CHAPTER 04 ──

───

Him?

Slave?

Hers?

NO WAY.

Seokjin looks away scoffing at the reasoning he had for becoming her slave. His hand was over his mouth while he rolls his eyes sitting on the Egyptian bed he was given a few minutes ago. Even if it's that, he couldn't deny the fact she was hot.

He mischievously smiles waving his hand and trying to stop himself from looking like a maniac who needed an asylum real quick. People in his time would've thought he's exhibiting the symptoms of a mental illness. He has to stop smiling thinking about her.

What if she's the one who was involved in his teleportation? This is ancient Egypt. People believed in magic and superstitions. His teleportation was for sure something not related to science.

The people around him from here could be the one who'd have done something. He was given a little food since they said at night, there would be a large feast especially kept for him. His clothes? He didn't want to change into the Egyptian clothing men wore and walk around half naked. He'd be embarrassed as heck being naked in front of women. Keeping the word naked aside, he still had his transparent shirt on when the woman winked at him. He shivers hugging himself remembering the terrifying memory. He didn't want that again.

NEVER.

He had been so stubborn on not wanting to be naked, he was finally given a shirt that was made in a hurry for him after the order from the pharaoh of Egypt. He was also told there were pants that were designed for English men that would visit Egypt one day.

Consequently, he's wearing a shirt tied using ropes near his collarbone and it clearly had no buttons. He had seen on the internet how royals and noblemen actually wore this in their time while sword fighting or going out for something minor. His shirt was white and his pants were black. He felt surprisingly amazing after wearing some dry clothes and getting out off that wet shirt. He had done so much drama an hour ago, since twenty women had entered the room going to strip him and help him in his bath. He was literally going to jump off the window and never come back here. They had walked away after he had cleared it, he wanted to bath alone.

He slowly but steadily turns to the guy who was with him in the throne room before and who'd ignored him all the time as he gestures him to come near him.

The man who stood with his hands behind his back in his position frowns turning in his direction. He had been surreptitiously watching his weird behavior for some time now. There was no one other than them in this room since this man was especially sent to keep an eye on him, and he knew that. He didn't care because he was given a room that was for guest from another country. It was great for him. He didn't want to live on the streets on Egypt and die from sunburn. He could get melanoma, man.

An advantage of her having the false impression of him being an English nobleman was he could order this conceited bastard around.

The man walks to his golden bed from the door as he bows keeping a fist to his chest, "Sire." He was told to address him like that. That was a merit too. Seokjin definitely wasn't cackling in his mind feeling superior.

He gravely keeps his fingers to his nose closing his eyes shut as he smugly waves his hand, "I had asked you what year is it?" He turns to the guy who answers pridefully stomping a feet to the ground.

"60 BC." Oh.

WHAT—

"WHAT?!" He leaps off the bed startled by the servant's reply. The servant flinches surprised because of his actions.

His mouth hangs open as he steps forward, "What is the name of your pharaoh?" His eyes are wide, which felt like they'd pop out of their sockets. The man's gaze is still down and his hand falls as he keeps them both intertwined together responding after a certain contemplation.

"She's our O' mighty—" He tries to say, nevertheless, Seokjin's shows his palm knowing how servants used to address their kings and queens of Egypt in a long way.

"Get to the point." He runs his hand through his face waiting for the man in front of him to say it already.

"Isis II Philopator."

── 𓆣 ──

She sat on the floor. Her white dress had been spread in all directions for her prayers to the sun that was currently going down. Her hands were stretched towards the sky as she had her eyes closed. Her hair reached her shoulders whilst she focused and did her best for her prayers. She sat on her knees, her head was empty having no crown on top of it as a way to show her humbleness to her god.

The space was open and had walls on either side except the side she was faced in front of.

"Isis!" A male voice shouts, although, she doesn't deem it important to interrupt her prayers for anyone. The male approaches her taking a seat beside as he looks at her and waits for her to end her prayers. He's breathing heavily since he had ran all the way from the entrance in a hurry. He wore a black clothing on top that was similar to a tank top, while having worn a black skirt down with a waist band.

