A Pharaoh and Her Beloved Queen - Chapter 30

Dense, muffled footsteps echoed through the empty corridors of the inner palace, abruptly shattering the calm that hid treacherous undercurrents.

A disciplined, murderous army moved rapidly toward Edith’s residence, simultaneously sealing off every corridor exit.

Peering through a narrow slit in the stone door at the scene outside, Kabu appeared deeply worried. “Priest Senusret, outside is the guard unit personally led by Heshi, though Heshi herself is not visible. They are heading in Edith’s direction.”

Senusret paced back and forth along the courtyard wall without replying, his expression even more grim than Kabu’s.

According to the plan, Saul was to publicly proclaim an oracle at the Nile Festival, utilizing this year’s abnormal water levels to shake Edith’s standing in the hearts of the Egyptian people.

To their surprise, Saul had changed his mind at the last minute, forcing them to hastily alter the contents of the Divine Book.

The oracle proclaimed by the Luxor Temple had always been the highlight of the Nile Festival. The position of High Priest in charge of Luxor was hereditary, reserved only for males of the Ptah family. After the upheaval ten years ago, Saul became the last remaining bloodline of the Ptah family.

At the annual Nile Festival, the High Priest of Luxor would demonstrate his miraculous powers to the Egyptian populace and convey the will of the Sun God through the Divine Book. If the book contained content rebuking the Pharaoh, it could potentially shake the very foundations of the Pharaoh’s rule.

Since the beginning of the New Kingdom, there had never been an oracle rebuking a Pharaoh—not even ten years ago when Edith personally slaughtered nearly half of the priests in Thebes.

One could imagine the magnitude of the shock if such an oracle were to appear now.

The more he thought, the less he could control the fury in his heart. Senusret smashed his scepter against the ground in exasperation. “The news sent back from High Priest Karnak was certain. Why did he have to change his mind at the last minute?”

“Priest Senusret, what we should worry about now is not the Nile Festival, but whether tonight’s assassination succeeded. Once exposed, you know the consequences.”

Hearing this, Senusret’s eyes darkened into silence. In the shadows where Kabu could not see, his blood-red pupils held a shocking, manic frenzy.

Consequences? For ten years, he had lived only for revenge, by any means necessary. The more tragically Edith fell, the more gratified he would feel.

The footsteps outside the courtyard faded into the distance, adding a layer of restlessness to the murderous atmosphere.

Blood. There were splatters of blood everywhere, shocking to the eye.

The small courtyard was surrounded tightly by the army, radiating a thick, lethal aura. Edith braced herself with her sword against the ground; blood slid from the hilt down the blade, gathering into a winding crimson stream on the polished floor, as if leading one into a sunless abyss of terror.

The air seemed frozen, saturated by the overwhelming majesty pouring out of Edith, bringing a faint sense of suffocation.

Ye Zhiqing stood by Edith’s side, her expression steady but her face exceptionally pale. Her robe was stained with blood—it was unclear whose—and the contrast between the dark red clots and her deathly pale face created a powerful visual impact, a ghostly and seductive beauty walking on the edge of a blade.

Not far away lay the five lifeless corpses of the men in white. Heshi’s deputy was kneeling in the courtyard, the beads of sweat constantly breaking out on his forehead revealing his inner terror. Almost simultaneously, the Queen of Egypt and the Hittite Princess had both been targeted by assassins.

Even more perplexing was that the guards stationed in the inner palace had been temporarily reassigned elsewhere for unknown reasons.

An obvious conspiracy…

“Is it certain the Hittite delegation is unharmed?” Her tone was low, and a ghost of a cold smile played on Edith’s lips.

“Yes, King. Only General Heshi and several soldiers are seriously wounded. Everyone in the Hittite delegation is safe. All exits have been sealed.”

“Investigate,” Edith said succinctly, her cold, hard profile still unreadable.

The deputy watched as Queen Edith turned to walk back, her sword tip dragging against the ground with a piercing, sharp screech. His face was haggard.

Although Her Majesty Edith had not mentioned the anomaly regarding the guards, the fury contained within was enough to make them tremble with fear.

No one could withstand the Queen’s wrath.

The moment the door closed, Edith’s entire weight pressed onto Ye Zhiqing. Her right hand fell powerlessly, and her longsword dropped.

Struggling to move Edith toward the bed, Ye Zhiqing could clearly feel that the thick cloth she had pressed against Edith’s back was already soaked through by a continuous flow of warm blood.

Finding it difficult even to breathe, Ye Zhiqing exerted all her strength to get Edith onto the bed. Her throat felt as if it had been pierced by a sharp object; she felt like a fish washed ashore by a wave, scorched by the merciless sun, about to lose her life in the next second.

Her temples throbbed violently with sharp pain, and her vision went black. Ye Zhiqing stumbled toward the door. Edith’s body temperature was abnormally low; every bit of skin she touched was ice-cold.

A truly dire situation.

“Lamassu, quickly! Go fetch the medical priest. Remember, it must be done in secret.”

Urgent footsteps, panic, nowhere to hide.

…

Watching Lamassu leave, Ye Zhiqing turned back to fetch a basin of hot water.

Edith wore a dark ritual robe tonight, which easily concealed the horrific wounds on her back. Only Ye Zhiqing knew that Edith was injured—a severe wound deep enough to show bone.

