5: Agreeable

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Even back in his own bed in the royal palace at Thebes, Atem had trouble sleeping. His mind raced with thoughts of pale snakes, wheeling stars, and weeping women. When it was quiet, as it was now, his ears would ring with a sound like Satiah's fearful scream upon seeing the broken body of her brother.

Satiah... The woman who would soon be his wife. It seemed odd to even say such a thing, when just four days prior, they had been pitted against one another as mortal enemies. More than her sorrow, Atem recalled with fear the look of loathing she had set on him when the Pharaoh had decreed her forced betrothal. Atem knew next to nothing about the woman, and yet soon he would be expected to share a life with her. Already, the royal servants and priests were planning for the wedding festivities, though Satiah and her father would not arrive for another week or more. Thankfully, the Pharaoh had given them a fortnight to embalm and entomb Metka, and to grieve their fallen kin properly.

Atem stared at the ceiling of his bedchamber, his thoughts drifting to the king. In his heart of hearts, he was angry with his father, who had set him on such an uncertain path so abruptly. But Atem had never questioned his father's judgement before. Like Atem, the king was a clever strategist, always thinking ten steps ahead. Still, knowing the wisdom behind the plan did little to ease Atem's distaste for being used as a pawn in it.

After tossing from side to side for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, Atem finally threw back his covers and stood. He pulled on a robe, then crept quietly out into the hall beyond.

Torchlight danced upon the cool, shaped stones as he walked deeper into the royal living quarters. He passed his brother's room, from which he could hear Tef's heavy snores and Nebetah & Meriti's whispered sighs. Smiling, Atem continued on until the hall came to an end at two heavy wooden doors. Looking down, he saw light flickering from the crack between the floor and the door, telling him his father may still be awake. With a deep breath, he took the chance and pulled on one of the doors' heavy wooden rings, cracking it open far enough for him to peer in.

His father was indeed awake, sitting at a table in the middle of the room reading papyri by candlelight. At the sound of the door opening, the king looked up, first seeming startled, then relieved.

"Can't sleep?" he said.

Atem, standing half in and half out of the room, gave a meek shake of his head.

"Come in, my son."

After an uncertain pause, Atem obeyed, closing the door behind him and coming to sit in the seat across from his father. The king scribbled a few notes on the parchment in front of him before setting his brush down and looking up.

"Tell me — what keeps you up this night?" his father asked.

Atem was quiet for a moment, his eyes and thoughts distracted by the way the breeze from the window made the candlelight flicker. "I guess," he started quietly, then louder, "I guess I just don't really understand why."

His father looked expectantly at him, and Atem knew it was because he had phrased his concerns so poorly.

"Why her? Why me?"

A smile flickered across his father's face at this, and he took a deep breath. "Did you know that your mother and I had never even met before our wedding night?" he said. Atem raised his eyebrows in surprise. "It's true. You see, at the time Upper and Lower Egypt weren't united like they are today. Lower Egypt, with its access to the lush Nile delta, was better positioned for farming and raising livestock, but they were also less protected from the threat of invaders. Lucky for them, Upper Egypt was known to produce some of the strongest spellcasters in the land. So, my father wisely brokered an agreement with a high-ranking lord of Lower Egypt, asking for his daughter's hand in marriage in exchange for furthering trade and cooperation between the two regions."

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