After a period of time, she slowly flutters her eyes open turning to the man, "What is it, brother?" The man pants rubbing his hands over his face.

"There's no nobleman that has arrived Egypt and is an envoy from the English." She silently nods at her brother standing up from her place with her gaze down.

"I know." She declares, turning and walking towards a wall to take her headpiece that was kept over a table. She first washes her hands through the large bowl of water that was kept beside her headpiece. She takes a cloth wiping her hands using it as she keeps it back and touches her headpiece next to keep it where it belonged; her head.

"Then why did you let him stay here? He could be a hazard to us Egyptians. How did he even have English clothing when he isn't related? Did he steal it from somewhere—" He gets interrupted by the woman who walks towards her door without sparing a glance to the man that stood behind.

"Let's not talk about this again. Or else I don't want you dead. Do not think of betraying me. You know the consequences of going against your queen, Abrax." That was a clear warning to the man who stood still while she walks away gesturing her servants to follow her. He stood alone in the prayer room that has started filling with the flaxen light of the sunset happening as if it was because of her prayers.

── 𓆣 ──

Isis?

He scratches his non-existent beard in thought. His eyes are down as he's sitting on the same bed. The man was back in his position near the main door.

Seokjin's eyes were down while he had his hands on either side of himself.

Isis.

He had read about the pharaoh somewhere. She had some lover. Was it one? Two? It felt like there were two husbands of hers that she seduced—Uh-Uh, enchanted. He remembered about her reign. It was better than other pharaohs since Egypt was at its best in her time. Had riches and was high in demand. She was known to be a merciless queen and someone who had the longest reign in all the female pharaohs. He was curious about her husbands. Who were they?

Merciless? She didn't seem merciless. She seemed cold. As if she hid all her emotions inside her heart and locked them up.

Uh—she could be cruel. Since he was in the same bath of several cows' or donkeys' milk. Queens would still have sympathy on animals, she didn't seem to. Why would she have so much milk to bath? Because she cared about herself, more than other living beings.

He felt perilous. How could he be in the same palace of a queen like that? What if she knows he isn't some nobleman from the English? He'll be in trouble—he'll be killed.

Fuck.

Who would want to die? He didn't too. Egyptian pharaohs weren't so sympathetic for someone unknown. Why would she let him live?

He grips his hair feeling distressed thinking about the outcome of his actions.

Should he say it? Should he say it face to face that he isn't some noble and is someone who teleported to the past? Being truthful won't hurt, right? Nope, it'll directly kill.

He massages his face in contemplation. She was known to be someone who couldn't be fooled by any living being that's why she sat on the throne killing all her siblings.

It wasn't because the siblings wanted her throne. It was because the siblings had played a game to kill her father who wanted her to be queen. Her father didn't want his children to be killed and since he was dead, she didn't think it quite important for his words to be followed.

He's saying it. He'll tell her he isn't a nobleman and she's mistaken.

UGHHH!

Should he just keep quiet?

Seokjin clenched his eyes shut.

Conclusion is, he'll tell it if he thinks it's important. If he gets a pinch of a hint that she knows he isn't someone she thinks he is.

How will he even go back? He wanted to.

It all started with that dream. Him dreaming about his crush. He unconsciously lays on his bed.

Should he continue his dream to go back?

Let's try this foolish attempt.

He slowly closes his eyes, seeing her standing in front of him. She tucks her hair behind her ear shyly as she slowly unlatches her lips. She wore a white shirt and blue skirt with a blue coat. Seokjin had his typical working clothes on that meant the same teal green suit that he had worn before teleporting here. Let him imagine it to the depth cause he missed his suit. She opens her mouth slowly looking up.

"Seok—"

She had tried to say, something that he'd really wanted to hear, although the voice from outisde his head said something else, "Sire, it's time for the fea-"

"FUCK YOU!"

── 𓆣 ──