I know I didn't mention in the text what disease was hitting the place, though I mentioned some possibilities. The one that I chose was typhoid fever. It isn't exactly a fun disease, but few of them are.
Bast (also referred to as "Bastet") is a cat-headed goddess, a goddess of protection and cats, associated with perfume, dancing, and singing. She's also one of the more commonly known Egyptian goddesses.
One of the big problems with the Egyptian afterlife was that you were supposed to journey through the underworld, which was a dangerous place with Apep and other hazards to deal with. That's why they created the Book of Life, which is essentially a collection of spells and instructions on how to get past all these things and not end up with a horrible fate. And once you managed to make it to Anubis, he would judge you by having your heart weighed against the Feather of Truth, which came from Ma'at. If your heart was weighed down with lies and crimes against the gods and pharaoh, it was eaten by Ammit and you were doomed to oblivion. If it was lighter than the feather due to leading an orderly and obedient life, you got to enjoy the afterlife. Oh, and the entire mummification and burial process took approximately 70 days. No one can ever deny that they were thorough.
Another chapter for your viewing pleasure is now ready. Enjoy!
It had been a difficult season of sickness, all pleas to Sekhmet failing to relieve the suffering. Fever, headache, and coughing were quickly joined by delirium and red splotches on the body. Other issues of the abdomen may appear that could be seen by skilled physicians, but the fever and delirium were the easiest to spot. Some may recover if the physicians were skilled, but others were lost. No group of people was spared from the illness. Slaves, servants, craftsmen, priests, scribes, and even members of the royal family were touched by sickness as the harsh summer continued.
When the fevers began to cool for some, it was already too late for others. Several familiar servants within the palace were gone. One of the pharaoh's wives, a princess from another kingdom who wed him to help form an alliance, also fell to the illness. But the death that Ahkmrenrah felt the saddest about was Aneksi, his half-sister.
Professional mourners wept and cried out in the streets. Her body was cleaned, dried in natron, and wrapped in linen. As the wife of the future pharaoh, Aneksi was entitled to have her body properly prepared and taken to a respectable tomb. She would be ensured a wonderful afterlife, buried with protective amulets and spells necessary to keep her safe so that the dangers of the underworld did not touch her.
None of that changed the fact that Ahkmenrah would miss her. There were a few other children within the palace, but he did end up spending plenty of time around her and Hatshepsut whenever he got the chance. He wasn't supposed to be around them and the areas of the palace meant for the royal women, but he did. He would seek them out between his lessons, enjoying their company. And now she was gone.
Ahkmenrah stroked Nedjem's ears gently, coaxing a purr from the sacred cat. It was a comforting sound. He'd always liked the felines that stalked the palace and hunted rodents. They were friendly creatures. And when he needed them, one of the cats would let him hug and pet the sacred animals of Bast. It was true in the past and it was true in the present.
"I thought I might find you here."
He glanced up to see Hatshepsut join him on the bench. They'd both changed a little over the years since they began spending time with one another. He'd reached the age where his side-lock of youth was cut off and his body was showing a few signs of the time he spent learning combat. She was showing hints of a womanly figure and now wore a lovely wig. They were growing up, though there were times that they still acted as if they were children.
Ahkmenrah found himself smiling almost against his will as she sat beside him, close enough that Nedjem's tail could flick her occasionally. He'd been doing that a lot around her lately; he just kept smiling for no reason when she was near. Even his sadness in regards to Aneksi's death wasn't enough to completely smother that reaction. And he wasn't sure he wanted to.
In the earlier years, he treated both girls the same and viewed them in a similar manner to each other. He simply liked spending time with them, playing games and such. More recently, Ahkmenrah had been seeking them out more often because he wanted to see Hatshepsut specifically. He'd still liked Aneksi, but there was something different about the other girl. There was something special about her, something that made him smile and feel warm inside.
"You always seek out one of the sacred cats when you are upset," she continued, reaching over to pet the feline. "And I knew Nedjem likes to curl up in the sun here during the day and I knew Nedjem is your favorite. So I knew I'd find you here."
She was right. The day Kahmunrah left the palace, the younger prince sought out Nedjem. Even if his brother could be a little aloof, he didn't want him to leave. The then-kitten comforted Ahkmenrah as he faced the knowledge that he wouldn't see his brother for years. And now he had done the exact same thing.
Smiling slightly at her, Ahkmenrah said, "You have always known me well."
