PSW Chapter 47: Understood
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A month later.
The sun had barely begun to emit a faint orange glow, and the stars in the sky had yet to retreat along with the night. As dawn approached, a new day in ancient Egypt quietly unfolded.
In the royal bedchamber, the maids and royal guards switched shifts in silence. The incoming maidservants carried washing essentials in their hands, lowering their heads as they followed the head lady-in-waiting through the guards’ inspection. With careful, unhurried movements, they pushed open the grand doors of the sleeping chambers.
They stepped inside, lifting the gauzy curtains and approaching the king’s bed. Behind them, a maid in a simple white dress twirled gracefully, turning to light one lamp after another. Meanwhile, the ones in the front row were responsible for serving their already-awake, handsome ruler—helping him wash his face, dress, and apply his morning makeup.
Under the severe gazes of the senior attendants, they moved as silently as dust settling on the ground, their entire focus on serving Egypt’s sovereign. Yet, beneath the covers on the royal bed, a small, rounded lump stirred ever so slightly.
The gaze of the striking Pharaoh, who had been watching all this, sharpened instantly. His golden-feathered eyelashes trembled slightly, and beneath them, his icy blue eyes filled with displeasure.
The maids shrank back as the head lady-in-waiting shot them a harsh glare. In their flustered state, they quickly retreated, kneeling on the floor.
The king stepped past them and made his way to the bed. His face remained stern as he bent down, slipping a cool, pale hand into the snug folds of the blanket.
A moment later, the lump under the covers squirmed more noticeably. There was a soft rustling, followed by a small pop—a fluffy little head with curled black cat ears emerged from the blankets.
A rare hint of amusement flickered across Yofar’s usually cold expression.
"Mmm… so early again…"
A drowsy, slightly hoarse voice murmured—sweet, like a red bean bun, with a hint of petulance.
The little feline yawned, revealing tiny sharp teeth and a pink mouth. Its half-lidded emerald eyes drowsily scanned its surroundings. Upon realizing that the sun hadn’t yet fully risen, it immediately tried to burrow back into the blankets.
Yofar hummed in acknowledgment and cupped the little one’s face, stopping him from retreating under the covers. "It’s almost dawn, Bastet. Turn back into a cat and come with me to the council chamber."
"Not going. Too sleepy. You go by yourself today."
"Bastet."
"Not going!"
Yofar’s handsome, pale face darkened a shade.
Bastet tugged at the blanket, his eyelids too heavy to stay open. When Yofar wouldn’t let him bury himself back under the covers, the sleepy boy sniffled pitifully in protest. Then, instead of resisting, he rubbed his soft, chubby face against Yofar’s cool palm in a fawning gesture, puckering his lips into a ridiculous pout. His lips glistened with the little bit of drool he had unconsciously left while sleeping.
"Bastet." Yofar called in a low voice, his thumb gently rubbing over the boy’s nose and cheek. He cradled Bastet’s face in his palm, letting his thumb press lightly against the naturally upturned lips.
His face was very close. From the maids’ perspective, it almost looked like those faintly pink lips were about to touch the boy’s—or had they already?
The lady-in-waiting and the maids hurriedly lowered their heads, fearing they might see something they shouldn't and bring disaster upon themselves.
"Be good, Bastet. Turn into a cat and sleep. I’ll carry you with me."
"Ugh." Bastet turned over with a pout, impatiently rubbing his face against Yofar’s palm. "Stop calling me. I'm begging you, okay? Is there a bed in the council chamber that's more comfortable than mine?! You discuss politics, I don't even understand it. And who brings a cat to work anyway… Hey! Don’t touch my tail! I’ll bite you!"
A shiver ran up his tailbone, making him tingle. Furious, Bastet yanked his tail out of the man's other hand, warning him with sharp words. But when Yofar began to withdraw his hand, the sly little cat had already opened his mouth—bite, bite… err, three bites in total.
Not only did he cover Yofar’s hand in drool, but he also left behind several faint little bite marks from his cat teeth.
Yofar: …
The victorious cat smugly revealed his ugly true nature. "I told you I was going to bite before I did. It’s not my fault you didn’t dodge." He snickered.
Fearing punishment, Bastet hastily retreated under the covers, tucking his head inside like an ostrich. He pretended not to see Yofar’s darkening expression.
Yet, Yofar, crouching beside the bed, wasn't as angry as Bastet had expected.
He lowered his head slightly, his platinum hair catching the light as it elegantly cascaded over his shoulders. Cold and composed, Yofar raised his hand and stared at the fresh bite marks and glistening saliva on his palm.
It… tickled.
