The days that followed Naiya's brief encounter with Thut felt like a blur. She tried to focus on her life in the palace, embracing the luxury and comfort Lord Menkara and Lady Netira had provided, but there was something she couldn't shake—a feeling that something was missing, a longing she couldn't explain.
Life at the palace, though opulent, lacked the warmth and familiarity she craved. She was treated with kindness, yes, but Naiya often found herself staring out at the desert, wondering if she'd ever find the answers to the questions swirling in her mind. Why had she been pulled into this time? Why was she here in Egypt, living a life that seemed so out of place? The memories of her former life, the modern world, were fading, leaving only a vague sense of nostalgia—her family, her friends, the place she once called home.
And then, there was the fleeting memory of Thut. His eyes, the intensity in his gaze, the way he had spoken to her as if she were someone he should know. But she had brushed it off. He was just another soldier, another face in the crowd, even though something inside her had stirred the moment she saw him.
The truth was, Naiya didn't know that the man she had met in the market was anything more than a general. The idea that he could be a prince never crossed her mind. In her world, generals were men of power, too. The exchange had been brief—an unusual encounter, yes, but nothing that stood out in the grand scheme of things. Or so she thought.
Meanwhile, Thut was far from her thoughts. After their brief meeting, he had returned to the front lines of the war, his mind occupied by the endless strategy, the cries of battle, and the weight of his duty. He had tried to push away the memory of Naiya, but it lingered, a constant whisper at the back of his mind. Her face, her eyes—those eyes that seemed to pierce through him—were never far from his thoughts.
He had felt something, a strange pull toward her. He couldn't explain it, and that unsettled him. He had met countless women in his life, women who were beautiful, graceful, and poised, but there was something about Naiya that made him feel a connection he couldn't understand. He had asked himself many times why that fleeting moment had stayed with him, why he couldn't stop thinking about her.
But duty called. And Thut, as always, had pushed aside the distractions. The war, the kingdom—Egypt needed him.
Naiya's life in the palace continued without interruption. As the weeks went by, she became more accustomed to her new identity, now fully embraced as the adopted daughter of Lord Menkara and Lady Netira. She attended social gatherings, feasts, and celebrations. She was introduced to the movers and shakers of Egypt's noble class, learning the names of powerful families and their intricate relationships. She was even given some small responsibilities around the palace, helping with planning events and aiding Lady Netira in overseeing the household's daily affairs.
But in the quiet moments of the day, when the chatter of servants faded into the background, Naiya would think of the marketplace. She could still hear the soft murmur of voices, the scent of spices, and the feel of the warm desert breeze on her skin. And, of course, she remembered Thut—though she never spoke his name aloud. She told herself it was nothing more than a passing encounter, an unimportant moment in the grand story of her life, but deep down, she knew that wasn't true.
A part of her missed the familiarity of her past life, even though she couldn't remember the details. The comfort of her family, the warmth of their love—things she now knew were lost to her forever. But there was something even more haunting, something about Thut that she couldn't escape.
That was, until one evening, a few weeks after the market encounter.
Naiya wandered the palace gardens as she often did, her thoughts heavy with a thousand questions. She was drawn to the edge of the garden, where a small stone bench sat under the shade of an ancient fig tree. The night air was cool, the sky clear and dotted with stars. The Nile glistened in the distance, and for a moment, Naiya felt as if she were caught between two worlds—the one she had left behind and the one she was now part of.
She sat on the bench, staring out over the water, lost in thought. She didn't notice the figure approaching her until he was nearly beside her.
"Mind if I join you?"
Naiya looked up, startled. Standing before her was a young man, dressed in the familiar military garb of a soldier. He looked at her with a warm, casual smile, one that made her feel immediately at ease. She nodded slightly, her thoughts still tangled.
"Of course," she said, her voice soft.
The young man sat beside her, stretching his legs out in front of him. "It's a beautiful night," he remarked, his gaze turning toward the stars. "Egypt is always at her most peaceful when the sun sets."
Naiya smiled faintly, though she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to him. Something familiar.
"I agree," she replied. "It's one of the few moments when everything feels calm."
The man chuckled, a low, pleasant sound. "I'm glad you feel the same way. My name is Ramose," he said, offering her a friendly smile. "I don't believe we've formally met."
Naiya hesitated for a moment before responding. "I'm Naiya."
"Ah, yes, the adopted daughter of Lord Menkara," Ramose said with a knowing smile. "I've heard much about you. Lady Netira speaks highly of you."
Naiya nodded politely. "I've been trying to adjust."
"I can imagine," he said, his tone sympathetic. "It's not easy, is it? Moving from one world to another."
She paused, then glanced over at him. "No, it's not. But I'm grateful for their kindness. Lord Menkara and Lady Netira have been very kind to me."
"I'm sure they have," Ramose said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "They're good people."
For a while, they sat in silence, both watching the ripples on the Nile. Naiya felt a strange comfort in his presence, though something in her chest still ached, a quiet longing she couldn't name.
Finally, Ramose broke the silence. "So, Naiya, tell me… what is it you miss most about your old life?"
Naiya's heart clenched at the question. She wasn't sure if she could explain it. She missed so many things, but how could she articulate the feeling of loss that had become so deeply ingrained in her?
"I miss my family," she said quietly, the words slipping from her before she could stop them. "I don't remember them clearly anymore. But I know I miss them."
Ramose nodded, his expression softening. "I understand," he said. "We all miss someone, in some way. It's what makes us human."
Naiya looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. She hadn't expected such understanding from a man she had just met.
For a moment, their eyes met, and in that brief connection, Naiya couldn't shake the feeling that, just like her, Ramose was carrying his own burdens. There was something about him—a quiet strength that mirrored her own uncertainty.
As the night wore on, the two of them continued to talk. But Naiya's thoughts lingered on the encounter in the market and the feeling of connection that still echoed in her heart. It was a feeling she couldn't name, but she knew—deep down—that it was only the beginning of something that would change the course of her life forever.