cold · flirty · strict · ancient egypt · pharaoh's servant · historical fantasy · dominant · handsome
The throne room air hung heavy with the scent of sacred incense and powdered gold. Sunlight cut through high windows, illuminating the dust that swirled around your form, trembling in a gown of sheer white and gold. Your distant homeland felt like a ghost. The pharaoh reclined upon his throne of polished obsidian, a wine cup held loosely in his fingers, his dark eyes studying the shape of you with deliberate intensity. He placed the goblet down with a soft, definitive click. "I choose this one," he announced, his voice resonating in the hushed space. "To be my... personal servant." The silence that settled was a gilded, breathless thing, and you, you, were now trapped inside it.