The Pharaoh’s Favorite novel Chapter 22

The scrolls in the harem’s library had revealed nothing new about the prophecy, about my connection to Isis, or about the curse that bound Amen.

The palace walls felt like they were closing in on me. Three days had passed since I last saw Amen, and the weight of unanswered questions pressed against my chest like stone.

I paced my chambers as midnight approached, my fingers absently tracing the ankh birthmark beneath my robes. The mark that had brought me here, that had entangled my fate with his.

My mind kept circling back to the secret passage we’d used before, the one that led straight to the Temple of Isis.

“Just this once,” I whispered to myself, gathering my courage. “Just to find answers.”

The palace was silent at this hour, wrapped in the hush of sleeping bodies and the distant rustle of the Nile’s gentle waves. Even the Golden House, usually teeming with whispers and soft footfalls, lay still beneath the watchful stars.

It was the perfect time to leave.

The night air wrapped around me like a cold embrace as I slipped through the palace corridors. Every shadow seemed to watch, every distant footstep made my heart stutter. But the gods must have favored me – I encountered no one as I made my way to the hidden entrance.

My heart pounded against my ribs as I slipped through the hidden passageway. It was the same route Amen had shown me before, the path winding through the bowels of the palace, long forgotten by most. Every shadow felt alive, every creak of stone beneath my sandals sent a thrill of fear through my spine.

The tunnel felt different without Amen beside me. Darker. More threatening. My hands trembled as they traced the rough stone walls, remembering how his touch had steadied me here before.

But I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t wait for him to give me answers. Not anymore.

I’ve already waited for far too long and I still had no answers. No sign of Amen. No explanation for the rituals. No clarity on what was happening to him, to me, to the women in the Golden House. Heket’s threats, Meritaten’s cold devotion, the rituals that left them all in pain—it all felt like pieces of a puzzle I wasn’t meant to solve.

But I would. I had to.

I reached the temple district without incident, the air thick with incense and distant murmurs of priests offering midnight prayers. The Temple of Isis loomed before me, its grand columns rising like the arms of the goddess herself.

Stuffing them into the folds of my robes, I turned back the way I came, weaving through the temple corridors with only one thought in my mind—get back before dawn.