The dinner dragged on for nearly an hour before it slowly came to an end.
Shamule hadn’t eaten much himself; he seemed completely absorbed in the enjoyment of feeding his Ankh Ir, finding the Divine Envoy so captivating that he even forgot his own hunger.
It wasn’t until Xin Hexue couldn’t eat anymore, pressing a handkerchief to his lips and doing everything possible to avoid the food Shamule offered, that Shamule finally stopped and set the utensils down on the table.
His large hand rested on the area below Xin Hexue’s ribs, where a slight rise and fall could be felt after the meal. This was undeniably an encouragement to Shamule, as if he had picked up a stray cat that was starving and thin-bellied. Even though this cat had bitten through his palm and scratched his neck within just two short days, he could now hold the cat in his arms, filling its belly spoonful by spoonful with delicious food.
Shamule’s hand couldn’t resist stroking the area around Xin Hexue’s waist and abdomen. This sudden touch startled the cat, causing it to quickly escape from his embrace.
Xin Hexue fled to a spot five or six steps away, with a dining chair still between them. This distance seemed to give him a sense of security, as if he wouldn’t be easily pulled back by Shamule’s large hand.
His lips, which had finally gained a healthy flush after taking medicine and eating, pressed together tightly, and his voice sounded tense. “So, what is your purpose in having me brought to Lower Egypt?”
The look looked at him warily, and the look was no different from an hour ago, before the meal was served.
So, if Shamule thought he could soften the cat’s attitude with a good meal, he was truly delusional.
However, compared to before, the distance between them had silently narrowed.
Shamule grinned, as if he had won the first hand. “I thought you would never take the initiative to speak to me.”
The Divine Envoy stood there, his long eyelashes casting distinct shadows downward, seemingly also regretful at having spoken first.
“Does there need to be a purpose?” Shamule returned to the topic, completely unconcerned about whether Xin Hexue had picked up a dining knife or some other sharp object again. He didn’t mind the mostly finished dishes either, and devoured the remaining food like a whirlwind. “The Pharaoh of Lower Egypt lacks an Ankh. Does that count?”
He rolled meat in a thin wheat flatbread while keeping his eyes on Xin Hexue. This kind of joke-like reason, of course, couldn’t convince the Divine Envoy.
Xin Hexue furrowed his brows, politely refusing. “The vast land of Lower Egypt is enough to select someone capable of sharing power with the Pharaoh. I am not a subject here and cannot take on such a responsibility.”
Shamule drew out his words. “Oh, so it’s not impossible. You’ve already started considering it, haven’t you?”
It was pure nonsense.
Seeing the Divine Envoy purse his lips together and fall silent again, Shamule stated decisively, “It has to be you.”
His sharp, wolf-like eyes fixed intently on Xin Hexue, like a wolf in the wilderness locking onto its prey.
Initially, Shamule only wanted to see what kind of person could make his arrogant, exceedingly annoying elder brother so captivated.
After all, this person had also begun to occupy his thoughts.
He had only caught a glimpse of that hazy snow-like figure in that one hazy dream.
Many times after that, Shamule woke from his dreams to realize that the previous night’s dream wasn’t due to shared senses with his twin brother but rather his own wild and licentious fantasies about that glimpse of snow. It was truly madness.
Even though extreme pleasure and extreme pain could be mutually felt, the feeling of being captivated by someone wouldn’t actually transmit through the blood of twin brothers.
Out of mere jealousy toward his elder brother, he seized the Divine Envoy who belonged to Upper Egypt and brought him here. The moment he saw the young man’s true face, his surging blood felt like scalding magma from a volcano, madly churning, crashing, and erupting within his body.
Those distant fragments of words across the two lands, and those wild imaginings from his hazy dreams, couldn’t compare to one ten-thousandth of the beauty witnessed in person.
Shamule recalled that he should have realized it as a child…he and Rahotep had strikingly similar preferences when it came to things. This was reaffirmed upon seeing Xin Hexue.
It was surprising that they shared identical preferences down to the smallest detail when it came to people.
The moment he clearly saw the wariness in the Divine Envoy’s eyes for the first time, there was only one thought screaming in Shamule’s heart;
Get!
He owned this land, everything within this river basin belonged to him. Since the Divine Envoy had come to Lower Egypt, it was only natural that he should be owned by him.
Whether it was this person or this person’s hatred.
Shamule’s eyes were filled with the flame of victory.
……..
Shamule stayed overnight at Meret Palace.
The servants nervously cleared the remnants from the long table. As night fell, the wind grew stronger. A maid gently and quietly closed the window panels slightly, and the rope tying the drapery was untied. The soft fabric hung down under its own weight, obscuring the sky full of stars over the Nile outside the window.
The Red King was still bathing.
The young man sat at the head of the bed, leaning against the bed frame, gazing absently into the void, his eyes unfocused. His damp silver hair was tied up with a wide cloth by a maid, who continued the unfinished task of drying it.
When he came back to his senses, Xin Hexue found a small jar of ointment pressed into his hand by the maid.
The maid whispered in a lowered voice, her eyes naturally filled with concern. “Divine Envoy, the ointment inside can prevent you from getting hurt. You must remind His Majesty to use it…”
Xin Hexue’s eyes flickered, and he silently took the small jar, placing it under the pillow before lowering his eyes again.
The maid didn’t know what he was thinking and could only carefully dry his hair for him.
The Divine Envoy shouldn’t be treated like this…
Just thinking about it made the maid’s heart tremble. Would their land be cursed for committing such a blasphemous act?
