Rayna contemplated demanding a new chariot. As she sat across from Kazue, their bodies swaying gently and hooves clacking in the background, she couldn't help but recount their previous conversation. It seemed as if the ghosts of the boy's cries were scraping against her ears—taunting her.

"Why can't I stay?"

The bustling of the market square grew closer. Rayna ignored the climbing of murmurs; villagers were likely scrambling to steal a peek at her chariot. She could imagine the bravest of the bunch sneaking a touch on the rims behind her guards' backs.

"S-she doesn't even want me there—"

"You're being absurd."

Growing impatient with her own mind, the princess swung the window open in hopes of a distraction. A tender smile was already trained onto her countenance.

"You were groveling in the streets, without a guardian. You're a runaway. Surely she awaits your return."

"I ran away from her—"

"Guardian spirit?"

Rayna didn't visibly jolt but she could've sworn her innards had tied into a knot. "What," she squeezed out behind her smile.

The villagers were absolutely smitten; children and women alike fell to their knees in praise before scurrying towards her carriage like moths to a flame. The guards kept them an acceptable distance away. Kazue was also watching the spectacle unfold, though he hid most of himself from view while fumbling nervously with his sleeves. He was smidgen paler than usual and he scanned the crowd with the vigilance of a paranoid veteran.

"A-are we at the market?" he asked.

Rayna's smile faltered a moment, confusion settling in. "I thought that was quite apparent." Her words didn't carry the signature sting since she had a reputation to uphold. Breaking face now, even the quickest flicker of a frown, could yank the rug from underneath the peasants' feet.

The boy's nose scrunched up. "App...apprent?"

"Apparent."

"A-apparent," he repeated.

"It means obvious or clear," Rayna said. If she had to deal with him, she would see to it that he had decent vocabulary. Her patience was too scant to converse with such peasant language. Without tearing her gaze from the groveling commoners, she motioned her hand in a beckoning manner. "Use the term in a proper sentence. I refuse to be responsible for a simpleton."

A series of unintelligible sounds spilled from Kazue as his gaze strayed up; his features pinched and twisted and smoothed out in intervals, determined to construct the perfect sentence. He seemed to come up with something, though he hesitated to answer. "Um...It's apparent that the people here don't like me."

Again, Rayna's composure persisted. "How apparent?"

"Really apparent." Kazue stole another peak through the window, curiosity seizing him at the sound of a particularly enthusiastic round of cheers. He had never experienced such a positive reaction, at least, not while he was within close quarters.

However, a familiar face turned his lungs into stone and the hollers were reduced to a buzz.

A man, tall and rugged, waved frantically from behind his stand. His voice couldn't stand out from the others, but it might as well have been amplified in Kazue's ears. Before the boy had time to snap out of his reverie and sit back, their eyes locked. Like a switch, the endearment fled from the man and his visage contorted with an ugly rage. He wildly lurched over his stand, half of his fruits and vegetables toppling over and surprising nearby commoners.

"It's the Hajin!" he yelled while pointing at the chariot. "The filthy Hajin! He's in the char—"

Rayna promptly closed the window. She wasn't exactly puzzled by the reaction; she knew of the intolerance that most Egyptians shared for mixed-race offspring. It was practically symbolic of treason to the highest degree. "A particularly lively bunch today," she grumbled.

Her annoyance waned upon turning on Kazue, whose back was practically glued to the seat. His little chest heaved and his eyes shifted about endlessly within their sockets. He seemed so overwhelmed by the anxiety ripping through his body that the princess's blatant staring had no chance of warranting his attention. "O-oh no," he whimpered, "He saw me. H-he still hates me!"

Rayna internally groaned. Not one day could progress without the boy spiraling into panic or nauseating affection. "Be still," she said, "And explain your predicament in an organized manner. You'll get nowhere with all that babbling."

