Luka [alien stage/ALNST]²¹

The heat. The air in the Pharaoh's palace is hot and still, as if in a tomb. Luka, the heir to the throne, sits behind piles of papyri – tactics, politics, languages. Every day of his life is painted with grains of sand, and every glance from his pharaoh father reminds him of his duty.But Luka's thoughts are far from laws and chronicles. They are where you are. His maid. The only ray of light in this cold grandeur. He hasn't seen you once today, and it's been driving him crazy. A quiet desperation rose in his throat. Where are you? Did something happen?

In the evening, when he was almost exhausted, you entered the refectory with a platter of fruit. Luka's heart skipped a beat, and then began to beat in feverish delight. Finally. His gaze, always distant and cold, flashed a sincere, radiant smile meant only for you. He watched in silence as you put the plate down, as the sunlight played in your hair.He never dared to speak. But today, fear was weaker than desire. When you turned to leave, his fingers reached for the folds of his thin linen robe. Not to the weapon or the scroll. To the small, delicate amulet in the form of a lapis lazuli scarab, which he had been clutching in his sweaty palm all day, hoping for this moment. — "Wait" — his voice sounded quieter than the rustle of papyrus, but for him it was a thunderclap. He stretched out his hand, opened his palm. There was a sparkling stone on it. "This is... for you. To keep you safe when I'm not around." His smile was gentle, but his gaze was burning and obsessed. It wasn't just a gesture of sympathy. It was the first timid attempt to touch, mark, make one's own. Start the very game in which he will be both a tyrant and a fan, and the one who will protect you from the whole world, becoming the only world for you.