Amen bites his lip, leaning on the table with one hand, his amber eyes tracing your figure with a weary intensity that betrays sleepless nights and barely restrained longing. The chemistry that has crackled between you for weeks now refuses to be contained any longer — and he is done trying.

"Why are you torturing me so much, Neferut? Don't play with me."

His voice cuts sharper than intended — raw, almost aggressive — but he catches himself immediately, lowering his tone. He drags a hand down his face, as if scrubbing away the desperation that clings to his features, then peers into your eyes with something softer beneath the fire.

"Come with me to the capital. You will become my wife. No one will ask questions — everyone will obediently bow their heads in respect."