The boy tried to heed her command. After swallowing several times, flares of pain erupting in his chest as a burning hiccup made his insides swell, his breathing eventually slowed. His muscles had yet to relax, though. "Th-the man outside who was yelling. He hates me and calls me H-Hajin and, um..." A shudder slid down his back. "He hurt me when I was trying to ask a lady a-about you. When I was trying to find you."

The enquiry sprung out of Rayna like second nature. "How did he harm you?"

Kazue pried his hand from the seat long enough to point at his right cheek, only to reunite with it immediately after. "M-my face. He pushed me down and told me to leave."

Rayna squinted at the boy, her head tilting ever so slightly. She had some doubts—not a single scar was found on his cheek. If he indeed ran into the irate vendor a few days ago, he would sport a few scabs at the very least and yet, to her confusion, his skin was clear. Regardless of the observation, something raged about in the back of her skull like a rabid predator. Her jaw tensed.

"So be it. Sphinx Nation has no use for needlessly violent oafs." She tuned back in to the muffled cheers; the vendor's screams seemed to be following her chariot like a starved mosquito. "If he continues to behave recklessly, I shall order my guards to dismiss him immediately."

"Dismiss?" Kazue said. He didn't have the slightest clue what dismiss meant but the sudden weight in Rayna's tone and molten malice swirling in her eyes was indicative enough. He gulped. "Y-you're gonna kill him?"

The princess scoffed. "Was that not apparent enough?"

"But..." Kazue's fear was forgotten in exchange for blossoming concern. "I-isn't that too mean? He doesn't have to die. My face doesn't even hurt anymore—"

"Clearly, you're confused about several things," Rayna interrupted. "First of all, my actions have absolutely nothing to do with whatever ill emotion you two share. Sphinx Nation is the ultimate province of perfection. I will not allow such trash to crawl about here."

She leaned forward, closing the distance between them until she could hear his feeble breathing.

"And secondly, if I were you, I'd abandon this silly concept of compassion you have. So far, it has done nothing but inhibit and burden you. Repeat after me." Her features hardened. "Emotions equate to weakness."

The boy's lip trembled. "B-but I—"

"Kazue," she snapped. "Say it. Now."

And just like that, the fight left him. Ice coated his nerves and the anxious energy filtered out of his visage.

"E-emotions equa...equate to weakness."

"Again."

"Emotions equate to weakness."

"Good. Be sure to never forget it.

"Yes mam." Kazue nodded, his posture rigid yet lifeless. Some awareness had fled from his demeanor, as if those very words were eating away at his mind with sluggish ferocity. It wasn't until Rayna granted him breathing room that the boy snapped back to reality. He sagged into the seat and found himself uncontrollably enveloped in thoughts.

Several moments passed before he spoke again. His voice was quiet. Empty. "Okay," he said.

Rayna didn't react. At first, she assumed it to be a slip of the tongue but Kazue's gaze was wholly locked onto her. She cleared her throat. "Okay what?"

"Y-you can kill him."

A beat of hesitance—and not from the boy. Though some wetness began to collect behind his lids, his lips were pressed into a defiant thin line. His sudden change of heart was unprecedented. Rayna almost asked what brought it on, but then remembered she had no reason to care. She should've been pleased—Kazue was finally learning the truths of reality.

"Good. His execution shall be announced soon." The princess's tongue felt heavy and stuffed with cotton. Deceit had never been an issue for her, but this lie feasted on her pride with gusto. She herself couldn't understand what motive she had concocting such an odd promise, especially if she no intention of following through with it now. The shackles returned, yanking at the base of her stomach and chest tyrannically.

Another round of silence hung between them.

"Guardian spirit?" Kazue whispered. His thumbs fiddled again. "Um, I-I thought you had to do something—" With a sharp inhale, he fell speechless under the weight of Rayna's glare. Her warning was as clear and caustic as ever.

"If you have a slither of sense, you'll stop talking. Now," she said. Again, the threat didn't quite carry the steel she wanted, but Kazue was quick to obey. His head snapped down, chin tucking into his sternum, and he shrunk into himself.

