Chapter 1: The Runaway Princess
In ancient Mitanni...
Princess Nefertiti sat listlessly by the window in the Mitanni palace, her gaze fixed on the beautiful flowers and plants outside. Those vibrant colors, once her greatest joy, now seemed faded and dull to her eyes.
"Princess, Prince Thutmose has arrived!" her maid, Kiya, announced respectfully. Though her tone was deferential, a faint hint of disdain flickered in her eyes if one looked closely.
"What? He's here?" Nefertiti shot to her feet. Her once-languid eyes suddenly brimmed with tenderness, and a faint, fleeting smile graced her lips. He had come—he still held her in his heart.
"Show him in at once!" Nefertiti hurriedly adjusted her dress and jewelry, determined not to let him see even a single flaw.
"Very well," Kiya replied, glancing at Nefertiti before bowing and exiting.
Shortly thereafter, a young man entered, clad in traditional Egyptian shendyt (a type of kilt). His youthful face bore traces of immaturity; he was no more than sixteen or seventeen.
"Thutmose, you’ve finally come!" Nefertiti gazed at her beloved, a thousand words catching in her throat.
"I’ve come to inform the princess that departure for Egypt is tomorrow. Prepare yourself promptly to avoid delays," Thutmose said coolly, ignoring the adoration in Nefertiti’s starry eyes.
Nefertiti was to be given to her father as a gift—a political bride between Mitanni and Egypt. Thutmose had once hoped to claim Mitanni by winning her, but now his plan seemed to crumble.
"Thutmose, do you love me? Do you truly love me?" Nefertiti’s heart shattered at his cold words.
She had known Thutmose for only a few days, yet she was utterly enchanted by his tall, handsome presence. She refused to marry a pharaoh—she wanted only Thutmose.
"Princess Nefertiti, please don’t act this way," Thutmose frowned. He had only shown her slight affection, yet she’d fallen so deeply.
"Let’s run away, shall we? Flee this palace-prison and start anew in a distant land. I’ll abandon my title as princess—I want only you!" Nefertiti clung to Thutmose, hoping to melt his heart.
But Nefertiti didn’t know: Thutmose cared far more about the throne and power than her. Though he was the eldest son, his younger brother Amenhotep had long overshadowed him with his wisdom and decisiveness. Thutmose seethed with resentment.
Gazing down at Nefertiti, who wept in his arms, a flicker of malice crossed Thutmose’s clear eyes. Perhaps he could eliminate Amenhotep—this would bring him one step closer to the pharaoh’s seat.
"Very well," Thutmose pushed Nefertiti away, gripping her shoulders with intensity. "I’ll have Amenhotep wait for you outside the city tonight. He’ll take you to my hideout. I can’t leave with you—it would draw too much attention. Once you’re there, I’ll lead my army to rescue you and kill Amenhotep."
"I’ll go," Nefertiti whispered, her faith in Thutmose unshakable.
"I must go now. See you tonight," Thutmose brushed a hand over her hair and turned to leave the palace.
After Thutmose departed, Nefertiti began packing. She gathered all her jewels and gemstones, determined not to let Thutmose suffer. With these, their life would be better.
Kiya watched from outside the palace, her expression cold. She hurried to the residence of Prince Amenhotep, second son of Egypt, to report what she’d seen.
If Nefertiti fled, the Egyptian pharaoh would blame Mitanni—and the princes responsible. If the eldest prince fled with her, Amenhotep alone would face punishment. No—she couldn’t let Amenhotep suffer.
As night fell, Nefertiti arrived at the agreed spot outside the city. But no one was there. Assuming she’d come early, she sat on a boulder to wait.
Soon Amenhotep appeared, rushing toward her. "Hurry!" he shouted, kicking the horse he led. The animal bolted toward Nefertiti. Before she could react, black-clad men armed with gleaming swords surged from behind Amenhotep.
Panicked, Nefertiti leapt onto the horse and galloped toward the meeting point Thutmose had specified. Oblivious, she failed to notice Thutmose had led her into a trap—a desolate desert with no hope of happiness.
Amenhotep fought fiercely against the attackers. Without Kiya’s intervention, he might have fallen for his brother’s scheme. He’d always revered his elder brother—never imagining betrayal.
Amenhotep could only hope the foolish princess escaped s*******r. If not, her kingdom would be plunged into war—a disaster for Egypt.
Modern Egypt...
The sun dipped low, painting the sapphire Nile in crimson. The river sparkled, its opposite bank a vast expanse of desert. The Nile, veiled like a bashful maiden, looked both beautiful and mysterious.
Standing on the deck, July gazed at the breathtaking scene, utterly enchanted by Egypt. Alas, her summer internship had ended—she and her classmates would soon return to China.
The breeze caressed her face as July lingered, reluctant to leave this ancient, enigmatic land, this turbulent 18th Dynasty.
"Miss Nefertiti, it’s growing late. The desert wind grows cold—you should return to the cabin," the captain said, approaching the deck where July had stood since boarding.
July was of Egyptian-Chinese heritage; her father was Egyptian, giving her partial Egyptian ancestry. Due to her parents’ work, she’d grown up in China.
