A Pharaoh and Her Beloved Queen - Chapter 10

The sparse, clear lamplight flickered wordlessly in the tranquil inner courtyard. A slow night breeze, carrying the cool luster of the moon, crept silently up the steps, fluttering the thin, soft curtains in the room; a corner embroidered with golden patterns swayed gently with the wind before vanishing into the shadows of the desk’s edge.

“Knock, knock—”

Edith leaned against a soft cushion. Her focused gaze on the papyrus documents did not waver for a second despite the movement outside the door; her profile was steady and quiet, betraying no emotion.

Ye Zhiqing’s step faltered slightly as she carried the medicine. A flicker of moonlight-white flame seemed to dance in her pupils, now bright, now dim. The candlelight cast a shadow at her feet, tinting the floor with layers of enchanting, pale golden hues.

Her rising emotions lasted but a moment before dissolving into the boundless night.

Ye Zhiqing approached slowly, her cool voice infused with a trace of gentleness. “Your Majesty Edith, it is time to change the dressing.”

“Mm,” Edith let out a soft hum, her voice deep and hoarse, sounding exhausted.

Ye Zhiqing drew closer with light steps. Edith wore a short robe in an asymmetrical, off-the-shoulder style. Once the shoulder buckle and gauze were undone, the gruesome wound was revealed.

Piercing through the shoulder blade from front to back, the wound remained terrifyingly distorted even after half a month. The dark red fluid had to be squeezed out before applying new medicine and wrapping it in fresh gauze.

Ye Zhiqing’s soft hair inadvertently brushed against Edith’s ear and fell across her neck. Whether from the pain of the wound or the tingling sensation on her skin, Edith’s eyelids lifted, and her lashes trembled unconsciously.

The quiet, soft night gradually took on a subtle, indescribable atmosphere due to Ye Zhiqing’s presence.

Edith set down the documents and looked at Ye Zhiqing, who was perspiring from the effort of changing the dressing. A flash of playfulness crossed her eyes. “Is changing my dressing really that tiring?”

Ye Zhiqing stood straight, leaning back slightly, and gazed at Edith without a word. Suddenly, she bent down and pulled all the documents from the couch, including the one in Edith’s hand. “Your Majesty, you need to rest.”

Clearly not expecting such a bold move, Edith froze for a moment, then broke into a light laugh. “Are you worried about me?”

Neither admitting nor denying it, Ye Zhiqing answered tangentially, “After the Battle of Kadesh, both Egypt and the Hittites suffered heavy losses. At least for now, I am not the one who should be worried.”

With a faint, mocking smile, the implication in Ye Zhiqing’s words was self-evident: Egypt’s vitality was greatly damaged after this battle. Once the conflict on the Sonjung Peninsula concluded, Egypt would lack the strength to sustain further wars of expansion and would be forced to declare a ceasefire to recover.

“But I still won,” Edith said softly, her unrestrained smile saturated with an overbearing arrogance unique to the Queen of Egypt.

“The Hittite forces were several times larger than I anticipated, but they also did not expect me to have you.” As her voice fell, a searching, naked gaze landed on Ye Zhiqing, like a predator’s claws hovering over her fragile neck, ready to snuff out her life at any moment.

Everyone wanted to know the connection between that massive fire and the beautiful woman standing beneath it.

Edith was no exception. For the ruler of an empire, she would never tolerate the presence of any person or thing beyond her control—even if, in some sense, Ye Zhiqing had saved her and rescued a battle that was on the brink of collapse.

But this only made her more wary. Upon the throne where thousands looked up in reverence, there was also a loneliness that no one could perceive.

Suspicion, defensiveness… from the moment she took that seat, these followed her like maggots in bone, like a shadow following a form.

She could not, and would not, trust anyone except herself.

If she could not conquer, then she would destroy. A thick aura of violence suddenly arrived, like fine threads quietly creeping up Ye Zhiqing’s body, slowly winding and tightening. A faint sensation of suffocation radiated from her lungs.

Ye Zhiqing steadied her mind. A slight shimmer of moisture rose in her eyes—pure black, clear and clean. She gazed quietly at Edith, remaining silent for a long while.

“My concubine, you should know the consequences of silence. No one is willing to keep a threat by their side,” Edith said, glancing sideways at Ye Zhiqing with obvious impatience, the threat in her voice clear.

The silent night wind wandered along the edge of the window, circling as if refusing to enter. The cold moonlight spilled in along the distinct marble patterns. The candlelight flickered, and the air in the room grew stifling.

Yet Ye Zhiqing’s limbs gradually turned ice-cold, as if soaked in snow-water. The gentleness in her eyes was covered by a boundless darkness. After considering her words for a moment, she used the quickest and calmest tone possible to explain the scientific cause of the rain to Edith.

A long silence followed…

Fatigue began to tint the corners of Edith’s eyes. Here, the flourishing of plants, the flood seasons of rivers, and even birth, old age, sickness, and death were all attributed to the grace of the gods. Ye Zhiqing was not sure if Edith could truly comprehend what she had said.

Edith was sometimes like a blood-drinking beast, easily making one let down their guard while feigning sleep, only to crush their fragile throat in an instant without a sound.

Uncontrollably, a thin layer of cold sweat seeped from Ye Zhiqing’s delicate skin.

