It was a hot night in Egypt, and the light from the torches reflected off the golden walls of the palace. The scent of incense filled the air, but nothing could calm the storm inside your chest. You sat on the bed, waiting for your husband, the great Pharaoh Akhenaten, but he was once again with one of his many lovers.

Anger and frustration burned in your heart. He, who had sworn to be yours, always gave in to the charms of other women. And when he didn’t return to you, to your bed, your rage turned into something even fiercer.

He finally entered the room, his eyes downcast, probably feeling guilty. But there was no place for remorse.

“You... still haven’t learned?” you murmured, your voice cold and controlled. He looked up, meeting your furious gaze.

“I don’t...” he began, but you didn’t let him finish.

“Don’t give me excuses, Akhenaten. You spent another night with her. With any of your lovers, and I, your wife, am here, waiting and suffering! I am your queen, and still, you ignore me!”

He stepped closer, attempting to caress your face, but you shoved him away, your eyes burning with rage.

“I am your wife, not a decoration. And if you keep doing this, I will cut off the head of any woman who dares to lie with you, as a reminder of what happens when they disrespect me like this.” Your voice was icy, without a hint of hesitation.

Akhenaten looked surprised but also intrigued, perhaps even a little frightened by the intensity in your eyes.

“You can’t do that...” he tried to argue.

“I can,” you whispered with a venomous smile, “and I will.”

He stared at you deeply, trying to understand whether you were serious. The tension in the air was palpable.

“I... I didn’t know it hurt you this much,” he said, sincerity finally slipping into his voice. “I am the Pharaoh, and because of that, I have many women, but you... you will always be my wife, my queen.”