Her father had named her Nefertiti, after the most famous queen of ancient Egypt, the "Beauty Who Approaches" of the 18th Dynasty.
"No, thank you. The ship will dock soon—I’ll stay here," July declined, remaining at the rail.
The captain nodded and returned to the wheelhouse, accelerating the ferry to reach the port before dark. The students needed to catch their flights; he couldn’t delay them.
Soon the ferry docked. July and her classmates disembarked, their pre-booked taxis waiting. As she boarded the taxi, July glanced back at the Nile bathed in sunset, her heart heavy with reluctance.
"Reluctant to leave? Because of a handsome man in your dreams, Princess Nefertiti?" her friend Xu Xiaoyan teased.
Xu’s words only deepened July’s gloom. She thought of the recurring nightmare: a story of an Egyptian pharaoh.
In the dream, the protagonist was Nefertiti, Egypt’s most beautiful queen, and the leading man was Akhenaten, the 18th Dynasty pharaoh infamous for his ugliness. But in July’s dreams, Akhenaten was strikingly handsome, not the grotesque figure of statues.
Though she’d tried to explain her visions, others dismissed them as "obsession." Yet July knew her dreams felt vividly real—at times, she even wondered if she was Nefertiti.
Xu, noticing July’s distraction, shrugged and rejoined their laughter.
The taxi soon reached the airport. After retrieving their luggage, the group chatted as they headed to the terminal. July trailed behind.
Suddenly, a black cat approached, its amber eyes fixed on her with such sorrow that July’s heart ached. She set down her suitcase, picked up the cat, and stroked its silky black fur.
"Forgive me—my cat disturbed you," a rich, magnetic voice interrupted.
July looked up, meeting a pair of sapphire-blue eyes as deep and enchanting as the Nile. She lost herself in their gaze.
"Pardon?" The man smiled, waving a hand before her face. His voice was warm.
"Nothing... here," July stammered, handing the cat back. Thanks to her Egyptian heritage, she understood his language perfectly.
The man’s face mirrored Akhenaten’s—striking eyes, high nose, slightly full lips. Could reincarnation be real?
Noticing July’s shock, the man’s smile deepened. He placed a hand on her forehead; a white light spread slowly across her skin.
"Do you remember me, Nefertiti?" he asked.
His words felt like a dream. The face before her matched the one from her recurring visions. Was this Akhenaten? How had he come to the modern world? Why call her Nefertiti?
Memories flooded her: the pharaoh, the 18th Dynasty, the dreams. Had fate orchestrated this? Or had her name—given by her father—sealed her destiny?
Before she could process it, her mind reeled. Figures from New Kingdom Egypt paraded before her: some smiling, some haggard, some furious. Strangers memories flooded her consciousness.
Nefertiti, Amenhotep, Thutmose—the palace of ancient Egypt. Her head throbbed, unable to reconcile these alien thoughts.
"Return to me, Nefertiti. Do you know how I’ve suffered without you? I need you!" The voice echoed, a siren call to her soul.
"Yes," July whispered, her eyes glazed.
The man smiled, his sapphire gaze blazing. Suddenly, the airport roared with wind, sand swirling wildly.
July and the man were engulfed in a golden haze. Onlookers in the terminal gasped; Xu Xiaoyan tried to rush out but was blasted back by the gale.
As security herded passengers indoors, Xu caught a flash of white light—and then both July and the man vanished.
The wind died. The terminal’s exterior was bathed in sunlight, the sandstorm gone as if it had never been.
Xu pushed through security, staring at the empty tarmac. If not for her missing friend, she’d have thought it a hallucination.
July felt her body tear apart, pain radiating through her limbs. Her mind churned with images of ancient Egypt—figures, palaces, memories not her own.
"Ah!" She gasped, jolting awake. The pain vanished as suddenly as it had come.
Rubbing her aching forehead, July sat up, exhausted. She paid no heed to her surroundings.
"Princess, you’re awake?" A maid, Kiya, stood by the bed, her eyes blazing with envy.
Nefertiti had escaped—yet here she was, returned. Kiya would always be a maid, while Nefertiti remained a princess. Why did fate favor her so?
July started at the term "princess." She looked up to see a girl in a white dress adorned with gold, silver, and gemstone headbands, a gem-studded belt around her waist.
This was no modern outfit—it resembled ancient Mitanni attire. Where was she?
And why could she understand the maid’s language, a dialect similar to but distinct from Egyptian?
Frowning, July tried to recall her time at the airport. Memories swirled; she pieced it together: the mysterious man had brought her to ancient Mitanni.
The maid called her "princess"—was she really Nefertiti of Mitanni? Which pharaoh ruled now?
"Princess, have you lost your memory?" Kiya asked, seeing July’s confused silence.
"Who is the current king?" July blurted, startled to hear her own voice in the same dialect. How could she speak ancient Egyptian?
Kiya froze. "Princess, what’s wrong? You are Nefertiti, daughter of King Tushratta!"
Nefertiti? July’s eyes widened. She was Nefertiti—the legendary queen of ancient Egypt? Could this be... a time travel?
