If You Feel Better

Chapter 1

She walked past fruits, fish, jewelry, and pottery of all kinds. The market was swarming today with customers, hustling and bustling to get their produce. The stall keepers yelled out the products they were selling, trying to drown out one another, to get an interested party to notice and make quick coin.

Aya pulled the hood of her tan, linen cloak lower over her eyes. She knew she was breaking the rules and didn't want to be noticed by anyone of palace authority. She enjoyed watching people go about their busy lives. She felt like hers was wasting away: nothing to do, no one to talk to. She smiled up at the sun. Normally blistering, it was mild today and a small breeze was even blowing about.

"Miss! Would you like a new dress?" a shop maid called out, holding up an article of clothing.

Aya always dreamed about wearing plain clothes. She liked to imagine herself in them and all the adventures she could have without worrying if they got ripped or dirty. She smiled and walked up to the shop keeper to look at the clothes she was selling. They all looked remarkably the same: beige, linen, and simple.

Aya picked up a short dress and admired it, gaining a compliment from the shop lady. "I see you have fine taste," the woman said. "A beautiful girl like you would be remiss not to purchase a new dress for yourself every once in a while."

Just then, horns sounded in the distance. Aya shot her gaze towards the palace, the source of the noise. "I'm so sorry, but I need to go," she told the shop woman before dropping the dress and running off hurriedly. She sprinted as fast as her legs could carry her towards the palace, flying by the confused onlookers as she dashed across the dirt. She held her hood up with her hand to prevent it from falling down as she ran, keeping her identity hidden.

Soon, she came upon the palace: a monstrous limestone structure that was several times as tall as she was and longer than the eye could reach. To most, it was a grand place for royalty, the rich, and the powerful, but to Aya, it was nothing more than a prison.

Guards surrounded the entrance and as Aya grew closer, they drew up their spears towards her. "Halt!" the closest one shouted. "Who goes there?!"

Aya carefully pulled her hood down, revealing her brown, wavy hair, pale skin, and striking blue eyes to the guards in front of her.

All of the guards gasped and kneeled before her in respect. "Princess Aya," the main guard said, lowering his spear as he kneeled. "It's wonderful to know that you are safe. Didn't you hear the horn? The pharaoh was about to begin a search party for you." He turned to one of the guards behind him and ordered "Go tell the pharaoh that the princess has been found at once!"

"Yes, sir!" the other guard responded, running inside the palace to bring the news.

"Actually, sir, if you don't mind," Aya said to the guard sheepishly, putting her hands together to awkwardly beg. "Do you think there's a way we can not tell my father about this? He's going to overly worry if he finds out I've been out." She laughed half-heartedly, hoping the guard would be sympathetic to her plea.

"I'm sorry, Princess," he said. "But the pharaoh is about to send an entire army to search for you. We can't just not tell him you're safe."

Aya's face fell to one of disappointment. She quietly stepped past the kneeling guards, inside the palace walls. It was big and open, no one to be found at the moment, presumably because they were all in the throne room getting briefed on their roles for the search party.

She passed all of the pillars and arches, seemingly endless, until she come upon the throne room herself. The doors were wide open, the guard was kneeling in front of the pharaoh, having just delivered the news that the princess was safe. She took a deep breath and stepped in, her footsteps echoing even louder than usual while everyone was completely frozen around her.

She received a scathing look from her father, the pharaoh: a short, tan man with tall black, violet, and blond hair and purple eyes. He wore a relic around his neck in the shape of an upside-down pyramid with an eye in the center. Standing next to him was a pale woman with straight, orange hair and hazel eyes. Her face was much kinder, looking at her daughter with a soft smile.

"Where have you been?" the pharaoh asked, his deep voice resonating against throne room's infinite walls.

Aya stayed quiet, looking nervously at the ground in front of her. "In the market," she barely made out.

"What?!" her father boomed. She flinched at his voice, the deepness of it making him seem terrifying when he was angry. "Everyone is dismissed."

All of the servants and priests bowed to their mighty king and exited the throne room, only the pharaoh, queen, and princess staying behind. Aya heard the large stone door reverberating as it was closed shut, dreading the lecture she knew was about to come.

"Aya, how many times do you think you can do this?" he asked with disappointment and anger in his voice. "You could've been hurt! You could've been killed! Someone could've recognized you!"

"No one knows who I am," she attempted to assure him.

"You don't know that! Every time you go out, you risk someone knowing who you are or recognizing you from a different time you went out. Your luck is going to end one of these days!"

"Father!" she retaliated. "I can't stay cooped up here anymore! It's killing me! There is nothing dangerous where I go! I never go far! I don't understand why I'm never allowed to leave!"

"I've already told you!" the king raised his voice further. "Just because you think it's not dangerous doesn't mean it's safe! The outside world is a dangerous place to be whether you want to believe it or not!"

The queen finally intervened, placing a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Atem," she said in a soft, almost angelic voice. "Don't be too hard on her. It must be difficult to never leave the palace walls. It's only natural to want to see the world."

The pharaoh sighed, his anger dying down at his wife's words. "Aya, I know it may be tempting, but you must stay in the palace," he stated. "What have I always told you?"

Aya rolled her eyes and repeated what she'd heard a thousand times. "'I am the future inheritor of the throne and, therefore, the future of Egypt. I must be protected at all costs.'"

Her father shook his head sadly. "I don't know why you treat that with such little importance. With all of this sneaking out and putting yourself in harm's way, it's like you don't care about being the future ruler of Egypt."

"Of course I care, Father!" she disagreed, reaching out for his arm. "I just want my freedom too. I deserve that, don't I?"

"Of course you do," he said, taking both of his daughter's hands in his. "But unfortunately, that's not how the world is. And you must accept that fact." His eyes stared deep into hers. "Aya, I don't want to hear about you sneaking out again. This is my last warning to you."

He dropped her hands and turned forlornly away from her to deal with other duties assigned to him as pharaoh.

Her mother picked up her hands where he had left them. "Aya, your father's right," she said. "Please listen to what he says. He's doing this for your own good. He loves you."

Aya looked back down at the ground and nodded. "I know," she said.