PSW Chapter 62: Yano’s Ambition
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"Why… why… why did no one ever tell me that the Pharaoh of Egypt already has a queen consort? Hmm? Hah! So, the King of Egypt has a beloved queen and intends to crown her as his queen? Hahaha! Ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous!"
"……"
"We were the last ones to find out—the last! Why?! Answer me—why?!"
"……"
Yano paced frantically around the room as she spoke, her laughter sharp and unhinged. Her pupils shrank, and her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She looked terrifying—especially when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence, her gray-brown eyes flashing with madness, like a venomous serpent poised to strike. She fixed her deadly gaze on her lady-in-waiting and a male attendant, gritting her teeth as she roared at them.
The lady-in-waiting immediately lowered her head, trembling in fear, not daring to meet Yano’s gaze. The male attendant, however—a man with dark brown skin and unremarkable features—remained unfazed. He merely raised an eyebrow at Yano’s outburst and replied calmly:
"Calm down, Your Highness. You are the only child the great Assyrian king secretly acknowledges. I understand why you are furious, and rightfully so."
"Hah." Yano sneered, her lips curling mockingly. The movement shattered any illusion of the sweet, sunny princess she had once appeared to be, as though breaking a fragile mirage into a million pieces.
"Calm down?" Her gaze sharpened as she stared at him. "Sin, don’t think that just because you serve Saya, I can’t do anything to you."
Before she even finished speaking, Yano lunged forward. The usually stoic man flinched in surprise, raising his arms instinctively to block, but she was faster. With strength and combat skills far beyond what her petite frame suggested, she seized Sin’s arm and drove her fist hard into his chest.
The pain was excruciating—like being struck by an iron hammer.
"Ugh!"
Sin doubled over in agony, only to have his legs kicked out from under him. He crashed to the ground face-first, gasping, as Yano twisted his arm behind his back and pinned him down with ease.
She hadn’t even needed a weapon.
With nothing but her bare hands, she had effortlessly taken down a man who was not only significantly larger and stronger than her but also well-trained in combat.
Her movements had been swift, precise—executed with the same ease as snapping a freshly baked biscuit in half.
"Don't push me to kill you," Yano hissed, pressing harder on his arm. "Your master always claimed to know Egypt better than me, to know him better than me. If it weren’t for that, do you really think I would have partnered with a fallen prince?" She let out a scornful laugh. "And now? Damn it! You and your master ruined my plans—do you even realize that?!"
Yano pressed Sin down firmly. She no longer resembled a delicate and graceful lotus flower. In her current state—dominant, fierce, and exuding an air of superiority—she bore a striking resemblance to either Pharaoh Yofar or the Assyrian King himself.
"Cough… cough…"
Sin, usually silent and cold, did not react with anger. Instead, he laughed, his cough stirring up dust that blew into his own face.
"…You are the most beautiful and the most venomous serpent of them all. Cough, cough! Compared to you, what do those female assassins trained in Lower Egypt even amount to?"
Hearing this, Yano's smile grew even colder.
She had always been different—since childhood, an anomaly whose thoughts transcended those of commoners and ordinary mortals. At the age of five, she had already set the ultimate goal of her life, the thing she desired most.
For that dream, she had traveled alone to Egypt, carefully planning every step.
Her life up to this point could be summed up in two words: acquisition and struggle.
When she was still a little girl, there was a day when the Assyrian King, in an unusual display of fatherly affection, held her on his lap and told her a beautiful fairy tale about love.
But unlike most children, who would have listened with wide, sparkling eyes filled with longing, Yano's reaction was the opposite. She asked her father with disdain:
"Why must women rely on men for happiness and wealth? Why should people pray to the gods for gold to fall from the sky? That will never happen. If you want something, you have to fight for it, take it, and use every ounce of your strength to seize it. Father, I don’t want to hear such stories."
The Assyrian King stared at the little girl on his lap in disbelief. Then, suddenly, he burst into laughter.
"You are truly my child!" he declared to his queen and trusted advisors.
Everyone believed that Yano had won her father’s favor because of her intelligence.
But that wasn’t the whole truth.
The real reason was her ruthlessness.
Yano could pull out her own fingernails without so much as blinking. She shaved off her long hair—something most women cherished. At the age of thirteen, she threw herself into the female gladiator pits, allowing herself to be beaten again and again, constantly teetering on the edge of death.
