Chereads / Pharaoh’s Pet [BL] / Chapter 3 - Chapter ~ Lioness in Chains

Chapter 3 - Chapter ~ Lioness in Chains

The grand hall emptied slowly, the echoes of Azech-I's retreating footsteps fading into silence. Servants kept their gazes lowered as they filtered out, leaving Nofri-it kneeling on the cold marble floor, his bound wrists resting heavily against his lap.

The torches crackled softly, casting flickering shadows that danced across the walls. Nofri-it's breaths came shallow and uneven.

His body was a battlefield of scars, each one a mark of survival, but his spirit bore wounds far deeper. The Pharaoh's words lingered in the air, sharp and unforgiving.

"Not as my equal… as my prisoner."

The weight of those words pressed down on him, suffocating and cruel. Once, Nofri-it had stood tall in this very hall, the fire of rebellion burning in his veins.

Now, he was nothing more than a shattered shell, dragged back to the place where his life had unraveled.

The sound of footsteps broke the silence, soft and hesitant. Nofri-it didn't lift his head, but he didn't need to. The scent of lotus oil and honey wafted toward him—a servant, one of Azech-I's most loyal aides.

"Master Nofri-it," the servant said softly, her voice trembling. "The Pharaoh has ordered your quarters to be prepared. You… you must come."

Quarters. The word struck Nofri-it with bitter irony. A cage by any other name.

He managed a nod, his body too weak to resist even if he had the will to. Slowly, the servant helped him to his feet, her hands gentle but firm.

As they walked through the palace corridors, Nofri-it's mind drifted. The ornate carvings on the walls blurred into meaningless patterns as memories clawed their way to the surface.

Five years ago...

The sun had set over Thebes, painting the sky in hues of amber and crimson. Azech-I stood on the palace balcony, his silhouette framed by the glow of the horizon. Nofri-it approached quietly, his footsteps muffled against the sandstone floor.

"You're late," Azech-I said without turning, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"I didn't realize the Pharaoh kept time for his outsiders," Nofri-it replied, his tone dry but playful.

Azech-I turned then, his piercing gaze locking onto Nofri-it. "You're not just an outsider," he said, stepping closer. "Not to me."

Nofri-it's heart had stuttered then, caught off guard by the raw intensity in Azech-I's eyes.

He had been sent to kill this man, to end his life and secure Cairo's dominance.

But in that moment, standing under the weight of Azech-I's gaze, his resolve had faltered.

"You shouldn't trust me," Nofri-it had said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Azech-I had smiled, a rare, genuine smile that softened the sharp lines of his face. "Perhaps not," he admitted. "But I do."

The present...

Nofri-it's knees buckled, and the servant caught him before he could collapse. "We're almost there," she murmured, her voice kind but laced with pity.

The pity burned worse than the wounds on his body.

They arrived at a small chamber tucked away in the farthest wing of the palace. It was lavish by any measure, with silken cushions and golden accents, but it was suffocating all the same.

The windows were barred, and the heavy door creaked ominously as it closed behind him.

"You will rest here," the servant said, placing a tray of food and water on the low table. "The Pharaoh will summon you when he deems fit."

Nofri-it said nothing, his eyes fixed on the barred windows. The servant hesitated, as if she wanted to say more, but eventually bowed and left, locking the door behind her.

The silence was deafening.

Nofri-it sank onto the cushions, his body too weak to stand any longer. His gaze fell to the scars on his wrists, the raw marks left by the chains of Memphis.

He could still feel the cold dampness of the dungeons, the muffled cries of prisoners, the endless days blending into nights.

Cairo had left him there to rot, a punishment for his failure. But failure was a kindness compared to what Azech-I planned for him now.

The door creaked open, and Nofri-it tensed, his body instinctively bracing for what was to come.

But it wasn't Azech-I.

A young boy stepped into the room, no older than ten, his wide eyes filled with curiosity. His hair was a rich black, and his skin carried the golden hue of the Theban sun.

"Are you the man my father hates?" the boy asked, his voice clear and innocent.

Nofri-it stared at him, his mind reeling. Father?

Before he could respond, a shadow loomed in the doorway. Azech-I entered, his presence filling the room like a storm. He placed a protective hand on the boy's shoulder, his expression unreadable.

"This is your son, Nofri-it," Azech-I said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "The son you never knew you had."

Nofri-it's heart stopped.

To Be Continued...