"Damn it," I muttered as I looked down at my side. The deep cut that had nearly knocked the breath out of me a few hours ago was already shrinking. There was no blood left, just a fresh scar.
I grabbed a water jar and rinsed the wound. I had to do it, even though I knew that by morning there would hardly be a trace of it. If anyone saw, they'd start asking questions.
The door creaked open and Karem stepped in. "You look like you got trampled by a horse."
"I feel better than I look," I replied with a small smile and grabbed a strip of clean cloth to wrap around my side.
Karem leaned against the wall, watching me. "It still blows my mind that you can sit there talking after having a hole through half your side just a few hours ago."
"It blows my mind too," I admitted with a crooked grin. "Looks like I'll just have to get used to it."
Carefully, I pulled the bandage tight across my chest and felt the tissue beneath it shift. My body was working faster than it should. There was a faint burning sensation — a sign that the wounds were already closing.
"Immortality," I said, letting out a short, bitter laugh. "Everyone thinks it's a gift. But when you see it up close… it's strange. Almost frightening. Every wound seals itself, like I'm just a lump of clay snapping back into shape."
Karem smiled, though there was still worry in his eyes. "One day, maybe I'll get used to it."
"One day," I nodded. "But for now, this stays between us. No one else can know."
I tied off the knot on the bandage and pulled my tunic back over my head. No more blood stains. I walked over to the polished metal mirror in the corner. I looked tired, but not like a man who'd nearly been killed.
"There," I said, glancing back at Karem. "If anyone sees me now, they won't suspect a thing. And that's exactly what I need."
Karem nodded. "You're insane, Amenemhet. But at least you're the kind of insane that knows what he's doing."
"And that's exactly why I'm still alive," I replied with a faint grin, stepping toward the door.
I opened it and looked at Karem still leaning on the frame.
"Go get some rest," I told him. "You've done enough for today."
Karem smirked and straightened up. "Rest? Maybe tomorrow. Tonight, there are still plenty of women waiting for me to visit."
He tilted his head, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "And this time, I'm sure they won't be murderous whores."
I couldn't help it — I burst out laughing. "Just make sure you wake up in one piece tomorrow."
Karem laughed, nodded, and disappeared down the hallway. I closed the door behind him, and the room fell silent.
For a moment, I leaned against the doorframe and smiled to myself. Despite everything that had happened today, that man still managed to make me laugh. And I needed that more than I'd ever admit.
When I was finally alone, I sat down on the mat and closed my eyes for a moment. The silence felt deafening after everything that had happened. I realized this was the first festival night I hadn't spent with Neseret. Every other year, I had at least gone to see her for a while — even if I never joined the celebrations.
I looked down at my side. The cut was now just a thin red line, barely visible. In a few more hours, even that would disappear. Only a faint tightness in my muscles and a slight burning when I breathed remained.
"Just a little longer," I muttered to myself. Better to wait until it was completely closed before showing myself. I couldn't go to her with bloodstains on my clothes.
I pulled on a clean tunic and threw a long cloak over my shoulders. It was already past midnight, but the festival was still alive — faint laughter, music, and shouting echoed through the streets.
I stepped out into the night and made my way toward Neseret's house. I knew her son would be with his grandmother tonight — just like every year. It was the one night she allowed herself to relax and forget she was a mother.
When I reached her house, I noticed the door was slightly open. Inside, a small fire was burning, casting light across the walls. I stepped in quietly, not wanting to startle her.
She was sitting on the mat, legs crossed, holding a cup of wine. Her hair fell over her shoulders, her eyes soft and a little tired from drink. When she saw me, she smiled faintly.
"I knew you'd come," she said softly.
I sat down across from her. "I couldn't let this night pass without seeing you."
For a moment, we just sat there in silence. Her eyes flicked to my side.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
I nodded. "Just a scratch."
She didn't seem convinced but didn't press further. Instead, she handed me the cup of wine. "Here. Drink. It's a feast night."
I gave in — I accepted the cup and drank. It was sweet and heavy.
"You look tired," she said with a small smile. "But I'm glad you're here."
I looked at her and smirked. "So, did you find someone to spend the night with? The festival is meant for celebrating, after all."
She smiled, a little slower than usual. The wine was already speaking for her. "No. I'm still waiting for one man," she said softly, but there was fire in her eyes.
I raised an eyebrow. "Then he must be someone important if you've waited for him this long."
She nodded and leaned closer to me. "He is. Every year I wait for him. And every year he comes. And tonight, he's here again."
For a moment, there was silence. The small fire in the room cast its glow across her face. I realized she was talking about me.
"Neseret…" I began, but she cut me off.
"It's time, Amenemhet," she said plainly. "Everyone knows you come here. That you're always here when I need you. People are already whispering. Why should you keep leaving? Why can't we be together as man and woman?"
Her voice wasn't accusing, but soft and honest.
"Everyone already sees it," she continued, placing her hand on my knee. "So why not admit it? Why pretend there's nothing between us?"
I felt her grip my knee, her breath mixing with mine. The smell of wine on her was stronger now, but I knew she was telling the truth. This wasn't just the wine – this was what she had been holding inside for a long time.
I looked at her, at her eyes staring at me with expectation. Deep inside, an old reflex stirred — the memory of love I once felt, the love the gods had taken from me.
"Neseret…" I began again, my throat tightening. "You know I care about you. But…"
I took a deep breath and caught her hand to stop her. "Neseret… if I'm going to be honest, completely honest, then you have to know the truth."
She straightened, her eyes widening. "The truth?"
I nodded. "I am not just a man who came here to help. I'm not even from this time. I came from far away… from a time that doesn't exist yet. I can see the look on your face – yes, it sounds insane. But it's the truth."
She stared at me silently, but she didn't run. She didn't even flinch. That gave me the courage to go on.
"In my time, I was a servant. A eunuch," I said slowly. "I taught a princess who grew into a woman I… loved. But fate never allowed us to be together. And when I finally had to leave, the gods offered me a choice – to be freed from that love, so it would no longer burn me."
Neseret frowned, not fully understanding. "And you agreed?"
I nodded. "Yes. I couldn't bear it any longer. Hathor took my love. She took away my ability to feel. Since then, I can remember everything, but I feel nothing. I can see beauty, I can recognize right and wrong, but my heart is silent."
Silence fell after my words. Neseret looked at me as if trying to process what it meant.
"So that's why… that's why you were always so distant," she whispered.
"Yes," I said. "But Hathor also told me something else. She told me that if I ever found love again – if my heart woke up – she would never be able to take it from me again."
Neseret stared at me for a long moment. Then her gaze softened. "And do you think… that I could be the one?"
I didn't answer immediately. I was quiet, but I knew this was the moment I had to admit it to myself too.
"Maybe," I finally said. "I don't know how I'll be sure. But when you're here, when you're near me… for the first time in years, I feel like something inside me is starting to wake up."
Neseret smiled at me. Not the drunk, carefree smile from moments before – but a sincere, soft, gentle one. She reached forward and embraced me.
"Then don't be afraid," she whispered. "I can wait until you feel it fully. I won't force you. But I don't want you to stand before me like a shadow anymore."
I wrapped my arms around her, and for the first time, I truly felt something shift inside me. It was only a small spark, but it was there – and that was enough.