As he kept staring at it, some unknown thought crossed his mind. Before he realized what he was doing, he slightly lowered his eyelashes, tilted his head, and flicked out the tip of his crimson tongue—slowly running it across his palm.
The soft flesh of his lower lip brushed against his skin, an intimate and delicate touch. Like a match striking against a matchbox, a spark of desire and sensuality ignited, illuminating the depths of his dark blue eyes.
It was… sweet.
The wetness curled around his tongue, and the taste reached his brain, delivering a single conclusion: overwhelmingly sweet. And his heart… craved more.
Yofar parted his lips slightly, lowering his head further, his long hair falling to shield his face.
"Tsk~"
A faint sound accompanied the last drop of sweet nectar disappearing between his lips.
Then, as if startled awake, Yofar froze. He abruptly pulled his lips away from his palm. He stood up so fast that his expression turned unreadable, his cold face caught in an unfathomable emotion, his blue eyes clouded and stormy.
What am I doing…? Am I insane?!
Yofar clenched his hand against his chest, his fingers gripping the fabric of his robes.
The servants kept their heads down. In the silent palace, Yofar could only hear one thing—his own heartbeat.
Thump, thump.
Louder than ever before, so loud it was driving him mad.
After a moment, Bastet, still hiding under the covers, sensed Yofar’s presence moving away from the bedside. Peeking through a small gap in the blanket, he caught a glimpse of Yofar’s retreating figure.
With a small sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and curled up into a ball.
Ever since I gained the ability to turn human, I seem to be getting sleepier… My brain just won’t— Yawn~ Bastet smacked his lips and drifted off into a deep slumber.
…
Today, the king was in an exceptionally bad mood.
Well.
Perhaps “bad” wasn’t the right word.
The ministers sneaked cautious glances at the man sitting on the throne, perplexed.
The handsome king lounged lazily, draped in white robes, adorned with a royal crown, jewels, and accessories—an embodiment of a cold and aloof deity. He barely acknowledged the ministers, his sharp ice-blue eyes heavy with thought, staring intently at a particular spot.
One moment, something would cross his mind, and his lips would curve into a soft, gentle smile, warm like the golden glow of the setting sun.
But in the very next second, his expression would twist as if recalling something unpleasant, his brows furrowing, an invisible chill filling the air.
And then he’d switch again—hot and cold, unpredictably alternating between warmth and frost, his mood shifting in all directions without warning. It was impossible to tell whether Yofar was pleased or upset!
The ministers: …
Hesse: …
Nephthys: … Wait, what the hell—did the king just get his period?
Ministers, who were accustomed to reading the king’s expressions to gauge his mood, were now trembling in fear as they delivered their reports in the council chamber. Whenever they happened to speak just as Yofar's face darkened, their hearts nearly leaped into their throats.
Even Nephthys and Hesse, the two closest aides standing by the Pharaoh’s side, were not spared from this torment.
Everyone gritted their teeth and endured until noon, when the cold and beautiful king finally called for a break and ordered the maids to prepare lunch.
The council chamber had a small dining area, with separate private rooms for the ministers and the king to eat.
Relieved, the ministers kept their heads low, their faces brimming with barely suppressed smiles as they hurriedly rushed off. Their feet barely touched the ground as they dashed toward the small dining rooms, not daring to look back.
Being a dignified and aloof high priest didn’t mean one had a stronger heart than the rest.
Even Nephthys couldn’t stand it any longer. He walked at a brisk pace and even turned to Hesse, furiously blinking as if urging him to hurry up. Once they were close enough, Nephthys lowered his voice and asked:
"What’s going on today? Alina said that Bastet also slept with the king last night, so why didn’t he come with him? My arms are practically numb from the cold."
Hesse fell silent for a moment, tightening his grip on his staff. "The king let Bastet sleep in the royal chamber again last night?"
"Of course, what else?" Nephthys sighed. "Hesse, what’s wrong with you? Last time, you even suggested that Bastet should sleep in the side hall. Didn’t you see the king’s expression? If I hadn’t smoothed things over, you might have been sent to the temple for self-reflection again."
"Bastet transforms into a human at night."
"Huh?"
"At night, he's not a cat—he's a human! And since he’s human, yet neither a concubine nor a consort, how can he be allowed to stay in the king’s bedchamber and sleep on the royal bed?!"
Hesse’s face darkened, and the veins on his forehead throbbed. The more he observed the interactions between the king and that cat, the more restless and anxious he became. But he dared not voice his concerns recklessly, fearing that doing so might actually make the two of them realize something they hadn’t yet considered.
