A Pharaoh and Her Beloved Queen - Chapter 20

The flickering firelight illuminated the palace paths, while the ink-thick night quietly slipped into the most hidden corners of the royal residence.

As Grand Vizier Gid and High Priest Karnak exited the palace gates, they found General Situ and General Heshi waiting outside.

With a mutual nod of acknowledgment, the group split up as if by unspoken agreement.

Once Vizier Gid and General Situ were at a distance, Heshi inclined her head toward High Priest Karnak. “Father.”

There was no warmth typical of a father and daughter meeting after five years; instead, the air was thick with a heavy sense of estrangement.

Five years ago, after the death of Heshi’s mother—the High Priestess Rhaitia—from a sudden, severe illness, Heshi had left Thebes. She hadn’t returned once during those five years. Had Edith not forcefully demanded her return, Heshi thought she would have chosen to stay at the Mediterranean for the rest of her life.

Facing Heshi’s cold and distant attitude, a dark glint flickered in Karnak’s eyes. His reaction was equally cold as he paced slowly toward their estate.

Heshi handed the reins to a guard behind her, waved him away, and followed alone.

The dull sound of footsteps was particularly clear in the empty night, spreading outward through the cracks of the blue stone slabs beneath their feet.

“The Hittite diplomatic mission will arrive in Thebes in five days. Princess Manefertiti is coming as well. You will welcome them personally; I will propose to Her Majesty that you be put in charge of receiving them.”

Heshi’s hand clenched at her side, her fingertips digging into her palm until it stung. Her face was frozen in a mask of coldness as she mocked him without hesitation. “High Priest Karnak, you still haven’t given up. You should know the consequences of betraying Her Majesty.”

Stopping in his tracks, Karnak sneered. “Betrayal? The Karnak family is forever loyal to the bloodline of the Sun God. It is the will of the gods that Prince Inanhote ascends the Egyptian throne.”

“The blood of the gods? High Priest Karnak, have ten years not been enough for you to see who is truly fit for that seat? Do you really believe a mediocre creature with nothing but ambition and no talent can sit securely on that throne?”

Her voice rose sharply. The fact that her father chose to betray Her Majesty Edith had been gnawing at her for five years; it could easily make her lose control.

Slap— A crisp sound echoed through the empty street. Karnak’s hypocritical face looked distorted and manic in the dim light. “Heshi, shut up. Prince Inanhote is not someone you can gossip about. You only need to know that only by pushing Prince Inanhote onto that throne can the Karnak family return to the peak of power in Thebes.”

Specks of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth, and a bright red handprint quickly swelled on Heshi’s right cheek. She swallowed the blood in her mouth, her face unchanged, her voice even colder than before. “Ultimately, you are just satisfying your own selfish desires. There is no need for high-sounding excuses. Do you truly believe you can win against Her Majesty Edith? You are merely pulling the entire family down to be buried with you.”

“Hmph,” Karnak snorted. “That is not for you to worry about. You only need to fulfill my orders. Princess Manefertiti specifically mentioned you in her letter. You know what to do in five days… otherwise, you know the consequences.”

He glanced at Heshi with loathing. “Remember to apply medicine. Do not let Her Majesty Edith notice anything unusual tomorrow.” With that, Karnak quickened his pace, leaving Heshi far behind. If she weren’t still somewhat useful, he wouldn’t have wasted so many words on that “disgusting thing.”

Heshi stood still for a long time. Her eyes were clouded by a surging bitterness, and every part of her body trembled at the news she had just heard. Manefertiti had specifically mentioned her. Mentioned her.

With a low growl, Heshi punched the wall beside her. Dark red blood quickly seeped from the cracks. How long had it been? Only sharp pain could temporarily block out the bone-eroding torment in her heart.

But she knew very well: she couldn’t. She couldn’t keep making mistake after mistake.

Between her and Manefertiti, the beginning five years ago was an error from the start—there was never a possibility.

Heshi slowly turned and walked in the opposite direction. Fortunately, she had her own estate now and didn’t have to return to that filthy place.

Her steps were faltering, her entire being radiating a thick aura of sorrow, with none of the high spirits she had possessed at the Mediterranean border.

Ye Zhiqing slept until the moon hung high in the treetops. Having slept for so long, her head was still a bit groggy when she woke up.

With nothing to do, she ate a little to line her stomach. Unable to guess when Edith would arrive, she decided to take a few maids for a stroll outside the hall.