"You are easy to know, Prince Ahkmenrah. You are smart, thoughtful, and kind-hearted. You are obedient to the pharaoh and the gods. You prefer to think before you take action, you study your lessons carefully, and you have always spoken gently with the servants even when they make mistakes. You are a good person and a good prince."
Perhaps Ra's journey across the sky was closer to the ground than usual. The sun's light must be hitting him more directly than usual. It was the only explanation he could think of for why his face felt so warm now.
Her face growing briefly more somber, she said, "We shall all miss Aneksi, but she is certain to find peace in the afterlife. There is no doubt that her heart will be lighter than the feather of Ma'at and she will be judged fairly by Anubis. I also believe that she shall be happier in the underworld than she would have been if she remained among the living."
"Why do you say that, Hatshepsut?"
"From the times we spoke together, it seems she was uncertain that she wanted to be Prince Kahmunrah's Chief Wife."
Ahkmenrah frowned briefly as Nedjem's head tilted so the prince's petting move to the ears. It took him a few moments, but he thought he might understand a little. Some days it was difficult to imagine all the responsibilities that would rest on his shoulder. All his lessons were meant to prepare him to serve as Kahmunrah's advisor, but the younger prince occasionally worried it wouldn't be enough. He didn't want to let his brother and the kingdom down. Since even his future role as a mere advisor was, it made a little sense. Of course Aneksi would worry about being Kahmunrah's Chief Wife. Mother's example would be hard to match.
"Come with me, Ahkmenrah," she said, pulling the prince to his feet abruptly enough to startle Nedjem. "Let us find a more cheerful way to spend our time. Aneksi would not wish for us to brood."
Knowing she was right, he allowed Hatshepsut to lead him away. It didn't take him long to realize her destination. She pulled him towards one of the gardens. He was quite aware she liked that particular garden in the same way that she knew he would seek out the sacred cats. It was somewhere she was happy and felt comfortable. In a way, it was amazing. They knew each other so well by now.
Merenkahre stood in his chamber, staring out at the night. The pale light of the full moon painted the land in softer colors than what he could see during the day. A gentle breeze reached him, the heat of the day already fading from the sand and stone. In the distance, he could spot a few late-night travelers, hopefully protected by Khonsu. It was beautiful and peaceful, almost reminding him of the night his younger son was born.
Unfortunately, thinking too much about that wonderful night reminded the man of the prophecies that surrounded both of his sons. And they were troubling him lately.
Reports of Kahmunrah's time away trickled in every now and then, painting a scene of fierce battles and undeniable victories in his mind. There was no doubt in Merenkahre's mind that his eldest son had grown into an effective warrior with a cunning mind for battle. The scattered reports confirmed it.
And there was nothing wrong with being a capable fighter and being able to lead men against an enemy. In the earlier days of being a pharaoh, Merenkahre vanquished plenty who tried to rebel against his rightful place as ruler. He'd even tied the severed head of a particularly annoying opponent to the front of his boat once to send a message. He didn't completely regret the choices of his youth, but they were not necessary the same actions he'd choose presently. Merenkahre knew he'd grown more thoughtful with age and wisdom. And yet even in his bolder and more violent days of the past, the pharaoh remembered having some restraint. Kahmunrah seemed to lack it.
No matter where the elder prince and his troops were sent, they always seemed to go farther and slaughter more people than they were ordered. He was effective at quelling whatever unrest, dangerous bandits, or troublesome neighbors they might encounter, but there were rarely many survivors. The prince and his troops were very thorough. There were whispers of new titles for Kahmunrah in response to his actions. He was called "Kahmunrah the Bloodthirsty" and "He Who Kills Those Who Do Not Oblige." And no matter how many times Merenkahre sent orders for them to relocate to another problem and that there was nothing wrong with a little restraint, it always seemed to end up the same.
The reports of his son's various campaigns stayed in his mind, just as the words to the prophecy he tried to ignore for years. The words of the gods, spoken by Khemsait, said "if he is given power over someone, only pain and suffering will follow." And once he was allowed the chance to order soldiers, it had come true. It was also said that "he shall bathe the throne in blood, bury the weak alive, and seek power from all sources," but Merenkahre couldn't believe that. He could not allow himself to think that his son would cause so much harm when he was allowed to become pharaoh. There had to be another possibility.
The pharaoh closed his eyes briefly and dragged his hand tiredly across his face. Time had not been completely kind to him. The life as ruler of the kingdom and supreme authority among humans due to his divine heritage had aged him enough to leave their mark. Lines were etched across his face where once there were none. He was growing older. Even if accident or disease didn't take him, he knew that his years were numbered. It was past time that he consider preparations for the next pharaoh, finishing Kahmunrah's education on his other political and religious duties. His son must return home soon.
