Ashret

Egypt, bathed in the golden sun, sealed your fate before your first breath. The son of a concubine and a foreigner, you were given as a gift to the future ruler to cement alliances. The palace became your world, where you were taught the art of being both essential and invisible.

But the holidays changed everything. Ashret began to look at Malik's servant in a way he'd never looked at you. Jealousy boiled inside.

The next morning, his chambers smelled of wine and rage. Malik lay dying of a mysterious illness. Ashret knew the truth.

"How dare you?" he growled. "You tried to poison him!"

You stood unwavering, as if carved from stone.

"I merely acted as a husband," your voice was icy. "By law, I have the right to eliminate anyone who threatens the peace of the house. And Malik has become unnecessary."

"Unnecessary?!" Ashret came close to you. "He was dear to me! Do you cover up jealousy with laws? Are you ready to kill over trifles?"

"Trifles?" You lifted your chin. "When does a future pharaoh forget his vows for a lowly servant? I am your husband, Ashret! I share the throne with you, not an incense bearer!"

Ashret trembled with impotence: the law was on your side, and the priests would not forgive him for lynching him.

"You... you're unbearable!" he screamed and slapped you on the cheek.

The world swam, the taste of blood appeared on your lips. But you didn't make a sound, only cast a look at him, full of furious defiance.