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In the moment of silence after her declaration, when their eyes met across the throne room, she thought she might die right there on the spot because her heart had surely stopped beating, her lungs seizing up.
In a dizzying daze she somehow carried on the charade to ask where he would go, all the while a cold sweat pooled in the valley of her back and beneath her arms.
In her mind, she repeated a litany of prayers to every merciful god:
Please don’t leave me. Please stay.
Even if you no longer wish to guard me, just be in a place that I know, that I can visit from time to time.
Just to reassure myself that you are here. That I can still reach you if I wanted to. If you allowed me to.
Please don’t go…
Please, please, please don’t go…
She had not dared hope for the answer he ultimately gave. She never planned that he would not only remain her personal protector, but that he would establish his own power as a natural leader of men, of the most elite warriors within the Pharoah’s guard.
She was in awe of him every day. This man that she didn’t deserve. She was humbled by his unwavering loyalty and faith in her.
And she wanted him, wanted him,wanted him.
She flipped onto her stomach, trapping the pillow beneath her overheated body and buried her face in the coverings, muffling a frustrated, helpless scream.
What was the point of discovering her womanhood if she could not have the one man she desired—needed—above all others?
Chapter Seven
“We don't even know how strong we are until we are forced to bring that hidden strength forward.”
—Isabel Allende
“I want to learn how to fight.”
Shai turned slowly around from the warriors gathered before him for their daily training to face Heba.
It had been three weeks since the last thwarted attempt on the Pharoah’s life. She’d seemed much calmer, back to her usual, unreadable self. Thus, this sudden request was unexpected.
He gave her all due consideration, looking steadily back at her from his much greater height. He was so big, and she, so small, that his shadow eclipsed her entirely from the afternoon sun.
But before he could reply, the tiny warrior at his side piped up.
“Mama, you a girl!” the boy Pharaoh said with little fists on his little hips, not yet mature in his speech.
“Girls don’t fight!”
She stood solemnly with her hands clasped before her and said to him, “Thutmose, come here.”
He went, shuffling to her as she crouched down to his height.
In a soft whisper that only she, the boy and Shai could hear, she said, “Remember what I taught you, Ehab. I am ‘Mama’ only in private. Only when we are alone. Here, under the sun, I am your Regent, and you are my King. Do you understand?”
Chastised, he looked at her with rounded puppy eyes and nodded.
“What do you call me?” she asked.
“Hatasu,” he answered dutifully.
She gave one nod of confirmation and rose to her feet again.