Their ride back to the palace passed quietly.

†

The rest of the afternoon was spent in relative peace. Surprisingly, Rayna didn't assign Kazue anymore chores for the day, though he usually finished around late evening. Instead, the boy had resided to napping in her bed; his pile of pillows remained fluffed and annoyingly untouched for quite some time. The princess told herself several times that she would drag him over there soon, but that declaration had been echoing in her mind for two hours now.

She sat at her desk with the sketch of the symbol in her hands. For the sake of Ra, she still couldn't recall such an image. The closest resemblance she mustered was the accursed cross westerners worshiped. Monotheistic...how crude, she thought with an internal scoff. However, she failed to imagine what self-respecting Egyptian would draw inspiration from the cross.

Three knocks at her door.

Rayna hastily stowed away the scroll inside a drawer and colored her features with serenity. "Yes?" she said.

"Your Highness?" The voice belonged to Hanh.

A slither of agitation made the hairs on Rayna's arms bristle; unless it was the investigator delivering good news, she had no interest in any other interruptions. Posture rigid but tone sweet, the princess replied, "Yes, Hanh? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Or annoyance.

"Queen Sekhmet has requested your presence in her private chambers."

That sentence alone coated Rayna's lungs in frost. She unconsciously cradled the gauze on her forearms; she had yet to completely heal nor to inform her mother that she was injured to begin with. She would've forgotten Hanh's presence if the woman hadn't spoken up again.

"Your Highness? Did you hear me?" Hanh asked.

Rayna's grip strengthened. "O-of course, Hanh. I shall see her soon, thank you." She didn't dare breathe until the sound of Hanh's footsteps faded from existence. One could never tell what motivates lurked beneath the Queen's every action nor was she ever predictable. Rayna couldn't fathom what her mother wanted, especially not at this hour.

The princess cast one last look at Kazue; the transaction had no chance of rousing him from sleep and she doubted anything short of an earthquake would. Exhaling slowly, she scraped up as much courage as possible and left.

†

"So, how is the child?" A trail of steam rose from Queen Sekhmet's tea and filled the air with peppermint. The scent was crisp yet warming to the nostrils, and could soothe the muscles of even the weariest of souls.

Rayna was not weary. She was anxious and, above all else, afraid.

The question took a beat longer than usual to register. Once it did, Rayna's gaze snapped down to the cup in her hands. "He is fulfilling his duties as expected of him," she said. Her mind raced—her mother could care less about the child, so the princess had every right to be suspicious.

Sekhmet hummed, low and seemingly disinterested, as she gently swirled the contents of her own cup. She followed the liquid with a practiced grace, as if the motion itself was mesmerizing. Her next words chilled Rayna to the bone.

"Have you been spoiling him?"

"Of course not."

Rayna's chest thumped. Her answer came too quickly. Her tone had wavered, she knew it did, and the fact that she had yet to sip her tea was obvious. The combination of careless mistakes proved to be her downfall.

The queen giggled before setting down her tea. A single finger circled the rim, nails scraping against marble and producing an agonizing screech. It couldn't have been louder than a whisper, but it gradually ate away at the princess's sanity. "Are you lying to me?" Sekhmet asked, though it flowed from her lips like an accusation.

Rayna hesitated. Perhaps her mind was toying with her, but she could've sworn her cup was shaking within her grasp. She had yet to lock eyes with her mother and such a brave act wouldn't occur anytime soon. Something broken colored her tone. "N-no."

A sigh escaped the queen. She reached over the table to rest a delicate hand upon Rayna's cheek, sharp nails digging into the sensitive dip between ear and jaw. She guided—no, forced her daughter to look at her. "You say you're not lying to me, but you just did."

An extensive pause.

"Word within my palace travels quickly." Sekhmet tilted her head. "Especially through the mouths of guards praising their precious princess's kindness. Tell me, does carrying a street rat back to your room suffice as spoiling?"

