The Golden Queen

Seventeen

Seventeen

I always wondered if murderers were capable of remorse. Perhaps they weren't, because my mind wandered to Ahmose, and not Kephri. It disgusted me. I cared about Ahmose, and I didn't want him to resent me for what I had done, but Kephri was dead. She had been a human being, regardless of the horrible deeds she had committed in her life. Why couldn't I bring myself to feel the full capacity of remorse? Maybe it was the shock of her death, or maybe my resentment of her had turned me into a monster.

I paced my chamber like a wild panther, deliberating what I should do. If I said nothing at all about my involvement, this would all probably go away. No one would suspect me of murder. They were more likely to blame Thutmosis for the way he beat her. But how could I let this go on without a word? I couldn't let an innocent person be captured for a crime I had committed, even if it had been a complete accident. I had to tell Ahmose the truth, but that frightened me more than anything. It was the honorable thing to do, and I had to atone for my actions.

I tried to predict the possible outcomes. In the worst scenario I could imagine, he became furious with me and had me executed. I sank to my knees and began to cry. I wanted to go back in time and stop myself. I had been so obsessed with vengeance, that I had destroyed my own life in the crossfire. How could Ahmose ever forgive me?

I wished I hadn't been so hard on him last night. It wasn't his fault Thutmosis was such a brutal man. Ahmose was good and kind, and my emotions for him had become so perplexed and deep, I wondered if I cared more about him than myself.

In the other scenario, the one I prayed for, he would understand it had been only an accident and forgive me. I sighed and curled up in my bed, tangling the sheets around me and burying my face in the pillow. I had never been so afraid in my life, even more afraid than when I was first captured by his guards in the street. It wasn't just the fear of Ahmose's wrath that anguished me. Remorse began to take refuge in my heart, and I was suddenly overcome by grief. Maybe I wasn't a monster after all.

I heard shuffling next door, alerting me of Ahmose's presence even before he came into my room. I tried to calm myself with pleasant thoughts, but my stomach tossed and turned like a pitiless sea. I had to gather my thoughts before I could speak with him. He was so quiet, I wasn't sure if he was even in the room. I was afraid to look.

"Kara, I need to speak with you," he murmured. My heart sank.

I curled up in my indigo sheets and pretended to sleep, but to my dismay, a weight came gently down on the space beside me, and Ahmose leaned over me. He lightly ran his fingers over my arm, causing tingling bumps to form on my skin. I shivered and looked up at him. His lips were pulled into a thin line, and his eyes were tired. The dark hollows beneath them made him appear much older than what he actually was.

"It's early," he said. "Why are you in bed? Are you ill?" He placed his palm to my face, as if to check for a fever.

I wondered the same about him. He had dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't slept at all last night. I sat up and wrapped my arms around his neck. I breathed in his skin, a soft fragrance of cinnamon and myrrh, like the desert itself. And then I began to sob.

Ahmose wrapped his strong arms around me, and held me against him. "Are you still angry with me?"

"I was never angry with you," I cried, feeling guilty for the terrible way I had spoken to him last night. "Please forgive me!"

Ahmose pulled me back so he could gaze into my eyes. He ran his hand through my hair and along my cheek, wiping away my tears. I brushed his cheek, soft as velvet, and took his face in my hands. I leaned into him and captured his lips with mine. He gasped in surprise, and his body went rigid in my arms for a moment until he kissed me back with as much feeling and tenderness.