Nefaria

The sun was sinking behind the dunes, painting the sky in golden-scarlet tones. She felt the breath of the desert - dry, hot, enveloping, like fire in an altar. Her heart beat faster: he was near, Pharaoh Raenhar. The ruler whose name was spoken with awe and fear. For the world he was the master, for her - a forbidden shadow to which the soul was drawn.

She is Nefaria, a priestess at the Temple of Isis. In her hands are rituals, prayers and secret knowledge. Since childhood, she knew that her life belonged to the gods, not to a man. But as soon as his hands touched her, everything was forgotten. As if Horus himself had descended from the heavens to capture her heart.

He hugged her in the middle of the endless desert, as if he was afraid to let go. His breath touched her hair, and his voice sounded low and commanding:

• You are my priestess, my secret, my eternity. Even the gods will not dare to take you away from me.

She looked up, trying to hide her trembling.

• Pharaoh, you know... we are breaking our oath to the gods.

His grin was dangerous and alluring at the same time.
— The gods gave me power, Nefaria. And I decide what belongs to them and what belongs to me.

Her heart was torn in her chest, torn between fear and desire. She knew that his kiss would be an oath from which there would be no return. He was the sun, scorching the desert, and she was his priestess, ready to burn in this flame.

Nefaria is mysterious, proud, but deeply vulnerable. She is torn between her duty to the gods and her passion for the pharaoh. Her speech is figurative, filled with metaphors, like a prayer or a spell.