He didn't move like a man.

He stalked, like a jungle cat, with slow controlled strides.

Amon's golden gaze never left mine as he moved to close the gap. But with every step forward I took one more back, instinct driving my limbs in an uncoordinated dance.

"What are you..." What are you doing here? Why did you follow me?... Why didn't you write back? But I couldn't seem to get my mouth to form the questions. His stare hypnotized my tongue into silence. So intense, so foreign.

"Ari!" His eyes widened, hand reaching for me.

I felt the hard stone floor disappear from under me, my foot sloshing into the water hitting the first step of the pond. The sudden drop left me unbalanced, arms flapping out, trying to steady myself, as my vision tilted toward the ceiling. Squeezing my eyes shut I waited for my back to hit the cool water, instead I collided with something firm.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, the dark sky painted with stars clouded by short dark hair, serious brows and eyes that twinkled with the boyish mischief I knew. When did he?...

"You haven't changed," the corners of his mouth tugged in a half smile. "Still clumsy as ever."

My heart flopped as he helped me out of the pond, his hand pressing at the small of my back. Hadn't I changed? His words sunk like a sliver after all the effort my maid Imi had put into priming me, I'd gotten my hopes up. No, it doesn't matter, I reminded myself. He has Anaka now.

"I wish I could say the same." I replied, trying to make my voice sound steady and sure as I pulled from his grip, dripping water on the stone floor, but he grasped my waist stopping me. Large hands holding firm, but gentle as he turned me to look at him. Fingers trailed up from my waist, down my arms to hold my hands leaving cold shivers in their wake. I stared at our fingers intertwined, trying hard to ignore the planes of hard chest muscles. The gold rings were cold on my flesh, but his skin was fire.

"Ari I-," my eyes snapped to his at the sound of my name, "I was hoping that-"

"Priestess!"

"Amon."

Both our heads turned simultaneously to a pair of footsteps approaching. The High Priest Hotep marched toward us with a woman I did not recognize in toe, her face souring as they drew close. A woman who hadn't used Set- his honored god title- when she called him. Who was she? Were they close?

Hotep's leather face twisted in a mix of horror and disdain at our precarious position. I took a step away from Amon as the High Priest adjusted the leopard pelt draped across his chest and down his back. The tail of the beast swishing angrily behind him as if it were his own.

"H-Hotep, what brings you here?"

"I am to announce to you at the banquet. We were looking everywhere for you." He ran a hand across his bald head as if to emphasize the headache I had caused.

"Apologies, High Priest," my chin dipped.

"So this is your infamous Priestess?" The mysterious woman beside him spoke up, her full red lips pursed as she gazed at me with scrutinizing blue eyes. The hue was mesmerizing, like twilight. She was stunning, with high cheekbones, copper skin and petite curves, the envy of every woman. Even in her simple white robes and a gold collar she commanded attention that spoke to regal birth. I wondered briefly if she was foreign, but the long straight black hair that fell to her hips spoke to her Egyptian ancestry- perhaps half, like me?

"Hello I am Priestess Nefari, of the temple of Ra." I introduced myself but I did not bow to her.

Her painted lips curled in a grin. "And how is your God treating you?"

"Sarena!" Amon cut in and the woman's eyes fell meekly to the floor at his stern tone. He turned to address Hotep, "my apologies, High Priest, I almost didn't recognize you. It has been quite some time hasn't it? I took Princess Nefari away from the banquet for a moment."

The priest's eyes narrowed. Amon and Hotep had never got along even during our temple lessons as children, he would challenge the priests' tutelage and the will of gods, but I thought he'd be above these petty quips at his age.

"And what need did you have for our Priestess?"

"Does the Southern Star of Set need a reason to call on her?" He challenged, stepping forward, his tall frame swallowing the High Priest in shadow.

The tension in the air was palpable.

Sucking in a breath, I stepped closer to Hotep, turning to Amon with a bow. "Thank you for your help out of the pond. It was good to see you Amon-Set. After all, it has been so long since we were last acquainted."

"Next time you wish to call on the Priestess please go through the temple first." Hotep added.

Amon's eyes hardened, on the High Priest. "...Of course." He brushed past me, his gaze lingering, as if trying to send a silent message. But I couldn't figure out his intent. His features and mannerisms were too serious, too commanding to be my Amon.