Only after walking out did she realize that this particular area contained only two palaces: the Palace of Ra and the Hall of Khonsu.

The Hall of Khonsu was where she was currently staying, while the Palace of Ra was adjacent to it. Ye Zhiqing pointed toward the blurred silhouette in the darkness. “Lamassu, is that the Palace of Ra over there?”

“Yes, Miss. The Palace of Ra is Her Majesty Edith’s palace. You are staying in the Hall of Khonsu.” Seeing Ye Zhiqing’s interest, Lamassu continued to explain, “Ra is the Sun God of Egypt, and Khonsu is the Moon God.”

Palaces named after the Sun and Moon gods weren’t strange given Egyptian customs. Ancient Egyptians had their own creation myths; they believed the world was originally chaos, without beginning or end, and the alternating brilliance of the sun and moon nourished all things in Egypt.

Ye Zhiqing lowered her eyes in thought, failing to notice the teasing smile on Lamassu’s face. Sun and Moon—Yin and Yang—from another perspective, it clearly represented a specific type of intimate relationship.

Gazing at the ancient inscriptions carved on the stone slabs at her feet, Ye Zhiqing grew lost in thought. Khonsu was the first-generation Moon God of Ancient Egypt, which didn’t quite match the timeline of the Battle of Kadesh. Either her estimation of the current dynasty was wrong, or this alternate world contained inherent deviations.

The night deepened, and the chill in the evening wind made Ye Zhiqing shiver unconsciously. It was late, yet there was still no sign of Edith.

Ye Zhiqing belatedly thought about the sleeping arrangements for the night. “Lamassu, does Her Majesty sleep in the Hall of Khonsu at night? Or the Palace of Ra?”

The question was blunt and clear. Just as Lamassu was about to answer, she caught sight of a figure appearing behind them. She bowed and, following Edith’s hand gesture, quietly led the other maids away.

Ye Zhiqing didn’t sense anything unusual. Getting no answer from Lamassu even as she walked to the lakeside, she turned around in confusion. “Lamassu?”

At the same moment, a cloak carrying body heat fell onto Ye Zhiqing’s shoulders. She looked up, and Edith’s eyes, filled with a faint smile, met hers. The depths of her eyes seemed to hold the warmth of the sun; with just a glance, Ye Zhiqing felt enveloped in a melting heat.

Edith unhurriedly tied the cloak’s drawstring, her cool fingertips brushing against the side of Ye Zhiqing’s neck. “I will stay wherever you want me to stay.”

The casual tone and the focused, tender gaze clashed violently in the air, creating a sharp hum that exploded in Ye Zhiqing’s mind, leaving it blank.

The tenderness of the Egyptian Queen was indeed irresistible. The smile on Ye Zhiqing’s lips grew wider, and her deep black eyes surged with an unfathomable sharpness. “Your Majesty Edith, do you remember our trade? My bargaining chip is the resolution of the dispute between Egypt and the Hittites over the mineral and port resources in Nusya.”

The light in the amber eyes flickered imperceptibly. Edith pulled the cloak tighter around her. “I remember.”

“Majesty, I would like you to add a bargaining chip now. May I?”

Edith’s brow arched, her expression unchanged. “Fine.” She gazed quietly at Ye Zhiqing; she had never seen her smile as wantonly as she did tonight. The warmth in Edith’s eyes gradually condensed into an undisguised passion, sweeping over the water lilies, the stone steps, the stray hairs, and everything surrounding Ye Zhiqing.

The kaleidoscopic light and shadow grew blurred, and strands of hot breath wound into the thick night.

Ye Zhiqing walked slowly toward Edith. Her slender, pale fingertips brushed Edith’s collarbone, then slowly moved upward, finally stopping on her shoulder.

Her entire upper body seemed pressed tightly against Edith. Her red lips parted slightly, brushing past Edith’s ear as if by accident. Her warm breath blew against the skin behind the ear, triggering a layer of fine goosebumps.

“Does Your Majesty see that white water lily? I want it. I want Your Majesty to pick it personally.” Her cool face was tinted with a tipsy charm, her posture soul-stirringly alluring—a resolute and clear beauty.

Edith looked down, her eyes swirling with shadows that grew deeper, gathering into bright spots of light that scattered a scorching temperature.

