Azech-I's fingers lingered against Nofri-it's exposed skin, his touch deceptively light, almost reverent. But Nofri-it knew better. This was not affection. This was not the tenderness he had once known from the man before him.
This was possession.
The silk of his robe pooled at his feet, leaving him half-bared before the Pharaoh's golden gaze. He refused to step back. He would not cower.
"You are quiet," Azech-I mused, his tone almost amused. His fingers traced over the faint scars along Nofri-it's collarbone, the remnants of past battles, past wounds. "I expected more resistance."
Nofri-it met his gaze with steady defiance. "And I expected you to be more merciful."
Azech-I's smirk deepened. "Then we are both fools."
With a sharp motion, Azech-I stepped back, breaking the tense moment between them. He turned away, moving toward the tray of spiced wine, his every motion slow, deliberate, as if this was nothing more than another night, another conversation between them.
Nofri-it inhaled slowly, forcing his body to remain still despite the way his pulse roared in his ears.
"I wonder…" Azech-I poured himself a goblet of wine, his voice thoughtful. "When did you learn to mask your fear so well?" He turned, eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Did you practice in Pharaoh Cairo's dungeons? Did you whisper my name in the dark, wondering if I would ever come for you?"
Nofri-it's stomach twisted. Do not react.
Azech-I took a sip of his wine, watching him over the rim of the goblet. "Did you miss me, Nofri-it?"
A slow, aching silence stretched between them.
Nofri-it forced his voice to remain steady. "I do not think of the past."
Azech-I's lips curled. "Liar."
He set the goblet down with a quiet clink and stepped forward once more.
The heat of his presence was suffocating.
"Tell me," Azech-I murmured, his fingers ghosting over Nofri-it's wrist, where faint bruises still lingered from his captivity in Cairo's dungeons. "Did you think I would never find you? That I would let you disappear into the sands?"
Nofri-it clenched his fists. "I did not think you would care."
Azech-I exhaled a quiet laugh, dark and full of something unreadable. "And yet here you are."
Another pause.
Another moment where neither of them moved.
Then—Azech-I reached for something behind him. A moment later, cold metal encircled Nofri-it's wrist. The snap of the golden cuff locking into place echoed in the chamber.
Nofri-it tensed, instinctively pulling against it.
Another snap.
His other wrist was bound just as swiftly.
Golden cuffs. Not iron shackles, not the crude restraints of a prisoner, but ornate, polished gold—crafted to gleam under the torchlight, to make captivity look like adornment.
He stared at them, at the delicate engravings woven into the metal—familiar patterns.
These were his.
From years ago. From when he had first arrived in Thebes as an assassin, when Azech-I's heart had first captured him, when he had once been—
No.
His throat went dry.
Azech-I lifted his chin with two fingers, forcing Nofri-it to meet his gaze.
"They suit you," the Pharaoh murmured.
Nofri-it swallowed against the rising tide of something dangerous in his chest. "And what now?" he asked, voice quiet, taut. "Will you keep me in your court like a pet? Parade me before your nobles as your conquered prize?"
Azech-I smiled. "You assume I need to prove something to them."
Nofri-it held his gaze, waiting.
Then Azech-I leaned closer, his lips just a breath away from his ear.
"I do not take prizes, Nofri-it," he whispered. "I reclaim what is mine."
A chill ran down Nofri-it's spine.
Before he could speak, Azech-I stepped back, his expression unreadable once more.
"Rest," the Pharaoh said, as if this had been a simple conversation between old acquaintances. "We will speak again soon."
He turned toward the door, his dark robes whispering against the stone. But just as he reached the threshold, he paused.
Without looking back, he said, "Do not try to run."
Then, he was gone.
The doors shut with a quiet thud, sealing Nofri-it inside.
The golden cuffs gleamed in the dim torchlight.
His breath came slow and measured, his heart still thundering beneath his ribs.
He had always known Azech-I would not kill him.
But he had not expected this.
And somehow, he feared it more than death itself.
To Be Continued...