Sehemhet's Promise

Quick warning: there's nothing sexy in this chapter. It rounds out the story and provides closure, but there isn't so much as a decent grope. My apologies -- it just didn't fit in with what was happening.

- Chicklicks xoxox

When Anabeth woke, Sekhemkhet was still beside her, his arm draped around her waist as he slept. As quietly as she could, she slipped from her bed, picking up her dressing gown from where it had fallen on the floor, and went to the washroom.

With the door closed, she looked at herself in the mirror, needing to take stock of the situation that she was now in. Her face was flushed, and her hair was a mess. She looked as wild as her thoughts.

Concentrate

, she instructed herself. She didn't have much time.

First, and most importantly, she had to define what was happening with Sekhemkhet. He had made it clear, in his slippery way, that they would not be married unless she bore his child, which coincided with what Wadjet had claimed. Anabeth was almost certain that she could not mother his children, so where did that leave her?

Anabeth resolved that she would get an answer from Sekhemkhet this morning:

if she is not Henutsen reincarnated, then what does that mean for them

? If he avoided the question, or refused, then no answer would have to suffice as an answer in itself.

Her lack of feelings over that possibility gave her pause. If there was no future with Sekhemkhet, why was she not afraid? Why was she not heartbroken? Was it possible that lust could exist in by itself, without real love affecting her?

This led her inexorably to her other problem. As soon as she began to think about William, she began to worry. Had she wounded him yesterday? Would he consider it a rejection? Would he still want her now? Anabeth wondered how it was possible to have so many conflicting feelings about the one man.

As Anabeth looked at herself in the mirror, she felt the realisation wash over her. The answer was glaringly simple. Two men -- one who brought forth very little emotion, and another who brought forth so much. Again, Beth was frustrated by her lack of understanding. She felt as though she needed a book on the subject -- a clear and concise guide to whether or not you are in love.

Whether or not it was love, the pressing matter at hand now was what to do about it. Anabeth had to tell Sekhemkhet that, despite agreeing to stay in Egypt, she would not be his Queen. She

could not

be his Queen, for a multitude of reasons.

Beth looked to the mirror again and nodded at herself, then ran the tap and splashed some water on her face, before patting it dry. She took a comb through her hair and retied her dressing gown before turning to the door.

It is best to have it done with

, she told herself.

The sooner, the better.

However, when Anabeth opened the bathroom door, her bedroom was empty.

The bedsheets lay flat and lifeless on the bed. She moved to the balcony and checked there, but there was no sign of Sekhemkhet. His clothes from the night before had disappeared as well.

So much for that plan

, Anabeth thought. Perhaps it was for the best, though. It would be smarter to speak to William first. Especially after what happened to Robert. A ripple of shame ran through her to think that she had just abandoned the man to an asylum. He wasn't her first choice to marry, but he didn't deserve that.

Turning to her wardrobe, Anabeth started to get ready for the day. Her first stop would have to be the museum, just to show face. Then she planned to go to Sophia's, which she conveniently had the address for on her invitation to the dinner next week. Anabeth just hoped that William was staying with his Aunt.

**********

It was four in the afternoon. Anabeth was drenched with sweat and she was in a foul temper.

Beth had visited the museum quickly once she had readied herself for the day. What should have been a quick visit unravelled into something horrible when, as she was about to leave, Beth found Sekhemkhet's office door open. He was sitting at his desk, scouring over the information in front of him.

Beth knocked gently, once, on the door.

Sekhemkhet looked up, but he did not welcome her. "You may come in," he stated, looking back at his work immediately.

"You were gone this morning," Anabeth said quietly, trying not to disturb him. She had things to say, though -- not

everything

, but something. Something to assuage her of the guilt.

"You were out of bed when I awoke," Sekhmekhet murmured. He tutted and moved some things around. Beth realised he was plotting markers on a map -- a huge map -- of the city. "I assumed I was no longer needed."

"It isn't a problem," Beth amended quickly. "I just thought it would be enjoyable for us to speak. We never speak."

Sekhemkhet lifted a hand and waved it slightly through the air. "Speak now, if you like."

