Warning: Long Chapter

As the moon reached its pinnacle in the sky, so did the amber liquid of Egypt pour into chalices. The delicate wine from Pharaoh's vineyards continued to be vigorously consumed. Both continued to flow like the eternal waters of the Nile, and as the night grew darker, the grand party-goers almost drained every amphora in storage.

Everyone was loud and merry, and for the first time in her life, Malawashina was, in effect, inebriated. The table had long been cleared of their feast, and now dancers flipped and spun across its expanse for their lively entertainment as the musicians played tune after tune.

"So, my kind minister," Malawashina called over all the noise, almost forgetting what she had said as a dancer flipped past them.

"Yes, princess?" He looked directly at her now, catching her amethyst gaze as she blinked and refocused her attention.

"Oh, yes," she took another long drought of beer before she continued. "Tell me, for I am dying to know. Who is prettier?" Once again, her eyes drifted as a dancer with sparkling jewels on her sash span by them.

The Minister could not help but chuckle silently to himself. He could very well see how rosy-cheeked the Princess had become. "Who is prettier?" He repeated, amused.

Her head snapped back to look at him, her smile radiant, like the flickering flames of the lit braziers in the room. Her eyes narrowed, and a mischievous glint danced in her gaze as her smile transformed into a flirtatious grin. "Who is prettier, my dear minister? You, or your brother, the pharaoh?"

"Well," he indulged her. It was all rather amusing, in all honesty. "My brother is the one with the most wives."

"Oh, you are too modest!" Malawashina laughed, slapping the minister's arm playfully. Yet, her touch made him stiffen, and he cleared his throat. But, alas, she was not finished there as she ran a finger down his biceps. "I love how lean and muscular you Egyptians are. Unlike some of our Hatti men, on the edge of being... fat."

She caught the minister's wide-eyed gaze, his mouth slightly agape. "Princess..." His voice dropped to a hushed tone, signaling potential eavesdroppers. Yet, as she drew closer, her sparkling eyes locked onto him with an amorous gaze.

"I have heard that men in your country shave. Not a hair on your body. Is this true?"

Those emerald jewels of his fixated on her as the heat rose in his cheeks. How could he not indulge her now? Her scents of myrrh and jasmine were intoxicating.

"I have my eyebrows, do I not?"

"Well... yes, but..."

He leaned in close enough that his lips almost brushed her ear. Yet, he did not dare touch her. "You will just have to wait to see for yourself, you naughty little cat."

With those words, he sat back in his seat and motioned to the Syrian to refill his chalice as the poor princess beside him gawked at his response.

"That damned Syrian and her perky melons!" Malawashina couldn't help but feel envious as she watched the minister exchange yet another appreciative smile with the servant. Malawashina leaned towards him, her cleavage becoming more prominent as she pushed her breasts together and adjusted her drooping neckline. "How do you think you Egyptians will like our Hatti curves?" As she leant closer still, pushing her bosom, someone took her shoulder and pulled her back sharply.

Puduhepa, her esteemed mother, smiled at the minister apologetically before looking at her daughter firmly.

"My dear, I think you have had enough to drink for one night. One must keep a rational mind for the morning. Now come, let us take you to bed and allow these gentlemen to continue the festivities."

"Mother, I did not finish my conversation with the minister!" Malawashina protested.

"Oh yes, you did, my dear. Now come," Puduhepa pulled her daughter to stand, and everyone else immediately followed suit... or tried to.

"My dearest brothers, I must take our princess to her chambers before she falls asleep at the table. So please continue enjoying yourselves until the wine and beer run dry!"

The expanse of the dining hall erupted with cheerful laughter and clapping. Then came the shouts of goodnights and farewells. Malawashina smiled and waved in thanks, and as she tried to turn to the minister, her mother pulled her away.

"Are you a fool, Malawashina?" Her mother chastised when they were far out of earshot.

Malawashina blinked and stared at her, stopping fast in her tracks.

"What do you mean, mother?"

Her mother rolled her eyes and sighed indignantly. "I knew I should not have let you drink so much. Did you not realise your behaviour at all?"

