It had been four years since Kisara's father died, an event which had occurred seven years after the death of her mother.

She prided herself in being independent…at least, independent to the extent that she was still alive. For a young woman with no father or husband living among the peasantry of Egypt, life was rough.

Kisara practically lived in the marketplace where she worked, selling the goods she hand crafted to earn her meagre living. And a meagre living it was; she couldn't even remember the last time she wasn't hungry, and she had been wearing the same clothes ever since her father had passed away. Her unusual blue eyes gazed out from a once-beautiful face that was now caked with dirt and flaking from the burns of her pale complexion being endlessly baked under the sun.

She was there now; seated cross legged on the ground of the market behind the few items she had to sell, her long slender fingers delicately shaping a clay statue.

Kisara was practically working with her eyes closed; they kept drifting shut of her own accord. Shaking her head, she tried to ignore their message; their endless plea for sleep. She gave a frustrated sigh, shooing away the flies that came to settle around her face.

Her father had always called her a survivor. She felt a tear roll down her face at the memory of him. He had been the only person in her life…literally. His death ate into every fibre of her being. The only worldly goods he and Kisara had had stored away, she had spent on his burial. Now, she well and truly had nothing.

A voice sounded above her head. "Hey, you."

Kisara had to resist a scowl. 'Hey, you'? She had sat in this same place every day of her life for more than four years. Surely, whoever it was had at least learned her name.

She looked up at the man. She did indeed recognise him; he was one of the hundreds of faces she had memorised amongst the daily throng of market-goers she saw here. He had done business with her on several occasions. "Yes?" she asked dryly.

He nudged one of the cloths Kisara was selling with his foot. "I'll give you a deben of corn grain for this."

"Three," Kisara said automatically, already expecting him to barter it lower. They always did. "Three debens."

He gave a scowl but didn't leave. "One deben, five kidets."

"Two debens."

"One and six."

"One and eight." Kisara crossed her arms.

After a moment, the man nodded reluctantly. "Done."

He measured out the weigh on Kisara's scales and poured it into a bag handed to him by Kisara, who quickly tied the top and set it aside for later. After taking the cloth, he disappeared without saying another word.

Kisara sighed again, looking at the small amount of grain in the bottom of the sack. It was, at least, enough to stop her from starving…for a while.

She was grateful that her father had left her with a skill, to still earn her living. There were far too many beggars in the marketplace who had not been so lucky; they had lost parents, or husbands, or children…and with them, everything else. They were a sight that even Kisara was now accustomed to.

She uttered a sad sigh. "I miss you, father," she whispered.

It had been four years since her father died. It had also been four years since she last time she smiled.

Still clinging tightly to her brother with both hands, Amane felt herself begin to shake.

There wasn't much to see upon walking inside. The room was relatively small – but the group of people on the end opposite the door all turned upon their entry, and action which alone was enough to send spires of ice through Amane's already fluttering heart.

Ryou stepped forward slightly, offering a bow as a sign of respect. In a daze, Amane followed suit.

Until now, everything could have been a dream. They could still be in their tiny home, living off their meagre food scraps. They could have never gone to the palace.

But suddenly everything was real. The reality hit Amane like a smack in the chest. Whatever else was going to happen, it was really going to happen; they were finally here. It was beyond her control.

"My sister and I have come looking for work in the palace."

Ryou's voice was clear and firm; to the frightened girl at his side, it sounded deafening. Dazedly, Amane nodded in agreement.

One of the people straightened up. "Leave us," he instructed his companions. After a few quick word of farewell, the others surrounding him filed towards the door.

Amane felt their stares as they passed her. It was almost enough to knock her off her feet. Her grip on Ryou tightened. I'm scared, brother; please, let's just go home.

The man who remained where he was walked slowly and calmly towards the two peasants. Amane's breathing all but stopped.

He seemed surprisingly young for a man in such a position as he, and judging by the richness of the garments he wore, the 'man in charge of servants' was certainly not the only position he held.

"My name is Seto," he said abruptly.

"My name is Ryou," Ryou replied cordially. After a moment in which he was clearly waiting for his sister to introduce herself, he added, "This is Amane."

Seto stopped in front of them. "You wish to work in the palace." It was a statement rather than a question.

Ryou gave a respectful nod but said nothing.

"There is no manpower required in the palace at this present time," he said matter-of-factly. "We would have no use for two extra mouths to feed."

Amane's breathing returned. Please, Ryou; he said they can't use us, so let's go. I'm scared.