That was her invitation, Anabeth realised. This was her opportunity -- she could tell him a little part, just a small indication that the tide was turning. She could remind him that they had made no real promises to each other. She could tell him that, in her

heart

, she knew that she was not Henutsen, and that he was wasting his own time with her when he could be out there finding the real Henutsen. They could discuss all of this, she imagined, in a civil and polite way.

"I had lunch yesterday," Anabeth began, wetting her lips. Her mouth was so dry all of a sudden. "With William Egerton. Have you met?"

Sekhemkhet made a small humming noise, his eyes still scanning the map. She did not have his attention. "I do not believe so," he answered, drawing out the words, as though his subconscious was having to come up with them for him.

"We visited a small restaurant in the centre of the city. It was lovely," Anabeth admitted, though she assumed he was not listening.

"Who was with you?" Sekhemkhet finally looked up from his map. He sounded disinterested, however in giving her his full attention, Anabeth knew that he had picked up on something.

"No one, we went alone," Anabeth admitted, trying not to look at him for too long. She felt guilty.

We made no promises

, she reminded herself. Was that really the truth, though? Was agreeing to stay a promise of the future?

"You will not see him again," Sekhemkhet said, turning back to map in front of him. He continued to plot with his fingers as a guide. His tone had not changed. Curious how a man can give such rude orders with so little regard for how they are said.

Anabeth was taken aback by this flippant tone. How dare he decide where she goes, or who she goes with? And with such little regard. "I'm sorry," she began, her head cocking to one side as her brow furrowed. "I must be mistaken, but are you trying to give me an order?"

If Sekhemkhet had heard her, he did not let on.

"I asked you a question," Anabeth persisted, gaining herself a sharp look.

"And it was a foolish question. Do not bother me with trivial games, I am busy." Sekhemkhet regarded her for a second more before turning back to his work.

Anabeth bristled. Of course, it was degrading to be spoken to in such a way, but more than that -- Sekhemkhet had reminded her so much of her father then that she was horrified. Her father had always told her what to do with that same expression -- that same moment of eye contact to ensure that she understood before turning back to his work.

"I wish to know why you believe you can tell me who I may or may not consort with." Beth watched him as he picked up small, rounded pegs and placed them on the map in front of him with precision. Sekhemkhet shook his head, ignoring her.

"I will not be told what to do," Anabeth stood. Her voice was steady and unwavering, and she hoped she sounded strong. "I do not belong to you, nor any man, and if you think that I will stay-"

"Enough!" Anabeth was cut off as Sekhemkhet roared at her. "If you cannot be in here without disturbing me with your irrelevant little notions then you will leave!"

The power in his voice shook the room. Anabeth's hands flew to her throat and stomach, as though to protect herself. Unshed tears burned her eyes as her throat grew thick. She had never been spoken down to in such a manner before -- not even by her father.

Beth left the room immediately, not hesitating to look back. It was just as well, for Sekhemkhet made no move to follow her.

As Anabeth fled from the building, ignoring those who tried to engage her in conversation, there was only one person whom she wanted to see. She pictured his face -- his easy smile and charming manner -- and all but ran to the carriage that was waiting for her as instructed.

Unfortunately as, unlike William, Anabeth did not have the luxury of an automobile to transport her, the trip took a while. She was also not acquainted with the geography of Cairo. This accumulated in what she had assumed would be a short trip to Sophia's being, in fact, a two-hour journey by carriage.

This she could have dealt with, if it had turned out that William had been residing with his aunt. Instead, she arrived at the beautiful villa to find that Sophia was not home, and William preferred to stay in town. A stoic man had given her a curious look before giving her the address of the rooms William was currently renting.

It had taken just as long to get to that address, only to have no one answer the door. There was total silence on the other side, as well, which Beth took to mean that William was out exploring.

On a whim -- a hopeful, but likely fruitless whim -- Anabeth had asked her driver to take her to Nyla's restaurant. She remembered that William said he ate there every day and she just hoped that she arrived at the right time. However, her driver was apologetic when he told her that the horses had to rest -- the afternoon was too hot and they were becoming tired.

So, Anabeth had foolishly sent him home, after getting directions to Nyla's. It wasn't far -- about twenty minutes walking, and the directions were simple enough to follow. Anabeth decided that she could go there and then return to William's rooms to wait if he wasn't there.

