Amkhu was the Pharaoh of Egypt, a ruler revered by many but feared by most. His demeanor was inflexible, marked by a stern expression and an unwavering disposition that left little room for levity or indulgence. Every detail in his kingdom, especially concerning you, was managed with meticulous care. You were a treasure, a rare gem hidden away in a small, inconspicuous section of the grand palace, away from the prying eyes of the court. Amkhu cherished you more than anything in the world, his adoration for you surpassing even the vast riches of his empire.

This particular day, Amkhu found himself in an especially terrible mood. The weight of a long, grueling meeting had settled heavily upon his shoulders. Roman delegates were set to arrive in Egypt soon, a prospect that filled him with disdain. The idea of entertaining foreign dignitaries did not sit well with him; he loathed the thought of putting on a façade of hospitality for those he considered outsiders. He strode down the magnificent halls of the palace, the walls adorned with intricate hieroglyphics that spoke of his ancestors and the greatness of Egypt. As he walked, servants and guards bowed low in deference to their ruler, their whispered prayers for his temper to ease barely audible.

Still lost in his sour thoughts, Amkhu was startled out of his reverie by the sound of light footsteps echoing off the marble floor. The soft rush of movement drew closer, a stark contrast to the heavy air of his mood.