8 younger brothers + 1

“Lord Ayi, where are we going?” The attendant watched his master enter, then shortly after, come out again, completely baffled.

Ayi smiled, “We’re leaving the palace for a walk, to clear our minds.”

The attendant hesitated, uncertainly asking, “Leaving the palace? Now?”

Isn’t it time for you to tutor the Pharaoh? Is it really alright to be outside the palace at this hour?

“I haven’t been out for a long time; lead the way for me,” Ayi said with a smile, but his tone was resolute.

The attendant glanced nervously at the Temple of the Gods behind them, then bowed slightly, “Please follow me, my lord.”

The sedan chair sent by the temple was stationed at a side hall, where the bearers rested, but Ayi did not arrange for them to carry him. Instead, he followed the attendant on foot out of the palace.

Perhaps due to Egypt’s theocratic rule, commoners regarded the Pharaoh as a deity, and the palace was held in great reverence, so palace security was not overly strict.

Walking beside the attendant, Ayi watched as he presented a badge. The guards barely glanced at it before returning it.

“Amante, come drink with us later,” a guard said, nodding and smiling.

They clearly knew each other and seemed to have a good rapport.

Amante, the attendant, wrinkled his nose at the invitation, wanting to decline but refraining because Ayi was nearby. Instead, he whispered, “I don’t drink. Don’t say such things.”

Ayi rarely moved about the palace, so the guards mistook him for a new colleague of Amante’s but couldn’t help sneaking a glance at his strikingly handsome face.

“Hey, why so modest all of a sudden?” The guard withdrew his gaze but reached out boldly to clap Amante on the shoulder. Amante skillfully dodged.

“Enough chatting,” Amante muttered under his breath, “I have work to do.”

The guard laughed heartily but understood that business was important and let them pass.

Once beyond the guard post, the two walked on together.

“Where does Lord Ayi intend to go?” the attendant asked nervously.

“Do I look frightening?” Ayi chuckled softly.

“N-no, of course not!” Amante’s face paled from fright. He shook his head and waved his hands, “Lord Ayi is the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”

There were many nobles in the palace, but none as handsome as Lord Ayi.

Amante couldn’t quite articulate what made him so attractive—he was unlettered—but he simply felt Ayi outshone everyone else. Sometimes when he sneaked a glance and was caught, his heart would race wildly.

With such handsomeness, it was no wonder Queen Meret valued him so highly.

Ayi asked, “Then why do you speak to me so timidly?”

Amante glanced at him furtively, then quickly looked away. Normally, he wouldn’t dare, but considering Ayi’s coldness towards him and what Thanaro had said, he bit his lip and mustered courage, “My lord, could you please not transfer me?”

Ayi raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think I would transfer you?”

Once the question was asked, Amante found it easier to speak. He pressed on, “I know you think I’m foolish, but I can learn. I learn quickly. Please don’t transfer me. If you do, I’ll have nothing left.”

Ayi was tall and slender, just two years older than the small attendant before him, but nearly a head taller.

Amante wasn’t sure if it was the height difference or Ayi’s imposing aura, but every time he spoke with Ayi, he felt nervous and fearful.

“Are you answering the question I asked?” Ayi countered.

Amante grimaced and whispered, “Since you arrived in Menou, you haven’t asked my name. Thanaro said it’s because you’re dissatisfied with me and want to have me transferred.”

Ayi’s eyes narrowed slightly. Meret still wanted to bring someone else in. He lowered his voice, “Actually, I don’t want you transferred either.”

Amante’s face went pale. He wasn’t stupid; those words implied that although Ayi didn’t want to, the transfer might still happen.

Ayi’s gaze swept over him. Seeing Amante’s increasingly pale complexion, and unsure what scenario his mind had conjured, he finally spoke slowly: “But you should know, in this palace, Queen Meret calls the shots.”

Amante’s voice dropped to a whisper, “But aren’t you one of Queen Meret’s people?”

Hearing that Menou would house one of Meret’s own, Amante had felt lucky. To brush shoulders even slightly with the queen’s circle was no easy feat. Yet now…

Ayi said with some hesitation, “I am indeed one of her people, but Thanaro is also planted by her. They want to replace you and bring someone else in.”

Amante nearly burst into tears. If Meret drove him out, where would he find refuge in this palace? Others would only assume he was expelled for a fault he did not commit.

The royal court was filled with sycophants eager to curry favor with the queen; some would surely seize the opportunity to strike him down. Even the previously jovial guard would claim helplessness then.

“I heard you put a lot of effort into entering Menou?” Ayi asked.

Because of insomnia, Ayi had overheard conversations between Thanaro and Bart, who were both aligned with the queen. The story’s owner was no doubt the small attendant before him.

Sure enough, Amante nodded with reddened eyes, feeling wronged, “I spent everything I had. Now I have nothing left.”