Anabeth did not believe in luck, but perhaps there was some other power at play because, of course, William wasn't at Nyla's. Nyla wasn't even there to ask, and the man that Beth spoke to had no idea what, or who, she was talking about. So, she returned to the rooms and stood in the shade, which was still very warm.

"Annie?" William's voice finally rose above the crowd of people who shuffled along the street.

Anabeth was ready to reply, when she looked up and found William beside a very concerned Mr Banks, just a few steps away. William was grinning ear to ear. Mr Banks did not share the same expression. It was then that she realised what a foolish mistake she had made by traipsing around Cairo alone. Mr Banks must have been furious.

"You really are an adventurer," William laughed, hopping up the steps to her side.

"Miss Brightbury," Mr Banks began as William unlocked the door. She had not heard him use such a stern tone with her before.

"Come on now, Tom," William stopped him, opening the door for Anabeth and Mr Banks. "Let's at least wait until we're inside."

"It's Thomas," Mr Banks grumbled as he followed Beth inside, past William, who closed the door behind him.

William's rooms were nice -- simple and unassuming, but nice. There were shutters over the windows in the big room which dominated the ground floor, but William led them upstairs to a shaded terrace off of a second sitting room. It was a strange layout, Beth noted, but it would have been a waste to keep the room as a bedroom and restrict access to the terrace. In the middle of the terrace was a wooden table and four chairs. Beth immediately went to one of those seats.

"I'll get us a drink," William said, once Beth and Mr Banks were on the terrace. Beth guessed that it was actually tactical, so he didn't have to listen to her lecture.

"I am aware," Beth began, sitting on a dusty chair, refusing to meet Mr Bank's eye but she was immediately interrupted.

"No, you

clearly

do not," he stormed. His voice was low and menacing. "You do not have the faintest idea how dangerous this city can be. Women need a chaperone here --

all

women, not just young, British women. To go galivanting about and not tell anyone where you were -- not even knowing where you were yourself?! If you had not come back here, we would not have even known where to go looking -- do you understand that? Do you not remember what happened at the docks when we first arrived?" Anabeth's mouth hung slightly agape as Mr Banks continued on his tirade. He was pacing the length of the terrace now. "It is nothing short of a

miracle

that I met your driver outside your villa..."

Mr Banks continued even as William came back and placed a tray of drinks on the table, wincing at his sharp tone.

"I think Annie gets it," William finally interjected for Anabeth, who was speechless. In truth, she

hadn't

thought. The worst she feared was getting lost, but even then, she assumed she would find her way back somehow. She hadn't thought about the other dangers.

Beth could kick herself -- she would never have gone walking alone in a part of London she didn't know, and she at least spoke the language there.

Mr Banks scowled fiercely at William. Beth knew what he was thinking. This was somehow William's fault. She did this because of him -- she wouldn't have gone running about if he hadn't encouraged her somehow. It was those 'somehows' that kept his mouth shut, however. He still didn't know how William slotted into the picture, so he refrained from jumping to conclusions. Anabeth wondered if Mr Banks had mentioned William in his letters to her father.

"I am so sorry," Anabeth turned from William to Mr Banks. "I truly did not think. I can only apologise and hope that you can forgive me." It was a weak apology, but Mr Banks did not seem like the type who enjoyed watching someone grovel. He was different from her father.

Mr Banks cleared his throat and nodded once, then twice, and looked away. "Please do not do it again," he said, quieter now. "I was worried." It was clear that Mr Banks was not used to losing his temper. His cheeks and the tops of his ears were tinged pink with embarrassment. It was quite endearing.

Beth felt a surge of emotion for Mr Banks. He had been kind to her and she liked the man. She reached out and grasped one of his hands in hers. "I promise I won't."

"Wonderful," William smiled at the two of them. He was the picture of ease, reclining in his chair, a glass of brown liquid dangling from his fingertips. "Now, the real question -- what the hell were you doing?"

Anabeth looked furtively -- or what she

thought

was furtively -- at Mr Banks. He, of course, noticed immediately. "Ah," he said, his suspicions confirmed. "Excuse me for a moment," he nodded to Beth and William, leaving the terrace and walking through the sitting room, until he was out of sight and, hopefully, earshot.

