Chapter 27-

Imhotep rubbed a hand across his smooth jaw and closed his eyes. He lay sprawled over his throne, alone in a darkened room. The past events that included Evelyn caused him excruciating pain inside, a wound that can never heal. Imhotep straightened himself in his extremely uncomfortable chair, and sat with his elbows on his knees and his head bent low in his hands while they were sliding around his shaved head that held many frustrated, irritated thoughts. He lifted his head and clenched his jaw in despair, his fists tightening around his chin. Impudent woman, he thought to himself. She was cheeky, sassy and insolent.

Imhotep glided off his throne and walked over to the nearest window. He ripped off the black curtains and shielded his eyes from the sudden outbreak of the remaining sun he had yet to cover up. He rested one elbow against the wall and placed a hand on the window, as if trying to touch the life outside. He tapped it lightly, the glass burning beneath his cold, dead fingertips. With his fingers he traced the remaining people outside who were running for their lives to a safer place. Imhotep chuckled, they could run, but they could never escape his bitter wrath. He swallowed and clenched his teeth. He leaned his forehead against the window and thought about Evelyn. She had chosen death over him! The very idea of that was outrageous. The whole scene flashed through his mind for the thousandth time. Evelyn could become his queen, and she would never have to see that mistake of a family again, or she could be burned at the stake, so her heart would burn as much as his heart burned every time he saw her face. Imhotep tightened the hand on the window into a fist, and let out a shuddering breath. He lightly pounded it against the window, and then spread out his fingers like an eagle.

He remembered how his heart and soul practically drowned in unknown sorrow when Evelyn chose death. Imhotep saw and heard out of the corner of his eye her “husband’s” anguished cry, and the look of pure terror on his face. Stupid man that ‘Rick was’, he dared to steal the heart of the reincarnated version of the woman he loved, Imhotep would make sure Rick wouldn’t be an issue any longer. He remembered how nonchalantly he acted when he sent his guards to take her away, it was the hardest act he could ever faked. He had never loved Anuksunamun, the woman who longed for him just for lust, Nefertiti was his only true love. Evelyn would be burned tonight, out in the courtyard for all to see. Imhotep, with his forehead still leaned against the window, opened his eyes in shock and slowly put a finger up to his cheek. A single tear had run down his face, he hadn’t cried since he was a boy! He wiped his face clearly and clenched his teeth in anger at being so feeble. Suddenly an image of the boy with the wheat-coloured hair popped in his brain.

“NENKA!”, Imhotep cried out.

The mousy woman cautiously stepped into the room.

“Yes, your highness?”, she replied meekly.

Imhotep walked briskly back to his throne and sat sprawled back into his chair.

“Bring me that boy who was with Evelyn, her son, the one she called ‘Alex’.”

Nenka gulped.

“Right away sir.”

She disappeared behind the black curtains for a couple minutes, and when she finally stepped out, her hand rested on a skinny little boy, who was hiding behind her. Imhotep smiled in amusement.

“Leave us now Nenka.”

The woman left one sad glance towards the boy, before leaving the room. Imhotep smiled in cruel delight at the frightened boy. He lifted an arm and motioned with his index finger to beckon him closer. The child shook his head feverishly ‘no’. Unfortunately, with a snap of his cold fingers and the help of Imhotep‘s powers, the boy’s feet were lifted from the ground, and he flew to the evil man. He chuckled and placed a hand on top of the child’s head, while marvelling at how his hair was the colour of the sun in the afternoon. Imhotep then magically took out a common, Arabic game that the boy recognized immediately. He gazed in wonder and gave a half smile, while Imhotep stared into his eyes, amazed at how much they resembled Evelyn’s. An idea popped into his head, he may never of gotten Evelyn to trust him, but maybe he could get ‘Alex’ to trust him. An apprentice, not a bad idea in Imhotep’s opinion.