Chapter 49

Carol’s hands, originally clasping a fresh lotus flower, trembled slightly upon hearing those words. Lagresh stood at a distance, unable to tell whether she was trembling from fear at Isis’s venomous words or from excitement upon learning of the existence of her compatriots.

But Lagresh disliked riddles. He had no interest in this foreigner; he sought direct truth, an informant whose lips he could pry open. Now, within the Egyptian royal palace, moving against anyone present could cost him his life in full torment. The key question was how to get these two women onto his own turf.

If he inquired about the future visitor, his identity would surely be exposed.

Only by holding these two women tightly in his grasp—by force or interrogation—could he extract what he wanted. Once they had answered, they could die, and his secret would remain safe.

Given time, a schemer always finds a way.

Isis seemed utterly exhausted and said no more, only letting out a soft snort and a cold sneer: “Carol, leave your two maids to me. Ali can ensure today’s conversation will not be leaked. Just remember my words today, and don’t blame me for being unkind to you in the days to come.”

With that, Isis drifted away. Within the temple grounds, Carol had no right to speak; pleading was useless. By tomorrow, perhaps the Nile would carry two fresh corpses.

The next day, Ali returned to the palace through the north gate and happened upon the Babylonian king—known only by name until now—in a secluded garden. He was older than the queen or King Memphis, with rugged features and a dignified appearance, though not comparable to the Egyptian royal siblings. Yet the calmness brought by age made Ali not dislike him; in fact, she hoped Lagresh might break the current deadlock within the Egyptian royal court.

After she finished her greeting and lifted her head, she found that King Lagresh had dismissed his attendants. She waited quietly for his instructions.

“You are one of Queen Isis’s maids, aren’t you?” Lagresh motioned for her to rise, wearing a look of regret and pity. “I have come from afar, not for any alliance, but truly because I am deeply enamored with your queen. Seeing her like this, day and night in the temple, fills me with sorrow. If someone makes her so troubled, how can her admirer stand idly by?”

Ali, bound by Isis’s orders and despite her own restless heart, could not oppose Carol. She was near breaking point but would not suddenly trust a man who appeared out of nowhere.

Lagresh wore an expression of regret and, before leaving, pointed toward the lotus pond’s wooden pier not far away: “It is said the daughters of the Nile love to pick lotus flowers there at dusk. If the sluice gates were opened, perhaps there would be more interesting things in the pool.”

Ali listened respectfully, expressionless, but those words lodged deep in her heart. After she walked away, Lagresh called over someone: “If Queen Isis’s people make a move tomorrow, have the palace spies lure King Memphis and the guards away.”

While Lagresh was scheming in Egypt on how to unseat Queen Isis and recruit her to Babylon to serve him, Inanna, led by Mura, went to the residence of the empire’s highest-ranking woman—the queen’s palace—to pay respects to the most powerful figure in the harem, thus beginning her career as the first and currently only concubine of the prince.

Yet, at this moment, no one knew that this career path would not even survive its probationary period.

Mura had complex feelings toward Inanna. Having raised Izmi herself, there was an unnatural bond beyond mother and child. She viewed Inanna with the critical eye of a mother-in-law. Not only did Inanna bear a foreign face, but her status was shockingly low. Both served in the Lion Hall and often crossed paths, unlike the queen who rarely even saw Inanna, which only deepened Mura’s resentment.

As chief lady-in-waiting, Mura managed all affairs of the Lion Hall but had no authority over Inanna. Though Inanna was only a junior trainee, her direct superior was Prince Izmi, and her duties revolved around the prince’s bedchamber. Thus, Mura’s only recourse was to assert her authority indirectly—such as ordering a lowly water-carrying slave girl, who had no business in Tawaana’s residence, to receive ten lashes and be expelled.

After this simple yet effective show of power, Mura could warn Inanna: “Without the queen’s order, no one may enter here. All who serve Tawaana are daughters of the Bytedo nobility. Likewise, without the prince’s command, you must not leave the Lion Hall or wander beyond your quarters. Otherwise, with the prince’s temper, it would be more than ten lashes.”

On her first day, Inanna behaved obediently and sensibly. Given her current status, wandering about would only invite mistreatment. The palace was filled with people of higher rank, and just bowing would strain one’s neck. She would be foolish to roam aimlessly.

The audience with the queen went smoothly. The queen and her three ladies barely glanced at her and made no effort to trouble her.

Inanna merely sat on the farthest stool from the queen, and whenever the queen’s rare gaze landed on her, she lowered her eyes obediently, agreeing to all she said, occasionally adding a compliment to keep things pleasant.

