“Isn’t the sight of her what fulfils you?” The smile on her face played with him. “Here, I’ll give you everything you ever wanted. All you have to do is be the animal you are deep down inside.”
“I’m amazed you’re wasting so much time trying to find out everything about me.” Slowly, the tjati shifted his weight onto one leg and lowered his eyelids. Whatever was going through this woman’s mind, it couldn’t be good. It seemed she had been persuaded that he was the only valuable target in this palace.
“I’ve told you before. You’re not the only one with eyes and ears everywhere,” she replied before leaning back. Her attention stared down at him from above and the certainty she wouldn’t give him more than two more breaths clung to her lips. “And now I’m ready to give you what you crave.”
For a moment, he waited. She allowed him the silence, the uncertainty, the knowledge she’d give him something without rubbing it in right away. She enjoyed the fact of making him wait. Him, a man of status, who shouldn’t let himself be dominated in this way and who still had nothing to oppose her with.
Only when the breathing of some slaves became restless and the sighing at his feet had ceased; when no one made a sound, did Maathorneferure reach out a hand to him. “Give her a few wonderful minutes, buried under your body and forced to cheat on her late spouse with you.”
“No.” The rejection came over him faster than he could realise. Refusing her didn’t get him one step closer, and yet there was no question of laying a hand on Fatrada. His eyes fastened on her exhausted body and the first thing he noticed were the soft, brown eyes with which she looked at him. In those breaths, she didn’t hate him. She was no longer angry with him and maybe, just maybe, she even felt a bit of gratitude for him defying Maathorneferure.
“Since when are you so shy, Vizier? You took the last two slaves I gave you with pleasure, didn’t you?”
It was no lie, and yet Assou’s gaze kept darting back and forth between the queen and Fatrada. But there was no change in Fatrada’s eyes and Maathorneferure didn’t hide a thing. Everyone in the room wouldn’t say a word about anything - not least because the only thing behind a confession was death.
“Slave?” Without further ado, the third Great Royal Queen turned to Fatrada. “Undress.”
Fatrada’s eyes widened. Her features lost their composure, and though she knew she could say nothing in return, she lingered on the ground a moment longer, hoping Maathorneferure would take her words back. But the silence she consumed ate through to Fatrada’s bones as well. So slowly that she barely got to her feet.
Her trembling body betrayed her and even though she was the most beautiful woman Assou knew, even though he wanted nothing more than to possess her, he looked away. His gaze clung to the queen as the soft, rubbing sound reached his ears and the silence afterwards lingered mind-numbing in his flesh.
She deserved that respect. In those breaths, no part of the greed in him was great enough to let her fall this far.
“Is she not ... acceptable?” Maathorneferure gave him another of her smiles. “Just look at her.”
“No,” Assou returned once more, only to see the corners of her mouth twitch downwards. Her enthusiasm was limited, and yet she wasn’t ready to give him the choice. She still had a threat for him and, even if it seemed a little like unfounded hope, he dared to take a breath.
“You’re stubborn,” she finally remarked, before separating their crossed legs and placing them gracefully side by side. “I’ll give you that part. You amaze me, Vizier.”
Control. Something he had learnt from his father. Life was all about self-control, something he’d once lost somewhere between Fatrada and the market, but which lingered deep within him like an anchor at this moment. Resisting lust wasn’t difficult if you didn’t let it enter your mind. Above everything Maathorneferure offered, concern for Fatrada loomed high. Worry that kept him from admitting defeat.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Is that all you wanted from me?” Without batting an eyelid, the tjati kept his eyes on her. Maathorneferure wasn’t a woman who could simply be pushed away. Either she won or she took the things she wanted by force. He wouldn’t escape, he knew that, and yet his heart pounded like a drum in his chest.
“Not in the slightest,” she replied softly. “But I think I’ll make you an offer today.” Her giggle was reminiscent of a snake’s hiss. “Choose between me and your dearest Fatrada.”
