A Pharaoh and Her Beloved Queen - Chapter 24

The night wind swept through, and the candlelight in the courtyard flickered. Through the dappled shadows of branches and leaves, two figures were faintly visible in the central stone pavilion.

“High Priest Karnak, must we really do this?” The speaker was the young priest who had remained silent during the conspiracy with Senusret and the others a few days ago.

A disdainful snort escaped Karnak’s lips. “Roel, do you think there’s any turning back? Manefertiti is already in Thebes. Can’t you guess the outcome of these negotiations? Do you think Manefertiti will still help us then as she does now?”

The gloomy atmosphere made Karnak’s expression look even more terrifying. Roel’s face darkened further. “But if we strike during the Nile Festival…”

Karnak interrupted Roel impatiently, “Once the peace treaty is officially signed with the Hittites, who knows how long we’ll have to wait for the next opportunity. Neither we nor Prince Inanhote can wait any longer.”

Without further argument, Roel tacitly accepted the plan: to strike during the Nile Festival.

Edith, Manefertiti, Narmer—if anything went wrong for any of these three, they could take the opportunity to disrupt the already precarious relationship between Egypt and the Hittites.

Undoubtedly, maintaining a hostile relationship between Egypt and the Hittites was the best outcome for Prince Inanhote and themselves, though the risks were immense.

After a long silence, Roel continued, “Will we use only Senusret’s people for this assassination?”

It was a question, but phrased with the certainty of a statement.

Karnak rose and walked out of the pavilion, gazing toward the palace. His voice could not hide its ruthlessness. “That pack of fools under Senusret has wanted to act for a long time. We’ll let them go this time. If they succeed, we’ll fan the flames from the shadows. If they fail, we’ll throw them to the wolves.”

The heartless words made Roel’s heart skip a beat. He nodded, feigning composure. Karnak’s ambitions and methods had been hidden far too well over the years.

Meanwhile, inside the palace.

Seeing that Manefertiti had no intention of stopping as she reached her, Heshi took a step back.

Seeing this, the displeasure radiating from Manefertiti grew a bit more intense. She continued forward, and Heshi retreated again.

One advancing, one retreating, until there was nowhere left to go. Her back hit the hard stone wall, and Heshi was forced to lift her head and look directly at the aggressive Manefertiti.

“General Heshi, am I really that terrifying?” Manefertiti pressed close to Heshi unhurriedly, stopping only when a mere inch remained between them. Her deliberately slow pace magnified the complex emotions in Heshi’s heart to the extreme.

Clearly, when it came to manipulating hearts, Heshi was no match for Manefertiti.

Having cornered her, Manefertiti studied Heshi’s face almost greedily. Five years had stripped away Heshi’s remaining youth. In a daze, Manefertiti felt as if she had returned to the days five years ago when they were entwined daily.

Stripped of the shackles of their identities, they were simply lovers, and nothing more.

A hazy look crossed her reddish-brown eyes. Manefertiti slowly leaned down, approaching inch by inch. An ambiguous tension circulated between their increasingly rapid breaths.

The tender affection, so difficult to refuse, quickly allowed the hidden pain in Heshi’s heart to surge forth.

Just as their lips were about to touch, her remaining reason forced Heshi to turn her head away. The kiss that was about to cross the boundary came to an abrupt halt.

“Your Highness Manefertiti, this is the palace of Thebes. Edith’s eyes and ears are everywhere. Please be mindful of your status and conduct.” The stinging pain in her chest reminded Heshi that she had to end what was happening immediately.

But Manefertiti clearly did not intend to let Heshi off so easily. She pressed her entire upper body against Heshi and swiftly stole a kiss.

Caught off guard, a warm sensation touched her lips. The familiar, sweet fragrance was filled with an alluring intent, quickly eroding the remnants of Heshi’s logic.

She pressed against her lips and teeth, swiftly capturing Heshi’s breath. Accompanied by the distant and familiar intoxicating scent of balsam, she lingered in the warm, wet entanglement. Before the thought of rejection could even rise, it was crushed by the surging tide.

It was an intense kiss where pain and pleasure coexisted, surging with a sense of hysteria.

Rapid gasps rippled with a hint of enchantment in the silent night.

Griping the stone wall behind her, her body trembled with tiny shudders. Heshi closed her moist eyes and then slowly opened them. “Man…”

Manefertiti’s cool fingertip landed on her lips, cutting off the rest of Heshi’s words. “General Heshi, the Hittites and Egypt are at peace. Identity will no longer be an obstacle between us.”

Her voice was laced with threads of coaxing. Her focused gaze suggested that if she looked just one second longer, Heshi would blurt out “Alright” without hesitation.

“Your Highness Manefertiti, do you think I am truly foolish enough to believe you would give up the power you have built in Thebes for years just for me?” Her sudden loss of volume betrayed a hint of hoarseness—it sounded like an interrogation, but even more like self-mockery.

Whether five years ago or five years later, Manefertiti would only ever be a calculated monarch.

