now faced with.

Anck-su-namun remained upon her pile of pillows. He would indeed need to do something about this immediately. He needed to give them reason not to question anything about this, and forget that any of it had ever happened.

Gathering all the anger he could, Imhotep forced the hardest of glares to come to his usually soft eyes and left no room for question to any of these servants of what he would do, should they not turn away that instant.

Quickly, every single one of the servants averted their eyes, not daring to cross with the High Priest, and continued on about their own business once again.

Imhotep took a deep breath in through his nostrils and turned his head back to Anck-su-namun's fallen tear, confident that all was taken care of, and fighting back his desperation, returning anger.

He lifted his eyes back to Anck-su-namun and his mind flashed back to that last look she had given him. There had been something she'd held in her eyes...Those unshed tears...

Could it be possible that she? Hathor, could such a thing be true?

He glanced at the tear that he'd seen spill from her eyes, and then back at her. His own eyes were wide with hope and curiosity from the overwhelming need to know what she kept in her heart. Imhotep leaned closer to his heart's desire and whispered so only she could hear, wanting to urge her to say anything she had weighted on her mind and heart. He needed to tell her now more than ever, as well, his heart was racing and ready to burst from the words, which remained unsaid, and the possibility that she may return at least part of those feelings made it impossible to stand.

"Anck-su-namun... I must tell you what I feel in my heart, I have-"

"I have spoken all I wish to say to you. Now please go," she said in a shaky and angry tone.

That was it. Imhotep felt himself nearly shake with frustration and he pursed his lips together tightly, while leaning back in his seat. Defeated.

"Fine," he said, a hint of anger breaking through his no longer so patient voice.

It was useless to speak to her now, and he found himself regretting his words now more than ever. It was clear to him she'd already let him say all she was willing to allow him for the moment, her anger and hurt toward him were too great, but Imhotep would not give up until she knew; until he knew.

"Fine," she said back, still not turning around.

"Fine..." he said again, about to stand up.

He was no longer hungry, and he felt that a walk was needed. Anyplace where he could clear his head and figure out what he could do about this was all he wanted at this moment, but before he could even begin to push himself up, the double doors at the far end of the room behind him, were suddenly pushed open from the outside by four Med-jai, who had been standing watch outside.

They stood there at attention, as all the servants in the room stopped, and knelt down for the royalty, which was about to enter dining hall. Imhotep quickly moved his seat further from Anck-su-namun's, meanwhile, feeling disappointment and anger toward himself for not just saying what he wanted. At this rate... Anck-su-namun would never know how he felt, and his heart would forever be torn... from her...

Princess Nefertiri waltzed into the room first, her head high and confident. The long and golden gown she donned, painted with the sacred blossoms of the lotus flower up and down the revealing fabric, which fitted tightly to her svelte body, and seemed to bend to her every movement.

Her face was stern, and carried with her an air of regality, which she had so obviously inherited from her father. If any woman was more respected in Egypt, it was Princess Nefertiri, for her father had seen to it that she grow up a strong and confident woman.

As she passed, any and all bowed their heads down in respect for their princess, as they did every evening, and would for the many to come.

Nefertiri's eyes only stared past them all, as if none existed in her mind, for her father had taught her long ago that one of her status need not to acknowledge those lower than she, as it was their duty to pay such tribute for their royalty. Nefertiri; however, was frankly bored with this routine.

It was always the same. Walk in, be doted upon, and be seated at the table. She was exasperated by it all. What she truly longed for was to be with her dear Asim, instead of making these trivial appearances, as a princess was expected to do, but her father would never approve of his eldest daughter being missing from his table, and so, she quickly, and lithely made her way toward her designated seat, her eyes immediately falling directly upon her newly made friend, Imhotep. His conversations usually gave her enough of a distraction from her troubles and she rather enjoyed any talks with him.

She smiled, as she watched him already seating himself at his place at the table, ever the punctual one. She was sure, at first, that he must surely be feeling better from the previous night, but then it registered within her mind what exactly she had just seen him doing.

He had just pulled away from her father's detestable concubine, after seeming a little too close for any friendly conversation...and on top of that, his retreat from her had seemed all too abrupt...as though there were something he were trying to conceal... She did not like the looks of this, nor the way it caused her to feel, as she worriedly seated herself down at the head of the woman's table, directly across from Imhotep's seat.

She nodded kindly at Imhotep, completely ignoring Anck-su-namun who sat on the floor to her left.

Her father may find her fitting to his needs, but that did not mean that she had to show any care, or kindness towards his glorified harem girl while in his absence.

