She twirls a slender dagger in her hand, while Egypt’s Pharaoh drinks wine from a golden cup. Seth settles across his cushioned lounge, dark eyes locked firmly on Neferet’s twisting fingers. She sways slightly as she stands before the balcony entrance, the motions so small that not one of her many bracelets or anklets makes a whisper of sound. Her long coils of crimson hair waving back and forth like stalks of wheat in the wind.

Beautiful. Seth thinks. Dangerous. He knows, eyes catching the flash of the blade under the torchlight. Gaze tracing over the ornate symbols etched into the bronze skin of her arms. In his mind’s eye he recalls the way those lines and swirls could alight with white magic. Weapon and shield all in one at a simple twist of her fingers. A sacrifice of her flesh to save her breath, no words required for spells. No pause to summon whatever she required. Old and outlawed magic. A dead art in these lands, save for what lived beneath her skin. Yes, Neferet was as lovely as they came, but even desert roses bore sharp thorns.

Seth swirls his wine as Neferet continues to stare out into the cool night. Silent, feigning calm, but Seth sees the taut lines of muscle in her exposed limbs. Sees the way the blade comes just a hair too close to Neferet’s calloused fingers. The way it’s arc swings in the direction of her own neck. Seth hums, setting down his cup and rising to his feet. The dagger stops, it’s point balanced towards him. Neferet shifts, casting one eye over her delicate shoulder. The color more vibrant than his wine. He remembers when he used to fear those burning eyes. He remembers more vividly, the night he came to see past that haunting hue.

“Yes, my King?” Neferet asks. Her anklets tinkle as she shifts, her hand dropping, the blade pointed down. But Seth knows the loose grip is a façade. He’s seen the way Neferet could so swiftly twirl a blade and readjust her grip, lunging forward with all the deadliness of a cobra striking to kill.

Seth says nothing as he crosses the few feet between them. Neferet meets his eye for but a moment, then turns her head back out into the night. The blade twists, pointed down, away from the both of them. He stands just behind Neferet, one foot forward, turned towards her right shoulder. They breathe, staring out at the distant stars. The moon is bright and full tonight, bathing the city below in cool blues and greys where the shadows have not laid claim. It’s quite the view.

“Care to share your thoughts?” Seth asks, voice low. There’s no tension in the air, yet something bleeds off Neferet’s form, almost shimmering like a mirage now that he stands so close. The hair on his nape prickles. Whatever it is that occupies Neferet’s mind this night, it’s nothing good.

“Nothing worth the attention of a King,” Neferet whispers. “Only lingering phantom memories that will plague my mind no longer come morning. Nothing of concern, my Pharaoh,” she insists. Seth stares, very aware of the way Neferet uses his title. The way she talks, she retains her façade of a mindless obedient servant, despite being alone. Seth narrows his eyes, gaze lingering on her passive expression.

Since when has Neferet not been willing to speak her mind so bluntly when they are alone? Neferet is as treasured a companion as anyone could be. Seth trusted her more than anyone, and he knew she knew that. She’d teased him about it often enough.

“What faith!” She’d laughed, draped across the arm of his throne, nearly falling into his lap. “What would the people say of their Pharaoh to place such worth on such a lowly servant?” And she’d batted her lashes, eyes bright.

“They would say their King is right.” Seth had answered, smirking, chin propped up in his palm. “How the Gods must smile on him for being gifted such a loyal and powerful companion. How intelligent he must be to hold such a person in high regard.” Neferet had smiled then, so soft and vulnerable. She’d shut her eyes, twisting, and dropping to rest her head against Seth’s shoulder.

“And what have I done to be blessed with such an intelligent King?”

“Nothing but be yourself, Nef,” Seth whispered. “Nothing but show your loyalty to those you love. To have loved Him so dearly.” Neferet had shuddered, her face turned from Seth. Yet, she’d remained. Instead of slinking off into the shadows as she was wont to do, she pressed closer, her arm hot against his.

“He would be proud, Nef,” he’d said, remaining still. Neferet was always so easy to startle in the quiet. “He would.” Seth had insisted. Neferet hummed, turned back, and flashed him a damp smirk.

“He would be proud of you too, Seth.” She’d smiled, her hand pressed against his heart. “No one could have done better than him, but you fall close behind,” she’d teased. Seth had swallowed, frozen by the intensity of her eyes. Harsh crimson softened, and for a moment, Seth could see how his cousin had fallen for someone as dangerous and forbidden as Neferet.

“What has this King done to hold your loyalty?” He’d frozen the moment the words left his lips. Seth hadn’t meant to ask. He hadn’t meant step out and test the recently made bridge between them. Neferet removed her hand, tangling her own fingers in her lap.