A flash of mischief appeared in her darkened eyes, but Manefertiti did not reply.

At this moment, silence was non-denial, which was a disguised admission.

The pain in her chest grew sharper. Heshi pushed Manefertiti away with uncharacteristic loss of composure. “Princess, no matter what your true purpose for this trip is, I must give you a word of advice: the priests of Thebes are never as simple as they appear on the surface.”

Without staying, she fled in haste.

Manefertiti watched Heshi’s retreating back, her expression unreadable. The storm in her heart did not show a single ripple on the surface.

Once the person was out of sight, Manefertiti turned and entered the hall. All her emotions were hidden away with her leisurely steps.

In the eyes of the public, Princess Manefertiti could only ever be composed and elegant.

The night faded, and the early morning air carried a hint of dampness. Ye Zhiqing wandered aimlessly through the palace. The phantoms that lurked in the night had vanished, and everything was quiet.

Layered, magnificent clouds stretched across the horizon. Generally speaking, when there are clouds in the sky, the sunrise is even more spectacular—a sight rarely seen in Thebes, where it almost never rains.

Ye Zhiqing chose a wide palace path leading to an unknown destination and walked forward slowly. Last night, Edith had hurried away after seeing her back to the Hall of Khonsu. Ye Zhiqing felt a bit listless; she could sense that Edith would be very busy for a long time to come.

Not just because of the backlog of political affairs, but because the water level of the Nile had yet to recede.

From Lamassu’s worried tone, Ye Zhiqing learned that the Nile’s water level this year was higher than ever before. This meant the floods would wash away the crops people relied on for survival and everything else. Refugees would pour continuously into cities with relatively safe geography, and Thebes would be the first choice for countless people.

This meant chaotic social order. If handled poorly, it would trigger riots.

And when the floods receded, famine and plague would follow. Every issue was thornier than the last.

The guard followed behind her, the sound of metal clashing as they walked sounding extremely abrupt in the quiet environment.

Manefertiti, also up early, looked with some surprise at the dazed Ye Zhiqing in the distance. She habitually donned a gentle smile, and the fatigue deep in her pupils quietly dissolved.

“Miss Ye.” A soft tone that easily made one lower their guard.

“Your Highness.” Ye Zhiqing snapped back to reality and gave a slight nod, acknowledging the greeting.

Unexpectedly running into Manefertiti, Ye Zhiqing clearly did not want to have too much private involvement with this Hittite princess. She was just about to find a reason to leave when—

“Miss Ye, come in and sit. Try some of the Cyathea wine unique to the Hittites.” With a gentle and perfect demeanor, even though her long hair was slightly disheveled, Manefertiti’s moving grace was undeniable.

Her body responded before her brain could.

The transparent liquid gave off a pleasant, exotic aroma. Taking the exquisite, small glass cup, Ye Zhiqing took a shallow sip. Amidst the sweetness and clarity, there was a fresh scent of natural greenery—truly top-tier.

“Miss Ye, we already met at the Mediterranean. I haven’t had the chance to thank you,” Manefertiti said. Her posture appeared gently harmless and approachable, but in truth, the sense of detachment was thick.

Ye Zhiqing returned a polite smile, but she hadn’t expected Manefertiti to bring up the Mediterranean incident so directly. She turned and waved away Lamassu and the guards who were standing not far away.

“Your Highness, that night was just an accident. There’s no need to mention it again, don’t you agree?” Her nonchalant tone made it clear she didn’t want to discuss the Mediterranean.

The chill of the early morning breeze made it easy to maintain a state of absolute clarity.

Manefertiti smiled unbothered, but a sharp glint suddenly flashed in her soft eyes. “Since Miss Ye doesn’t want to mention the Mediterranean, how about we mention Punt? I imagine no one would be without curiosity as to why the Queen of a nation would willingly become the concubine of an enemy monarch.”

Her tone was soft, without a hint of mockery.

Setting down her wine, Ye Zhiqing’s expression was indifferent and unmoved. Her faint look hadn’t changed since she stepped into the stone pavilion. “Your Highness, that is a question I cannot answer you, at least not for now.”

More and more light pierced through the clouds; soon it would be full daylight. The orderly palm trees surrounding the pavilion caught the increasingly bright light, casting kaleidoscopic shadows on the leaf tips where morning dew had gathered.

Ye Zhiqing did not want to guess Manefertiti’s unusual attitude. All signs from the banquet suggested Manefertiti would never ask such an impolite question. Clearly, something had happened to make this Princess lose her patience.

Yes—a facade. The Manefertiti she saw at the Mediterranean, the one at the banquet, and the one today gave Ye Zhiqing entirely different feelings. It wasn’t just two sides of one person; Manefertiti’s two “modes” were distinct, with no connecting points between them.

At first, Ye Zhiqing simply thought it was because she hadn’t spent enough time with Manefertiti, but this morning’s accidental encounter made her vague, uncertain feeling grow clearer and more definite.

Manefertiti’s trip to Hittite—beyond signing the peace treaty—must hold a deeply hidden, unspeakable secret.