"High Priest," she smiled, while praying that what she'd seen had only been in her imagination.

Imhotep respectfully returned the gesture and nodded back, his eyes blinking shut for the action, as he forced a pleasant smile, and folded his hands together upon the table.

"Princess."

Nefertiri held her smile, though she found herself feeling more and more awkward in the strange silence, which befell them after their words.

She found herself giving a glance to Anck-su-namun...What had those two been discussing?

Before she could delve into her search for the answer, the double doors to the room swung open once more, guards and servants falling to their knees immediately, as Seti's youngest daughters now entered into the room, gracefully making their way over to their sister.

It was their father's wish that Nefertiri set an example for her siblings, as she was the eldest, and arrive first, as a representation of the royals, followed by her sisters, for their father enjoyed being the last to enter the dining hall. To him, it felt as a means of making his presence deemed and felt more important to all, by leaving everyone to wait in anticipation for his arrival, like the god he deemed himself to be.

The girls took their seats, as did the other occupants who followed. The seating arrangements were simplistic: girls on the right, boys on the left, and arranged according to importance.

Nefertiri, being the eldest, deserved the privilege of being seated closest to her father, for it was her natural right, while her younger sisters had the luxury of being seated at her right descending to the youngest.

The male's table, following the High Priest Imhotep, who was the second most powerful man in all of Egypt, were Seti's many sons, Imhotep's loyal priests, and various noblemen of the palace.

Once all were seated, silence succumbed the room, and Med-jai filed in from all around, surrounding the tables completely. Each took up their assigned posts, some behind each chair, which aligned the tables, as the others took watch from the doors and balconies. All held their sickled swords at the ready, the sharp edge of their blades gleaming before them, as they were held protruding up from their waists. Each Med-jai stared almost stone-like at whatever was ahead of them, as perfect replicas of the lifelessness, which depicted the statues aligning the halls of the palace. Asim was among them, vigilantly positioned behind his own princess...Nefertiri.

Imhotep's powerful eyes gave a glance to his friend, as did Anck-su-namun's, but if Asim looked back at either of them it was undetectable. The workings of a Med-jai was at times hard to figure.

The two torn individuals brought their eyes away from Asim simultaneously, which did not escape the princess' eye, only adding to the eerie suspicion she was beginning to feel.

Aside from the fact that something was indeed happening between both Imhotep and her father's whore, Asim now seemed to be playing some part in it and she did not like it.

Imhotep turned his eyes over to Anck-su-namun, seeing her staring down at the table before her, just as blankly as the Med-jai encircling them. Sadly, he turned his sympathetic gaze away from her and looked to Nefertiri. Immediately, his stomach took a dive when he saw her staring back at him quizzically, a hint of suspicion amongst her narrowing eyes.

He didn't blink, he just remained looking back at her, as if he had nothing to hide. Not even when Seti entered the room, did he break his locked gaze.

Surpassing all those who knelt down in respect of their king, refusing to show their eyes while in his graces, Seti smiled proudly at all everything he saw, never tiring of the authority, which he held. The sight of his people, never failed to give him a narcissistic high from their revering.

Seti now reached his seat at the head of the table, his smug expression growing ever more so, as he gazed upon his Anck-su-namun. His prize, seated for all to see upon nothing, but mere pillows at his side. His smile was almost a lustful sneer, but he quickly lifted his head up from her and walked over to greet his favored child.

"Daughter," said Seti, placing a warm kiss to his eldest's forehead, before finally bringing himself to be seated.

Nefertiri gave a loving smile back to her father, having missed the way he had looked so fondly at Anck-su-namun just a few moment's past, perhaps because she had chosen to block it from her mind.

Looking at her father, she was; however, pleased to see that he appeared in such good spirits, what with all the troubles happening with the new monuments for the festival.

"Father," she said in return with a gentle nod.

As soon, as all had seen their Pharaoh take his seat, servants rose and began carrying plates over, which were filled to the brim with food, as Seti absently surveyed the rest of his children who were all present.

He sighed, very pleased that for once all his daughters were comfortably seated. Recently, the younger two, Nuru and Jamila, had been arriving late, bringing much disappointment upon him, while contrary to them, he had heard pleasing reports from Nefertiri that Safiya and Ife had been arriving unusually early.

A dreamy sigh was suddenly heard from across the table at Imhotep's left, causing The High Priest to bring his bewildered eyes to find the cause, but what he was found was Nefertiri's younger sisters.

