Despite our reservations, Anaka came out looking every bit a young queen after the head maid Mahti was done with her. The old woman dabbed at her sweaty brow with a linen cloth and stepped back to admire her work. "You look beautiful, Princess."

Anaka gave a twirl, her pale red skirt dusting the floor as gold bangles and beads chimed on her wrists and in her braided hair. Her matching top, almost sheer, outlined the buds of her still growing breasts underneath. Offering a tempting view for her soon to be husband.

"Do you think Amon-Set will like it?" she beamed.

"How could he not?" Zahara slipped a gold bangle with a red stone from her wrist and slid it on to Anaka's slender arm, the shade almost matching the rouge of her lips. "May the gods bless your union."

I slipped off my blue crystal bangle, sliding the smooth stone on her other wrist. "May Ra smile upon your wedding day."

"Don't forget my wedding night," she winked and I forced myself to smile.

"Yes that too."

"I am so nervous sisters," Anaka clasped a hand with Zahara with mine, squeezing tight. "What if he doesn't like me?"

"What's not to love?" Zahara squeezed Anaka's cheeks with her free hand making a kissing face as Anaka swatted her away with a laugh.

"You are both so wise and beautiful, I feel like a baby cub beside you two."

"You are a baby," Zahara laughed, earning a swat from Anaka, which she gracefully dodged.

"I wish I had hair like yours," Anaka tugged at the ends of my long chestnut waves, an envious look in her eyes.

"No you don't." My wavy hair puffed in the heat and tangled easily. I should have cut it, but it was usually tucked under my hair covering; and though my personal maid Imi had clipped it back for tonight with gold flower pins it still trailed down heavy to my hips.

Truthfully, I had always wished I looked more like my sisters. That my skin was a deep sun-kissed bronze and not ashen like the pale clay we used to make our pots. Their inky straight locks like a sweep of a brush across papyrus. Beautiful, proud, Egyptian- not the odd duck in the flock. Though we were daughters of different mothers, we shared our fathers eyes- a deep brown. The daughter of a Greek dancer, whose light skin and honey waves had charmed my father. My mother had passed to the afterlife, shortly after my birth; before he took his second and final consort Anaka's mother.

"You look like Hathor, the goddess of beauty herself," I assured her.

"Thank you, sisters." Anaka fluttered her thick lashes adored with black and red, that highlighted her almond eyes.

"Zahara are you not changing? I had hoped to see you in a traditional dress finally." Anaka's mother's voice caused all the servants' heads to turn, snapping to attention as she floated in, draped in a pale blue kaftan and matching dress underneath. Her blue and gold beaded collar chiming with every step.

"Greetings consort Hephta,"they bowed as she glided by.

"I feel more comfortable in this." Zahara looked down at her dark blue high-slit skirt and short chain top. Hephta pursed her lips but didn't pursue the topic further. She had always been unconventional when it came to dress. Wearing her hair cut just above the chin and donning men's wraps and chained breast coverings, claiming it was easier to hunt and fight in. And though she turned heads, none admonished her. While Anaka, and I had taken household and bride lessons, Zahara had spent her days learning how to divide land and rations among the people. How to be a pharaoh.

"You look like a Queen my child," Anaka's mother beamed grasping the hands of her daughter tight. "Look at all these bangles, how could anyone not see you are the brightest treasure in our land?" She turned her head curling a finger for one of the servants to come forward with a beautifully carved stone box. Inside Hephta pulled from it a glittering gold bangle with a jewel winged scarab on top. "To bless your marriage in this life and the next," she smiled, slipping it on and adding the final band to Anaka's collection.

"Will you be dancing for us tonight, Nefari?" she turned her head acknowledging me outside the temple for once. It was customary for the priestess to offer a blessing dance at the wedding, which would be held in five days' time. Though not a requirement for the welcome feast it was still expected. My stomach was already in knots at the thought of seeing him again, nevermind dancing.

But I had come prepared regardless, Imi had dressed me in my best dance robes. A long ribbon of cloth wrapped around my breast to bind them for easy movement and a beautiful gold beaded collar- my most expensive one- with strings of shimmering pearls that chimed down draping over my breast and falling above my navel.

I wore a long white skirt inspired by Zahara's fashion with a high slit up the left side exposing my hip and held in place with a gold chain belt that chimed when I swayed to the music. White ribbons tied round my wrists, which I used during my dance, completed the ensemble. I did not wish to outshine my sister on her first meeting with him but a small dark part of me wanted to be more beautiful, wanted him to see the woman I had become.

"Sisters' dances are always so beautiful," Anaka chimed.

"Yes like mother like daughter, I suppose," Hephta added with a feline grin. It was not a compliment.

"I should wait for the head priests to arrive." It was only proper that I have an escort.

"Nonsense we are still sisters," Anaka looped her arm through mine with a smile that said she wouldn't take no for an answer. Snagging Zahara with her other arm as she dragged us both out of the room I knew so well. With its half moon balcony and its warm, rich rugs and fabrics. Everything was familiar, down to the "N" that had been carved in the bedpost banister when it had been mine.

The thrumming of drums echoed down the hall in time with my racing heart. Laughter and music fluttering on the warm evening breeze. Ra's eye had already slid past the world's edge, leaving Nut to guard the night sky and the many hanging oil lamps to light our path.

A few blue robed priests in training passed us by, bowing to the princesses.

"May Ra's light shine upon you," they nodded to me last.

