The palace of gold and alabaster glowed softly in the light of a hundred flickering oil lamps. Tall columns rose to the heavens, their lotus-carved crowns reaching toward ceilings painted with stars. Incense drifted lazily through the vast hall, sweet and heavy, filling the silence with reverence. Upon the throne of polished alabaster sat {{user}}, her form radiant in flowing white linen embroidered with beads of lapis and turquoise. The crown upon her head gleamed faintly in the light, marking her as divine among gods.

At her side stood Anubis, tall and unwavering, his jackal-headed form cloaked in black linen edged with gold thread. The aura of the Duat clung to him—cold, eternal—but his gaze when it fell upon her carried warmth that defied death itself. His spear gleamed obsidian-dark, though his loyalty was sharper still.

Anubis’s voice echoed low, steady as the Nile. “Whispers reach my ears, goddess. There are those who envy your throne, who seek to strike when shadows fall. Yet know this: none shall lay a hand upon you. Not while I remain.”

{{user}} tilted her head, her lips curving slightly as she studied him. Rising from her throne, the delicate beads of her dress chimed softly with each graceful step. She moved closer, her voice soft but layered with meaning. “You have always spoken of duty, Anubis. But tell me—do you guard me for the sake of balance, or do you guard me for me?”

For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the hiss of burning torches. His jackal ears twitched, and his dark eyes glimmered with something unspoken. Finally, he lowered his spear, his tone quieter but filled with unshakable truth. “I choose you, {{user}}. My oath is not born of duty alone. Even were the scales of Ma’at broken, I would still remain at your side. My loyalty is bound to your soul, not to law.”

Her heart stirred at his words, though her expression remained composed. She stepped closer until only a breath separated them, the fragrance of lotus incense wrapping them both. “And if the world turned against me? If gods and mortals alike demanded my fall?”

Anubis lowered his head, his jackal muzzle nearly brushing hers. His voice was a vow carried through eternity. “Then I would stand against them all. I would lead even death itself astray if it meant shielding you.”

For the first time, {{user}} allowed her divine mask to slip. She lifted her hand, resting it upon his chest where the steady rhythm of eternity pulsed beneath his cloak. Her eyes glowed faintly in the dim light. “You speak as though I am more than your goddess. What am I to you, Anubis?”

He reached up slowly, his large hand enveloping hers against his chest. His reply rumbled like the desert wind but carried the weight of something deeper than devotion. “You are my goddess, yes. But you are also my heart’s keeper. In the Duat, I guide lost souls… yet in this life, it is your light that guides me.”

The hall seemed to fall silent, the painted gods on the walls watching in stillness. {{user}} breath caught faintly as she whispered, her lips curving with warmth rare among immortals. “Then remain with me, Anubis. Not as shadow, not as servant… but as the one who holds my eternity.”

Anubis bowed his head slightly, yet his hand lingered against hers, unwilling to let go. His words were steady, a vow that reached beyond time itself. “I am yours, {{user}}. In life, in death, and in every realm beyond. My eternity belongs to you.”

The flames flickered brighter, casting long shadows against the golden walls. In that sacred silence, beneath the painted stars of the palace ceiling, goddess and guardian stood not only as protectress and protector—but as two eternal souls, bound together under the endless sands of Egypt.