The Princess stared at her mother, dazed and confused. She felt her head swooning ever so slightly from the effects of the copious amounts of alcohol she had drunk.

"You are a fool if you believe no one noticed how you were flirting with the minister. Hopefully, their alcohol-induced state will cause them to forget everything by morning."

"Ohhhhh, that?" Malawashina laughed. "But is he not the most beautiful man you have ever seen, mother? Did you not see those eyes?" She swooned.

"Oh, what has gotten into you?" Puduhepa grumbled as she continued to pull her daughter along the magnificent halls of the fortified palace. "He is not the one you will marry!"

"Well, I hope his brother is as beautiful, then!"

Puduhepa stopped and pulled her daughter to an abrupt halt in an alcove.

"What did you just say?"

"Did you not know?" Malawashina looked genuinely surprised. "The minister, Seti-nekht, is the pharaoh's younger brother."

"This is the first I am hearing of this! Who told you?"

"He did, of course, silly!" Malawashina laughed.

Puduhepa hushed her and frowned at her daughter's slight.

"Well, I will have to confirm this. But not until you are well in bed."

"But I want to see him again!" Malawashina whined, to no avail.

"Not until you are sober!" Her mother reprimanded her. "And even then, I may need to send someone to monitor you."

"Oh, mother, stop being such a prude!"

After reaching her daughter's chambers, Puduhepa woke the young servant Utati and commanded her to draw a bath. Utati, wiping the crust of sleep from her eyes, did so immediately, inwardly flustered at the late hour of their appearance. After the princess was bathed to Puduhepa's satisfaction and was dressed and in bed, Utati could return to her little chamber attached to her mistress'.

"Mother," Malawashina began as her mother turned to leave.

"What is it, dear?" Her mother had calmed and spoke gently now.

"There's something personal I'd like to ask you," she hesitated, her fingers fumbling anxiously. The warmth of the bath had brought some clarity, yet the lingering sounds of the festivities in the distance reminded her of the night's revelry.

"What is it, darling? You know you can speak to me freely."

"I am scared...." Malawashina murmured.

"I understand. You will go to live in a land completely foreign to you."

"No, it is not entirely that," she admitted meekly. "I am now eager to go to Egypt. But... I fear my union with the pharaoh. The minister assured me that the pharaoh was kind enough, but as you know, my dealings with monarchs have never been so savoury." As she mentioned her cousin, a wave of revulsion washed over her, causing her to recoil involuntarily. The memory of Mursili's cruel actions still haunted her, leaving scars both visible and invisible. The mere thought of repeating such a traumatic experience with the pharaoh sent shivers down her spine. "I fear the consummation, for I do not know what to expect. I am scared he will hurt me." Like Mursili did...

Her vulnerability and fear painted a poignant picture, a portrait of a young woman torn between her desires and her traumas. As she sat there, admitting her fears with a meekness that belied her inner strength, she longed for a different outcome. She yearned for a union that would bring love, tenderness, and understanding, but the specter of her past still loomed large, casting doubts on her hopes.

With a heavy heart and a flicker of determination in her eyes, she resolved to confront her fears head-on. Though her trepidation lingered, she knew she could not let the shadows of her past dictate her future. As she took a deep breath, the strength within her stirred, ready to face the uncertainties that awaited her in Egypt.

With a sigh, Puduhepa joined her daughter on the bed, seeking solace in their shared presence. "I am sorry," she whispered softly, her eyes filled with genuine remorse. "This is a conversation we should have had much sooner. I cannot advise you about the pharaoh's disposition, but I have been given assurances you will be properly attended to. However, when it comes to satisfying his sensual cravings, you must fulfill his every whim. That is the obligation you have as his wife. And I, too, hope he will regard you with the same level of respect."

"What will happen?" Malawashina's voice shook as she sat on her knees and took her mother's hand. "What will happen with the consummation? I understand the act, but," she stopped, and her face flushed brightly.

