I am Heba

A Servant's Heart

Akhenadin kind of goes craaaaazy. Just a little.

Note:

//Atemu to Yuugi//

\\Yuugi to Atemu\\

-word- : extra emphasis

'...' - thoughts

Disclaimer: Own Yu-Gi-Oh!, I do not.

Enjoy~

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Chapter Fourteen: A Servant's Heart

Ancient Egypt, Three Thousand Years Ago

Heba grumbled angrily under her breath, a full pout tilting the corners of her mouth. She scrubbed the tile with a fury fueled by her mounting frustration at having been forced to return to the palace. The brush was quickly wearing out with the strain of being used as an outlet and Heba didn't doubt she'd have to grab another one from the kitchens before her task was over.

That was alright though. She could just lug the broken pieces at her Pharaoh when he returned from being a hero.

'Hero,' Heba scoffed with a roll of her large eyes, 'Butt, more like! After everything that's happened he wants us to be separated just so he can go play hero in Kul Elna? Prick. I could hold my own if I needed to!' Heba sat back on her haunches and threw a punch at nothing in particular. The action felt awkward and weak, and Heba sighed as she looked over her arm. She doubted she was even holding her fist correctly.

"Who am I kidding," Heba muttered, returning to washing the tiles. "I'd just be in the way."

It had only been a few hours since she and Jono had returned to the palace, a single guard in tow (bearing the news the Pharaoh was alive), while Mana, Atemu, and the rest of the party had gone off to "visit" Bakura in Kul Elna. It was painfully obvious what Atemu was planning; by sending Heba home he was going to do everything in his power to put an end to Bakura once and for all while making sure she was safe. All of the High Priests had departed the castle when Heba and Jono arrived to assist their King, leaving only a trusted official in charge.

Being safe sucked sometimes. Heba wanted to make sure Atemu was safe, that Bakura wouldn't pull off one of his underhanded tricks and get Atemu backed into a corner. But that meant she would be in the way and, by extension, possibly get Atemu hurt just by trying to defend her. As much as she wanted to follow them, it would do no good. Heba was a slave, not a fighter, and all she'd be good for was getting someone killed.

There'd been enough death around here already. She wasn't about to add to the list.

Heba dumped the brush in the bucket of water beside her and sat back, looking with a cursory eye around the hallway. The corridor was small in width but long in length, leading from the Great Hall all the way to the inner courtyard where the stables were. Other hallways branched off every now and then, leading to servant's quarters and other rooms. Hieroglyphics and large paintings telling long-ago stories were painted on the walls, which

were lit with rows of torches.

Heba looked down at the bucket and sighed. She was only halfway done, and she'd been at this for an hour. Heba had forgotten what it was like to get down and dirty like this, being used to running after Atemu as his personal slave more than half the time. She didn't particularly mind, it was busy work and anything to get her frustration worked out of her system was fine by her.

Heba pulled a leather thong from her pocket and quickly braided her thick hair before getting back to work. She bit her lower lip, worry mounting in her as she worked. Atemu better be safe and not do anything stupid...