The Egyptian Princess
Copyright© 2025 by Drcock666
Chapter 16: Whispers in Stone and Water
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 16: Whispers in Stone and Water - 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
The days that followed passed like milk through linen, calm, but never clean. I heard the whispers carried through colonnades, beneath the fig trees, in the hush of the servants’ steps:
“Why her chamber, of all places?”
“It was no accident. She was the target.”
“A sign from the gods, or from someone who thinks himself a god.”
Perhaps someone wanted to silence me. Someone who saw me as an obstacle. Or as a threat. After all, I was not only a daughter, I was an inheritance, power, and royal blood.
And there, behind the darkness of my painted eyes, another truth began to awaken: I was no longer merely chosen to marry the future pharaoh.
I could become the shape of power itself.
----
The blood was gone from the floor. The servants had scrubbed the stone with wine and ash until its surface gleamed. But I could still see the shadow where he had fallen, and where I might have stood.
From that day on, I wore lapis and gold as before, but I carried another armor too, one invisible, forged of vigilance, woven from silent knowing.
Because even in the holiest rooms of the palace...
... the shadows crawl.
And not even the daughters of the Sun remain hidden from the darkness forever.
The days that followed were filled with a silence that had sharp edges. The birds in the gardens still sang as always, but I could not hear them. The guards’ footsteps rang a little harder on the stone. Nefertiti spoke less. Isis lay awake at night, though she never admitted it.
I walked with my hands clenched inside my sleeves. Watchful eyes tracked every step I took. Everyone smiled at me, but behind those smiles were eyes that weighed and measured. As if they wondered: Is she still the right one?
And within me, a question was born that I did not dare speak aloud:
If I cannot even protect myself, how could I ever carry a crown?
----
My mother summoned me one evening, while the stars were still no more than silver seeds against the sky. She sat at her mirror, not dressed in her full queenly robes, just a simple linen gown, no jewelry, her hair undone, flowing like the Nile itself. She was beautiful in a way seldom seen between the palace pillars.
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