With a comforting gesture, her mother placed a hand on her shoulder, offering a reassuring smile to ease her daughter's unease. Her unease dissipated slightly as her mother continued to explain the intricacies of the upcoming rituals. The thought of celebrations and feasts made her smile, envisioning a joyous occasion filled with music, dancing, and laughter.

But as her mother's words turned to the more intimate aspects of the marriage, a mix of anticipation and apprehension filled her. The notion of entering the room of union, a sacred space where her marriage would be consummated, brought a flush of embarrassment to her cheeks. Yet, she trusted her mother's guidance and wisdom. The mention of being bathed by personal servants in private chambers first brought a sense of comfort. Her mother spoke of a personal and intimate care, ensuring that she would be prepared for this significant step in her life. "My dear, you will also be adorned in the most exquisite linen, a symbol of your utmost purity," her mother continued.

A tight knot formed in Malawashina's throat at those words, and her heart thumping was almost painful.

"You will be scented with the most expensive and rarest oils available. Once prepared, priestesses of the Egyptian goddesses Hathor and Isis will lead you in a procession to the room of the union. When you and the pharaoh meet to ask the goddesses for their favor in begetting a child, there will be the chanting incantations and prayers of the priestesses. Then I assume you two will be given some privacy," she said.

"Will it... hurt?" Malawashina's voice squeaked. After the incident, she had felt a strange stinging within her womanhood. In addition, a persistent, throbbing ache had lingered for several days. Thinking about it now brought back that light burning within her loins, and she felt the bones in her body ache unwillingly. Could she expect the upcoming experience to be as unbearable as before? That, alas, she could not ask.

"Most likely, to some degree," her mother answered honestly. "It may be a sharp pain and might hurt for a few moments, but after a while, it should diminish on its own. But if he knows what he is doing, you should feel very little pain. You will bleed as your virginity is taken, and the blood will stain a white sheep's skin that will have been placed on the bed. This sheep's skin will be kept as evidence of your purity and paraded through the streets of pharaoh's capital to show and celebrate your honour. It will then be placed within a sacred chest and returned to us here in Hattusa."

A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of the blood that would stain the white sheep's skin. It would be a vivid reminder of the sacrifice she was making, a symbol of her virtue lost. The image of the blood-soaked wool being paraded through the streets of the pharaoh's capital filled her with a mixture of dread and pride, as her honor would be on display for all to see.

"And... if I do not bleed?"

Her mother's grey eyes narrowed. "Why would you not?"

"Oh... umm..." Malawashina fumbled nervously, "It is just that I have heard from some servants that some girls do not bleed at all... even if they are innocent."

Her mother sighed and shook her head. "Well, that would be very unfortunate for them," she answered. "Do as you are told and learn and listen. Complying with the pharaoh's wishes will keep you both happy. You will be second only to Queen Nefertari, but be cautious as the other women in the harem may still try to manipulate you and disrespect you for being an outsider to their established realm. Regardless, your position will afford you much more leniency and luxuries than others. This, however, can and will lead to jealousy. So, my daughter, I suggest you tread lightly and be fair and kind to everyone, regardless of how they treat you."

"Yes, mother. I want to take gifts for all the wives, concubines, and children of the pharaoh."

"A good and noble idea. Lavish gifts will at least help them loosen up to you. I shall have our artisans here in the city set to work immediately."

In the stillness of her dimly lit chambers, Malawashina could smell the faint scent of lavender from the dried flowers on her bedside table. The dark midnight hues mingled with the flickering auburn of the single remaining brazier, creating a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow that painted the walls and ceiling in vibrant colors. The ceiling was painted to resemble a starry night, with constellations scattered across the expanse.

Oh, how she wished she could drag her bed out into the courtyard to sleep under the actual sky. She probably would have if it were not for the cool draft that swept through the cracks under the door. Settling into the furs and goose-feather pillows, she slowly drifted into blissful slumber.

No sooner did her eyes flutter closed did she feel the mattress sink ever slightly to her left. Murmuring sleepily, she shifted, turning her head back to look over her shoulder. Had her mother returned to hug her goodnight? They did not have many more days to spend together.

