A Pharaoh and Her Beloved Queen - Chapter 1

An unsteady swaying sensation came from beneath her, and a lingering ache throbbed at the side of her neck. Ye Zhiqing looked around; she was on a boat.

With a slight movement, the crisp clinking of metal came from the foot of the bed. Lifting the gauze quilt—which was as thin as a cicada’s wing—Ye Zhiqing froze for a moment. Was this the Pharaoh’s twisted sense of humor?

She had been changed into a white robe that was nearly transparent, covering nothing. The two hints of pink on her chest were partially visible with her movements. Her right ankle was locked by a small, exquisite golden chain.

The chain trailed across the floor, extending out past the ethereal, misty bed curtains.

At that moment, outside the curtains, Edith sipped a glass of clear date palm wine, watching the woman on the bed with great interest. This woman was intriguing.

There was none of the panic she had expected; after only a moment of shock, the woman had quickly regained her composure.

The chain was crafted of pure gold by the most outstanding artisans in Egypt. It wasn’t heavy, and its intricate, ancient engravings displayed its craftsmanship.

The date palm wine slid down from Edith’s lips to her honey-colored neck and disappeared into her collar. An elegant cobra crown was nestled in her smooth black hair, with rhomboid red chalcedony inlaid as the cobra’s eyes.

As twilight deepened, the eerie red light under the warm yellow lamps flickered like ghosts through the sleeping quarters, sending a chill down one’s spine.

Ye Zhiqing wrapped the gauze-thin quilt around herself, barely covering what needed to be covered. Following the winding path of the chain, she got out of bed and pulled aside the floating curtains.

Her gaze hardened as she met Edith’s half-smiling expression and eyes full of predatory intent.

The other end of the chain was attached to the chair Edith sat upon—an ebony seat inlaid with various gemstones. It reflected a magnificent light onto the chain, creating a hazy atmosphere that made Edith’s face seem somewhat surreal.

The mysterious golden mask had been removed. Her features were not entirely clear in the shimmering light, but what made Ye Zhiqing freeze were those pale amber eyes that betrayed neither joy nor anger.

The specks of light dancing in those eyes were aggressively beautiful—a vast, all-encompassing beauty, as if the stars of the universe had been drawn into them. They were indifferent to the extreme, allowing for no sorrow or joy.

Ye Zhiqing stopped her pace, standing an arm’s length away and looking down at Edith. With the light at her back, a thin, crescent-shaped shadow fell across the side of her face, making her expression hard to read.

A silent confrontation…

Suddenly, a smile blossomed on Edith’s lips, growing more intense. The sharp ends of her brows twitched upward. She shifted her gaze, and her indifferent voice sounded like sunlight piercing through layers of clouds.

“The other prisoners from this campaign are currently on their way to Mastaba.” The implication was clear: the Punt royalty, the artisans, the civilians, and even the temple priests—none were exempt.

Majestic yet seductive, the calm atop the undercurrents was easily torn away.

Mastaba, located on the west bank of the upper Nile, was a city dedicated to quarrying stone or building tombs for the Egyptian royalty. It was known as the City of Slaves, or the City Forgotten by God. For foreign slaves there, the only fate was to meet Anubis, the god of the underworld.

From the capital of Punt to Mastaba, it took at most three days by boat.

Ye Zhiqing stood her ground, her expression inscrutable and her eyes calm, remaining unmoved.

Seeing this, Edith swirled the wine in her hand and gave a light chuckle. “Queen Fu Jia, it is time for you to fulfill your promise. Tell me, where are the riches and mineral deposits of Punt?”

Egypt had been at war for years. The iron cavalry that brought victory and glory amidst the smoke required massive financial support. After ten years of fighting, Egypt now desperately needed gold, jewelry, and grain to alleviate the current predicament on the Sonjung Peninsula.

Over the past decade, countries large and small surrounding Punt had fallen to Egypt’s iron hooves; only Punt remained in stubborn resistance. Although Punt was much smaller than Egypt, its rich mineral deposits and fertile land brought it endless grain and wealth.

To have held out against Egypt for so many years… Edith lowered her eyelashes slightly, her sharp gaze sweeping over Ye Zhiqing. She looked at the woman thoughtfully. The unprecedentedly cunning tactics on the battlefield, the sophisticated irrigation systems, weapons sharper than the Royal Sword… every bit of it forced her to marvel.

All of these had appeared only after the woman before her ascended the throne. Edith nonchalantly swirled her wine glass with a faint smile; Queen Fu Jia was surely more precious than the wealth of Punt itself.

“Your Majesty Edith, you are violating the agreement between us. The civilians and artisans have nothing to do with this war.”

Like a gentle night breeze brushing the surface of the Nile, her tone was soft but carried an inescapable, bone-chilling coldness.

“Queen Fu Jia, you are in no position to negotiate with me now.” Edith’s amber eyes overflowed with irony, and her raised pinky finger fully displayed her contempt.

The wise and noble Queen Fu Jia was now nothing more than a prisoner of war, a captive with no dignity to speak of.

