Prologue
The torches surrounding the ancient chamber lit up one by one, illuminating the golden throne encrusted with jewels. The tall figure of a redheaded woman remained motionless in a graceful pose, her hands resting on large, masterfully shaped rubies that decorated the tops of the armrests.
Slowly, reluctantly, her dark-red lashes fluttered, revealing crimson eyes with vertical slits for pupils. A delicate smile curled the woman’s full lips, even as the expression in her eyes remained distant.
They were locked on the future. The paths to take and the outcomes—each now tinted with a chaotic flavor—were possibilities, not certainties.
“It’s time,” her musical voice—honeyed silk—reverberated through the silent chamber, announcing the beginning of a scheme that had been eons in the making.
Her two-thousand-year-long wait over, Bastet smiled, closed her eyes, and set herself to watch.
