The Egyptian Princess
Copyright© 2025 by Drcock666
Chapter 15: Shadows Beneath the Lotus Tree.
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 15: Shadows Beneath the Lotus Tree. - This is the story of my life. I am Mutnodjmet, and when this tale begins, I am fifteen years old, on the very day of my wedding. I am to marry Pharaoh himself: my father. The year is 1350 BC, in the ancient city of Luxor, Egypt.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Teenagers Consensual Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction High Fantasy Incest Brother Sister Father Daughter
It was late afternoon. Almost four years had passed since my marriage to my God, my Pharaoh, my Father.
I had just returned to my chambers and washed my hands after the temple ritual. The air in the palace hung heavy and still, as if the very walls were holding their breath. My sisters lay stretched out on cushions, weary from the day’s heat, while I sat before the mirror, letting a maid braid my hair.
Then came the cries.
At first, faint, barely more than a whisper, but then louder, urgent footsteps pounding down the corridor, the sharp clink of metal against stone. The maid froze behind me, her fingers caught mid-braid. Nefertiti sprang upright with a sudden jerk.
“What was that?” Isis whispered, her voice trembling.
I rose to my feet. The doorway curtain fluttered, and our teacher Aung entered, pale as alabaster.
“You must stay here,” she said firmly. “No questions.”
But I could not help myself. “What’s happening?” I asked.
She hesitated, only a moment, but it was enough. I saw the terror in her eyes.
“There is a man with a knife. Inside the palace.”
A stranger. A servant? A guard? No one knew. Only that someone had slipped into the inner halls, wielding a dagger-like weapon, shouting something about vengeance against the pharaoh. The guards chased him through several colonnades.
“He’s close to our chambers,” I heard a servant whisper through the wall. Cold ran down my legs.
Aung barred the door with a wooden beam. “Take cover behind the screens. Now.”
We obeyed, we were princesses, immortal, but in that moment, we were just three frightened girls. I held Isis in my arms. She trembled. Nefertiti squeezed my other hand tightly.
Outside came screams, a heavy thud. Then silence.
When the guards finally entered, their swords were stained red at the edges. They bowed before us, but their eyes searched the room, as if the danger still lurked in the shadows. The unknown man was dead, they said.
A lone madman, a disgruntled servant from a distant temple.
But something inside me had shifted. I felt it when I saw the bloodstain on the floor the next day, quickly wiped, but not invisible.
We grew up surrounded by marble and perfume, under the sun and the gods’ protection. But that night I understood: even in the palace’s heart, darkness could seep in. Even we were vulnerable.
And from that day forward, I wore not only jewelry but vigilance.
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