The palace corridors stretched before Nofri-it like a gilded maze, lined with towering columns adorned with hieroglyphs of battles won and enemies vanquished.
Golden braziers flickered in the dimness, casting shadows that danced upon the sandstone walls. Each step he took felt heavier than the last, as if the very ground beneath him sought to swallow him whole.
Azech-I walked ahead, his black and gold robes flowing like dark waters, his every step commanding. He hadn't spoken since they left the chamber, but Nofri-it could feel his gaze lingering—watching, assessing, waiting.
They emerged into the grand hall. It was as magnificent as Nofri-it remembered. The ceiling loomed high above, painted with constellations that shimmered like trapped stars. Massive pillars carved with the symbols of Anubis framed the room, leading up to the gilded throne that sat upon an elevated dais.
At the base of the throne, courtiers had already gathered. Nobles, priests, generals—all turning to stare at him with expressions ranging from curiosity to contempt.
Nofri-it kept his chin high, refusing to shrink under their gazes. Let them look. Let them whisper. He would not cower.
Azech-I ascended the dais, his steps slow and deliberate, before settling onto his throne with the ease of a man who had no equal.
"Come forward," he commanded.
Nofri-it's feet felt like lead, but he moved. Step by step, he climbed the dais until he stood before the throne, separated from Azech-I by a mere breath of space.
The air between them crackled with something raw and dangerous.
Azech-I leaned forward, resting his chin upon his knuckles. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice laced with something that sent a shiver down Nofri-it's spine. "My once-mighty lioness, reduced to a wounded cub."
Murmurs rippled through the court.
Nofri-it clenched his fists. "Is that what you want?" he asked, his voice steady despite the fury simmering beneath his skin. "To parade me like a broken trophy?"
Azech-I chuckled. "Oh, lioness," he said, the amusement in his voice dark and velvety. "You mistake my intent. I do not parade broken things—I keep them."
The words sent a sharp pulse of something dangerous through Nofri-it. Before he could respond, Azech-I lifted a hand.
"On your knees."
The command was quiet, yet absolute.
A hush fell over the hall.
Nofri-it's breath hitched. He had expected humiliation, but this…this was something else. He felt the weight of every gaze upon him, waiting to see if he would submit.
For a moment, he considered resistance. His pride screamed at him to stand tall, to defy Azech-I even if it cost him his life.
But then, Azech-I's gaze darkened—just slightly, just enough.
And Nofri-it understood.
This was not merely punishment. This was a warning. A declaration.
Azech-I was not going to kill him. No, that would be too merciful.
He was going to own him.
Slowly, painfully, Nofri-it lowered himself onto his knees.
A sigh of satisfaction rippled through the court, and Azech-I leaned back against his throne, a smirk curving his lips.
"Much better," he murmured. "Now, let Thebes see what happens to those who betray their Pharaoh."
The doors swung open, and Nofri-it's blood ran cold as guards stepped forward—dragging in something heavy, something wrapped in chains.
His breath stilled.
A familiar pendant glinted from the prisoner's neck.
His brother.
Nofri-it's world tilted, the walls closing in, suffocating him with the weight of everything he had lost.
And Azech-I?
Azech-I only smiled.
To Be Continued...