"And blessing be upon you," I nodded toward them, finishing the formal greeting.

"Have you any word, priestess?" The younger trainees looked up at me with reverence. The look that said they wondered what it was like to have a God whisper words of wisdom in my ear.

I wondered too.

Not once had I heard Ra's voice, had a vision or even a whisper of dream that could be interpreted as a message from my godly husband. In the eight years I had been an official priestess only silence answered my songs and prayers.

"All is well," I lied with a practiced ease. "The tree will soon bear fruit." I smiled ever so slightly and the young boy's mouths' parted wide in awe. My answers were always vague enough that the high priests would interpret the message to the people as they saw fit.

"Thank you priestess," The young priests' bowed again.

"I wish I could hear the words of a God," Anaka picked up the pace as we neared the grand hall.

"It is a great and noble burden," Zahara unlinked her arm as she took her spot ahead of us, waiting to be announced.

"Yes," I agreed, determined to take my lies to the afterlife. The only thing worse than a liar was a fake. "I will wait for the high priests to take me in." I wiggled out of Anaka's firm grip. She gave me watery eyes silently begging me to stay. "You will be fine." I assured, "Zahara will take care of you."

"I'll see you later, for the dance?" I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. Another lie. I would pray for forgiveness later.

A wise priestess would have waited for the High Priests to announce her arrival. Would have bowed a proper greeting to the envoys from the South and not snuck in through the servants door, like she was spying on a bathing maiden. But I had no intentions of being announced in. Of having all eyes on me, including his. I needed to see what I was up against first. To see the man he had become.

I clung to the shadows of the large columns as the hall gave way into the grand room. A band played in the corner where a troupe of dancers and jugglers performed fire magic and acrobatics.

Long wooden tables filled with nobles and merchants faced the head table where my father and sisters sat at the back of the room. Each piled high with bountiful plates of meats; ostrich, antelope, goat and quail. There was steamed fish and a variety of fruits, nuts and honey cakes to accompany the beer and wine that was passed around on golden trays. I squinted trying to make out the figure beside Anaka but there were too many people blocking my view. I need to get closer.

The smooth stone felt cool at my back as I pressed into the side of it, trying to mold flesh and bone with rock as I slinked around columns toward the head table, eyes focusing on the man sitting between Anaka and my father, that could only be him.

He sat a good head taller than her- maybe more- as he listened to Anaka chatter with focused golden eyes; like two yellow suns for which the world turned. Amon's' eyes. But the face attached was not his. This man had short midnight hair cropped close to his head with a simple golden circle across his forehead. The lack of long hair highlighted a strong jaw, and sharp features.

I watched Amon bring his hands to rest below his chin as he listened to my father interrupting the conversation, no doubt trying to rekindle old war stories from his youth. Jeweled rings adored long slender fingers and I gazed, transfixed, as he slid one of those fingers back and forth across his lower lip in thought.

Gone was the pudge, replaced with a strong jaw and a dark short stubble that framed the lower half of his face. A stern serious face. A man's face. He wore a large gold and obsidian beaded collar with a thin line of red at the end. It was beautiful- dark- like him. My gaze traveled lower as a heat flourished in my cheeks, and that's where the disconnect became apparent.

His skin, a baked bronze from his time in the sun, shone under the glow of the many oil lamps that burned around the warm room, highlighting planes and ridges of muscles. Some areas were raised with scars that had formed and healed; his body a canvas for his battles. The edge of the table blocked my view from exploring further and my head snapped back to his face only to find a pair of golden eyes staring directly at me.

I froze.

Holding my breath, as if that would suddenly make me less visible. A ringing chimed in my ears as I swallowed the pulse in my throat. Like hunter and prey, both of us started; waiting for the other to make the first move.

And then a brush of Anaka's fingers across his forearm clawed his attention away and the spell was broken.

My feet stumbled into motion, as I turned from the room. I took the servant's passage out bumping into a startled maid carrying goblets of wine. "Priestess!" She swerved out of the way, several cups clattering to the floor with a splash of blood red. I nodded an apology, dipping out and turning right down the halls as I picked up my pace passing several more servants carrying trays of food.

My feet kept walking faster and faster till I broke into a jog only pausing when I had reached the hall where the edge of the pool gardens crept into the main palace.

Water flowed in from the Nile to the stone steps that led down into a carved out area, where white lotus spotted the pond, like fragile tears on its dark glassy surface. Their beauty in the light of the rising moon, ethereal and fleeting. I took a moment to breathe in their floral scent, a hand on my chest to still my galloping heart.

"Priestess," a deep voice beckoned from behind. I spun around and my lungs squeezed a yelp of surprise; wide-eyed and gaping, like a fish out of water.

"A-Amon-" I hadn't heard him approach. "-Set" I added, almost forgetting my manners. "Greetings to the Southern Star." I bowed slightly, afraid to meet his gaze again. Afraid of what I would see written there, or worse what I wouldn't.

"It's been a while, Ari," the dark tone of his voice slid like the richest silk over my skin, a voice so foreign from the warm lightness of the boy I knew. I swallowed hard, wordlessly opening and closing my mouth as memories crawled from the dark corners I had stuffed them in, surfacing feelings and thoughts I'd drowned long ago.

He stood at a horses pace from me, with those golden eyes that invited sin. To forsake duty and dip my toes in desire.

Not all evil looks evil.

This one looked like a god, but he smiled like a beast.

And he was coming closer...