There was no room nor reason for response. Rayna's innards coiled into itself so tightly that the contents of her stomach threatened the burn her esophagus. Without argument, she had been caught and now she must face the consequences. The princess's lips parted, a useless excuse festering on them, before she admitted defeat and shuddered. Her tea sat on the table, lukewarm and wasted.

"My apologies, mother." A flat tone had never been rockier. Rayna's regret grew futile; once a predator locked onto a long-awaited prey, no breed of distraction nor repentance could stop it. As she dreadfully predicted, Sekhmet tuned out her words and merely gestured to the floor.

"Kneel. Show me your back," she commanded.

The princess felt weak. Helpless, even. Regardless of the jelly filling her system, she obeyed and fell to her knees, sliding her robes off her shoulders. She only shed off enough cloth to expose her back, her bandaged forearms remaining hidden. She dared to glance over her shoulder, trepidation seething and clogging up her chest like hot tar. There was the familiar sight of her mother brandishing a whip; crafted from the thickest of rope and woven together more meticulously than welded steel. It was no wonder that the queen favored it so much for punishment—for punishing Rayna. She forced her vision forward as Sekhmet advanced with a sultry, calm gait.

"I abhor weakness, Rayna," Sekhmet drawled.

The distinct noise of rope dragging through carpet.

"And I despise disobedience even more."

Blinding agony followed the crack of her whip. The pain erupted diagonally across Rayna's back and sent her nerves into a frenzied shock. A scream wreaked havoc in her lungs, but it was angrily shoved down by the knuckle trapped between her teeth.

Another lash to her back, this time running horizontally along her shoulders.

A whimper tried to escape. Again, Rayna choked it back and increased the pressure on her hand. Copper stained her taste buds.

"What have I drilled into you, hm?"

A third lash.

"Over and over again. I always tell you—"

A fourth.

"Emotions."

Fifth and sixth.

"Equate."

Seventh.

Rayna's frame crumbled. She slouched forward, placing her weight onto one hand as the other bled within her mouth. A sole salty trail burned her cheek. The only strength she could draw from was her resilient silence.

"To weakness!"

Nonetheless, it was the eighth lash that shattered her composure. A mixture between a wail and a wheeze ripped from Rayna's throat before it evolved into a series of muffled cries.

The whips amounted to ten. Rayna had counted, of course she did. If not, any steel resting in her reserves would've evaporated and left her a weeping heap. She had thought it was over; Sekhmet had fulfilled her desires, instilled her dominance, and punished the princess for her foolishness.

She was wrong.

A hand buried into her hair and palmed the back of her skull. Her had snapped back to find herself staring into cruelly amused pools of amber. "One last question, my dear daughter," Sekhmet cooed. "Surely, you succeeded in eliminating our little problem...correct?"

Rayna's heart stopped beating.

Yes, mother—that was what she desperately wanted to say. It could've been easy, so achingly simple as uttering two words, but the panic began to cloud her senses. Emotions were rearing their ugly heads at the absolute inopportune moment. The alarm doubled as the queen clicked her tongue, clearly disappointed.

"Unbelievable." Sekhmet pushed Rayna's head away, agitating the gashes on her back, and reassumed her previous position. "I thought I raised you better than this."

Rayna forgot to count this time, but it surely must've been more than ten lashes. Reality had lost its handling on her senses ages ago, or seconds ago; whichever it was, her brain currently struggled to comprehend either. She was eventually reduced to a ball, her head pressed to the floor as she cradled the back of her neck. Violent, voiceless sobs rattled her body, causing bolts of pain to race along her skin with every move.

A cold, gelatinous sting slid about her wounds. This elicited another whimper out of her, though it waned as a soothing aftereffect settled in.

"This balm should heal you in due time," Sekhmet said, her breath tickling the cusp of Rayna's ear. "Regain your composure, return to your chambers, and remember," A smile twisted her lips, "A princess should always practice good posture."

"Y-yes...mother," Rayna whispered.