Edith clearly felt that a long-silent, dark corner of her heart was being pushed open, letting in strands of bright light. The heart beneath her left ribs was still beating steadily, but the tremor hidden in her warm blood had already traveled through her entire body.

Ye Zhiqing remained in that tipsy, seductive pose. They were very close, their eyes locked, so close that Edith could see her trembling lashes and the seriousness and persistence in her gaze.

An absurd, even ridiculous request—yet it was no joke. The smile on Edith’s face did not fade, though her breathing slowed.

She cast her gaze toward the lake. A single pure white water lily stood out among the clusters of dark blue lilies. It was not far from the shore, but not close either.

Suddenly, a moist sensation came from her shoulder. Ye Zhiqing’s damp fingertips were tracing circles on her shoulder. Edith suddenly lowered her head, their foreheads touching. A low, husky voice carrying strands of seductive allure sounded even more bewitching in the dark: “Since Zhiqing wants it, I shall go and pick it for you.”

Edith took a small step back, holding Ye Zhiqing loosely until she stood steady. Then, she walked toward the lakeshore with steady steps.

Splash— A clear sound of falling water reached her ears. In an instant, Ye Zhiqing shed all her seductive poses, returning to her cool, self-restrained self. She walked unhurriedly toward the shore, her eyes closely following the figure swimming in the water.

The temperature difference between day and night in Egypt was large. Entering the water at this hour meant the lake was freezing; no matter how good Edith’s constitution was, it wouldn’t be pleasant.

Unexpectedly, after a few unusual ripples, Ye Zhiqing’s calm expression changed abruptly. She saw layers of ripples rising on the dark lake surface, but the swimming figure was nowhere to be found.

“Your Majesty Edith! Majesty!” After calming down, Ye Zhiqing’s first reaction was that this was a prank of Edith’s.

But as time stretched on, Ye Zhiqing’s expression turned grim. Thinking of the wound on Edith’s shoulder, panic grew like thorns in the dark, unexpectedly piercing her delicate skin.

The maids had all withdrawn; she was alone.

Never had Ye Zhiqing hated her inability to swim more than at this moment. She could only pray Edith was joking. The established trajectory of history always felt like a sword hanging over her heart—she was always on edge, worried about when it would fall.

“Your Majesty…” Her voice trembled slightly. As more time passed, her calls grew softer, a dazed murmur: “If there truly are gods, they would never play such a prank on her—on Edith. It is far too absurd.”

Just as Ye Zhiqing steadied herself to enter the water, the familiar figure suddenly burst forth, appearing before her eyes without warning.

Glistening water droplets slid down her cheeks, and her drenched long hair hung behind her. Her thin long robe clung to her exquisite curves, partially hidden in the deep lake water. Her left hand held the white water lily. The droplets on it seemed to tremble; she possessed a cold elegance that surpassed even Ye Zhiqing’s.

“The water lily you wanted.” Seeing Ye Zhiqing dazed and staring at her blankly, a glint of a mischievous smile flashed in Edith’s eyes. She held the lily further toward her.

Snapping back to her senses, Ye Zhiqing took the lily, frantically pulled Edith up, untied her own cloak, and draped it over her. Having done all this, she hurriedly tried to pull Edith back to the hall.

She regretted it—regretted why she had made such an absurd and reckless test on a whim tonight.

Suddenly, she was pulled back by the person behind her, falling into a wet, cold embrace.

Edith’s limbs were ice-cold; after staying in the water so long, her whole body was stiff. She was unwilling to let go of the person in her arms who radiated a melting warmth. “Don’t move. Let me hold you for a while.”

Ye Zhiqing stopped struggling. The breath touching her skin felt cold.

The violent thumping of her heart made the ribs beneath her left chest ache. Ye Zhiqing closed her eyes, trying to soothe her slightly disordered breathing.

The warmth continued to pass through their touching skin. Edith moved her slightly warmed body, turning Ye Zhiqing around to face her.

Edith’s relaxed smile suddenly froze. Ye Zhiqing’s black eyes were filled with deep concern and shimmering moisture. Her cool, self-restrained elegance was gone; even though her expression had returned to calm now, one could still taste the panic in the subtle clues.

To Edith, it was just a prank played on a whim—a revenge for Ye Zhiqing’s rude request—but she hadn’t expected Ye Zhiqing to have such a violent reaction.