When she grew older, to prevent her brothers from discovering the scars on her body, she had the priests apply a corrosive potion to her skin, burning away every inch of it. She endured unbearable pain and itching, waiting for a new layer of skin to grow.
What she sought was too precious to her.
At one point, the Assyrian King regretted that Yano had been born a girl.
But that regret soon faded, as he became captivated by her sheer will—one that matched her ambition.
As he grew old and weak, unable to suppress the fierce infighting among his sons, he made a secret decision. Under the pretense of sending his daughter to Egypt for a political marriage, he sought the protection of Pharaoh Yofar Memphis. But in reality, he told Yano:
"Go. A king without achievements or legends is unworthy of the throne—they are merely heirs living in the shadows of their ancestors. Go to Egypt. You know what to do. Survive, return to me, and I will do my best to rid you of your brothers and place you on the throne. You shall become the first Queen in the history of Assyria!"
…
Her father was right. A ruler needed both achievements and legends.
She needed to find a way for the people of Assyria to accept her despite her gender.
That was why she had come to Egypt—to seek possibilities.
If she had stayed in Assyria, even with all the internal strife, even if her five brothers slaughtered each other until only one remained—crippled, even—Assyria’s deep-rooted preference for men and its disregard for women meant she would never be chosen as ruler.
At first, Yano had no intention of doing anything to the Pharaoh of Egypt. She had access to many slow-acting poisons that would leave no trace, and it would have been easy for her to escape suspicion.
But even if she succeeded in assassinating Yofar Memphis and fled Egypt, she would still have to face Egypt’s wrath.
That was when Yano came up with another plan.
She would borrow a child from Egypt’s ruler.
Just as a certain historical queen had done—she would conceive a child with the king of a powerful nation and then return to her homeland to use that child to claim the throne.
A son born from the royal bloodlines of both nations—Assyria and Egypt.
With Egypt's power behind him, the people of Assyria would inevitably start drawing connections. Regardless of the truth, they would believe that Assyria had already formed an alliance with Egypt.
That was why Yano had left that cat for Yofar that day.
She needed to establish a connection with the Pharaoh, stir up rumors.
It didn’t matter if they were true or not.
Once the rumors spread and she claimed to be pregnant, she could return to Assyria. No weapons, no warfare—just a few well-placed whispers.
Even if the Pharaoh was furious and wanted to deny it—what could he do?
Assyria wasn’t some weak, insignificant kingdom.
Would Egypt really dare to start a war over this?
Hah—
Now, with Egypt still recovering from years of warfare and struggling to absorb displaced refugees from fallen nations, Yano had taken extra precautions. Just in case, she had struck a deal with Saya. When the time came for her departure from Egypt, Saya would rally the remnants of the small nations Egypt had previously defeated and form a new state, thereby diverting Egypt’s attention and resources.
Oh, and the child—the child.
No matter whose it was, whether boy or girl, if Yano desired it, the world would ultimately recognize it as "the son of the Egyptian Pharaoh's bloodline."
Her plan had been flawless.
And yet—just as she was preparing to create another ambiguous interaction at the reception banquet, further solidifying the foundation for future rumors—that king dared to announce that he had only one true love?!
"Pfft."
This unexpected public display of devotion struck her plan like a dagger, shredding it to pieces!
Sin, still lying on the ground, felt the killing intent behind him grow stronger and heavier. At last, cold sweat trickled down his forehead.
"Please, calm yourself, Princess," he said hastily. "In truth, the reason Prince Saya did not inform you about the Queen was because… he once infiltrated the palace and had a brief affair with Princess Batrana, the Pharaoh’s second consort. Later, Pharaoh Yofar discovered this… And knowing the Pharaoh's pride, would he ever truly forgive Batrana? That’s why Prince Saya suspects that the Queen must be fake! Yofar Memphis must have fabricated this entire spectacle to mislead his court ministers!"
Yano froze for a moment, her expression unreadable. She stared at him.
"Are you certain?"
Sin struggled to turn his head to meet her gaze, his eyes brimming with sincerity.
"Prince Saya has never deceived an ally. Moreover, he just sent word—he has confirmed the true identity of the so-called Queen. Princess Yano, have you ever heard of the Book of the Dead?"
"The Book of the Dead?"
"Yes. Previously, in Lower Egypt…"
Ten minutes later, Yano finally released him.
Sin climbed to his feet, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension, while Yano, now seated, wore an expression of deep contemplation.
"Whether you believe it or not is your choice. After all, this is just Prince Saya's speculation. But you must think carefully."