A little honour or the end of a hope. The first thought that came over him was exactly the one he was left with. Choosing wasn’t the most challenging part of the situation, but saying it was all the more complicated. The answer stuck to his tongue like honey, and all the eyes in the room shared his unease.
He opened his mouth, closed it silently, swallowed and tried again. “If I have to choose, my pick is you, Maathorneferure.”
The smile on her lips widened before she brushed her long hair to one side. “How could it have been otherwise? I’m not the most beautiful woman in Egypt for nothing.”
He wanted to counter, but she raised her hand faster than he could find the words. “Go get your reward.”
She didn’t give him time to think clearly and, in the same vein, didn’t care about making things easier for him. She spread her legs wide enough to give him a clear view of flawless skin. It was an unspoken request that she forced upon him without letting him mislead her for a single second. She didn’t send Fatrada away, nor did she care about the people in the room. They probably already knew nobody would ever find out about all this.
Assou reluctantly pushed himself forward. His feet shuffled across the floor and the strange listlessness gripping him made every muscle as heavy as stone. Nothing in him wanted to give in to this woman, no matter how beautiful she was. She didn’t have what Fatrada had. There was no charm, no real beauty. She was nothing more than a doll that excited him less than the slaves. Feeling the skin of the other two women had made them real. Taking Maathorneferure by the thigh, however, sent a shiver down his spine.
“You are free to show me why the gods have gifted you with a tongue.” With a dismissive wave of her hand, she leant back and looked for a relaxed position where she could still watch him.
In these breaths, he was nothing more than breeding stock begging for his life. The thought made him clench his teeth before he took a breath and tried to compose himself. All her ideas were worthless. And even if his beloved was watching, the circumstances were better than what he’d been offered elsewhere. Fatrada deserved more than that. She deserved to be loved, away from the masses - as a person and not as a spectacle.
Slowly, the tjati approached Maathorneferure’s wet centre. Her desire brought him to his knees, his gaze lowered, and her soft scent nestled against his perception. Looking up and countering her gaze would get him nowhere. Looking into her mocking eyes would only make his defeat more present. It was better if the world sank into the background. No one stayed, no one looked at him. The shameful silence in the room ebbed away. He was completely irrelevant.
His lips approached Maathorneferure at foreseeable intervals. Even if Fatrada had to watch, she would understand. She was a smart woman; one who knew when something wasn’t going the way it should. Closing his eyes and tuning out Maathorneferure, seeing Fatrada in her place, was all it took to make the situation more passionate.
Then, suddenly, his lips settled on her vulva and gave her a kiss before he spread her with his fingers and let his tongue glide over the pink flesh. The scent of roses settled in his nose, combining with the sweet flavour of creamy lust, while a playful sigh came through to him in the background. A sound whose high, soft tone travelled through the room like the whistling of the wind. As if the gods were putting words into light gusts to tell the world something.
Assou let himself be guided by the noise, listening to the sound of a satisfied woman whose thighs spread wider as his tongue penetrated her deeper. In quick movements, his muscle twisted inside her, probing every inch of her being, tasting the strange sweetness while the moisture made breathing difficult. The heat between her legs soaked the oxygen, pressing into his lungs so relentlessly he thought he was losing his senses. But his perception remained clear. No one was letting him escape. Instead, heavy chains bound him to this place as his tongue slid over her lower lips, circling the small pearl, making Maathorneferure twitch. Her sighs became steadier. Fabric rustled and the silence behind crushed him.
Until there was nothing left of him.
The thought shot through his head like a memorial, clinging to his body with an amused laugh and dragging him further down. Far into a depth where his emotions only penetrated him as if through cotton wool. His body seemed to go limp. Nothing stimulated the cells inside him further. Nothing lured him out of his safety. In the darkness, he was untouchable. Safe enough not to want more than what he was given. The sweet taste was nothing more than that: sweet. What he did was just a simple task, a will he complied with. A desire to sink him into the depths.