He left her knowing that there was nothing he could do. In these moments, when Maathorneferure was a few steps ahead of him, there was nothing to do but retreat. With a smile and light movements in tow, of course – even if none of it wanted to suit him.

Playing by her rules was out of the question, and yet the only option left to him. At least until he had a plan to prove to her they were better off going their separate ways. It couldn’t be that hard. Even Ramesses, he only saw when he found a seat in the throne room. Away from it, his king was usually untraceable.

With a sigh, Assou ran his fingers through the black hair that nestled close to his skin. It was obvious he had to put one foot in front of the other and that no matter what Maathorneferure said, he couldn’t let himself be dissuaded. Nothing else mattered. On days like these, he had to think in small steps.

Still, the Third Great Royal Queen’s words kept coursing through his senses. She wanted him to call her by name when she won her game. A demand he didn’t know if it was part of the game or merely a sadistic plot to bring him to his knees. Most people would hardly think of anything but her name. They would imagine how they would pronounce it when the time came. But all those thoughts were nothing more than the first step to defeat.

Assou had to put some distance between them.

If she wanted to fight a war that was just a simple game, that was exactly what she was going to get. She wasn’t a challenge. She was a queen who slept in a bed that had been made, standing by the side of a man who had been chosen by the gods to lead this country.

His thoughts broke off when he caught sight of Amenti’s black fur at his door. The glow left by the torches on her hair was magical, stealing away negative thoughts and leaving the tjati in a floating void.

“I see you, too, have returned from your journey.” His steps slowed as he approached the cat. She, meanwhile, simply looked at him. The green diamonds in her head gleamed in the dull glow, and her soft mewing nestled against the long shadows of the walls.

Slowly, the vizier went to his knees and reached out to her, hoping she would show him kindness. But all she gave him were watchful eyes that followed his every move. She was a stubborn creature who followed his every move.

“I’m afraid I have nothing to give you. Not yet.” He raised his index finger. “But if you wait, I’ll have some food brought to us.”

She didn’t reply. Of course she didn’t. Instead, Amenti waited. She didn’t even move as Assou stood over her and opened the door. Her gentle little paws carried her inside, and he had no choice but to follow.

Arriving in his room had something lonely about it compared to Maathorneferure’s. A plain interior was enough for him. There was this low table where he could sit down on the floor, believing he could think better that way. A few simple paintings on the walls marked his position and shimmered in bright colours. The furnishings had always remained minimal, so as not to be distracting. The writings were more important than the magnificent walls. In addition, the shelves full of papyrus covered part of the painstakingly applied art.

Still, the direct comparison with the Great Royal Queen’s chamber was sobering.

The only thing in which it was in no way inferior to that of Maathorneferure was the size. There was enough space for ten people to talk comfortably. He could sleep in this room. If he had wanted to, he could have easily put a bed and some boxes between the shelves and the table. Maybe even a small tree, lovingly held in a pot.

The colours in Maathorneferure’s bedchamber breathed life compared to his workroom. Being back sucked the atmosphere empty. Time slowed, his breathing noticeably calmer – and he realised why he preferred the minimalist. Nothing had changed about it in all this time, even if it seemed sadder than the colourfulness of the others.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

The unexpected knock on his door made the tjati turn on his heel and open the barrier in the same breath. What met his gaze were the dark eyes of a slave.

“My lord, I saw you had returned to your study. Have you already dined?”

“I haven’t. Tell the cooks to bring me something,” Assou replied, before glancing at the cat. “A little meat for Amenti would be a welcome side dish.”

“I will pass it on.” Hastily, the slave bowed before turning and heading quickly for the kitchen at the other end of the palace. Assou only vaguely remembered the well-kept interior there. His duties had rarely taken him to the kitchen. It was Bintanath who watched the activity of the cooks there. Her passion for good food didn’t allow for a bad course.

Leisurely, Assou finally left the entrance and circled his low table to take a seat behind it. The flat cushion on which he usually sat seemed a little puffier than usual and the peace in his body was no longer waiting. A quick look at the papyrus scrolls reminded him of the stone slab that had been left for him. The wordless message he still couldn’t relate to anyone.

Without further ado, he pulled it out from under the stacked scrolls to take another look. Perhaps the inscription was so tiny that he had missed it. The stone was heavy in his hands, weighing no less than when he had picked it up. But despite everything, there was a change. The surface was no longer empty. Someone had taken the trouble to hammer in symbols during his absence. Beautiful, neat images, reminiscent of art. But the question he was asked raised uncertainties.

Do you want to win this game?

He shaped the words with his lips, trying to find meaning in them, and failed the very moment Amenti mewed, the twitch reaching across his body. His fingers tightened their grip on the stone as he hastily lifted his gaze and spotted the cat on his table.

Her eyes asked the same question as the stone slab in his hands. An illusion, he knew. They didn’t speak the same language and probably every word he imagined was nothing more than just that – imagination.

“What do you want from me?” Hopelessly, he raised his brows and put the stone slab aside to reach out to Amenti. Sure enough, she remained seated and let him touch her, allowing the fur to pour a little peace into him before the renewed knock on the door demanded his attention. “I think the food is here.”

As he rose to his feet, Amenti looked after him. Assou thought he felt her eyes on his body even as he stood with his back to her, opening the door for the slave. Anything was better than dealing with the strange question on the stone. The man who scurried through the doorway thanked him with a slight bow as the wooden tray shook in his hands. His careful steps brought him straight to the table, where he placed the food between the papyrus and the cat. The smell of roasted sheep hung in the air, while bread and fruit piled up on the tray next to the meat. Assou recognised grapes without looking closely, and the peach wedges weren’t hidden either.

His eyes fixed on the hummus, while a female slave entered with a quiet apology on her lips and provided a jug of wine with a cup. They knew he preferred to take his meals alone, to stare down his work on the side. That was the only reason they didn’t wait near him and instead retreated into the corridor. Silence fell, and only the furtive munching of Amenti drew attention.

Assou’s eyes rushed to the cat, who had already dipped her nose into the sheep meat and was sucking up the pink fibres as if they were liquid. Her slurping banished him for a moment before he too shuffled back to the table and settled down to protect some of the food from Amenti. She acknowledged it with a purr. Friendly and grateful, so Assou pushed a bit more meat under her nose.

Her company was a nice change, warm around his shoulders as the fruit disappeared and the meat was used up. Only when the bread was left on the wood did Assou lean back. The dust-dry stuff that had no taste had disgusted him even as a child. Not even Amenti dared to touch the bone-hard piece of wheat, so it was left alone on the platter, which Assou grabbed barely later to set down in front of the door. He knew that somewhere within reach, a slave was waiting for this action. They weren’t particularly good at hiding.

But he barely got to close the door when Amenti swept through his legs. Her sly paws made a gallant leap over the scraps of food and landed silently in the corridor. Then she turned to him, sat down and stared.

“What is it?” He couldn’t stop talking to her, even if it was futile. Still, hope kept sprouting, and it was never completely disappointed. Not even this time, when Amenti stood up and took a few steps to the side before looking at him again.

“Do you want me to follow you? But where?” He didn’t wait for another sign. Instead, he automatically started moving, so the door slammed shut behind him.

Amenti directed him outside, where the air hung heavy in his lungs. The heat still had a firm grip on the land, although the sun had long since set and darkness had arrived in every crack of the city. Only scattered lights glimmered in houses – next to the fire pots that had been placed to light the paths. Soon these flames too would be extinguished and nothing but the cloak of night would remain.