She was as indecisive as he was. “Your Highness!” The horrified exclamation of one guard caused the others to become agitated as well. Unsteady glances were exchanged and although Assou could watch them out of the corner of his eye, all his attention was on Maathorneferure.

She ventured another step inside, but stopped short of the dark patches of floor with her finely crafted sandals. The light colour of the ankle-length robe stood out against the gloom at her feet and her head tilted to one side as she looked at Nagib. There was no horror in her eyes, no surprise, no disgust at death.

“I heard about the circumstances of what happened and wanted to see it for myself,” she continued. “I heard this man was part of a conspiracy against our Pharaoh Ramesses.”

Astonishment ran through the men as the tjati sucked every word from her lips, every single lie she uttered as if there was nothing easier in the face of a wounded woman and a dead man. She spun things the way she needed to and simultaneously left no room for speculation. She was one of the three Great Royal Queens. No one would doubt a single sound leaving her lips. Except those who knew better.

“That is probably the reason our honoured vizier has come here, despite the danger of appearing without an aide.” She glanced at him, gave him one of her strangely warped, mocking smiles, and then stood directly in front of him. She towered over him by an entire head.

The guards, meanwhile, turned away to inspect Fatrada. All at once, each of them seemed to realise that it was absurd to think such a frail-looking woman could kill a man like Nagib. Maathorneferure, however, took advantage of the troop’s lack of attention to lean down towards Assou. Her face came so close to his he thought he could smell her skin. Flowers rose to his senses as her eyes stared down at his soul.

“You should play along, Vizier.” She drew out his title like a singsong. “If you don’t, I’ll have your lover killed first and then push you into the hands of Amentet.”

His mouth remained dry as dust. He couldn’t even muster enough saliva as he bit his tongue. The throbbing in his mouth did nothing. She had the upper hand, no matter how he turned it. Maathorneferure was ten steps ahead of him. There was no way to wriggle out of her grip. In these breaths, all he could do was obey.

His body only managed a dull nod, which made Maathorneferure’s smile widen. For a fraction of a blink, she took on the form of a monster, only to return to being the beautiful woman who knew how to enchant the people. She straightened up just in time for the guards to turn to her. They needed instructions, a plan, something they could cling to without upsetting Ramesses. She knew that, and yet she let each of them ask her wordlessly.

“This woman has acted in honour of our Pharaoh, no matter what the consequences may be. This act forbids her to be executed. But she has also committed a cruel crime, which means we can no longer leave her among the people of the nation.” Bored, Maathorneferure folded her arms in front of her chest. “If we take all these things into consideration, I come to the decision the pharaoh would hardly make differently. This woman will work as a slave in the palace from today onwards.”

Slave. A woman in rags, ordered to do everything that was demanded of her. Opposition was punished. There were no wishes. It was hardly better than facing death, he thought, because the slaves in the palace were forced to do everything. They were used for sex, were the black sheep if anything went wrong and were even treated like dogs by the visitors. So she was at the bottom of the chain. The only thing that could save Fatrada were two things: her connection to him and the fact she could read. Slaves like her were valuable.

Still, his shoulders shook. The sweat clinging to his hands could barely be wiped off on the shendyt, and the knowledge Fatrada was in the line of fire because of him made his posture sag. Even when Fatrada looked at him, her eyes wide open so they shone like gemstones, he couldn’t utter a sound. He couldn’t resist Maathorneferure if he didn’t want to make things worse. All that remained was to watch her being taken away. The people in the city would talk their heads off. They would drag Fatrada’s name in the mud and they would mourn Nagib.

He slowly closed his eyes and turned his head to the side to push the scenarios as far back as he could. Worrying about these things would get him nowhere, and it would help him even less if he lost sight of Maathorneferure’s steps.

He hastily opened his eyes again to realise the guards had all disappeared and his queen was still within reach. Her eyes rested on him, while the smirk on her lips was nothing but mockery.

“You’re nothing more than a silly boy in the end, aren’t you?” The words slipped from her lips like the stones of the pyramids, almost as if she was incapable of enjoying the situation. “You should have chosen your opponent better, Vizier.”