Sin fixed his gaze on Yano, narrowing his eyes and whispering, "If it's true, then your opportunity is still there. With your intelligence, you can certainly accomplish much more…"
"I understand."
Yano sneered, casting him a sidelong glance. "But don’t think for a second that I’ll let my guard down around you and your master. If you dare stab me in the back—hmph."
"Perish the thought."
Sin pulled the corners of his lips into a faint smirk and bowed. "I look forward to your good news."
"Does your tail still hurt?"
"It's still a little numb."
_
Inside the royal bedchamber, a pale, cat-eared boy flattened his ears in irritation. The gaudy accessories he had been wearing were now strewn haphazardly across the floor. Bastet frowned, bunching up the hem of his elegant white dress and tying it in a ridiculous knot around his waist, revealing the knee-length shorts underneath and his two slender, pale legs.
As he pulled his tucked tail free from his shorts, he let out a deep sigh of relief, wearing the same expression as a woman undoing her bra after a long day.
"Goddamn it, I nearly snapped my tail!"
Bastet rubbed the base of his tail and grumbled. His makeup was still intact—thick eyeliner accentuated his alluring, cat-like eyes, and cartoonishly cute eyebrows were stuck onto his forehead like stickers. His naturally upturned lips were painted with a glossy red tint, as if he had a fresh, ripe cherry caught between them.
Yofar watched him for a moment, then stepped forward, tugging at his dress before sliding his fingers into the curls at the nape of Bes’s neck. Lowering his head, he captured that ‘cherry’ between his lips.
Out of sheer spite, Bes sucked on Yofar’s lower lip with all his might, smearing the non-long-lasting lipstick all over the Pharaoh’s mouth.
When the kiss ended, Yofar’s usually sharp and icy face was smeared in a mess of red. Bastet couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
"So, how does it feel to wear lipstick, my dear Majesty?"
"Not bad."
Yofar’s half-lidded eyes were deep-set in shadow, making his gaze all the more piercing. He ran his thumb along his lip, then flicked out his tongue to lick away the remaining color.
Watching him, Bastet felt his face and neck slowly heat up, muttering under his breath, "Damn… You’re such a tease."
Yofar had sharp hearing. Catching the remark, he let out a low chuckle and effortlessly scooped Bastet up into his arms. The two exchanged knowing glances before hurrying back to bed—to continue their 'study' of women’s clothing.
"Don't take off the dress. Just like that… You’re truly enchanting, Bastet."
As Bastet clutched his dress and glared at him, Yofar's ice-blue pupils darkened. He leaned in, pressing delicate, lingering kisses along Bastet’s skin…
The next morning.
In his feline form, Bastet struggled to drag his sore waist across the bed, poking his head out from beneath the blankets.
Yofar was already awake and had left for the council chamber. The lingering warmth and scent of another man had long faded from the bedding, leaving Bastet feeling strangely empty.
Waking up alone after such intimacy—it was such an annoying feeling.
Even his body seemed to have matured faster after the previous night, as if he was approaching a certain "time" in his development.
The small, inky-black creature that was Bes hopped off the bed and onto a chair, hooking a claw into one of Yofar’s robes and dragging it back under the covers. Then, like a sneaky little thief, he curled up on top of it, rubbing his paws against the fabric before burying his nose into it.
Taking in the scent of "Yofar molecules," the tiny black beast let out a contented sigh and closed its eyes…
By the time he woke up again, it was already afternoon.
A palace attendant hurriedly lifted the gauzy curtains and called out to him.
"Lord Bastet? Lord Bastet!"
Bastet blinked groggily. "Meow~" What’s up?
The attendant exhaled in relief. "Oh, you’re finally awake! The Assyrian princess has suddenly come to visit. She says she’s not here to see the King—but rather, she wants to meet the Queen…"
"Lord Bastet, shall I inform High Priest Nephthys?"
This attendant was one of Nephthys’s people, privy to the secret behind "Queen Batrana’s" existence.
"Meow?!"
Who?!
Who the hell wants to see me?!
Bastet jolted awake in an instant.
_
[Author’s Note: Little Theater]
Yofar: "Bite down on the dress, Bastet. Good, good, just like that. Cry a little louder, won’t you…?"
Bastet: "…."
Yano: "Breaking news: Seeking a child! Heavy rewards offered! Egyptian Pharaoh preferred!"
T/N: Please give support on my ko-fi page, thank you🍊🍊🍊
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