He'd hoped that his eldest son would learn discipline and control during his time away, but the reports didn't reflect that. Merenkahre sent a quick and heartfelt prayer to any gods who might listen that he was wrong and that Kahmunrah had grown in the last several years. He'd hoped to play to his sons' strengths, allowing the elder prince to study combat, strategy, and tactics while raising Ahkmenrah to serve as an advisor on more diplomatic and political matters. The two of them would balance each other, ensuring that Kahmunrah's reign would be a successful one that would be remembered for all of time. Now the pharaoh couldn't help wondering if there was any chance to make it work or if all his efforts were wasted.
Merenkahre forced his eyes open and stared up towards the night sky once again. It was foolish to spend too much time worrying and wondering about all the possibilities. He had not seen Kahmunrah in years, the prince not even returning when his wife died. Any decisions that the pharaoh might consider could wait until he had the chance to see his son again. He needed to see what sort of man he'd grown to be. Only then could he determine what would be the wisest course of action.
Hatshepsut knew that it was beyond time that she should be married. She'd spent the last twenty years of her life learning to read and write, the various prayers and rituals required for many of the gods and goddesses, and Shepsheret's ability to manipulate advisors without them realizing it. She also made sure to learn how to run the royal household properly, as was the duty of any half-decent woman. But no matter what skills or knowledge she gained, it didn't change the fact she knew it would eventually lead to her marriage to one of the princes.
Adjusting her wig and straightening her dress, Hatshepsut found herself smiling as she left her room. With Kahmunrah's continued absence over the years, none of the princesses had married him since the late Aneksi. A couple of them were sent to neighboring kingdoms, but most were simply waiting around. Most would eventually become wives to the elder prince, though they would have to wait for his return and most still probably wouldn't marry him until after the coronation.
One, however, would end up with Ahkmenrah and they all knew it. And even though it would mean missing out on being the wife of a pharaoh, several of the young women preferred the idea of marrying the younger prince. Of course, it took time for him to grow up and there was no true hurry for him to be wed as young as his brother was. That gave him time to know the various girls. And it gave him time to grow close to one in particular.
No matter what anyone might say later, Hatshepsut knew she did not do anything wrong. She did not attempt to gain the younger prince's favor over the years in an effort to become his wife. She originally saw him as a companion, someone she enjoyed speaking to and who was clever when it came to games. It was only as they grew older that she realized that he might someday become a good husband, one that she could love and cherish. And then she figured out that he was looking at her differently as well, staring at her as if he wished for her to be his wife.
She loved Ahkmenrah. And he seemed to love her in return. Neither of them had spoken of such a thing to the other yet, but that was all right. There was time. He'd lived through fifteen floodings of the Nile. From what she'd heard from the servants, most men outside the royal family would only be starting to consider marriage at that age. And Ahkmenrah would have to bring up the issue to Father if they wished to someday wed, his blessing required before they could proceed. Though she knew Pharaoh Merenkahre loved his younger son dearly and would be happy with the union, there was no need to hurry. As Ahkmenrah was the younger prince, there was no immediate need for him to marry and have an heir. There was plenty of time for it just to be the two of them.
With a smile on her face and a light heart, Hatshepsut headed down the hall towards her final destination. She only paused a moment as she passed the colorful images on the wall depicting Nephthys, the goddess who was the mother of Anubis, wife of Set, and sister of Isis. The princess was particularly fond of that goddess. She was a protector of the dead and known as the Lady of the House. She wasn't as important or as powerful as some gods and goddesses. At times it seemed that her relationships to others were the only reasons to give her notice. When the princess thought about the fact, she worried that the women of the royal family were similarly useful only due to being related to more important people. But, as Hatshepsut looked at the red-dressed figure with falcon wings, she remembered that she was a goddess of death, service, lamentation, night time, and rivers. She helped Isis bring back Osiris after his murder and helped protect the dead alongside her sister. It helped to remind Hatshepsut that a partner who could help others could be just as important as someone who wielded power alone.
After that minor pep talk and the thoughts it produced about standing beside the future main advisor to the pharaoh, Hatshepsut hurried the rest of the way down the hall and out into the garden. And even with how busy he was now, Ahkmenrah was standing beneath a tree and waiting for her. The young man was five years younger than her and still growing, but he was showing clear signs of becoming more handsome with age. When he smiled at her, the princess found herself smiling in response. By the time she greeted Ahkmenrah with a hug, both of them wore bright grins on their faces.