Like a soft, warm breeze, she had once again easily touched the most secret, dark corner of Edith’s heart that no one had ever reached.

Opening her arms to pull the woman tight, Edith’s pupils darkened. The palpitation she had been restraining in her heart was like a beast that had escaped its cage, desperately wanting to swallow the fragrant softness in her arms bit by bit.

She tentatively pressed a kiss onto Ye Zhiqing’s forehead. A small struggle was quickly suppressed by Edith.

Her moist tongue-tip swept from the brow to the eyelashes, the bridge of the nose, and the cheeks, moving down inch by inch, sucking away the slightly salty tears. Her right hand moved to Ye Zhiqing’s back, pressing her hard into her chest until there was no gap between them.

“Mm…” An unconscious murmur turned the already ambiguous atmosphere even hotter. Their breathing grew heavy; everything seemed to be heading in an uncontrollable direction.

Ye Zhiqing went limp in Edith’s arms, unable to find any strength. Her thoughts had swung so wildly they were a mess, and she unintentionally allowed Edith to do as she pleased.

“Ye Zhiqing, stay by my side. Willingly, and never betray me,” Edith sang, like a chant drifting on the border between heaven and hell—devoutness mixed with strands of enduring, fallen enchantment.

A cool touch wandered over her warm skin. Ye Zhiqing’s remaining logic forced her to speak. “Your Majesty Edith… stop.”

Her tone, faintly laced with a sob, sounded more like a coy complaint, yet it successfully made Edith stop. A flash of unbearable struggle crossed her deep eyes. She brushed Ye Zhiqing’s disheveled hair behind her ear and wiped the sweat from her temples before slowly letting go.

The night wind wandered through the gap between them. Clarity returned to both their eyes, and the ambiguous atmosphere vanished rapidly.

There was still a lingering flush on Ye Zhiqing’s face. She turned her gaze away guiltily. Faint creases were already visible on the white water lily petals.

A long silence followed. Seeing Ye Zhiqing staring at the lily without speaking, a teasing smile touched Edith’s features. she took a proactive step forward. “I will go and pluck another one for you.”

Seeing Ye Zhiqing still not reacting, she turned to walk toward the lake, and as hoped, her sleeve was caught.

“Don’t go,” the usually cool voice sounded a bit hoarse, rippling silently in the empty night.

Their eyes met again. After a brief silence, Edith shook her head helplessly. “Let’s go back. Any longer and you’ll catch a cold.”

“Mm,” Ye Zhiqing responded softly, avoiding Edith’s extended hand.

Upon returning to the Hall of Khonsu, they were met—as expected—by the shocked eyes of the maids. Another flurry of activity ensued.

The two bathed separately.

Allowing the warm water to flow over her, soothing her tensed nerves, Ye Zhiqing closed her eyes and submerged herself. Everything that happened tonight was far too incredible; that moist sensation seemed to still linger on her lips.

It wasn’t until the water turned slightly cool that Ye Zhiqing stepped out unhurriedly. Entering the main hall, there was no sign of Edith.

After thinking for a moment, she assumed Edith had returned to the Palace of Ra. She didn’t ask further, took the ginger-tea-like drink from the maid, drained it, and walked toward the sleeping quarters.

A quiet corridor connected the four courtyards. Ye Zhiqing walked through the path lit by sparse, thin lamplight, pushed open the bedroom door, and closed it.

Edith, who was changing her clothes, froze for a moment. After seeing who it was, she actually slowed her movements.

Her beautiful body was outlined in alluring curves by the bright lamps. Unlike most women who were weak, her smooth, tight muscle lines made her look more like a wild temptation.

The blood raced repeatedly to her ears, making them hot and burning, a sensation that quickly spread to her cheeks. Ye Zhiqing swallowed unconsciously. After standing dazed for a long time, she was extremely embarrassed and turned around in a panic.

Why was Edith changing her clothes in her bedroom stark naked? A trace of shame-fueled annoyance grew stronger with Edith’s teasing laughter.

Edith unhurriedly finished dressing. In a casual, lazy, and arrogant posture, her teasing gaze never moved from Ye Zhiqing for a second. “Come and apply the medicine.”

The corner of Ye Zhiqing’s mouth moved. She took a long breath, steadied her mind, and walked slowly toward Edith. She handled the wound with practiced movements, her expression a facade of suppressed calm. “Your Majesty, it is time for you to leave.”