The Dynasty Ruler's Minion

[Neferet’s POV]

His body is pressed against mine, his hands gliding over my bare skin with reverence, possession. His breath is warm against my ear, his lips whispering my name like a prayer only he is meant to speak.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmurs, his voice thick with meaning. “The way you belong to me. The way I belong to you.”

I do not resist. I should. I know I should. But there is something about him—his touch, his presence—that pulls me under, drowns me willingly.

I am desperate to finally see his face, to understand why my dreams have belonged to him and not to the man I am meant to marry soon.

“Yes, I do,” I whisper, and I really mean it.

His hands tighten around me, his lips tracing a path down my throat, over my shoulder and breasts, my stomach, lower and lower—

A sudden rush of heat floods my body, sharp and overwhelming. I arch against his mouth, a moan slipping from my lips.

But then—a voice cuts through the haze.

"Lady Neferet!"

My eyes snap open.

I blink, trying to steady myself. The familiar face before me comes into focus — Pageti, my childhood friend, my most loyal servant. She is kneeling beside my bed, her brows furrowed in concern.

"You were trembling in your sleep," she said, voice soft but urgent. "And… breathing like you'd just run through the desert barefoot."

A deep flush crawls up my neck.

The dream. The way I moaned his name.

I press my hands to my burning face, mortified. "I— It was nothing. Just a dream."

Pageti does not look convinced. "The same dream with the stranger as always?"

I shake my head, hesitating. "No… not really. This time, it was different."

She tilts her head, waiting for me to explain.

The scent of freshly baked bread and honey lingers in the air as Pageti sets my breakfast tray before me.

"Well, you know how it usually goes," I murmur. "He's always standing there—in the Nile, waiting for me. Beautiful and mysterious, yet I’ll never be able to remember his face. While kissing me, holding my hand behind my back to not let me touch. And when finally I reach for him…"

"He disappears. Like mist in the water," Pageti finishes for me. She watches me closely, her dark eyes sharp with curiosity when I nod.

I sigh, staring down at my plate of fruit and flatbread, avoiding her gaze. "It felt… more real this time. And more… explicit."

A pause. Then—Pageti gasps, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Lady Neferet!" she whispers loudly, eyes wide. "Do you mean to tell me you—" She lowers her voice, leaning in. "You actually dreamed of lying with him?"

The way she says it makes me feel even more ashamed. I groan, dropping my face into my hands once again. "Yes! And I wish I hadn't!"

Pageti stares at me for a long moment. Then—she laughs.

“Well,” she drawls, “that certainly explains the way you were squirming in your sleep.”

I groan even louder, throwing a pillow at her. “Pageti!”

She laughs, easily dodging it before perching on the edge of my bed, eyes still dancing with mischief.

“I just don’t understand why you’re so flustered. It's just a dream, it wasn’t real."

“But it felt real,” I insist, looking up at her, my voice almost pleading. “More real than they’ve ever been and should. And it’s wrong!”

Pageti’s teasing softens into something more gentle. "Lady Neferet, you love Sahety. You’re going to marry him. One dream does not change any of that."

"Then why would I dream of another man?" I press, frustrated. "A stranger?"

Pageti shrugs. "Perhaps your mind is restless. Or perhaps," she smirks, "you simply long for what you cannot have until your wedding night."

I gasp, swatting at her arm. She laughs again, dodging my weak attempt at a scolding.

"I’m just saying! You’ve waited so long for Sahety, and he’s been away for moons. Maybe your heart is tired of waiting."

The words settle uncomfortably in my chest.

It is true that I have waited. I have loved Sahety for years. I asked for him. I chose him. So why does it feel like something is wrong?

I shake my head, forcing the thought away. "It doesn’t matter. I will forget about it."

"Good.” Pageti nods, satisfied. “Because you’ll be too busy preparing for the festival of Isis to think about dreams anyway."

"You’re right.” I exhale, finally taking a sip of my water. “And besides… Sahety is coming home soon."

"Yes.” Pageti smiles. “Soon, you’ll be his wife. And everything will fall into place."

* * *

Sahety returns the next morning. I rush to meet him, my sandals barely skimming the stone floor. My heart pounds in my chest, the joy of seeing him again overwhelming everything else.

"Sahety!" I call out, breathless.

He turns at the sound of my voice, his expression shifting into something unreadable before he smiles—soft, polite, distant.

"Neferet," he greets, his tone steady.