Deliberating, wary, and murderous gazes swept nakedly back and forth across Ye Zhiqing before finally settling into a dead silence, showing not another ripple.

The thick aura of violence quickly vanished into the air, the peace returning as if nothing had ever happened.

Ye Zhiqing recalled that Edith had been like this before—irascible and unpredictable. When she suddenly turned hostile, it was difficult to withstand.

She let out a silent sigh of relief and said expressionlessly, “Since Your Majesty is willing to continue our transaction, then Zhiqing shall withdraw.”

Their tacit agreement: Edith guaranteed Ye Zhiqing’s safety within Egypt, while everything belonging to Ye Zhiqing—from body to soul—belonged to the Queen of Egypt.

What Edith did not know was that Ye Zhiqing was willing to stay in Egypt to find the golden scepter that had brought her to this world, searching for a chance to return to the 21st century.

Just as she turned to leave, a hoarse, majestic voice came from behind. “Stop.”

Her figure froze. Ye Zhiqing raised her eyebrows slightly and turned back to Edith with confusion.

In an arrogant and lazy posture, Edith said as a matter of course, “The wound has opened.”

With a glimmer in her eyes, Ye Zhiqing approached and began to treat the wound once more.

Her slightly warm fingertips brushed over the cool, tight honey-colored skin, sparking a dense, tingling sensation.

Edith turned her head. Ye Zhiqing’s thick, curled lashes fluttered gently, and her pure black eyes seemed to hold the condensed moonlight, shining brightly. Her expression was serious and focused, making her utterly captivating.

Amber eyes surged with a greedy desire for Ye Zhiqing, which stood exposed under the dim candlelight, yet remained unseen by anyone else.

In the outer court, the shadows of the branches were sparse, and the chill grew.

Ye Zhiqing bandaged the wound carefully, confirming it would not open again. She packed her things and prepared to leave. “Your Majesty Edith, you may rest now.”

She straightened up, but before she could take two steps, Edith reached out and pulled her back, pinning her firmly with one hand.

In the blink of an eye, the bed curtains swayed. By the time Ye Zhiqing regained her senses, she was already lying on the inner side of the bed—a method so forceful it left no room for refusal.

Ye Zhiqing: “…”

A flash of frustration crossed her face. If Lamassu hadn’t told her that Edith had been seriously injured yet insisted on going back to find her against all advice—causing the wound to worsen—and refused to let other maids near her, Ye Zhiqing certainly wouldn’t have taken on the job of changing the dressing for this unpredictable tyrant.

Turning her head, she saw Edith had already closed her eyes. Her features were relaxed; the lines of her profile had lost their hard texture, infused with traces of softness under the warm yellow firelight. She was clearly in a posture for sleep.

Ye Zhiqing froze, watching Edith for a long time without moving. The arm across her waist was firm and powerful. The two were pressed tightly together, and the warm heat seeping through her thin robe made her breathing slightly heavier.

Edith’s thick lashes cast a crescent-shaped shadow under the flickering candlelight, swaying unsteadily, yet they still could not hide the dark circles beneath her eyes.

Ye Zhiqing gathered her thoughts, suddenly realizing that this rumored cruel and tyrannical Queen of Egypt possessed a focus and obstinacy toward state affairs that was hard for ordinary people to imagine.

Half a month ago, she had been rescued from the desert by Edith. Even after resting leisurely for half a month, she wasn’t fully healed. Edith’s injuries were far more severe, yet from their few interactions, it seemed this Queen had not rested since she woke up and had paid no mind to the wound on her shoulder blade.

Based on the news she heard from Lamassu over the past few days, her previous guess was mostly correct: Egypt and the Hittites had both suffered in the Battle of Kadesh, and neither side had gained an advantage.

But from another perspective, Edith had won. The Hittites had deployed several times more troops this time, yet they fell into Edith’s trap, suffering heavy losses for little gain.

Major historical events were slowly moving forward according to the established trajectory—except for the fact that Edith did not die at Kadesh, everything fit perfectly.

A bold guess suddenly popped into Ye Zhiqing’s head, her black eyes flashing with a faint spark of excitement. If Edith survived this time, did it mean that certain specific events could be changed? As long as the general trajectory of history remained unchanged, perhaps these minor deviations could be ignored.

A few rustling sounds disturbed the dull night stretching toward the horizon. The sound of breathing beside her ear grew steady and long, and the force pinning her waist seemed to lessen. Ye Zhiqing tentatively tried to sit up.

Just as her elbow propped against the side of the bed, before she could move further, Edith’s hoarse, deep voice came from the outside: “Don’t move.” It was saturated with a heavy sense of weariness and exhaustion, as well as an imperceptible hint of a threat.

Ye Zhiqing felt a bit dazed. It was as if after staying in the darkness alone for so long, another person had suddenly forced their way in, leaving an indelible brand in a very short amount of time.

Her deep pupils were faint and bewildered. A myriad of complex emotions, intricately intertwined, left Ye Zhiqing momentarily at a loss.

After hesitating for a long time, Ye Zhiqing finally gave a helpless, light sigh. Avoiding Edith’s wound, she slowly lay back down and closed her eyes tight, attempting to shut out all external things that might influence her emotions.