Chapter 9
I resist the urge to pace back and forth, knowing that it will look bad if my guest arrives to find me doing that. The doors open and a woman about my age enters with a bouncy jackal at her side. She looks around, seeming a little uncomfortable by the surroundings even though I've had her directed to one of the less fancy receiving rooms.
"Blessed Priestess," I say in greeting.
"Your Majesty," she responds with a stiff bow.
"I'm not Pharaoh yet," I remind her.
"Right, I'm sorry, Your Highness." Her accent isn't quite right, but she seems to be reasonably fluent in Egyptian. "I'm very sorry for your loss."
"Thank you," I respond awkwardly, not knowing how I'm supposed to respond to that. Father would have known. This is the kind of thing he'd tell me about. Pain shoots throu
