Trigger warning: Depictions of sexual harassment might be present.
Yetao's eyes darted frantically between Bam and Chen as tension crackled in the air.
"Zababa[1]?" Chen's voice was tight with concern. "Doesn't it mean war if he came here directly?"
Bam's expression hardened into something carved from stone. Without another word, both gods rushed from the library, their footsteps fading into silence.
It took Yetao a moment to process what had just happened.
"Hey, what am I supposed to do with this?" he screamed into the empty space, still bound by the sand ropes that coiled around his limbs like vipers. Only the ancient scrolls witnessed his predicament, and they offered no assistance.
A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as he wriggled against his restraints. The sand was surprisingly resilient, holding firm despite his efforts. After several futile attempts, Yetao paused to consider his options.
Wait... sand plus...
"Water," he whispered, a spark of inspiration brightening his eyes.
Without hesitation, he twisted his neck awkwardly and bit down on the sand ropes, his saliva gradually weakening the binding. After several determined attempts, the restraints finally crumbled at one point, allowing him to wriggle free from the rest.
Yetao immediately spat out the gritty residue, coughing dramatically. "Eww, my mom used to say I didn't even touch sand like other kids when I was little. Now you're making me eat this?" He glared in the direction Bam had disappeared. "Just you wait, I'll add this sand secretly to your meal one day," he vowed to the empty library.
Dusting himself off with as much dignity as he could muster, Yetao made his way toward the palace entrance, curiosity pulling him forward like an invisible thread.
....
The main courtyard bustled with unfamiliar activity. An entourage of foreign soldiers had assembled—broad-shouldered men with armor unlike anything Yetao had seen in the palace thus far. Their expressions were stoic, their posture rigid with military discipline.
These must be the ones making the grumpy king and Chen panic, Yetao reasoned, keeping himself partially concealed behind a pillar.
He watched the palace's main hall, anticipation building in his chest. Will a war really start here?
The massive doors suddenly swung open, and a bearded man emerged, his lips curled in a satisfied smirk that immediately set Yetao on edge. Something about the stranger's demeanor—a predatory confidence—raised alarm bells in Yetao's mind.
Huh? No war then? Confusion replaced his fear as the bearded man strode purposefully not toward his soldiers, but in the direction of the women's wing.
A chill of foreboding raced down Yetao's spine. Without fully understanding why, he found himself hurrying through a side passage, taking a shortcut to reach the women's quarters before the stranger.
When he arrived, the scene appeared deceptively normal—palace women going about their daily tasks, their movements unhurried, faces free of concern.
Didn't that man come here? Where is he? Yetao scanned the area with mounting unease and searched outside.
A voice carried through the still air, proud and unyielding: "I'm not obliged to cater to your requests. Art has a worth, and only the audience that are worthy enough can feel its grace."
Following the sound, Yetao discovered Lisa in the art hall's garden, confronting the bearded stranger. She stood tall and resolute, a vision of defiance in her golden attire while the ladies in behind her trembled visibly.
The bearded man's laughter—a harsh sound like stone grinding against stone—echoed throughout the garden. "What if I report back to my lord that you people were unwelcoming?" His voice dropped to a threatening purr. "I believe a tender-hearted woman like you wouldn't want a war."
Lisa's delicate jaw clenched. "What do you mean?" Her eyebrow arched in challenge.
The man's smirk widened. "Our Zababa values friendly relationships between our territories. I'm just worried this childish behavior of yours might break his heart." Sarcasm dripped from every syllable.
Lisa's hands curled into fists, but she remained silent, trapped by the implicit threat.
"I did not ask for much. Just a dance." The man's eyes gleamed with something dangerous. "After all, you're a dancer. What harm might it do you for a single performance?"
When Lisa still didn't respond, he leaned close, his beard nearly brushing her ear. "I'll take that as a yes," he whispered, just loud enough for Yetao to hear from his hiding place. "I'll be waiting for it tonight."
After the man departed, Lisa's composure cracked. Her chest heaved with barely contained fury.
"Let's inform our king. He will take care of this," one of her friends suggested.
