The Pharaoh's princess

The Museum

Renee – POV

A whole week had passed, and Idris and I were getting to know each other. He’d somehow won over both Jacob and Annavi—impressive, since neither of them trusted easily. We were on the school bus now, heading toward the Museum of Ancient Histories in Avondale called the Mythos Archives. Idris sat beside me, animatedly telling me about his old life in Solterra City and his obsession with skateboarding.

I hadn’t had any more dreams or visions since Spring Lake. I kept wondering what triggered them—and how I could unlock more memories of my past life—but I felt stuck.

Idris – POV

Renee was easy to talk to—funny, sharp, observant. I liked that. Still, I was taking it slow. She’d been hurt before. There was a wall I hadn’t yet breached, one that still cast a shadow from that creep at the lake. Tyrese pointed him out to me earlier this week. He was in one of the school’s trophy case photos.

If I’d known who he was back then, I’d have torn off his arm.

After what felt like a lifetime, we finally arrived. My legs were stiff, my butt numb. I practically jumped off the bus to stretch out.

Mr. Smith, ever the know-it-all with secrets, gave Renee and me his usual knowing smirk when we stepped off together. I was convinced now—he remembered everything.

He split us into three groups. Renee and I ended up with Jacob, Annavi, Nick, and that mean girl I secretly nicknamed Super-b***h. Mr. Smith took our group, while Tyrese went off with Principal Hogan’s.

The museum was massive, its halls echoing with centuries of secrets. I immediately veered toward the weapons exhibit—of course. A polished sword, a gold necklace with lapis lazuli, intricately designed sandals, carved figurines... they all gleamed under the lights.

And they were mine.

I didn’t need a memory to tell me that. I knew. Deep in my bones, I recognized them.

In the sarcophagus room, the air grew colder. Dozens of caskets rested behind glass—mummified royalty laid bare for gawkers. I hated it. This was grave-robbing in disguise.

One in particular caught my eye. It shimmered with golden detail, heartbreak echoing in my chest the moment I looked at it.

The plaque read: Princess Neferet.

My heart clenched.

To the right stood another, even more elaborate: Pharaoh Akhenaten.

The king. Her father. From my dreams.

Renee – POV

I was staring at a crown—golden wings spread from the brow, a cobra resting at the top. The tag read: Crown of Princess Neferet.

My crown. This was mine.

Beside it were other labeled items: a red gemstone ring, amulets, even canopic jars. I shivered. Just because it was tradition didn’t make it any less unsettling.

That meant… I died.

I mean, it made sense—these were past life memories—but still. The finality of it sat heavy in my chest.

Wandering into another wing, I found a digital facial reconstruction exhibit. Annavi was glued to one of the displays.

I nudged Jacob and joked, “Careful—she might leave you for a mummy.”

He didn’t laugh.

Neither did she.

They both just stared at me, wide-eyed.

That’s when I saw it. One of the 3D models… looked exactly like me.

My face.

Even the museum attendant did a double take.

I backed away, stunned—and ran right into Mr. Smith.

He chuckled. “You should do your project on her, Renee. The resemblance is uncanny.”

The plaque read: 3D Facial Reconstruction – Princess Neferet.

My breath hitched.

Back in the sarcophagus room, I searched until I found hers. Mine? I didn’t even know anymore. All I knew was that my past-life body was lying in front of me.

The description said she died young. Mourned deeply. No other details.

I asked a nearby curator if more information existed.

He shook his head. “Her tomb was damaged by looters. Most records were lost. There was a scholar—Dr. Yarell—who dedicated his life to her story, but he passed away decades ago. Some of his collected works are sold in our gift shop.”

I decided on the spot—she’d be the focus of my project. I rushed to the gift shop, but the last book had just been sold. Disappointed, I turned to rejoin the group—when something glittered in the corner of my eye.

A hand mirror.

Its handle was engraved with Hathor’s symbol. It looked just like the one in my dreams.

I bought it.

As I walked back, I heard it—my name.

“Renee.”

I knew that voice.

Hathor.

The mirror bag glowed faintly. I grabbed it.

She appeared in a shimmer of light, voice urgent.

“You must leave. You are not safe here. He knows.”

He? Who?

She vanished. And just then, Principal Hogan called our group together.

Time to go.

Unknown – POV

Of course it was her.

I knew it the moment I saw her face projected behind glass.

Set awakened the moment recognition struck.

The fever. The aching. The noise in my skull—it was all part of the memories returning too fast. Set removed a ring and pressed it to my skin, easing the overload.

She had always been precious to Hathor. A priestess. The Pharaoh’s daughter. Mine.

But she rejected me.

So I took her life.

In this life, she rejected me again. Same eyes. Same fire.

But Rahotep is here too.

Last time, he executed me.

This time, I will kill him first.

And she—

She will be mine.

Idris – POV

I searched every inch of the exhibit. Where my sarcophagus should’ve been, there was a note instead: Artifact currently on loan.

No cause of death listed.

I was frustrated. Angry. I needed answers.

Mr. Smith gathered us at the rendezvous point. On the bus ride home, I convinced Renee to sit with me, though she looked lost in thought. After a while, her head slowly tipped and landed on my shoulder.

I didn’t move.

She was safe here.

Let her rest.

So I closed my eyes, and rested too.