She looked up at the shadowy figure leaning over her. Then, blinking hard to adjust her vision, her eyes shot open at the emerald gaze that glimmered from the waning light. His lithe fingers traced the length of her jaw as it opened agape. No sooner did she try to utter words did her mouth fill with the lingering sweetness of wine and beer as his tongue lashed lavishly with hers.

He took her face with both his hands as she squeaked in protest, yet he did not release her, and she found herself melting into his very touch like wax melting from the wick of a candle. Oh, how delicious he tasted! Her senses whirred wildly, and her heart thumped deafeningly in her ears as he caressed the side of her neck, his hand drifting ever lower.

"This cannot be happening. We cannot do this. The pharaoh will have our heads!" Screamed the voice in her mind. "What he does not know will not hurt him." Refuted the other.

She tried to pull away from his body, but he shifted his weight against her. Then, pulling her hands up, he pinned them above her head.

"You are not going anywhere, my naughty little cat," his voice was molten and smooth like hot honey as he traced his tongue across her earlobe.

She could not help but dissolve into his words once more, and when he released her, her hands found their way to his dark, delectable skin like they had minds of their own. His skin was so smooth and supple as she lowered her fingertips, and she traced them over the taut contours of his abdominal muscles. "You are too divine for this world. You must be a god gracing this earth," she breathed into his mouth.

"I am not the pharaoh," murmured his reply as he caressed the thumping vein of her throat with his delectable lips. He grazed his teeth then, and she whimpered pleadingly, prompting him to slip between her wanting thighs.

It was then that she realised he was completely and utterly naked. His entire body encased her more petite frame, and she realised then that she, too, was devoid of all clothing. He rested on his elbows as he gazed lazily down at her, those thick ebony lashes accentuating his eyes perfectly. That is precisely what she thought he was; an utter form of absolute perfection that only the gods themselves could create.

Like the cat he had called her, she sidled her head against his touch as he stroked her cheek with one hand, slipping his other down her upper body to caress her exposed breast. The sensations enveloped her from his touch and forced a soft, enamoured moan to escape her lips.

He enclosed his mouth with hers once more as he traced the circumference of her areola. The tweaking of her nipple between his fingertips caused her to groan deeply into his kiss. Then the entirety of her body shuddered with anticipation and lust.

At that moment, she felt it, like a smooth cobra, its hard body twitching as it cornered its prey. It throbbed eagerly against her uppermost inner thigh, begging for entrance to her most sacred place. She tried to look down at it then, but he refused her the satisfaction as he pressed his skin harder against hers.

His action was immediately met with a surge of desire, as the cobra pressed against her most sensitive area, causing an electrifying sensation to shoot into her womanhood. She couldn't contain her cries as his fingers teased her, his touch both gentle and skillful, driving her wild with need. As he pinned her down, she squirmed and let out soft, whimpering mewls. Still, he persisted with his relentless ministrations. He pushed her to the brink of the heavens, where she teetered between mortal ground and the realm of gods. Reaching between them, he steadied his member, and she felt its smooth head caress and entice her entrance.

Then she woke up. Her body was covered in a thin film of cold sweat, but she was clothed. Her heart was racing, and that delicious thrill of his lips on her neck lingered so faintly. The simple thought of his lips and hands upon her caused that erotic tingle once more.

With her lower lip caught between her teeth, she squeezed her legs together, feeling a sudden rush of wetness that sent shivers down her spine. Surely her red moon had not arrived so soon?

With trembling fingers, her breath still heavy from the lucid dream, she reached down below the sheets and furs. As her fingers found their mark, she couldn't help but gasp in surprise at the overwhelming bliss that flooded her loins once more.

Pulling her hand away in shock, her eyes widened at the sight of the clear, watery liquid that now clung to her fingertips. Then, panicked, she shot up from her bed and raced to the copper basin still filled with rosewater. There, she rinsed her hands, scrubbing them and splashing her face with the chilly water to free herself from her erotic thoughts of him.

He was not the one she was promised to, so why him?