The silence of the chamber pressed against Nofri-it's skin like a second set of shackles. The golden cuffs on his wrists felt heavier than they should, as if they carried not just the weight of metal, but the weight of the past—of everything he had lost, everything he had once been.
He turned his wrists slowly, watching the torchlight glint off the polished engravings. His. These had belonged to him, once. A gift from Azech-I when Thebes had still been his cage, but a gilded one—a cage he had chosen to stay in, believing, foolishly, that he could play the game, that he could control his own fate.
He had been wrong.
A bitter smile curled at his lips.
Footsteps echoed beyond the chamber doors, measured and steady. A guard? A servant? Or perhaps Azech-I himself, returning to twist the knife deeper?
The doors remained closed.
Nofri-it exhaled, his breath shaking only slightly. He had survived worse. He had spent five years in the darkness beneath Cairo's palace, chained like an animal, fed scraps like a forgotten relic. Five years in silence, in suffering.
He would survive this too.
Slowly, he moved toward the water basin. His reflection wavered in the rippling surface, unrecognizable. Hollow cheeks, bruised skin, lips chapped from deprivation. He barely looked human, let alone like the lethal shadow Cairo had once molded him into.
His fingers trembled as he reached for the water, cupping it in his hands before splashing it over his face. The coolness bit into his skin, shocking him back into the present.
He is playing with you.
Azech-I had not killed him. He had not locked him away in some forgotten dungeon. Instead, he had placed him here—in a chamber so eerily familiar, draped in memories of another time, another life.
This was not mercy.
This was cruelty of the most insidious kind.
Azech-I wanted him to remember.
He wanted him to feel.
Nofri-it let out a slow breath, his fingers tightening against the edge of the basin. Fine. Let Azech-I think he was broken. Let him believe he had won.
But Nofri-it had not survived five years in hell to be crushed so easily.
A rustle of fabric.
His body tensed instinctively as the doors creaked open.
For a moment, he thought it was Azech-I—but the figure that stepped inside was smaller, leaner, moving with careful grace.
A servant.
A young boy, no older than fifteen summers, dressed in the flowing linen of Theban attendants. He carried a tray of food, the scent of roasted lamb and honeyed figs filling the air.
Nofri-it did not move as the boy hesitated at the threshold, wide eyes darting to the golden cuffs on his wrists before lowering quickly in deference.
"My lord," the boy murmured, stepping forward with careful, measured steps. He set the tray down near the low table, his hands steady despite the tension in his shoulders. "The Pharaoh has ordered you to eat."
Nofri-it stared at the food, his stomach twisting—not with hunger, but with something darker.
A test.
Everything was a test with Azech-I.
Still, he had no choice but to play the game.
Slowly, he sank onto the cushions beside the tray. The boy stepped back, waiting in silence.
"What is your name?" Nofri-it asked quietly.
The boy hesitated before answering, "Senek."
A common name. A safe name.
"Did he send you to watch me, Senek?"
The boy stiffened slightly, but to his credit, did not drop his gaze. "The Pharaoh only wishes to ensure your well-being."
A dry laugh escaped Nofri-it's lips. My well-being. Right. That was why he had been gifted golden shackles instead of chains.
He picked up a piece of fruit, rolling it between his fingers before taking a small, deliberate bite. Sweetness burst over his tongue, rich and decadent.
Azech-I always did have a taste for irony.
Setting the fruit down, he turned his attention back to the boy. "Tell me, Senek—what do they say about me, outside these walls?"
Senek's expression barely flickered, but Nofri-it caught the subtle tightening of his jaw.
"They say…" The boy hesitated. "They say you are a traitor."
Nofri-it hummed, unsurprised. "And what do you believe?"
Senek did not answer.
Clever boy.
Nofri-it gave him a small, tired smile. "You may leave."
Senek hesitated only a breath longer before bowing and retreating toward the door.
As it clicked shut behind him, the chamber fell into silence once more.
Nofri-it exhaled, staring at the untouched food, the golden cuffs gleaming on his wrists.
He had not been killed.
He had not been thrown back into the darkness.
No—Azech-I had something far crueler in mind.
He wanted to see how long it would take for Nofri-it to break.
But if the Pharaoh thought he would submit so easily…
He had underestimated the very thing he had once loved most about him.
Nofri-it had never been easy to tame.
To Be Continued...