With a dismissive wave of her hand, she left. She simply turned her back on him and Assou could barely hear himself as he leapt forward to grab her by the arm. Everything in him counselled caution, but the dark part of his mind, which couldn’t be controlled, gripped so tightly that a hiss escaped her. Immediately afterwards, he spun her back in his direction with force, sending her crashing backwards into the wall of the house. The sound of pain that escaped her released pleasure in him. It was music to his ears to hear something other than her threatening words and smug laughter. Squeezing her soft skin between his hands had charm, as did the warning glint in her eyes and the puckered lips.

“You shouldn’t have meddled in my affairs, woman,” he spat back at her with the same venom she’d been teasing his senses with for ages. “Don’t think I’m going to shy away from killing you if you leave me no other choice.” His voice was only a hiss. “And believe me, you’ve started something you can’t win.”

Instead of meeting him head on, giving him a reason to snap her neck on the spot, she swallowed. She took silent breaths, as if she had indeed landed in an unforeseen situation, before jutting her chin and finding her voice again. “Beware, Vizier. I am still your queen.”

She was right. Maathorneferure was stating the obvious, and it seemed as if she was clearing the clouds from his mind. The unclear thoughts lifted and suddenly the situation took on the bitter flavour of a long-forgotten deed. He didn’t know what to do with himself. All Assou could do was loosen his grip on her arm and take a few steps back.

“You look surprised,” his queen remarked, unable to crack a smile this time. Instead, she looked down at him as if she were reprimanding an animal that had no right to be near her. “Did you think I would be intimidated by you?” Her brows lifted. “Or have you just lost your mind?”

Had he? His gaze fell on his hands, whose trembling gave no answer. His body was tensed to breaking point, his thoughts no longer attainable and the throbbing behind his temples grew stronger the more he tried to catch himself. He didn’t even bother to answer Maathorneferure. His legs simply started moving, away from the lies, away from the scenario, and also away from the woman’s biting words that were slowly driving him mad. All the while, the question of the stone slab came back to his mind. Did he want to win?

There was nothing that could be won. He wasn’t playing a game that someone had started for his own amusement. Presumably all this was nothing more than an elaborate plan by Maathorneferure, whose poison cloaked the entire palace in a new guise. What’s more, he had no room to complain. Dinem had warned him. She had advised him to be careful, and he had scared her away. Dismissing her words had probably been one of his biggest mistakes in this battle, he realised. It was only because of his carelessness that Maathorneferure had got this far.

Half in thought, he stroked his face with both hands. Perhaps all this was nothing more than a game, after all. One that this woman had created to pass the time and watch someone else suffer. An insidious idea, but one that made sense to him.

Assou’s legs carried him straight into the middle of nowhere. Trapped between the walls of houses and the sandy ground, which dusted with every step, only the torches on the main path gave him a little light. However, the rays didn’t reach him and at the latest one step further, he would be shrouded in darkness.

He stopped, out of reflex, and took a breath. Something inside him boiled like hot water, while the rest of him tried to break through. The calm, the self-confidence, the certainty he could still gain the upper hand and not be led by emotions like a little boy – all these things were still there, even if they felt worn out.

He wiped his sweaty hands on the shendyt before tugging at the fabric of his tunic and closing his eyes. Floating darkness promised him peace and quiet, freedom to think a few clear thoughts that otherwise slipped between his fingers. It was a bit of peace that lulled him to sleep, and in the very next breath, it brushed softly around his ankles, causing Assou’s eyelids to open slowly.

Shadows clung to his legs, making the spot on which he stood as deep and opaque as the abyss. Then two sparkling eyes stared at him from the depths and it took a moment for the blackness to lift from the shadows.

“Amenti!” Raising his brows, Assou scrutinised the cat as if she had no business being in this place. Yet she was freer than any other creature in this world. She sat down in front of him and looked at him as if she had been waiting. Her black fur melted into her surroundings. Only her eyes burned like little lights.

Her mewing echoed along the walls, and Assou noticed how his gaze flitted around, hoping no one would see her. But he had nothing to hide. The bruised skin, which seemed cold, irritated him. Everything seemed to be falling apart, Fatrada was now a slave and the ground beneath him was becoming more fragile. In addition, he was talking to a cat as if he had actually lost his mind. Maathorneferure was probably right and admitting exactly that to her made the circumstances unpleasant.

“Get out of here, you stupid thing.” With a shooing hand gesture, he tried to get rid of Amenti. “If you can’t help me win this game, you’re just in the way right now.” He snorted. A game. His head accepted the unwanted facts faster than he would have liked. “Just look at me...”