Carrying the water basin into the room, Ye Zhiqing saw double images from time to time. A dull pain came from her wrist; before fainting, Edith had gripped her wrist with immense strength. “Use any means necessary… do not let word of my injury get out.”

Setting down the basin, Ye Zhiqing suddenly knelt before the bed. She grabbed a sharp ornament and, without expression, stabbed it into her thigh. Crimson blood instantly bloomed across the fabric.

The sharp physical pain allowed her to maintain a temporary clarity.

Edith lay on the bed with her eyes tightly closed, her breathing weak. Stripped of the sharpness she displayed in the courtyard just now, she possessed a vulnerability Ye Zhiqing could never have imagined.

Even when she suffered a bone-deep arrow wound in Tanis, Edith had never shown the slightest weakness. She was like a statue without sensation, knowing no pain, never ceasing.

But now, this statue had truly fallen before her eyes.

With trembling hands, Ye Zhiqing undid Edith’s blood-soaked robe; in some places, it had already adhered to the wounds.

Wringing out a cloth soaked in hot water, Ye Zhiqing could only try to wipe away the clotted blood around the wounds bit by bit.

An unconscious moan of pain made Ye Zhiqing’s hand pause.

Drenched in sweat and after much struggle, she finally provided the most basic treatment for Edith’s wounds, pulling over a thin silk coverlet to carefully cover her.

The hot water beside them had been dyed blood-red, emitting a thick metallic scent. There were three wounds on Edith’s back: two sword wounds and one arrow wound. The latter was taken while shielding her.

Ye Zhiqing’s mind went blank intermittently, unsure of what to do next. She simply sat by the bed, holding Edith’s hand. it was still ice-cold.

In the silence, her panic was magnified to the extreme. Ye Zhiqing’s trembling, hoarse voice rose, calling out over and over, “Your Majesty Edith…”

But the person on the bed offered no response.

Ye Zhiqing didn’t know how much time had passed, calling out tirelessly until her voice was hoarse to the point of being lost.

Urgent footsteps sounded outside. Ye Zhiqing snapped back to reality and rose to open the door. It was Lamassu and the Chief Medical Priest.

Ye Zhiqing struggled to gather her thoughts and hurriedly made way for the priest.

“Ah! Miss, you are injured!” Lamassu cried out, insisting on tending to Ye Zhiqing’s wound.

Ye Zhiqing, whose heart and soul were entirely on Edith, had no time to worry about her own injury. The pain of her heart being crushed and then meticulously ground was far more intense, already surpassing the pain in her leg.

Unable to resist Lamassu’s persistence, Ye Zhiqing reluctantly agreed to have her wound treated on the other side of the room.

The medical priest’s technique for treating the wounds seemed very practiced. Cloth soaked in blood fell continuously below the bed; Ye Zhiqing’s heart tightened as she watched. It seemed as if Edith’s blood would never stop flowing.

It was a long ordeal accompanied by a dull ache.

Edith’s injuries received basic treatment; the priest applied the best topical medicine available in the Mortuary Temple.

Ye Zhiqing confirmed multiple times with the priest whether Edith was out of danger. The answer she received was that there was no immediate threat to her life. Steadying her mind, she signaled to Lamassu. Several attendants instantly rushed into the room, seized the medical priest, and took him away.

After the commotion, the room returned to silence.

She had to marvel at Edith’s powerful constitution—she was simply not a normal person. Letting out a long sigh of relief, Ye Zhiqing staggered to the bedside and sat down, feeling quite drained of strength.

Regardless, as long as she was alright, it was a good thing.

Her tensed nerves relaxed slightly. Recalling the scene at dusk, Ye Zhiqing still felt a lingering fear.

She had originally intended to lung forward to block that hidden arrow for Edith, but Edith had sensed it. Ye Zhiqing didn’t know how Edith managed to pull her into her arms in such a short amount of time while turning around; by the time Ye Zhiqing recovered her senses, the clear sound of flesh being torn echoed in her ears.

Seeing Edith injured, the men in white became even more aggressive in their attack, entirely ignoring Ye Zhiqing and aiming every strike directly at Edith.

Edith gradually grew unable to resist and was stabbed by two more swords. At the critical moment, the army arrived…

With a soft sigh—Edith’s situation in Egypt was indeed worse than she had thought. The fierce fighting in the courtyard had lasted so long, yet the guards who were supposed to be stationed outside had made no move.

Just now, Ye Zhiqing had asked Lamassu if she heard the fighting. The answer was that all the attendants had been drugged into unconsciousness after she entered the courtyard.

Flawless execution. It seemed this was a long-premeditated act.

Lamassu quickly brewed the internal medicine and brought it up. Ye Zhiqing took it and tried to feed it to Edith’s lips with a spoon, drop by drop.

The brown medicinal liquid slid down the corners of her mouth; without exception, Edith was currently unable to swallow the medicine actively.

Ye Zhiqing carefully propped up Edith’s head, but after trying again, it still didn’t work.

A thought struck her. “Lamassu, you go out first.”

Taking a large mouthful of the medicine, Ye Zhiqing lowered her head and pressed her lips to Edith’s bloodless ones, sending the liquid into her mouth bit by bit.