But, all she could do was pray for the Divine Envoy.
Shamule emerged from the bath. The ends of his hair were slightly damp. He was bare from his broad back down to his lean, defined abdominal muscles, the lines of his muscles extending all the way into his loincloth. He loved hunting, and long exposure to the fierce sun had tanned his skin a deep honey color, a stark contrast to Ankh Ir’s complexion.
In his countless dreams, he had seen those snow-white legs hooked over his arms, trembling so much they could barely hold on. Looking down, the extreme difference in skin tone was most apparent at the glistening point of connection, flushed pink amidst the pounded waves of snow.
The single night of shared pleasure with Rahotep had become the source material for his countless indulgent dreams. Shamule was so familiar with it that he knew there was a small red mole below the tenth rib on Xin Hexue’s left side.
So, how could he and Ankh Ir not have been deeply connected in spirit long before they met in person?
Since they were already deeply connected in spirit, didn’t that make them husband and wife?
A slight curve lifted the corner of Shamule’s thin lips.
Suddenly, he caught the scent drifting from the incense burner in the corner. Shamule frowned, his voice cold and deliberate. “I said no incense burning is allowed in Meret Palace. Who lit the incense?”
A servant who usually followed Shamule stepped forward, sweating nervously.
“Take the incense burner out. Extinguish the incense and don’t bring it back in,” Shamule said. “If there’s a next time, you won’t stay by my side either. Go serve at the Sacred Beast Pool.”
After the servant removed the incense burner, the coldness on Shamule’s face faded and he returned to normal. He didn’t want this sudden interruption to ruin the beautiful night ahead.
He strode deeper into the bedchamber, pushing aside the golden-threaded curtains to reveal the bed inside.
Xin Hexue had his back to him, the fabric of his clothing outlining his thin, slender back. He had self-consciously curled up on the inner side of the bed on his own.
Did he deliberately leave the outer side for me?
Shamule raised an eyebrow.
It wasn’t until he got closer that he could see something was wrong.
Xin Hexue was curled up, with a wool embroidered quilt covering him from the waist down. Sweat beaded on his forehead, yet he didn’t seem to feel the heat.
Shamule placed his hand on the other party’s forehead and indeed found it cold and clammy with sweat.
Xin Hexue was frowning tightly, and his eyelashes were trembling uncontrollably, as if trapped in pain.
Shamule wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and leaned closer, his shadow falling over Xin Hexue’s face. “What’s wrong?”
Xin Hexue’s lips were bitten so hard that the edges were flushed with blood while the center turned pale.
Shamule asked, “Where does it hurt?”
Then he raised his voice toward the servants waiting outside the chamber. “Call the physician…”
Before he finished speaking, his hand was grabbed.
A slightly cool temperature transferred from Xin Hexue’s palm to Shamule’s wrist. “No. It’s too late now…”
Only then did Shamule notice that Xin Hexue’s other hand was pressed against his stomach.
The servant outside the bedchamber asked tentatively, “Your Majesty?”
After a moment, Shamule’s deep voice responded, “Nothing.”
The outer side of the bed sank under weight, and a body temperature completely different from Xin Hexue’s enveloped him from behind like a furnace. An arm pulled Xin Hexue’s body closer, while another hand, with the same warmth, pressed down below where the ribs met on both sides.
Shamule had never done such a thing before; his movements were hesitant at first, but eventually, he began to rub slowly and gently. “Does this feel better?”
He had seen his mother do this for his older brother when he had indigestion as a young child. However, as the second son, he did not receive such treatment; his mother would hand him over to her personal maid to care for.
Despite this, Shamule had remembered this method.
A warm palm pressed and rubbed gently on the area of the stomach.
Xin Hexue gave a vague sound of affirmation.
His tense body seemed to relax slightly after confirming that Shamule’s actions held no malice.
Shamule noticed this and snorted. “Do I seem like someone with such overwhelming lust that I would force others regardless of the situation?”
Xin Hexue did not answer.
No answer was tantamount to agreement.
Shamule sneered. The series of interruptions throughout the night had disrupted his rhythm, and he had already resolved to reclaim what was owed next time, and with interest.
When he looked down again, Xin Hexue had fallen asleep in the crook of his arm.
Shamule pressed a hand to his own chest. There was an unprecedented sense of fullness in his heart.
…….
Xin Hexue did not know when Shamule left in the latter half of the night. He pretended to have a stomach ache and smoothly fell asleep.
Shamule returned during breakfast and noticed two sets of tableware conspicuously placed on the table.
He pulled out a chair naturally and sat down, looking at Xin Hexue with great interest. “Did you leave this specially for me?”
Xin Hexue only gave him a faint glance and remained silent, offering no reply.
No answer was tantamount to agreement.
Was this really left for him?
Shamule’s pupils dilated for an instant.
It was as if, from the slightly softened attitude of the Divine Envoy, he had touched that gentle heart.
So… just by acting like last night, he could earn a better expression from Ankh Ir?
Shamule originally thought that simply seizing this person before him would be enough, even if all he gained afterward was this person’s hatred.
The feeling of fullness washed over the banks of his heart like the rising waters of the Nile. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but he did not dislike it.
Shamule cleared his throat and picked up a knife to cut his food.
[Shamule’s love value +10]
Xin Hexue collected the emotions in his eyes and calmly accepted the cut pieces of meat that Shamule offered him.
As the saying goes…a slap…
No, a stab, a cut, and then a sweet treat.
That was precisely the principle.