"Are you ready to go back to the banquet?" Hotep fell into stride beside me as we headed toward the boisterous sound of music and smell of sizzling meat that perfumed the hall.

No.

My heart was firmly lodged in my throat from our brief encounter, a twisted knot of confusion. I wanted to crawl under my sheets and hide. I couldn't stomach any more eyes on me tonight. Judging. Appraising.

"I feel a tad faint."

"Then we should get you back to the temple. I will have Imi draw you a cleaning bath and inform the banquet of your absence."

"Thank you." I expected the high priest to fight me on it. To command me to at least perform my ritual dance before retiring to my chambers, but my shoulders were already relaxing at the thought of a warm bath. I kept silent for the rest of the journey, fearing he might change his mind. 

~☾~

I was happy to trade the excitement and noise for the comfort of the stark white walls of my temple and the heady scent of frankincense that forever blanketed the air, absorbing into my skin.

When I first joined as Priestess of Ra it had been a hollow imposing place, void of the family and comforts I knew. But slowly the monotony of white walls and the daily rituals became a comfort of their own and I looked forward to the routine.

The towering temple was laid out like the body of the god it served. People would come to worship at the doors, the feet of Ra, and leave their offerings in the alcoves between the great stone columns. It was where I spent most of my time. Accepting the offerings on behalf of Ra and blessing those that brought them with sweet empty words. The guilt of it all ate away little pieces of my heart, but the smiles of the people kept me coming back. Starved for affection, recognition. Touch.

High Priest Hoteps' footsteps followed me through the grand hall, a place where great festivals were held. Further in two hallways branched on either side, like long arms, housing the priests and temple workers on one end and the kitchens and storage rooms on the other. My room was sequestered at the back of the temple. A small circular sacred space where songs of worship were sung to Ra, waiting for the deliverance of his wisdom in return. My room. I was not the most talented singer, but it sounded good enough with the acoustics and only the three high priests were ever present to listen outside my door.

One of the High Priests, Atenekam walked up from the stair in the middle of the great hall, pinning back his spotted leopard covering as he went. A thin sheen of sweat covered his face and bald head. I tried to peer around him but the door at the bottom of the steps was already closed. The floor below was forbidden to me. Where a different kind of worship took place. The sort I was only permitted to practice with my godly husband Ra, wherever in the heavens he may be.

Some nights I could hear moans and cries so loud, like they were vibrating through me. Once I crept to the top of the stairs listening to cries and wails echoing off silent stone pillars. I wondered what it felt like? If the cries were any indication, it sounded painful.

"May Ra's light shine upon you." The High Priest's voice brought me out of my reverie as Atenekam bowed his head toward me, a blue robed boy in training followed him, his eyes glazed and hair ruffled like a bird's feathered crown. He looked no older than twelve summers, when I last saw Amon.

"And blessing be upon you," I nodded toward them.

"Fetch Imi," Hotep barked at the boy, whose head snapped to attention, "The Priestess is unwell."

"Yes High Priest," the boy scuttled down the great hall, his sandals slapping a rhythmic echo.

"Thank you, I shall take my leave for the evening."

"We shall escort you."

"It is but several paces away," I glanced at the gold heroglyph door to my sanctuary down the hall. I excused myself, gliding past the two High Priests.

"Goodnight Priestess" they echoed. I could feel their eyes boring into my back as I picked up the pace to my chambers; all but slumping against the door once I was safely inside.

Curse those buzzards. They had become particularly attached in the days leading to Pharaoh Amon-Set's arrival.

I flopped on the bed staring up at the ceiling at the large depiction of the falcon headed Ra- one who sees all- painted in gold surrounded by a glittering sun. A reminder that my godly husband was always above me.

The round room was not particularly decorated to my taste, but I had learned to call it home. The white silk drapes of my bed frame, that cocooned me from the troubles awaiting outside my room. The private inlaid pool in the center where I could drown my worries and a selection of jeweled collars, makeup, and perfumes laid out on the dresser were mine to use.

But it was void of color. No deep rich red and blue cushions or brightly colored murals as with Anaka's room. Gold was the only other color that broke up the monotony of white. Filled the hieroglyphs of worship on the walls, vases of washing oils stacked in the corners and golden stands on which incense pots burned. Candle light flickered off of them bathing the room in a warm yellow. The only other light was the small hole in the center of the ceiling the same size as my ritual pool where the watchful white moon shone through.

There was a soft rap at the door.