Normally, people with a temperament like Bailey's would be, by consensus, considered to be one of the violent sort. Bailey never thought herself one, not until she arrived in Ancient Egypt that was.

Her entire world was turned upside down, inside out and she was expected to follow every single rule and regulation that was given to her. She had very much the mind to defy every single one of them, especially if they were all going to be such sticks in the mud about it.

She was the sort that being chastised about something, no matter how small, without being told what she was doing wrong caused her to get angry and usually when she got angry she tended to hit people. Hard. Her mother had always reminded her that sometimes violence wasn't the answer. But given her current situation she thought that maybe her mother would forgive her if she became violent. Just this once.

As she sat on the floor of the balcony, leaning back against the wall, images of her family and friends flashed before her mind. Each one was as if she were looking at a photo album. Tears spilled down her face as she thought of her friends. Were they pulled into Ancient Egypt as well? If so, were they alright? Were they hurt or were they somewhere safe? She wondered if she would ever see them again.

Bailey had half the mind to try and escape the palace again, even though the King's threat rang in her ears. Would he really go through with it? What she recalled from her history books told her yes. Personally, she had absolutely no idea. He had shown some leniency with her, perhaps his threat had been empty words.

Would it be a good idea if she tried?

Probably not. It was as if she was stuck between a rock, a hard place, and knee deep in super glue.

Bailey gritted her teeth as an insatiable surge of helpless frustration overtook her. Unshed tears blurred her vision and she cried out with pent up anger as she punched the stone floor.

Pain shot up through her knuckles and into her wrist and, for a moment, all the frustration and anger she felt for her situation ebbed away as she berated herself for her childishness.

"You are quite troublesome by yourself, are you not?" Bes' amused voice rang through her thoughts, momentarily distracting her from the pain in her hand. The expression he wore fell immediately upon seeing her state. He walked over to her, carefully taking her hand, examining it. He looked at her face. "What happened?"

"I was angry and punched the floor. What's it to you?" She snapped angrily, taking her arm away from him as she cradled it closely to her chest.

"Woman, you need to learn how to speak to those that could order your ultimate demise if they so choose." Bes growled out between clenched teeth. "What made you so upset that you felt the need to punch the floor?"

"This." She gestured around her. "This entire fucking situation I'm in. I want to go home. I'm just... I'm scared."

Once again tears formed and began falling down her face. God, how she wished her mother was there. She just wanted to be held and comforted. She just wanted her mother. She drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, no longer caring that he was there as her entire body shook from both the pain and her own self-pity. It was silly, wanting her mother like a lost, little child. "I want my mother and I know damned well that even if I did find a way home, she would not be there."

"Why do you say that?"

"She died a couple years ago," she answered in a small voice.

Bes, with a small amount of hesitance, placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder. It was apparently all that she needed as she shot for him, burying her face into his shoulder and allowed herself to let it all go. All the emotions she had buried for a long time poured out of her.

Bes knelt there, pulling Bailey into an embrace as he did his best to comfort her. He did not say anything, and honestly, she was grateful that he didn't. Moments passed and her sobs were only coming out in small sniffles as she slowly pulled away from him. With her uninjured arm she rubbed at her swollen eyes, ridding herself of the tears that lingered there. "Sorry."

"Whatever for?"

"For falling apart on you like that."

"Bailey," Bes sighed. "Do not apologize for losing your composure every once in awhile. You are in a situation that I could never fathom facing. I do hope that you would refrain from injuring yourself. Allow me to take a look at your arm."

Without saying anything, or giving him permission, she held out her arm and winced when he gingerly took hold of her wrist. He was trying to be gentle, she knew, he did not want to aggravate the injury further. "Just be still, Bailey."

His brows furrowed in concentration as he examined her wrist which, to her utter disgust, was starting to swell while her knuckles turned a nasty black and purple bruise. Bailey hissed when she felt him pressing and moving something around. He sighed, gently letting go of her arm. "It is not broken, thank Ra. Go to Naoon and Tallimore, they can give you medicinal herbs to put on it."

Bailey could only nod. "Okay. Thank you."

The quietness of her voice made Bes pause for merely a moment. "What is it now?"

"You...being compassionate...I just. I can't fathom it."

He gave her a lopsided smirk. "Would you rather me throw you in the dungeons for causing yourself harm?"

"You can do that?" She asked after a small pause. After his affirmative nod she huffed. "Not really. No."

"Then do not fret on the matter." A snort escaped him. "Do not let others within the palace know that I have become compassionate to my subjects, and to a woman, no less. I assure you that if you do, I will not hesitate to be as merciless as your educational scrolls describe me as."

Bailey's brows furrowed. "Why? Why be quiet? What are you afraid of?"

Bes scoffed indignantly at her questions. "I am considered a God in these lands. I am afraid of nothing and no one."

"Then why be merciless and cruel if you fear no one?"

"Anyone who has negative thoughts—men, woman, children—cannot be trusted, as they are nothing more than traitors and must be punished. In order for them to respect their superiors they must be starved and given one hundred lashings. Some may die, others may plead on their hands and knees to be allowed to go free, swearing to never speak ill of the rules again." At the look on her face, he turned his steely gaze on her. "Look upon me with such disgust and I will not hesitate to do the same to you."

Bailey backed away from him. "That is not respect you are receiving. They don't speak ill of you because they're frightened of you. And you wouldn't do any of that to me. Aren't you the one who said that I am a gift from your Gods?"

"Do you wish to try my patience?"

"No." She immediately replied. "But people, no matter where they're from, shouldn't have to agree with everything that their leader says. They can think ill of them or their rules if they want. The way to fix that is to listen to them, to take their concerns and needs into consideration when making the rules. If people are happy they'll support their leader and want them to remain as their leader. Whatever you were taught about gaining respect is wrong. All you're doing is breeding fear and resentment."

Dark brown orbs burned into her hazel ones with such anger that it burned her right to her soul. But Bailey made sure to not back down. She stared right back. He was the first to break as he growled. "What are you suggesting that I do? Allow the peasants and slaves to walk all over us. Horus, send us someone who will not argue."

Bailey resisted the urge to laugh. "Of course not. What I am saying is that you should follow the golden rule, treat others the way you want to be treated. If you want to be respected than you must respect them back. Allow them to have a say in what is done with the country in which they live, because they're the ones who'll have to deal with the repercussions of your decision more than what you would."

A bark of laughter filtered out through his mouth as he stepped only mere inches away from her. "You must be insane if you believe such nonsense would work in our favour."

"What makes you think that it wouldn't work?" She countered, raising her brows and smirking when she received no answer from the King. She figured it was an opportunity worth taking so she continued.

"Bes, you forget that I am from the future, where, at times, it is much more dangerous than it is here. And, minus a few countries in the world, mostly all allow their people to pick their own leaders and then those leaders allow them to bring forth the problems going on in their community and try to help fix them. It's called democracy."

She sighed, realizing that her words were falling on deaf ears.

"Listen, you don't have to agree with everything said, you don't have to take every single suggestion to heart. You don't have to listen to anyone, but make sound decisions whenever an issue arises, because, every time you make a decision, remember that your subjects are the ones who'll have to deal with it. There will always be those who do not agree with what you're doing. But, I guarantee you, if you begin to treat them more as a human being than dirt on the bottom of your shoe that they will respect you more. Believe me, following a leader out of love and respect is a lot better than following one out of fear."