"No." Lisa's response was immediate and firm. "He only knows how to make things worse. I'll handle this on my own." Determination hardened her voice as she swept away, her retinue following anxiously in her wake.
Yetao's skin prickled with unease. Every instinct screamed that Lisa was walking into danger. Though his rational mind urged non-interference—this wasn't his world or his problem—a deeper part of him couldn't ignore the red flags waving frantically in his consciousness.
Chen would know what to do.
With this thought driving him, Yetao sprinted back toward the library.
....
"Chen!" Yetao's shout echoed off the high ceiling as he burst through the library doors.
The God of Knowledge flinched at the unexpected noise, turning from the shelf he'd been examining. Another figure emerged from behind a row of scrolls—Bam, his golden eyes narrowing at the intrusion.
Yetao froze mid-step, his momentum faltering.
"Now you're doing whatever you want in my palace?" Bam raised an eyebrow, his tone deceptively casual despite the threat lurking beneath.
Yetao swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.
"Bam, leave her be," Chen interceded, then turned his attention to Yetao. "What happened, Yetao? Did you come for lessons?"
Yetao's gaze flickered between the two gods, uncertainty making him hesitate. Can I tell him? Lisa said he's a troublemaker. What if he suddenly kills the guy and starts a war?
Bam's raised eyebrow deepened, sending a shiver down Yetao's spine. Turning away from the king's piercing stare, Yetao focused on Chen's more sympathetic face.
Taking a deep breath, he made his decision. "I saw the bearded man approach the king's fiancée."
Bam's expression shifted to one of genuine confusion. "My fiancée?"
"Lisa..." Yetao tilted his head. "Isn't she your fiancée?"
The king merely sighed, leaving the question hanging unanswered in the air.
"He asked her to dance tonight," Yetao continued. "He also threatened her that he'll start a war if she refuses."
Bam's face darkened like a gathering storm. "Who does he think he is? Did the dog of Zababa suddenly think he have the power to order my people?" He moved toward the door with deadly intent, but Chen stepped in his path.
"Bam, this is the time we need to think wisely," Chen cautioned. "He asked for a performance. If we kill him for that, it could violate the peace between us. We need something to prove that we're not at fault."
"You say I should let that dog do whatever he wants and watch like a helpless idiot?" Bam's voice rose to a shout, his control slipping.
Chen remained calm in the face of the king's anger. "Lisa can handle herself. I have faith in her. First, we need to find out why Zababa has sent Makko. I don't think he intends to start a war with this. There must be something else he's planning."
An idea formed in Yetao's mind. "Then why don't you take the scale and ask him?"
"I can't, Yetao." Chen shook his head regretfully. "Using it itself means war—they could say that we're testing them out of nowhere. Second, I cannot use my mother's scale often; it's limited to once in two moon cycles.[2]"
Chen paused, thinking. "I'll go meet Lisa. She'll be playing a big part in revealing our enemy's purpose."
Before they could move, a palace girl rushed into the library, her face pale with alarm. "My King, Lisa has been drugged!"
The three exchanged horrified glances before racing to Lisa's chambers.
....
Lisa lay on her bed, her skin flushed with unnatural heat, her breathing shallow and labored. Bam immediately went to her side, placing his palm on her forehead. Under his touch, the fever visibly receded, and Lisa's expression relaxed into peaceful sleep.
"Now tell me, Seshat," Bam growled, barely contained fury vibrating in his voice. "This serves as evidence, right?"
Chen shook his head. "No. Do we have proof that this is his doing?"
One of Lisa's friends stepped forward. "She did not eat anything after breakfast, which she ate before those men arrived. I don't know how she was drugged."
Bam's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles whitening with the force of his grip.
Yetao observed the dire situation, his mind racing through possibilities. After a lengthy internal debate, he stepped forward. "I'll go in her place."
The pronouncement landed like a stone in still water, sending ripples of shock through the room.
"But—" Chen began to object.
"You don't have to worry about me at all," Yetao interrupted, surprising himself with his own confidence. "If he tries something funny, I'll kick him in his balls. Even your king knows that. Ask him."
The palace girls looked scandalized, while Chen cleared his throat awkwardly. "So... you kicked him in..."