Princess Nuru and Princess Jamila seemed to be making faces at one another and moving food about their plates, as they were regularly seen doing, but Princess Safiya and Princess Ife... they were another story...

Neither of them were eating their dinners, in fact, Imhotep was not even sure they knew their food had arrived. Their plates were set off to their sides and each girl had an elbow set upon the table, using their right hand to prop up their little faces. They were staring directly at him, their eyes fixated dreamily, a goofy grin worn across each of their lips, as they both in unison released another sigh.

Imhotep raised an eyebrow at the remarkable sight of them. He was not entirely sure what to do, nor what to say. He just remained still, looking to them curiously, as nervousness was welling up inside of him.

What were they staring at? Did he have something on his face?

Ife and Safiya now each lifted a hand up and waved to him in eerie unision, causing Imhotep's eyes to swell round and then turn away. He immediately shook his head in amazement and decided not to even begin to think what all that had been about!

He let his eyes fall upon Seti, who had just finished allowing one of his servants to taste his food for poisons, missing the whole scenario with his children and the High Priest.

Seti turned his dark eyes upon his Imhotep, who gave a nod of respect, waiting to be spoken to, but Seti's previously pleased expression was no longer too pleasant looking, for he had been hearing lots of news, as of late about his High Priest's progresses with the festivities, or lack there of.

"Imhotep. My overseers tell me some threatening news about the Epagomenal's preparations. I have been informed that many tasks have fallen behind. For you sake, I hope that I have been informed incorrectly. Upsetting the gods is not something, which we should be striving toward... nor is upsetting your honored pharaoh," he said in a voice, which could be mistaken for no less than a warning.

Before the matter had even been uttered, Imhotep had known it would be coming. With his constant distractions, he had not been able to properly supervise all the preparations, though he remained working constantly. Some of the workers he had neglected had slacked off, as a result, causing many of the planning, surrounding mainly the new monuments, to fall behind schedule. He answered quickly and without fear.

"I assure you that I am working as hard as possible to correct this neglectfulness taking hold within the temples. All will be done in time. The gods will have nothing to be displeased over," he said, calmly, letting his eyes drift to Anck-su-namun for a split second, but still she would not look up from her legs.

Imhotep withdrew a breath and continued to speak to his Pharaoh, deciding to take his chance.

"But I am sorry for the troubles it has caused you in the meantime. It is something that will not happen again and I will do whatever it takes to make amends for any faults of my own," he added, glancing once more at Anck-su-namun only long enough for Seti not to take notice.

"I trust that you will," answered Seti. "I will accept nothing less from you than the best, and you are correct, Imhotep, you will do whatever it takes, and the gods will have nothing to be displeased about..." he said. "Now! Let us all eat and enjoy what the gods have left for us," he announced with his arms in the air and a smile upon his slightly weathered face.

Everyone permitted to feast, began their meals, as Seti turned his eyes on Anck-su-namun.

Yes, she had recovered quite nicely. He could not wait to make her his once again; taste her as he once had. In fact, he would do so the moment dinner ended. He had lusted for her ever since that first night. Though she had been so defiant, his drive for her had only strengthened. One day she would submit to him, she only needed to see this; learn it. She would learn how to behave, how to please him, for her beauty already drove him mad with lust.

Seti reached up and rested a hand on the side of Anck-su-namun's head, touching her thick, full, black hair. He smiled once again, though it was a wicked grin, as in his mind danced images of what he would soon be doing to her.

He dropped his hand from her and snapped his fingers, signaling to her that she may now feed him and care for him. Anck-su-namun's hands quickly reached out and grabbed one of the bowls from the table and began to pluck food from them and slip them to Seti's mouth.

Seti opened wide his mouth, allowing the date she had plucked up to enter his mouth, but when he closed his mouth over it, he made sure her fingers were sucked into his mouth before pulling his head back, causing them to slip back out.

He smiled once more at her, as she reached down for another, not looking disgusted in the least.

Yes, his prize. Not only did he allow her inside the dining hall for this, but he enjoyed flaunting her before his court in an attempt to make other men see what they could only wish to possess; see what they could never even touch. The power it instilled him with, the sheer superiority, made him mean with arrogance, but filled with joys unimaginable.

Imhotep was watching this whole thing from the corners of his eyes, as he tried to force himself to eat. How could he not see any of it? He seethed at the sight of Seti touching her silken hair, and nearly lost all control over his stomach when he had to witness the one he coveted feeding that snake.

Suddenly, he had lost his appetite...