“The King has not,” Neferet had answered. “But you Seth,” she’d taken a deep breath and shut those burning eyes. “You have my loyalty. You are more than a King. You are a cousin, a loyal and just man. You are clever, and kinder than what I had ever expected.” Again, she’d pinned him with her gaze. “He’d loved you so much, Seth. Trusted you. No one else could have taken the throne. He trusted no one else with his Kingdom, with his people.” She’d dropped her gaze. A bitter laugh fell from her lips.

“Speak,” Seth whispered in the heavy air. She wasn’t finished, and he wanted to hear the rest. “You can always speak your mind to me, Neferet.” His fingers twitched, not quite daring to reach out before she said he could.

“He trusted you with our secret. He trusted you to care for me in his absence.” She smiled. Small and fragile but true. “You know I care not for those of higher status, but I trust you, Seth.” Softened eyes stole his breath as Neferet pressed close again, not hesitating to press her forehead against Seth’s. “The clever boy who prefers books to people. Who saw his cousin sneaking off with a peasant bearing forbidden magic and said nothing. Who judged his King not for falling in love with someone so beneath him. I trust you, Seth. I trust you with my life, as I trusted him with my heart.”

“You were never beneath him, Neferet. You are beneath no one.” Seth had breathed, shivering as he pressed back. Meeting Neferet halfway. A bond had formed that day. One that would dare him to speak out for her. One that would dare her to stand before a blade meant for his own heart. They’d lost themselves together, in those precious minutes before they had to return to their assigned roles. Two souls bound by the loss of a man, a King, they had loved.

Seth blinks, returning to the present, realization dawning.

His arm curls around Neferet, pulling her close. His hand splays across her bare belly. Neferet shivers minutely as Seth takes the dagger from her unresisting fingers. He turns it in his palm, feeling the warm metal. In one smooth motion, he holds the edge to Neferet’s slender throat. Her head presses against his collarbone, her soft hair a slim barrier between them.

“Are you so willing to join Him after so little time?” Seth asks. Neferet shivers, gaze remaining straight ahead. Seth wonders what those shivering pupils see out in the vast darkness. Wonders who they see. “Would you really abandon his people so soon, Nef?” She growls under her breath, low and animalistic. A shift of her head, and those dark crimson eyes stare up through those scant inches between them. Narrowed, flickering with an undercurrent of white-hot magic. Seth dares not move. He will not back down. His words are cruel, but they are true, and he’d promised no lies between them. Not after everything they’d suffered through.

Barely a year since the late Pharaoh passed. Torn from their lives in one cruel swipe of a blade. His King, his friend, his beloved cousin. How Seth missed him, but he knew in his heart he could not miss him more than Neferet. She had loved him more than anything in life, and that love remained a scorching inferno in her heart. Binding her to this Kingdom. Even though he is far beyond her reach.

“Tread lightly, your Highness,” Neferet hisses. “I may have sworn my loyalty, I have accepted you as Pharaoh, but I will not suffer quietly when you speak out of turn yourself. I am not someone so eager to accept cruelty, status be damned.” Slowly, Seth nods. Brazen even with a blade at her throat. Yes, there’s the Neferet he knows. There’s the woman he charged with his personal safety, with his fears and worries. Yet he can’t help but notice she makes no move to break his hold. Neferet trembles, yet remains close, despite how easily she could break free.

“I mean not to be cruel, Nef.” Seth lowers the blade but does not return it. Not yet. “See it from my point of view: watching you swing a blade so close to yourself. How could I not assume you mean harm? I will not begrudge grief, but I will judge you for even thinking of ending your own life.” Neferet tenses under his hand, plump lips pressed into a thin line. Seth sees moisture begin to gather in her eyes before Nef breaks his hold and steps out onto the balcony.

Seth sets down the blade against a nearby table before joining her. They brace against the rail, side by side, the cold night air ruffling their clothes.

“I cannot lose you too, Neferet,” Seth whispers. He glances at her, face falling at the silent tears trailing down her cheeks. “I do not mean to place so much on you, but I need you. Here and whole. This kingdom needs you,” Seth reaches out, laying his hand upon her shoulder, feeling the heat of her magic just beneath the surface. “And he would not want you to forsake your life. He loved you too much, Neferet.” Neferet quakes beneath his hand. “You are not alone in your grief, Nef. You are not alone.” She meets his gaze, eyes bright in sorrow.

“I miss him,” she sobs. Her hands clutch at her arms tightly, nails digging to flesh. “I miss him so much, Seth.” She bows her head, the curtain of red hiding her eyes. Seth pulls her into his arms. Neferet turns, she clutches at his shoulders, her warm forehead pressing hard against his collarbone. She sobs so quietly, the sound so loud in the silence of the night.

“As do I, Nef.” Seth sighs, swallowing the burning behind his own eyes. He closes his eyes, resting against the crown of her head. “As do I.”

And for this moment at least, the Pharaoh and his secret Guard are simply Seth and Neferet. Two souls mourning their shared loss under the judgeless sky, pressing close for comfort, silently promising to live.