But this was only surface appearance. At night, when Inanna was alone in her room, a mountain of jewels piled at her feet. Thinking of the queen and others’ intentions behind these gifts, a vein throbbed at her temple.

A low-ranking attendant entered to relay Prince Izmi’s summons. After a moment’s thought, Inanna wrapped the jewels in a small square rug and carried them boldly to meet her superior.

She and Izmi seemed to have an unspoken understanding: the bed was excluded from their nightly interactions. Izmi had prepared a low couch on the rug with many bird-feather pillows for comfort, all facing a bright pine resin lamp to facilitate reading his documents.

This pine resin lamp was much better than the faintly fragrant incense from the first night. Inanna guessed that in such a purely formal space, she would not need to undress or offer kisses.

She sat cross-legged before Izmi and spread the contents of her bundle on the floor. Izmi glanced casually, noting that the pearl necklace was not large but full and round, the golden bracelet studded with colorful gems, and some less precious trinkets fit for play. He then set aside his scroll with a smile: “Looks like you’ve done well today. Becoming my concubine has its advantages.”

Inanna dared not accept such advantages: “Today I met the queen and her three noble ladies. Each secretly gave me many gifts. As for why…” she glanced at the unruffled Prince Izmi, “they inquired about your preferences.”

Preferences? Naturally, regarding women. Inanna felt as if Izmi had cracked open the door of the Lion Hall’s gate, inviting others to flood in.

“I will marry a princess sooner or later, and there will be more concubines,” Izmi finally set aside his scroll. “That has nothing to do with my preferences. Just humor them. Keep the gifts.”

Inanna looked again at the jewels. Having been poor all her life, a chest of gold and silver felt unreal—like the glass marbles she played with as a child.

Seeing her hesitate, Izmi asked with interest: “If you don’t want them, we can continue last night’s conversation. For example, what do you want from me in exchange for your help?”

His words were enticing, for Inanna did have desires. But to openly ask for Bytedo’s sacred relics might make the prince frown or have her dragged away for a hundred lashes.

She had to be cautious: “Prince, I have already said my wish is only to return home. If you could sympathize with this small wish and take me to the highest temple of Bytedo to pray for my return, I would be deeply grateful.”

“Your status is too low,” Prince Izmi’s blunt truth extinguished the small flame of hope in her heart. “The Alina Temple is exclusive to the Bytedo royal family. All kings have regarded the goddess as their earthly representative. Ceremonies are only held when the king ascends the throne, marries Tawaana, or appoints the crown prince. None will be held in the next decade.”

Inanna knew this well. The Bytedo king was in his prime; while the queen’s relationship with him was strained, her position was secure. And Prince Izmi was already Tuhukanti. The domestic situation would only change if the Bytedo king died suddenly.

Seeing the unspoken disappointment in Inanna’s eyes, Izmi softened his tone: “If you can’t go back, staying by my side won’t be a hardship. Sukammu, be obedient and stay well.”

He sat opposite her again and picked a pair of red jade earrings from the jewels. Noticing Inanna had no ear piercings, he reached out and gently massaged her tender, pale earlobe until it turned almost blood-red. The owner’s cheeks blushed faintly.

“Sukammu,” Izmi whispered near her ear, playing with the cold jade earrings against her heated cheek, “if you stay, with the advantage you hold in the Lion Hall, life won’t be hard. If you’re uneasy, I can give you a child.”

As he spoke, he pushed the golden hooks of the earrings through her earlobe, which had gone numb from his touch. It did not hurt, only a single drop of bright red blood seeped out. Izmi licked the drop away, clasped her waist, and kissed her again.

His tongue was slightly rough. Inanna felt every movement was brisk and purposeful, and all she could do was cooperate—a clear and cruel realization weighing heavily on her heart.

He nearly explored her entirely with his kiss. The act was somewhat disgusting, yet it sent a jolt through her. Izmi never intended to let her go; his vow of fidelity meant that one day she must surrender her purity to him. For men of this era, a woman’s body symbolized her soul’s submission—an assurance the prince must have for peace of mind.

Izmi used masculine means to slowly seduce Inanna. The unequal status, the supposed inquiries into her willingness, and the temporary promise not to touch her were mere pretense.

If he wanted to kiss her, she would not respond but could not resist; if he pressed upon her, would she have to part her legs?

Inanna closed her fiery eyes in anger: Izmi, you’re dreaming!

Author’s note: This is page two. If I were to write all of One Thousand and One Nights, would you lash me to death?

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The Legend of Yi: Daughter of the Nile, Chapter 49, fully updated!