[Five months earlier]

The tests turned out to be more humiliating and traumatic than Mayeen expected.

After a trip to what looked like a minimalistic infirmary where she was stripped naked by a group of no less than three women and checked for scars or other blemishes, she was escorted to a private bathing area.
Mayeen expected to be left alone; instead, a few more joined the three, following her every move. No sooner did the women finish bathing her than the oldest one of the lot approached Mayeen. Without any warning, she parted her legs and pushed two fingers inside her.

A gasp of shock left Mayeen's lips, and tears threatened to spill. No one she had spoken to had told her about what she was being put through.
Holding her tongue that wanted to shower the rough, rude woman with a shower of curses and holding her arms crossed over her chest, the girl fisted her fingers. The pain she experienced as she dug her nails into her palms anchored her.

As soon as the woman probing Mayeen withdrew her fingers, the girl snapped her legs shut and lowered her eyes. She made the blush of anger coloring her cheeks look like that of shame and embarrassment and waited.

The woman in blue stood up straight. Her eyes gave the girl a once over. Then, nodding approvingly, she spoke with authority lining her every syllable. "This was done to examine whether you were owned or touched. Our master can't be expected to do with hand-me-downs in any form, can he?"  the woman asked rhetorically.

Mayeen shook her head.

"You sure are timid. I like that in a woman. Nice and docile is what our harem needs." The elderly woman took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder, "Tight and intact. Pass."

No sooner did the woman leave than a sheer white loose robe that left almost nothing to the imagination was draped over her petite shoulders, and after instructing her to 'Stay here,' the rest of her escorts exited the chamber.

Apprehension of what lay ahead ate at her resolve as she took in her surroundings: the golden cage she had walked into willingly. She felt a thousand pairs of eyes on her. All of them held judgment and disgust. And out of nowhere, an unexpected wave of nausea hit her.

Before she could command herself to hold it in, she threw up. Wide-eyed and shocked at her doing, she scanned the room, checking for witnesses. Relieved that there were none, she left a breath she didn't know she was holding. However, the relief was short-lived as the doors to the bath swung open, and a woman in gray linens stepped inside, and without a word, began to scrub the floor.

Holding the robe tightly around her, Mayeen stepped towards the lady cleaning her vomit. "I can do it. Please, let me."

The woman paused and glanced at Mayeen.

Familiar brown eyes stared back at her. "Let me do it. Did you get any on you?" She asked, sizing her up.
"Bora?" The gold-rimmed eyes widened, "What are you doing here?"

The girl, Bora, was no stranger to Mayeen; she was one of the twelve girls that had entered the outer hall with her merely days ago.

"Repaying you for saving my life. Listen, you and Kanak were the only ones who made it till here. Whatever you do, don't let them get to you. Swallow your pride and your pain."

"Kanak was here?"

"Yes, but from what I have heard, she didn't make it into the harem." Bora resumed scrubbing the floor and continued, "You will be taken to be branded next. That is the last test. Only if you agree will they deem you worthy of serving the master. The mark is a symbol that you belong to him. Remember my words." Then, with one last look at the door, the girl left.

Mayeen had never heard of this practice. The mere thought: to carry a mark on her body that signified that she belonged to Tutuamen disgusted her.

True to her friend's words, Mayeen was escorted to another chamber soon, where a woman was waiting for her. Her long, calloused fingers were wrapped around a long slender, foot-long metal rod with its tip resting inside the flames.

'This must be the brander.' The girl guessed and wondered why all the women she had encountered since entering the palace hid their faces behind veils.

The woman raised her face, and a pair of striking blue eyes caught Mayeen's surprised gold ones.

The woman let go of the metal and gestured for Mayeen to approach her. "Do you know why you are here?"

"To see if I am worthy of our master." The girl replied, eyeing the flames and running her eyes over the metal rod.

"You are not wrong. Come closer. Take off your veil. Let me look at you."

Mayeen nodded and did as told.

"Beautiful. But you shouldn't have done that."

Mayeen's brows rose in query.

"Unless you are in front of our master or in your chamber, don't remove the veil. If you catch someone's eyes, it will make things in harem difficult for you." Instead of giving her answers, the brander's instruction gave Mayeen more to ponder over. Yet, the girl nodded.

"Every person serving Pharaoh Tutuamen becomes his, forever. I have been entrusted with the responsibility to offer you the ultimate prize. His mark on your skin." The blue-eyed woman announced proudly, "However, you can refuse. After all, there are other ways in which you can please our master. Do you understand?"

Mayeen pointed at the metal rod, "I presume that is what you will use to mark me."

"Yes. That is correct. And before you ask, yes, it will hurt." The woman reached for the rod and held its golden tip inches from Mayeen's face. "So, what do you say?"