Ever since discovering that Bastet, in his human form, had slept in the king’s bed for two consecutive nights, Hesse himself had barely gotten any sleep.
Nephthys, unaware of Hesse’s internal turmoil, was startled by his sudden outburst and looked at him in surprise. She was quick-witted and, after pondering for a moment, cautiously asked, "Hesse… are you worried that the king will favor Bastet in that way?"
Royalty and nobility did sometimes keep male lovers, but same-sex relationships were still largely frowned upon and rejected by most people. Nephthys had never heard of anyone who truly spent their entire life with another man.
In Egypt, where bloodline inheritance was of utmost importance, taking wives and bearing children was an eternal law, engraved by both the gods and nature itself.
Hesse stiffly nodded. "Yes. I've considered that possibility. The king has never been someone prone to strong emotions, yet now his entire focus is on Bastet. I fear that one day he might truly favor him in that way—and if that happens, he may never take a queen."
"Relax, that day will never come."
Nephthys’ voice was firm and unwavering, her expression so certain that Hesse couldn’t help but frown in doubt.
"You’re being foolish, Hesse."
Nephthys chuckled softly, gazing at him with gentle eyes. "Tell me, have you ever seen the king kiss Bastet? And I don’t mean on the forehead—I mean here." She tapped her own lips.
In Egypt, when a warrior or a person of high status kissed a subordinate or a commoner while presenting them with a token bearing the seal of Min—the god associated with masculinity and, to some extent, male relationships—it signified an exclusive, intimate bond. Under the witness of the gods, the two would swear an oath, with one as the dominant figure and the other as the subordinate.
This bond was akin to a same-sex marriage, though with significant differences.
For example, even after entering such a contract, the bonded pair was still expected to take wives or purchase female slaves to bear children. They had no legally recognized "wives," but they could share a female slave who would bear their offspring.
Furthermore, these unions were not protected by Egyptian marriage laws, and no official blessings were given. Even the temples remained closed to them. Their relationship relied entirely on mutual trust and emotions.
If the subordinate partner in the contract betrayed the dominant partner, the dominant one had full legal rights to behead them.
On the other hand, if the dominant partner betrayed the subordinate… well, no one would care.
For those who were unfaithful, marriage laws were often little more than empty words.
And yet, there were always those born different. Thus, it was not uncommon for men to form these sacred bonds before Min. The only real point of contention was determining who would take the dominant role.
Hesse froze. The rigid and traditional high priest averted his gaze from his colleague’s lips, his face tightening in discomfort at the mere mention of such matters.
He shook his head. "No… I haven’t."
Nephthys smiled. "Then there’s nothing to worry about."
"..."
She reassured him, "Believe me, Hesse, I’ve considered all of this. In fact, I know for certain that it’s only a matter of time before the king indulges in Bastet. The best course of action for us is to stay out of it—self-preservation comes first. The king will have an heir because he is the king. Our job as his subordinates is to deal with those who have other… ambitions."
From the moment Yofar Memfis ascended to the throne and shouldered the fate of Egypt, he had been bound by the responsibilities of a ruler.
Thinking of their king’s rationality and decisiveness, Hesse found his anxiety somewhat alleviated.
"Perhaps you're right, Nephthys. I never seem to see things as clearly as you do. Thank you for reminding me."
He closed his eyes briefly and released his grip on his staff, offering a self-deprecating smile. Nephthys, on the other hand, playfully winked at him.
"You’re welcome~. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, ‘Madam’ High Priest~."
"…"
Madam?
The moment of camaraderie between colleagues shattered instantly. The High Priest Hesse, who had just been touched by Nephthys’ insight, gritted his teeth and gripped his staff tightly, ready to beat the living daylights out of her.
But Nephthys did have a point.
Hesse thought: At least the king hasn’t realized anything yet. Given his personality, it will probably take him a long time to notice… or better yet, let’s hope he never realizes it at all!
Hesse fervently prayed to the Sun God:
O great Sun God Ra, please bless Egypt. Please bless our king. Please let him remain oblivious… Let him remain oblivious… Let him remain oblivious… Let him remain—
Thank you!
The Divine Realm.
The Sun God, listening to the prayers of his followers: "…"
Ra, cleaning out his ears: "Hmm? Bless… realization?"
"Oh. Got it."
[Author’s Note: [Bonus Scene]]
Sun God Ra: "Oh. Got it."
Hesse: "…Shit."
Yofar: "Many thanks to the gods for their assistance. Also, I don’t know if I’ve realized anything yet, but I do know that I want to taste Bastet’s saliva."
Bastet: Cat face turns bright red.
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My guy just shot himself imn the foott XD out here doing cupids work in the Egypt department
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