Beth clasped her hands in her lap. Now that she was here, she wasn't sure what she wanted to say. "You asked when you could see me again," she finally mustered the courage to say. "Is this sufficient as an answer?"

William threw his head back laughing. It was a charming, chortling sound, that made Anabeth laugh with him. When she had calmed somewhat, Anabeth reached for a drink from the tray. She lifted the glass to her nose and sniffed it. She wasn't sure what it was.

"It's cream soda," William told her, still trying to calm himself. "I take tins of it with me everywhere and get it imported from the States when I run out. Try it, it's sweet."

Anabeth took a sip and, to her surprise, found it pleasant. He was right -- it was sweet.

"You know," William began, "I can't remember the last time that a girl did such a big romantic gesture for me."

"What romantic gesture?" Anabeth queried, her brow dipping.

"Oh, you know, just running about the streets of Cairo in the afternoon sun, with no regard for her own safety. I'm really,

very

flattered," William winked at her.

The way he was looking at her -- there was a teasing glint to it, she knew, but at it's core, it was adoration, and there was no other way to put it. Anabeth could feel her stomach flip at the emotion that elicited from her. It made her nervous enough that she didn't laugh or smile at what he was saying.

"Yesterday." Anabeth began, putting her glass back down. "I am sorry for the way that we parted. I believe we should be up front with one another, and I would like to do so now."

"Hit me with it," William replied cockily, but Beth could see there was a little bit of wariness there. It was clear to her that what she was about to say would mean a lot to this man, so she had to pick her words carefully.

Anabeth sat up in her chair. "You will remember yesterday. When we spoke of the future, you mentioned the 'great injustice' in the world -- that you have so many choices in your life, and I have so few." William nodded and Anabeth took a deep breath. "I enjoy your company," she admitted. "I had a truly wonderful time yesterday -- I cannot remember ever having such fun."

Her ideas were coming out wrong, she wasn't sure what she was even admitting to anymore.

"I enjoy your company," she repeated herself, weakly. She wished she had written down everything that she wanted to say earlier before she had left the villa. She wished that she had two coherent thoughts to put together in this moment.

William grinned at her. "Ok," he drew out the word for a moment. "Do you mind if I try and help? You seem to be struggling somewhat."

Anabeth breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. "Yes, please."

William set down his glass and stood up from his chair at the other side of the table. He walked around and sat at the chair beside Anabeth, turning it until he was facing her. In a sudden movement, he grabbed the leg of her chair, pulled it out and spun her to face him as well, eliciting a yelp from her. "That's better," he muttered as they settled in, face to face.

"What's that?" Anabeth asked. Now that he was in front of her, she could see a new addition to his wrist.

There was a leather strap jutting out of his shirt sleeve. William pulled up the sleeve a little and shook his wrist to free it. It was a simple black leather band embroidered with a snake in white thread.

"Do you like it?" William chuckled as Beth's fingertips ran over the embroidery.

"It's lovely," she admitted, pulling her hand back. Something was stirring at the back of her mind.

William thanked her, a little bashfully. "You'll think me insane," he grinned at her. "But a local woman gave it to me at the market this morning. She said it would protect me from evil. I'm not superstitious but she was quite persuasive and I decided it couldn't hurt. Plus I'm a sucker for a knick-knack."

It was at the word 'protect' that Anabeth realised why the snake symbol was familiar.

Wadjet

. This was how she would protect her -- by protecting William. Some tight knot within Beth began to unwind. William would be safe -- no matter what happened between her and Sekhemkhet. Which meant that there was nothing holding her back now.

"Now," he began. "Let me ask: do you enjoy my company in the same way that you enjoy most people's company?"

"No," Anabeth replied, smiling slowly. Her head shook from side to side. "I prefer your company to other people's. Quite a bit."

William grinned. "Great. Now, what if I said --" Anabeth interrupted William, quite rudely, by leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.

He was shocked for a second -- perhaps two -- but he recovered quickly and began to kiss Beth back. His hand came up and gently cupped her jaw on one side, while the other went to her waist to hold her there.