Sleep would not come.
Naiya sat upright on her bed, legs drawn to her chest, listening to the quiet murmur of the palace at night. The gentle hum of cicadas, the distant splash of a fountain, and the rhythmic breathing of the sleeping attendants outside her chambers all folded into a hushed lullaby—but none of it calmed the storm inside her.
She hadn't been able to shake the feeling since that night by the Nile. The sensation that something had shifted—within her, around her, and perhaps even beyond her comprehension. And now, in these silent hours, that feeling only grew stronger. The stars above seemed brighter, the air heavier with something unspoken.
He's here.
She didn't know why she was so sure. She had no proof, no name, not even a reason to believe it. But every breath she took seemed to pull her toward a presence, a memory—that brief, wondrous moment by the river when their eyes met and the world had fallen away.
She had tried to forget.
Tried to convince herself that it was just a dream, a phantom moment in a city full of stories. But dreams didn't leave behind lingering aches. Dreams didn't reappear in every flicker of torchlight, every rustle of the wind, every heartbeat that thudded louder when the palace guards announced an arrival.
Rising from bed, Naiya paced barefoot across the marble floor. Her chambers, draped in soft linens and perfumed with lotus oil, felt stifling tonight. She pulled her shawl over her shoulders and stepped onto the narrow balcony that overlooked the western garden.
The moon hung low and full above the horizon, casting silver light across the courtyards and temple spires. Below, the garden was deserted save for a sleeping cat curled beside a statue of Hathor. Everything was silent. Peaceful.
Yet inside her, a thousand thoughts collided like waves.
She leaned on the stone railing and let her gaze sweep over the horizon, searching—for what, she didn't know. A shadow? A movement? A sign?
Instead, she found a memory.
His hand brushing hers at the Nile.
The way he looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time and yet somehow already knowing her.
The warmth in his voice, so rich and quiet, unlike any man she had known in this time or the one she left behind.
And the way her soul had responded. Not with fear, or confusion, but recognition.
It made no sense. She didn't even know his name. She didn't know where he came from or what his station was. Only that he carried the weight of the world in his posture, and the wild grace of a lion in his gaze.
Still, her mind replayed every second of their meeting. Every word. Every breath.
She'd tried to confide in Ramose once about the feeling—the dreamlike pull she experienced by the Nile. But he had only nodded in quiet understanding, his own thoughts veiled behind kind eyes.
Ramose… He had become her closest friend in this strange new life. His role in the royal court was growing, and she had begun to hear whispers in the palace halls—of meetings between generals, of plans being drawn, of shifting alliances. Ramose, she realized, was not simply a soldier with a noble name. He was part of something bigger. And yet, around her, he remained grounded, steady.
Sometimes, she caught a flicker of something more in his gaze—something gentle, something watching. But Naiya was too tangled in her own turmoil to untangle his.
Tonight, she could not even find the peace to sit beside him in the library or walk the gardens with him as they used to.
She needed the sky.
She needed to breathe.
Grabbing her outer cloak, Naiya slipped from her chamber and moved through the quiet halls, careful not to wake the guards or servants. She'd learned the palace well enough by now to know where the shadows lingered, where the steps wouldn't creak.
Within minutes, she was slipping out of the eastern gate and down the narrow path that led to the Nile.
The water shimmered in the moonlight, its current whispering over smooth stones and reeds. Here, the world was quiet—only the river and the sky above, infinite and watching.
Naiya stepped to the water's edge, removed her sandals, and let her feet sink into the cool mud. The rush of memory hit her instantly.
This was where they'd met. This was where time had paused, and something inside her had come alive.
She folded her arms around herself and stared out across the water.
"I don't know who you are," she whispered aloud. "But I feel you. Even now."
The wind stirred, brushing against her cheek like a caress.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to imagine—if he had returned to the city, if he still remembered her, what would she say? Would she recognize him in the day? Or would he become another figure cloaked in royal formality, his gaze distant beneath a golden crown?
The idea startled her.
She hadn't considered he might be someone powerful. Someone untouchable. It didn't matter to her—title, wealth, none of it had ever moved her.
But his presence had.
That was all she remembered. All she longed for.
Naiya sank to her knees by the riverbank and lifted her face to the moon.
"I don't belong to this world," she murmured. "And yet… something here is calling me."
A gentle ripple moved across the water.
Somewhere behind her, a breeze shifted through the trees.
For a single moment, she thought she heard footsteps behind her—slow, steady, familiar.
She turned, heart in her throat.
But no one was there.
Only moonlight. Only silence.
And the stars watching like ancient sentinels.
Naiya let out a long breath, the ache in her chest blooming anew. She didn't know what was coming. Only that this was not the end.
Somewhere, out there, beneath the same sky, he was walking through the night.
And when their paths crossed again, she knew—deep in her soul—it would change everything.