Ryou didn't back down. "Then just take my sister; I'm begging you, sir. We have no means of feeding ourselves at all. I won't leave until I have found work for at least her."

Amane flinched at what Ryou was saying. He had promised her they wouldn't be separated. He had promised…

"There may be an alternative," Seto continued as if Ryou hadn't spoken. His eyes turned scrutinisingly to Amane. She gulped.

"However your sister could not take part."

"That won't be happening," Ryou said instantly.

"Then you will join the rest of the beggars outside the palace."

Ryou didn't answer, but his gaze never faltered.

Seto went on. "There is a shortage of manual labour on a temple currently being constructed in the desert. It is a two days' ride on horseback. If you accept this position, Ryou, you will be provided with food and shelter as well as an income. But…" He looked Amane up and down. "Your sister is not physically capable of surviving the work; she is too sickly and far too weak."

Amane stared at the ground, unable to meet anyone's eye. She already knew that this 'Seto' was speaking the truth.

"I will take her with me and share my earnings with her, if you will not have her taking part in the construction," Ryou said.

Seto lifted an eyebrow. "That is impossible."

Ryou hesitated, suddenly looked much less sure of himself.

"It is true than many of the conscripted workers choose to bring their families with them. However recently there have been…incidents, around the construction site. The Pharaoh has forbidden any non-essential individuals from going anywhere near the temple."

"What kind of incidents?" Ryou wanted to know.

Seto's gaze sharpened. "I am not at liberty to tell you any more than this."

Ryou's fist clenched. "So you're saying I would have to leave Amane behind."

"You shall either leave her to starve or stay here to starve with her."

Amane felt a gentle hand stroke hers. "She is coming with me; I'll take my chances with your 'incidents'. I won't leave her behind."

"This order came from the Pharaoh himself. His word cannot be countermined."

"Go, brother," Amane whispered. "Please, don't do this."

"I'm not leaving you to die."

Amane bit her lip, wishing she knew what to say.

"You say there is a shortage of workers in the building of this temple," Ryou said, addressing Seto. "You need all the workers you can get." He straightened up. "What if I went to work without pay, on the condition that you let Amane stay here in the palace?"

"No!" Amane squeaked pathetically. Neither man paid her any attention.

"It would give you some of the extra manpower the temple needs. I would not be asking for any more than what the other workers earn; I simply want it to be sent to a different place."

Seto's emotionless expression didn't change. "And why should I do that? I have no reason to allow you and special privileges."

"Show some compassion!" Ryou yelled, his voice suddenly rising in tempo. Amane jumped. "We're dying. We'll both die without work. You are our only hope."

"Tell me…what makes you any different from the next person who will come into this room asking for work in the palace?" Seto asked, his voice calm and composed. "You have a family? You're hungry? You're dying?"

Ryou fell silent.

Seto's eyes narrowed.

Amane took a tentative backwards step, still without letting go of Ryou.

"Just consider!" Ryou pleaded. "If so many people come for work, why is there a worker shortage? I will work – I will work for nothing more than enough food to keep my alive – just please, let my sister stay here. Isn't it your responsibility to the palace to let me work?"

Seto scowled. "It is not your place to tell me what my responsibility to the palace is."

"I-"

"If it will get you to leave, I accept your terms," Seto barked suddenly with enough force to make Amane flinch. "But I warn you; if anything – anything – happens to you – you are disabled or killed, or you run away – all support of your sister shall be withdrawn the second this word reaches the palace…which it will."

Amane opened her mouth to protest, but no sound came out; not even a choked cry. A chill crept up her spine.

Seto turned away. "You shall leave for the temple within the hour. If you have any farewells to give I suggest you do them quickly."

Ryou was utterly gobsmacked. For all his determination, he still couldn't believe what had just happened. "I…thank you. You have saved us."

"I have condemned you both to death."

Apparently in Ancient Egypt, the women did actually have a lot of rights :D ^^ They could own land, etc. etc. I'm not trying to portray Kisara or Amane in this chapter as hard done by due to their gender at all, but I'm worried that's how it turned out…oh well :D Just wanted to say that so you won't rip my hair out saying that I know absolutely nothing about Egyptian lifestyle T^T lol ;D I know I'm no Egyptologist, but please don't hate me if I get some facts wrong DX I'm trying~~ *sigh*

I know my characterisation in this chapter was the pits XD Lolz :3 I promise to make it better in later chapters :'D

Please please please review :'D I will love you forever :D :D :D I WUVS YOU *glomp*