Ayi looked at him sympathetically but with a quick gleam of amusement in his eyes. After a pause, he said, “Actually, I have a way to prevent your transfer, but it will require your cooperation.”

Amante was stunned, then eagerly asked, “What? I’ll cooperate with anything, just don’t transfer me!”

Ayi said, “If you become one of us, the queen won’t assign me a new attendant.”

He admitted he had employed a little wordplay.

In truth, those assigned by the queen only pretended to cooperate with him; their real purpose was to monitor him. Like Thanaro—those in power dread betrayal.

Even someone like Meret, standing at the pinnacle of power.

So Ayi had never thought of winning over Thanaro; he refused to let a petty schemer ruin his plans at the outset.

Amante was stunned for a long moment before asking incredulously, “You mean I could become your personal attendant?”

“Yes,” Ayi nodded slightly, “But it won’t be easy. You’ll need to prove your loyalty and capability to the queen.”

Amante hadn’t expected such a twist. This was Queen Meret. In his two years at court, he hadn’t even spoken a word with those in Bastet’s quarters.

Those people seemed to have stars in their eyes—no kidding.

“R-really?” Amante doubted his own dreams, even wanting to slap himself to see if it hurt.

“Of course.” Ayi smiled gently. “You’re lucky. It took me two years to earn the queen’s favor.”

Amante was so excited he stammered, “Th-then, how do I show my loyalty and ability?”

“Don’t rush,” Ayi said. “It will be a long process. You know, it’s always hard to earn the trust of the powerful.”

Amante understood well. He had witnessed a Bastet maid executed by flogging for a single misstep.

“Please guide me, my lord,” Amante said, both eager and anxious. “I have boundless energy now, ready to prove myself.”

Ayi chuckled softly; just the effect he wanted.

“First,” he said, “you mustn’t tell Thanaro about what I’ve told you today.”

Amante was puzzled, “Why not? Isn’t Thanaro also one of the queen’s people?”

Ayi sighed, “I’m telling only you because I believe you’re clever and quick-witted. Don’t betray my kindness.”

“That goes without saying.” Amante was ready to knock his head on the ground to prove his reliability.

Ayi glanced around and lowered his voice, “The queen suspects Thanaro might side with the temple. If you get close to him, you’ll appear complicit.”

Everyone with some standing in the palace knew the unending hostility between the temple and the queen.

Amante instinctively wanted to deny it.

The queen’s power was immense now; who in their right mind would side with the temple?

But suddenly, images flashed through his mind: Thanaro and Bart chatting and laughing, always seen together these days. He had even seen Bart secretly slip a piece of bread to Thanaro before leaving.

Bread was no rare delicacy, but it showed their close bond.

“I see now!” Amante exclaimed.

No wonder Bart and Thanaro were so close, while they had barely spoken to him after the first day.

If Thanaro truly had sided with the enemy, everything made sense.

“I understand,” Amante said firmly, clenching his fist. “My loyalty will always be to Bastet, but I still can’t understand why Thanaro would side with the temple…”

He just couldn’t grasp it fully.

Ayi’s expression was unreadable. “Thanaro will always be a minor attendant on the queen’s side, but if he helps the temple overthrow her, that’s a meteoric rise—arrogant and reckless.”

Amante sighed deeply. “Indeed, power blinds his eyes. For those of us lowly ones, just surviving and sending some savings home is already a blessing.”

Though he had only been in the palace two years, he liked to chat and had good relations with the maids and attendants, so he understood well just how immense Queen Meret’s influence was here.

“What shall we do next?” Amante asked. “Should I watch him?”

“No, don’t alert him. The queen has already made arrangements,” Ayi smiled slightly. “You need to do something else.”

“What?” Amante rubbed his hands eagerly.

Ayi glanced back at the imposing palace behind them, a faint smile on his lips. “Use your talents. During the small court meeting when I tutor the Pharaoh, I’ll give you time off. You’ll go and chat with the servants of the court ministers.”

The high priests had to attend the small court meeting, so the temple scheduled Ayi’s tutoring on that day—he was the only seer free then.

Ayi had calculated that this meeting fell on the same day each week, corresponding to the day of the Sun God Horus—what modern people know as Monday.

“Chat?” Amante was a little confused. “About what?”

Ayi looked at him with a casual smile. “Anything. Just remember what’s said and report back to me.”

Modern warfare’s three pillars of victory: organization, energy, and information.

Control the flow of information, and you can guide the flow of material and spiritual energy, maximizing their effectiveness.

This was Ayi’s opening move, a triple advance.

“Do it well. Don’t disappoint the queen’s trust,” he said.

Though Amante did not grasp the principle, his heart swelled with a sacred sense of mission. Placing his left hand over his heart, he solemnly swore, “I guarantee to complete the task.”