8 Sage

Aria had been assigned a new duty. She was to be the Pharaoh's handmaid. When Kamuzu had told her, she had nearly fainted.

She wasn't special.

Not just anyone waited on the Royal Family...the Pharaoh no less.

Kamuzu had assured her that there was nothing to fear after she had expressed her anxiety.

She'd only heard colourful things about the Pharaoh since she got to the Palace, she prayed she'd be fine.

Aria's hands shook as she walked along the lit hallways of the Palace which were illuminated by oil touches hung at several intervals on the inscribed walls.

Her hands clutched the bronze tray that held the Pharaoh's night medicines tightly.

Contrary to popular notions by the people, the Pharaoh was actually kind. He only put up a ruthless front to quench any case of rebellion arising in the Palace.

What made her hands tremble wasn't her meeting with the Pharaoh, no, it was the fear of running into the Crown Prince.

Yes, the Crown Prince.

Following the previous night's incident, Aria didn't think she could endure another encounter with the Prince.

She sighed a breath of relief as she neared the Pharaoh's chambers as directed.

"Aria."

Aria stopped dead in her tracks. She smelt him before she even saw him. She gulped and immediately broke out in a sweat.

She recognised that emotionless voice anywhere.

Slowly, stiffly, she turned around to meet amber green-rimmed eyes staring into hers.

Her grip tightened on the tray.

She had to get out of there.

Aria quickly bowed and stared down at her feet.

"My Prince." She said quietly.

'Thank God she didn't stutter.'

Images of what happened at the lake the previous night invaded her thoughts.

How she had tripped over her own two legs and how he had caught her seamlessly.

Just for invading his privacy, he could have her beheaded but she had seen him bare-and he hadn't even seemed to mind.

She didn't want to die.

After he had caught her, stared into her eyes and had told her he was the Crown Prince, Aria had wanted to die at that moment.

She had wanted the ground to open up and swallow her.

Without thinking twice, she had removed herself from his hold and had ran faster than the chariots of Pharaoh.

He hadn't said anything else since he spoke her name. Her head was bowed so she couldn't tell what expression he had on his face.

'Probably disgust.'

"Why did you run away?" He questioned.

His voice was so calm it was impossible.

Aria hadn't expected that question.

Her hands trembled, making the wares give clanging sounds as they hit one another.

She inhaled sharply.

"My L-Lord, you're the Crown Pri-"

"I know what I am." He cut her off.

As he took in her small frame, he noticed her trembling hands.

He knew she was afraid of him.

He noticed her lean hands and cheeks.

'She was thin.'

He waited patiently for her answer.

Instead, much to his surprise, she knelt down and bowed her head to the ground.

"Please spare my life. I'm sorry for invading your privacy."

She was terrified. But he wasn't fazed.

"Why did you run away?" He repeated.

"I was afraid." She whispered.

"Because you found out I was the Crown Prince." He finished for her.

Aria nodded unable to form the words with the fear lodged in her throat.

"Are you afraid now?" He questioned.

She nodded.

"Yes." She answered quietly.

He stared at her for a moment before turning his back to her.

"You should be." He said before walking away, leaving her alone on the hard cold floor, in the empty hallway.

Aria let out a choked breath and buried her face in her hands.

•••

Akhenaten laid on his couch in his exceedingly large quarter.

He stared at the images carved in the high ceilings of his bed-chamber.

It told a story...a story about a dauntless young girl who tried to escape the harsh world she lived in-but ended up dying.

The tragic story reminded him of the servant girl he had met a few days ago.

'Aria...'

She was small with short hair, thin yet there was this strength in her eyes that seemed to get buried by fear whenever she looked into his eyes.

'How did she find his private lake?'

It was a part of his own side of the Palace, connected right to his personal chambers.

No one had ever been there except for him-not even his close friend, Ahmes.

The servant girl was Israeli.

"Akhenaten." A soft feminine voice called.

He opened his heavy eyes having almost fallen asleep.

He recognised that voice. It belonged to his friend—the only person bold enough to enter his bed-chamber without permission.

He sat up.

"Ahmes." His voice was deep and quiet.

His eyes roamed her body wrapped in expensive linen which had been dyed black.

She had a headscarf over her beautiful long dark hair.

Several expensive pieces of jewellery adorned her perfect body.

She was Israeli adopted by his father's friend, Abrax.

He had given her her name 'Ahmes'- which means 'child of the moon' because the Priest had told him she was born on a lunar eclipse.

"What brings you here this time?" He asked dryly.

She folded her arms.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten about your own coronation as regent?" She asked accusingly.

He sighed and lowered his head.

"How could I forget?"

She walked to him and placed a hand on his chin and raised it so that he was looking at her.

Those eyes sometimes frightened her, those cold, emotionless eyes. It was almost as if he was incapable of feeling.

