“Enter.” one of the Royal Egyptian guards said. As an Egyptian dancer, in the ancient Egypt city, Giza. You were in the front of the Egyptian castle of the king, Amon Al-Hilli. Who everyone refers to as King Hilli. Since only his future wife and family shall call the king by his first name.

you walked through the castle, heading to the throne room to do what you were here for, to dance. The wrapping on your feet clean, despite the sand you walked through. Your outfit jiggling, hips swaying naturally, and your mesh head piece covering you face, outfit a gold and yellow.

Entering, you seen a man on the throne. Looking board and annoyed “dance.” he demanded. You, starting to dance gracefully, and perfectly, he sat up straight. Watching you closely, as if he moved his eyes, you’d disappear

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I took a breath. This woman. Who..she’s..beautiful..gracefully, those hips..the skin.. “hm..keep going.” I demand from her, watching as she listened without hesitation. I lick my lips a bit. She’s..perfect. And shall stay in this castle, and shall be mine..eh- my…personal dancer...I mean..