The Pharaoh’s Favorite novel Chapter 51

The moment I stepped into the Golden House, a strange feeling settled in my gut—an unease I couldn’t quite shake.

I moved quickly through the corridors, my mind still caught in the whirlwind of everything we had seen and experienced within the dream.

But even as exhaustion tugged at my limbs, I remained alert. Something told me that the peace of this night would not last.

I was nearly at my chambers when a figure stepped into my path, blocking my way.

Heket.

She stood with her arms crossed, her expression unreadable, save for the flicker of satisfaction in her dark eyes. I barely slowed my steps. I didn’t have the patience for her venom tonight.

“How curious,” she drawls, tilting her head, eyes glinting in the flickering torchlight. “You disappear in the middle of the night, and now you return just before dawn.” Her voice is smooth, laced with mock intrigue. “One might wonder where you’ve been, Neferet.”

“Where have you been?” she demanded, voice laced with accusation. “It’s late.”

I met her gaze with cold indifference. “That is none of your business.”

I moved to brush past her, but she shifted, stepping directly into my path again. Her lips curled into a smirk—dangerous, knowing.

“One might also wonder why you care so much about my movements,” I said, not troubled by the harsh tone of my voice.

Her smirk widens, as if she was hoping I would say that.

“Oh, I don’t,” she assures me, her tone falsely sweet. “But you are drawing quite a bit of attention these days, aren’t you?” She takes a deliberate step closer, lowering her voice. “These are troubling times for Egypt. Soon, danger will lurk at every corner. Even the Golden House won’t be safe. Not for those who stand out. Not for those who are… important.”

The air between us tenses, her words laced with something darker than mere spite. A warning. A threat.

I force myself to remain unmoved, lifting my chin in defiance. “If you’re trying to frighten me, Heket, you’ll have to try harder.”

She lets out a low, throaty chuckle. “Oh, Neferet. Frightening you would be far too easy.” Her fingers brush against the sheer fabric of my sleeve, a mockery of affection. “But breaking you? That would be far more satisfying.”

I step back, my blood running hot. I could slap her. I could carve a sharp retort into her pride and walk away victorious. But I don’t. I refuse to let her see how deeply her words sink into my mind.

“Then you will have to do better than cryptic whispers.” Without another glance, I turned and walked away from her.

But as I reached my chambers and closed the door behind me, my fingers trembled slightly at my sides.

It was no empty threat. The next few days proved that.

It begins as whispers in the night.

At first, I ignored them. The palace walls carry voices, sometimes amplifying distant murmurs, making them seem closer than they truly are.

The first incident came in the form of a falling clay pot. I had been walking through one of the side courtyards, mind lost in thought, when something inside me screamed to move.

I barely stepped aside in time before the massive vessel crashed to the ground where I had just been standing, shattering into hundreds of jagged pieces. The servants rushed in, gasping in alarm.

A freak accident, they claimed. A coincidence.

I knew better.

Then came the scorpion, nestled between the sheets of my bed. I had been about to slip beneath them when I caught the faintest glimmer of movement.

I froze.

Another accident.