Her heart raced nonetheless.

She was his friend but it hadn't stopped her from developing feelings for the desert prince.

"Are you alright?" She asked concerned.

His amber eyes locked on her brown ones.

He searched her eyes.

"I will be."

Ahmes straightened and smiled a little.

She turned around, but before she could take two steps, she felt him stand behind her.

Ahmes paused.

She felt him wrap his hands around her waist holding her to him.

Her heart raced.

"Akhenaten?" She said quietly.

She felt him bury his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent.

"We shouldn't." She exhaled.

"Why?" He asked softly.

"I know how you feel about me." He said.

Her kohl painted eyes widen.

He turned her around so that she was facing him and he held her to him.

"But you know we can never be." He whispered as he trailed ghost kisses slowly on her neck before pulling away slightly.

Ahmes stepped away from him, the hurt obvious in her eyes.

"You would dishonour me if I wasn't a virgin?" She questioned softly.

He stared into her eyes.

"Then there would be nothing left to dishonour." He stated.

Ahmes slapped him, hard.

His head turned to the side.

"Akhenaten!" She gasped out.

He looked back at her.

"Love doesn't exist." He said quietly.

"You'll only be disappointed."

Ahmes looked into his expressionless eyes.

"But I loved you." She said quietly.

"When no one else did." She continued heartbroken.

Akhenaten understood.

"Not your father or your mother. Not even your brother." She said the last part quietly knowing she'd breached a sensitive topic.

Ahmes saw him tense.

Immediately, she regretted it and her eyes lowered.

"You should go." He said quietly.

"I'll meet you at the coronation." He said walking away from her to prepare himself for the ritual.

Ahmes looked at him guilt-ridden but she stubbornly pushed it away and left his chamber.

•••

It was a very beautiful day. Aria was waiting on Pharaoh.

They were on the roof of the Palace where the Pharaoh sat on a decorated seat and looked over the expanse of the entire Palace watching the activities of the people below.

Aria remembered the coronation ceremony that had taken place the day before—when the Prince was announced, regent.

She'd never seen that much food in one place.

The Pharaoh had been ill for a while and wasn't as strong as he used to, which was why the Crown Prince—Prince Akhenaten, would act as regent for the time being.

When Aria had seen him, in all his glory with his expensive clothing, jewellery—she had never seen a man look so beautiful.

"Ahit." She heard the weak voice of the Pharaoh call.

She turned to him.

Physically, he looked quite healthy and vibrant but she knew inside...he was dying.

She had overheard the Royal Physicians' diagnosis—he had a few years to live.

She looked at him with pity in her eyes.

"My Pharaoh." She bowed her head slightly.

"Looking down at the people below, what do you see?" He asked her sagely.

There was this light in his eyes, this glitter as if there was something he could see that she couldn't.

Aria's brows furrowed in confusion but she looked below nonetheless.

She didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

She saw people going about their daily duties-merchandise being offloaded from the ships, servants cleaning, armed guards keeping a sharp eye and other normal activities that took place every day in the Palace.

And far into the distance, past the glitz and magnificence of the Royal Palace, past the cities, she saw the harsh desert.

Then she looked much nearer and she saw the Nile River, flowing right in front of the Palace. She could see one of the Royal fleets.

She looked back at Pharaoh.

"Nothing out of the ordinary Pharaoh." She said quietly.

"Do you know what I see?" He waited for her to reply.

"No Pharaoh." She responded quietly.

"I see a time, an era that would soon pass, a time that would soon be long forgotten." He started.

Aria's brows furrowed—she didn't understand. He was silent for a moment.

Aria eyed the royal guards that were fanning the Pharaoh-even though they had a canopy over them and the cool breeze blew soothingly.

He signalled them to stop.

They did, bowed and withdrew back.

"A new era will come, an era when people would see past laws, regulations and focus on what's the most important." Aria still didn't understand.

She was having a very hard time keeping up.

"What's that my Pharaoh?" She enquired.

There was a pause for a while before he answered.

"Love." He said finally.

Aria's eyes widened. He turned to face her.

She gasped.

His eyes—they looked a lot like his son's, the same amber eyes. But one could tell they were still slightly different.

The similarity was uncanny though.

"Help Akhenaten."

Aria's eyes widened.

'What?'

"He's lost. His heart has been blackened by pain and hate—hatred for me and his late mother." He continued.

"He is filled with darkness, there is no light in him and I fear for him, for Egypt."

Aria could see the wrinkles on his aged face.

"I know you're Israeli, just like my god-daughter. What's your native name?"

"Aria. It's Aria sir." She said quietly.

"Aria, I've read about your God in our historical records. None of our gods was able to save him, maybe yours will."

"Help him Aria. This is my dying wish, not as Pharaoh, but as a father."

...