"Now that Father asks you to attend so many meetings, I barely get to see you," she said. "I hope that they at least appreciate your wisdom if they insist on stealing your time so often."
"I am not certain how much wisdom I might have to offer, but they do listen to my ideas," he said.
Placing her hand softly on his shoulder, Hatshepsut said, "Nonsense. You may not be as wise as Thoth and you may be younger than most of those advisors, but I know that you have plenty of wisdom to share."
She could see that he had news to share. There was a light in his eyes, an excitement that he couldn't quite hide. Hatshepsut loved seeing that expression on his face.
"Whatever it is that you wish to tell me, speak now," she said. "I know you want to, Ahkmenrah."
Ducking his head briefly, the prince muttered, "You know me far too well." Then meeting her gaze once again, he said, "Father shared with me some wonderful news. Kahmunrah is coming home."
Hatshepsut fought the urge to react. She kept her expression relatively happy for the younger prince, no matter how much the news worried her. It may have been years, but she still remembered him and how he was during his time in the palace.
After her initial reaction, the princess forced herself to remember how she used to reassure Aneksi. He'd been gone for years. He could have changed. There was no reason to worry. And even Kahmunrah still acted the same as before, Hatshepsut knew how to avoid drawing his wrath.
Besides, Ahkmenrah loved and missed his older brother. He was clearly happy to hear he was coming back. He was excited to see the elder prince again after so many years apart. And Hatshepsut couldn't ruin his good mood.
"I am surprised to hear that," she said carefully, "but I suppose his return is long overdue."
Somehow, his grin managed to widen even further as he said, "It will be nice to see my brother again."
From the moment he set foot in the building, Kahmunrah gained a smug smirk on his face. He may have spent about a decade away from the palace, training and engaging in battle with equal ferocity, but it still felt like home. The elder prince knew he belonged, that it was where he would someday command the kingdom in the same way he commanded soldiers on the battlefield.
Most of the men he'd commanded were currently dispersed to help with the harvest and construction as was tradition for returning soldiers, but Kahmunrah knew they would return the instant he summoned them for combat. They were loyal to Egypt and very loyal to their future pharaoh. If he chose to order them to slaughter each other without explanation, he doubted any of them would hesitate for long. Surely that level of obedience and their results would impress Father.
For a little while, Kahmunrah had wondered why his soldiers were always being redirected to new locations before they could finish. But he understood now that Father wanted to simply make the best use of them. Rather than isolate their effective and ruthless results, the pharaoh wished to expand the area they could affect. It was the only logical explanation.
The only member of his forces that wasn't dismissed to work on manual labor in the meantime was Sneferu. The former thief walked slightly behind the prince as they entered the palace. Kahmunrah knew better than that.
"While we are here, I require you to infiltrate the other servants and the slaves," the prince commanded quietly. "Listen and learn everything you can. It is useful to have this knowledge if necessary. I need to know who within these walls will serve my needs the most effectively."
"Of course, Prince Kahmunrah," he said. "I shall do as you ask."
"Prince Kahmunrah," a servant greeted, bowing respectively and with a hint of dread. "Your safe return is most welcome after your travels and the battles in the name of the pharaoh. If you follow me, there is a chamber awaiting your arrival so that you may refresh yourself from the journey and a don a clean tunic. There is to be a feast this evening to celebrate your presence once more in the palace."
The young man smiled briefly and replied honestly, "How delightful. It will be so nice to enjoy a proper bath again. Not to mention more comfortable and appropriate garments for royalty. Lead the way," he commanded, taking only a second to dismiss Sneferu.
As promised, there were clothes and a bath waiting for the elder prince. The other servants and slaves must have just finished carrying the water because it was pleasantly warm still and he didn't even have to shout his customary threat to disembowel someone for their incompetence. It was a minor shame since his time on the battlefield increased his imagination in regards to inventive torments, but the warm water and sweet-smelling oils left his mood pleasant regardless.
By the time he was nearly dressed again and looked how a future pharaoh should, an older servant had entered the chamber carrying a pitcher and cups. He was mildly surprised that it didn't occur to him until she placed her burden on a nearby table that she was familiar. She was older, but still recognizable.
"You, stay there," he ordered. Then, directing his attention to the others in the chamber, Kahmunrah commanded, "Get out."
