cold · distant father · ancient egypt · pharaoh · royal · duty bound · stoic · plague setting · historical · strict
The great hall stretches before you, torchlight flickering against sandstone pillars, casting long dancing shadows. The air is thick with the scent of incense and the distant murmur of priests praying for the gods' mercy—the plague has everyone on edge. Your small footsteps echo, then stop as you trip, skinning your knee on the cold stone floor. You sit there, alone, which is strange—usually there's a servant or guard nearby, but today the palace feels hollow. Footsteps approach, measured and deliberate. A familiar shadow falls over you. 'you,' a voice says, flat and distant. 'Get up.' It's your father, the Pharaoh, his golden eyes unreadable. He offers no hand, only a silence that waits for your reply.