In the final battle between Egypt and Punt, Queen Fu Jia had sent a letter of surrender to Edith. She was willing to offer the modified irrigation systems, the smelting methods for iron and copper… and of course, the minerals and wealth Edith desired as bargaining chips. She surrendered without a fight in exchange for the exoneration of her artisans and civilians.

To avoid unnecessary losses, Edith had readily agreed. However, whether or not she followed the terms of the agreement depended entirely on her own will.

In war, Edith only saw victory and defeat, glory and shame, life and death. A ridiculous agreement was as insignificant as a grain of sand.

Ye Zhiqing took in Edith’s arrogant contempt, and a mocking sneer escaped her lips. “Your Majesty Edith, if you are willing to have the soldiers fighting for you on the Sonjung Peninsula buried with us, it would be my honor.”

Satisfied by the faint flicker of surprise in Edith’s eyes, Ye Zhiqing paused before continuing in a calm, unhurried tone. “The Hittites, the only military empire capable of contending with you, are currently increasing their troops on the Mediterranean coast. You understand perfectly what it would mean to lose Punt’s grain and wealth.”

If forced to choose between the Sonjung Peninsula and the Mediterranean, Egypt could only—and would only—choose to abandon the peninsula.

The irony on her face gradually faded. Edith stood up, dignified and elegant. She walked toward Fu Jia with a composed gait, reached out two fingers to pinch Ye Zhiqing’s well-curved chin, and forced it upward.

A sharp, undeniable pain bloomed in her chin. Fu Jia frowned and, following the force, looked up at Edith with considerable displeasure.

The worst outcome of this contest would be a mutual defeat. This was precisely the result neither of them wanted to see, and it was also the only chip Ye Zhiqing held in her hand.

Suddenly, a massive tug came from the chain locked on her ankle. Unprepared, Ye Zhiqing fell onto the carpet. The light gauze covering her body was pulled aside, revealing a glimpse of lustrous white skin.

Edith knelt beside Ye Zhiqing, her palm clamping onto the woman’s jaw with brutal savagery.

“Mm.”

The air was gradually stripped from her lungs, and her breathing suddenly became labored.

The grip was so forceful that deep finger marks appeared on Ye Zhiqing’s neck, turning from white to red to purple, spreading like ink.

With an ill-timed elegance, Edith narrowed her eyes, licked the wine stains from the corner of her mouth, and held the remaining half-glass of wine to Ye Zhiqing’s lips. “Drink it, and I might consider whether to fulfill our agreement.”

It was more like the wine was being poured directly down her throat. The mucous membranes of her throat were constantly irritated by the spicy wine, and the backflow into her nasal cavity was suffocating.

“Cough, cough…” The sound of coughing echoed through the chamber.

The fragrant, transparent liquid slid down Ye Zhiqing’s long, fair neck and disappeared into her collar. The nearly transparent robe clung to her chest, adding an air of temptation.

Edith’s slender hand slid from Ye Zhiqing’s jaw down her neck to her chest, then stopped. This woman was undoubtedly beautiful.

Noble, self-restrained, and wise—like a high-and-mighty deity, an inviolable, ascetic beauty.

A bewitching beauty that easily tempted one toward sin.

An unbearable itch seemed to stir in Edith’s throat; something seemed to have broken free from her self-control.

It was because of this entirely foreign tingling sensation gnawing at her limbs.

A tremor and palpitation that had been silent deep in her heart for a long time suddenly surged, like a predator lurking in the dark, eroding everything from her tailbone to the back of her neck.

A slight feeling of disgust followed; Edith undoubtedly hated this state of losing control. One could even call it fear—fear that an unpredictable emotion would lead her into some kind of inescapable prison.

Frowning, she looked down at the Queen of Punt, whose eyes were tinged with a flush of red. Fu Jia panted weakly, her graceful body slumped softly on the fine cashmere carpet, looking dazed from the choking wine.

Edith’s cool fingertips wandered over the burning skin, the clear sensation moving from the chest back to the delicate neck, rubbing back and forth, enjoying the pleasure of the person beneath her trembling in her hands.

Suddenly, she reached out and gripped that fragile, long, beautiful neck, exerting sudden force.

If something cannot be controlled, then destroy the source that triggered it.

Her eyes turned a thick, limitless black, with a twisted desire raging within.

The quiet cabin was instantly covered by a surging killing intent. Fu Jia tilted her head back with difficulty, attempting to loosen the grip on her throat, but it was all in vain.

“Majesty… Edith…”

A hot tear fell onto the back of her hand. Edith suddenly snapped back to her senses, refocused her hollow gaze on Fu Jia’s face, and slowly loosened her hand.

“Queen Fu Jia, you are my prisoner of war now.” Her tone returned to its usual indifference. A prisoner of war can only obey unconditionally to survive. Edith stated Ye Zhiqing’s current plight expressionlessly, the violent aura surrounding her vanishing instantly, as if nothing had ever happened.