The rest of the servants and slaves, who had previously been helping him dress and performing other menial tasks, scurried eagerly out of the room. The prince barely acknowledged their existence as they left. There was no reason to do so since they were little better than mobile furniture. The only one he'd ever truly noticed was the one who stayed behind.
"Hello, Raia," he said.
She smiled warmly and respectfully, "It is good to see you again, my prince. It was not the same without you here."
"Then I suppose it is good that I have returned," said Kahmunrah. "I am here to select a new wife and take my proper place beside Father as his heir."
There was a brief flash of emotion across her face, one that was easy to miss or ignore. But he still managed to spot it. Something was wrong, something she wanted to hide from him. The prince frowned, a tension filling him until Kahmunrah felt like a cobra about to strike. There was a threat of some kind; he needed to identify it and destroy it.
"Tell me, Raia," he said. "What troubles you?"
Her eyes dropped momentarily before she spoke. He tone was hesitant and cautious, as if she was afraid to offend the prince, the pharaoh, or the gods. But Kahmunrah wished for her to speak and Raia never before disappointed or disobeyed him, so he knew she would do as he commanded.
"You have been gone for a long time, my prince. You have been away from the pharaoh's gaze with only the words of others to let him know of your deeds. Your younger brother was within sight, his growth and accomplishments easy to witness. I fear that in the absence of his heir, the pharaoh may have begun to favor Prince Ahkmenrah more than I expected. And though I cannot explain why such dread would fill my heart when your birthright should be so clear, I believe it would be wise to take care to ensure others can see your worthiness to rule. It has always been obvious to me, my prince. I hope your time away has not blinded others to that truth."
Something deep inside his chest coiled and tightened. Surely Father would not forget how much his heir deserved the throne? There news of victories and conquered foes must have reminded him enough. None who stood against his forces survived for long. Kahmunrah had ensured that, squeezing out weaknesses such as mercy and restraint in battle from his soldiers. Surely it proved that Kahmunrah was ready to rule and none could compare?
But Ahkmenrah remained in the palace during those years. He remained in sight, winning over the attention and affection of others as usual. Even with the knowledge of how unnecessary the young prince was, Mother and Father adored him. Kahmunrah remembered that clearly. Without the presence of their more important son, how much could that boy get in the way and distract them? He could easily have spent those years trying to earn what belonged to Kahmunrah.
Of course he would fail at such a thing, but it irked the elder prince. The idea that someone might try to steal what Kahmunrah desired and was entitled to… No, that would not do.
Whether or not Raia's concerns held any merit, the elder prince knew he would have to make a point. He needed to assert his right as the future ruler. He needed to send a clear demonstration that his baby brother was nothing. He had to do it. It was he act of a powerful pharaoh.
A few ideas began to slither around the back of his mind, but Kahmunrah couldn't focus on them for long. Another servant had already arrived to escort him to the feast. The elder prince followed her down the once-familiar halls, plans on asserting his dominance and power carefully tucked away.
If the delicious smell of roasted antelope and beef didn't already tell him how impressive the feast would be, the crowds around the table certainly did. High-ranked individuals, various wives, and numerous princesses were gathered next to fresh breads of all sorts, chickpeas, leeks, figs, and wild poultry roasted into a mouth-watering meal. Musicians played in the corner and their music filled the air, the women consisting of only the most talented and skilled players in the kingdom. A smile momentarily crossed his face. This was truly a feast worthy of the future pharaoh.
Then that smile shifted into a grimace. Across the large chamber, half-hidden behind one of the broad columns was Ahkmenrah. He'd grown taller and his side-lock of youth was gone, but Kahmunrah knew who he was. The younger prince was speaking animatedly to one of their half-sisters, clearly oblivious to how much Kahmunrah wished that Sobek would send a crocodile to attack him. The burning resentment of years past had not faded with time and Raia's words only served to coax the flames higher.
Though he wanted nothing to do with his brother, the elder prince forced himself to start walking. As the heir, it was Kahmunrah's right to sit near the pharaoh whenever Father arrived. And to reach that position, he would have to approach the younger prince's current location.
"Kahmunrah," greeted Ahkmenrah, breaking off from his conversation at the sight of his brother. "I almost did not recognize you after all this time. It has been far too long since you have been home."
With only a hint of annoyance since any more would give the younger prince greater attention than he deserved, he said, "Sometimes it is important for a leader to go and demonstrate his strength rather than remain, cringing like a child. These past years away were filled with battles and combat worthy of a future pharaoh."
"I look forward to hearing those stories, brother," smiled the younger prince. "I am certain that your adventures were worthy of our father's deeds."
