Stars After Midnight

V. Unravel

Sinking into the calming bath, Nyla leaned her back against the tub, a private section of the Pharaoh's. His servants were told to tend to her, but she pushed them out, realizing that she needed to be alone. Nyla sunk deeper till her body and her mouth were both under the water. 

She opened her eyes, staring ahead blankly, eyes fixated on the clarity of her reflection like a tiny mirror blurring out her flaws and mistakes. The water swayed to the gentle exhales that flew from her, ripples creasing her image and flashing with serenity. It was as if Nyla were bathing in sapphires. 

How did life end up this way?

It was only days ago when she was a priestess who eagerly chased after the stories of the gods and the legacy of her previous Pharaoh's. The ripples that surfaced whenever she moved her aching muscles would only break the illusion she was seeing, the fantasy of one day being Sethe's Queen, to feel his love everyday, and to be the apple to his eyes. 

She wanted to shatter that fantasy, hoping to bury it among a thousand more she would inevitably create. However, a fantasy was better left in desire than a reality that shredded her sanity. 

Soft footsteps echoed into the large bathing quarters, the dimly lit candles flickering as a strong silhouette appeared across the room, a shadow of excellence and power. The air around them stilled, time frozen as it awaited the next chapter to their tale, breaths lost as they tried to find the words melted on their tongue. 

Nyla could already hear her heart breaking with every moment that passed by. He was never serious about her, and she knew that. Yet the more time she spent with the seemingly coy Pharaoh, the more she fell, the more she wished he could be hers. 

Her soul ached in a wistful longing, pounding against her chest like a call to approach him, to confess, but her mind warned against it, pulled the reigns of her self-control and whispered the agonizing truth of royalty. He did not love her. 

He was only using her. 

After he was done, she would be sent back to the temple. It was what they discussed. 

She felt the heat of his body behind her, and Nyla froze, paralyzed by the ambivalence that coursed through her. He paused for a moment, observing her body's reaction to his close proximity. 

That was when he began to undress, the sounds of cloth falling and adornments clanking against the hard floor, and before she knew it, he submerged beside her, vibrant and playful dark eyes revealing their intention before his smile could. 

Her eyes widened, and she held her breath. 

Sethe swam closer to her, not caring that they were both naked under the duvet of a transparent yet opaque surrounding, the warmth of his body igniting her skin even when she was buried in the cool touch. 

He cocked his head to the side, stray strands of his hair whisking to the movement. "What has you thinking so hard, dear?"

"Why do you keep pretending, Sethe?" she whispered brokenly, unable to contain her bottled emotions. Her eyes burned with tears as heartbreak continued a roaring echo of discontent and sorrow. Her chest clenched painfully, but she had to know. "Why do you tell me sweet lies when you know that I will not stay?"

He stumbled for a response, brows furrowed. "What are you talking about? I never told you a lie," he insisted. 

Nyla furiously swam to a different side of the bath, water splashing behind her and crashing against Sethe's chest in droplet. Aggravated, she decided it was better to left some things unsaid between them. If he would not acknowledge it, then she would not push him.