"She fought with the soldiers. Not me," Bam interjected hastily, saving himself from embarrassment.
Yetao realized his mistake and forced a smile to hide his relief. "What I'm saying is... I can handle him if all he wants to see is a dance."
Concern etched itself across Chen's features. "But do you know how to dance? Lisa is the greatest performer in our territory."
"I can handle it, master," Yetao assured him, patting Chen's shoulder with casual familiarity that caused murmurs among the watching palace women. Bam's eyebrow twitched upward once more.
But Yetao was clueless of his surroundings"Just tell me what I need to do after dancing."
Chen sighed in resignation. "Fine. Listen carefully..."
....
Later, in the privacy of the library, Chen outlined the plan while Yetao listened attentively, nodding his understanding when the god finished his explanation.
"Don't worry, master, I'll slay it," Yetao said with a wink before dashing off to prepare for the evening's performance.
Chen stood frozen in confusion. "Slay? What's that? I didn't know such a word existed. How can I not know?" The God of Knowledge seemed genuinely perplexed that a term had escaped his vast vocabulary.
Bam, who had observed their interaction with calculating eyes, waited until Yetao was out of earshot before voicing the question that had been burning in his mind.
"Are you going to marry a human girl?" he asked bluntly.
Chen's shock was evident. "Ehhh? She's just my student," he protested.
"But you are letting her call you Chen," Bam pressed. "You even used to shout at your parents when they misspell something. Then why make an exception for her?"
The question hung in the air, unanswered, as Chen's thoughts wandered into territories he hadn't previously explored.
Their conversation was interrupted by Yetao's reappearance. He was fully dressed for the evening's deception, his transformation nothing short of remarkable.
"I'm all set," he announced, striking a playful pose. "Should I go and smack him now?"
Chen's gaze remained fixed on Yetao, his lips parting in silent awe at the vision before him. Something in his expression softened, as if seeing Yetao—truly seeing him—for the first time.
"I think I might, Bam," he murmured, answering the king's earlier question with a small, amused smile. He moved toward Yetao to review the plan one final time before they departed.
Bam stood motionless, watching the two walk away. I will never allow you to hurt Seshat, he thought, still convinced that Yetao harbored ill intent despite all evidence to the contrary.
....
The guest quarters gleamed with flickering oil lamps as Yetao entered, accompanied by several musicians. Chen and Bam remained outside— to monitor the situation from a safe distance, secretly.
Unwilling to leave anything to chance, Bam summoned a stream of sand that carried him silently to the roof, where he could observe the proceedings through a small opening.
"Since Lisa is unwell, I'll be performing tonight, sir," Yetao announced, his expression carefully balanced between seriousness and approachability.
Makko's lips curved into a predatory smirk. "Hah, I won't complain for a beauty." His eyes widened with unabashed interest as he approached Yetao. "They really hid you well for long."
Without warning, he reached out to stroke a lock of Yetao's pink hair, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.
The hell is this furry guy doing? Ewww... Yetao's disgust roiled inside him, but he maintained an expressionless facade, determined not to offend the foreign envoy and potentially trigger the very conflict they were trying to avoid.
Above them, Bam's fingers twitched with the urge to sever the hand that dared touch what he increasingly thought of as his foreign troublemaker. Sand particles swirled aggressively around his fists, responding to his barely controlled rage.
"If you keep praising me, how can I show you my performance, my lord?" Yetao's voice remained soft and demure, though internally he was screaming: Just get away from me, you jerk!
With a forced smile that didn't reach his eyes, Yetao watched as Makko and his soldiers took their seats. The musicians began a gentle melody, and Yetao moved to the center of the room, his heart pounding with a mixture of determination and trepidation.
Everything now hinged on his ability to maintain this pretense—to dance like his life depended on it. Because in this strange, ancient world of gods and politics, perhaps it is the only think he can be confident about.
Yetao took a deep breath, closed his eyes momentarily to center himself, and then began to move.
[1] Zababa is a Mesopotamian (Hittites) War god. So basically, Hittites is an enemy of Egypt.
[2] Once in two moon cycles- a month