"Of course they were," Kahmunrah said sharply.
Thankfully, he was spared any further conversation as the numerous titles of the pharaoh were listed in order to properly announce Father's arrival. As always, Merenkahre stood before the gathered crowd with all the regal authority that the human-incarnation of Horus deserved. Shepsheret joined him, as beautiful and graceful as Kahmunrah's memories of Mother. The sight once again made the elder prince feel like he was truly home. It also left a smirk on his face, the knowledge that he would someday command that much power filling the young man with pride.
Once the formalities were complete, Merenkahre directed his gaze upon the gathering and said, "After many years defending the people and kingdom with blade and spear, my son and heir has returned at least. Prince Kahmunrah, who sought to honor the gods and his pharaoh, earned numerous titles from his battles and left strong memories of his actions among allies and enemies alike. Let none doubt his skill as a warrior."
While his words were met with the respect and appreciation a pharaoh's declaration should receive, Kahmunrah felt that some held a hint of trepidation in response. Not all, but a few. Ahkmenrah looked suitably impressed, but the sharp bite of resentment and suspicion made Kahmunrah wonder if the reluctant response to his deeds were somehow his brother's fault.
"His return, however, is long overdue," continued the pharaoh. "Now that he is with us once more, Prince Kahmunrah can continue his preparations to someday take the throne. And he shall soon find a new wife so that my heir might have an heir of his own."
Again, there was a hint of trepidation at his words. Kahmunrah found himself scowling slightly. The princesses should be more eager to bear his sons. The one from before, the one who was speaking to Ahkmenrah earlier, looked practically nervous.
"But with all the preparations and responsibilities that now rest upon my long-absent son, Prince Kahmunrah, it would be foolish to ignore my other son," said Merenkahre, extending his hand to gesture towards the surprised younger prince. "Though Prince Ahkmenrah is not my immediate heir, he is still descended from the gods and should have recognition as my son and of being of royal blood."
At his nod, a priest entered the chamber. The man was bearing a gold object that gleamed in the torch light. Kahmunrah felt the burn of rage slithering around as he recognized the tablet, the magical creation made specifically for his worthless brother. The Tablet of Ahkmenrah. No matter what plans he might have or what Thuity crafted in Memphis, the knowledge that they created such a powerful artifact in the younger prince's name was just too hateful and terrible to ignore. The boy should not even exist, let alone received such a glorious gift. The tablet that was being carried into the chamber, the panels slightly unaligned, should have been meant for Kahmunrah.
"This tablet, created by a gathering of the greatest craftsmen and priests ever assembled, contains powerful magic. It is like nothing before," stated Merenkahre. "And just as I entrust the future throne and kingdom to Prince Kahmunrah, so too do I entrust this artifact to Prince Ahkmenrah. I am certain that both of my sons will guard their responsibilities carefully."
There was no trepidation from the audience as the young prince accepted the tablet. They were clearly happy. They adored the useless boy. Ahkmenrah's surprised and humbled expression was disgusting. How dare he accept what should belong to the heir? How dare everyone fawn over the younger prince? Kahmunrah was the only one who mattered. He was the future pharaoh.
Anything else that Father might have said fell on deaf ears. Kahmunrah just stared at the younger prince venomously. Ahkmenrah must learn his place. The useless and pointless brat must suffer for this indignity. His existence stole away what should solely belong to the elder prince, so something would need to be stolen in return.
Then, as the feast truly began, Kahmunrah noticed a small detail. While several gazed upon the younger prince with affection, one specific princess looked at him with more affection than others. It was the same one who he'd spoken to before the meal. And even more intriguing, Ahkmenrah seemed to return the sentiment since he blushed occasionally when their eyes met. If Kahmunrah didn't know better, it almost looked like…
A predatory grin spread across his face. There was a possibility, one that would assert without question who was in charge. If this didn't prove the elder prince's dominance, nothing would. And it would be a delightful piece of Ahkmenrah for all the attention and affection he'd stolen over the years.
Kahmunrah selected a juicy piece of roasted antelope. This was going to be delicious.
So Ahkmenrah finally gains the tablet. And Kahmunrah isn't happy about that. Of course, the older brother will be far more angry later on.
Just in case the various time skips are messing with you, here are the ages by the end of this chapter. Ahkmenrah is fifteen, Kahmunrah is twenty-two, and Hatshepsut is twenty. I thought you might like to know.
Also, there's a small TvTropes page for this story. The link is on my profile page. Feel free to check it out and maybe add to it if you like. Or just review. I like reviews.