Mayeen wanted to flee. Her heart was beating like the wedding drums customarily played continuously from the time a woman entered her husband's home for the first time and didn't stop till she was claimed by him.

'Swallow your pride and embrace the pain.' Bora's words rang in her ears.
She had already let go of her pride when she had decided to become the pharaoh's woman. If what stood between her and a place in the harem was pain, she would embrace it. Gladly.

Mayeen smiled at the metal fondly and leaned closer. The heat from its near-molten tip warmed her heart. The gold in the girl's eyes met the gold that was going to give her a souvenir she would carry with her till her last breath.

Mayeen's soul shuddered as she slid her robe off her shoulders and lowered her eyes, praying to the almighty Ra to give her courage and strength to smile in the face of pain and conquer it. Then, glancing at the woman who was there to test her will to serve her greatest enemy, Tutuamen, she spoke calmly, "I would like to be marked. Please, do the needful."

The girl's reply stunned the brander. Never, in all her life, had she come across someone like Mayeen. So sure. So confident. So unafraid.

Among the few women who had managed to make it to the last stage of the selection process, hardly any had chosen to get Tutuamen's mark on their bodies. In the woman's ten years as a brander, she had probably marked no more than eleven women. And none who had accepted that fate had displayed such strength.

The woman cleared her throat, "Since it is your choice to get marked, you need to tell me where you want it."

Mayeen contemplated for a few moments, then chose a spot that the brander wouldn't have expected anyone to choose in a million years.

While the brander did her duty, Mayeen closed her eyes to keep her tears from spilling and bit her lips to keep her screams at bay.

No sooner was the ordeal over than the girl collapsed on the cold marble floor, with her blood turning the pale blue floor scarlet.

***

When Mayeen opened her eyes, she found herself on a mattress as soft as clouds and as smooth as her mother's cheeks. To her right, on a square table, silverware, like she had never laid eyes on, stood glittering as if welcoming her home. The cerulean drapes hugged the large windows, letting just enough light to let one see comfortably filter through.

It dawned on Mayeen that after all her years of planning and plotting, lying and deceiving, suffering humiliation and degradation, she had finally made it to Tutuamen's harem.

On the flip side, though, with the return of her consciousness, the pain lingering close at bay made its presence felt. The throbbing ache drowned all her senses, interrupting her moment of joy; miserable and thirsty, the girl glanced at the silverware, hoping that it would hold something she could quench her thirst with.

With trembling hands, she reached for the jug.

"Empty," Mayeen whispered, disheartened, and left a shallow breath.

As the pain became unbearable, she dug her fingers into the folds of the comforter, wishing it to leech off the pangs of agony coursing through her body.

Glad that she had gone in without realizing how much it would hurt, she grinned through her pain.

"You know, when they told me you were not like the others, I thought they were exaggerating, but I see now that all of them were right." The deep sultry voice made the girl snap her head to her left; she averted her eyes as the golden headgear sitting on top of the man's head caught the bountiful gifts of Ra and reflected them back into her golden orbs, blinding her instantly.

"Easy now, girl. You have been through much." The man added, and moving closer, he slipped his arm behind her back and slowly, gently, helped the injured girl sit up.

Mayeen's grip on the comforter tightened as the warmth from the stranger's arm bled into her naked back, making her realize belatedly that under the covers, she was still as naked as the day she was born.

A moment later, the warmth was gone. However, to Mayeen's dismay, the man remained firmly seated to her left.

'Am I not in the harem? If I am, then what is man doing here!?' She wondered, then, thinking that that couldn't be, she contemplated, 'Perhaps I died while getting marked, or all of this is a dream. It feels too good to be true, anyway.'

"Mayeen, that's your name, they tell me."

'If this is a dream, I might as well make myself comfortable.' The girl decided. Then, "I am thirsty." she said, freeing her left hand from where they had left deep indents on the innocent comforter, and held it out to the source of the voice, "Fetch me some water, will you? My throat feels like I have feasted on nothing but sand for the past few days." She said, trying to steal a peep at the man's face.
However, the shimmering headgear continued making it difficult for Mayeen to see clearly.

Unfavorably, all that man was told about the girl by word of mouth was proving incorrect. He wondered whether getting marked had left her mentally challenged or if she was just acting naive as a way to earn his favor. Nonetheless, being spoken to like that was refreshing.

After all, at the end of the day, the stranger in Mayeen's room could stop it any time he wished. Thus nodding, the man did as commanded by the golden-eyed beauty from Zapobu; pouring her a glass of serbat and wishing her a quick recovery, he left the newest concubine's chamber, promising himself that he would see her soon.

[Chapter word count: 1990;
Word count so far: 17679]