A few days after Zainah's failed Ceremony.
Sett let out a heavy sigh as he stepped out of his mother's room. She'd been in a foul mood, and her discipline had hit harder than usual. This ti, he wasn't even allowed to see his girls for the next few days. Typical.
He trudged down the hall, still shaking off the sting of her words, when soone caught his eye. He stopped mid-step.
She stood on the palace balcony, where towering date palms swayed, their long fronds dappling the smooth listone floor with shifting patterns of gold and green.
The sun blazed beyond the courtyard, turning the desert into a shimring sea of heat, but here, beneath the shade, the air was cool, laced with the sweet perfu of crushed figs and blooming lotus.
"Grandma!"
Sett's face lit up, and he bolted toward her.
She turned slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips as she sipped from a goblet of red wine. Sett slowed as he got closer, his eyes wandering despite himself.
She was old, sure, but ti hadn't dulled her presence.
Whatever magic or sheer stubbornness she wielded had kept her looking sharp—mature, but striking. Her gown, white as desert lilies, hugged her figure, the gold-threaded hems catching the light with every subtle move.
His gaze lingered a little too long on her curves before drifting up to her collarbones, where dark gems glead like they'd been plucked straight from the Nile's depths.
Sett's gaze then finally reached her face.
This is what pretty is.
Zainah was adorable, his mother was beautiful, and his grandmother was pretty.
Dark braids, threaded with tiny golden rings, frad her face that still turned heads—high cheekbones, full lips, and those deep, enigmatic golden eyes. But her eyes were different from the normal royal, she had a natural blue tint around her eyes that would look like eyeliner to an ignorant person.
But whatever it was, it made her a beauty in Sett's eyes.
Isra Ramses was breathtaking, no question.
Sett snapped out of it just as he reached her side—only to yelp as her fingers latched onto his ear and gave a sharp tug.
"Ow! What was that for?" he protested, rubbing the spot.
"For staring like a slack-jawed fool," she said dryly, "I'm your grandmother, not so tavern dancer."
"So what?" Sett looked at her even more, eyes roaming across her. "Beautiful things are made to be looked at."
"Not ogled at."
She gave a flick on Sett's forehead, smiling.
Sett truly hadn't changed in the few years she hadn't seen him.
Sett rubbed his forehead, smiling himself. "So, old woman, what wind brought you here, weren't you traveling?"
Isra glared. "Old?"
"Beautiful but surely old," Sett said, moving back with a guarding stance. "Don't forget that you are a grandmother. There is no grandmother out there who is not old."
"Cheeky kid," she said with a shake of her head.
But Sett took that mont to move in for his attack and hugged her.
"So, what did you bring for your cheeky grandson?"
She looked at him with interest. Unlike before, Sett was now just as tall as her, so she was no longer the one taking him into a hug but the other way around. The brat seed to have planned this from long ago.
She found it a bit novel to be in such an embrace.
"I would have kicked you in the balls if my wine spilled," she said. "But talking about what I brought you, I brought you a lot of novels."
"Of course I've trained not to spill wines while emb—" Sett blanked out, realizing that he was about to reveal one of his most embarrassing secrets. "I an, what kind of novels?"
She smirked at him. "Novels of all sorts? I don't know, I am not the reading type."
Sett nodded, then grew a bit more serious.
"So grandma, why did you co back, didn't you say you hate the capital and its politics?"
She raised her wine, drinking with a pondering face. "I just ca to see my cheeky grandson, of course. And all I've got since I saw him is a 'Why did you co?'"
Sett rubbed the back of his head in embarrassnt. "I didn't an it that way."
She looked at him and raised the goblet to his lips. He drank with relish, knowing that he wouldn't be chided by his mother if it was his grandmother giving it to him. Isna watched him with a chuckle.
"You look like a dog," she said.
Sett's face beca red and he stopped drinking.
She wiped his face with her sleeves. "I did co to see you, kid. And don't look at with that 'you are lying eyes,' I will feel like a useless grandmother if you do. I really did co to see you. I missed this banter."
Sett squinted. "And?"
She saw the 'there is more to this' eyes and knew he wouldn't like her lying.
"...Because your mother called for to teach you in the ways of a Tomb Raider."
"I knew it," Sett said, disappointed but also excited.
Isra couldn't help but feel pity for Sett. She rubbed his cheeks. "My child, I honestly did miss you a lot. If you doubt it, just ask my Tomb Raider friends, I filled their ears with stories about you. I would never co back if it weren't for you."
Sett sighed dramatically. "In the end, that was the limit of our bond. I understand."
Isra's face beca stern, then she deflated. "Really, who did you take after?"
"I don't know. So when are we leaving for the Tombs?"
"Now."
"Okay, let prepare!"
Sett leaned in, gave a peck to the side of her lips—remained like that for an extra second—and ran away.
She just watched, lifting her own chin with a finger.
She really had a little lightning ball for a grandson.
A few minutes later, he returned, clad in heavy armor and a long crimson cape. He looked dashing, like a hero on the way to save cities. Of course, to Isra, he seed like an edgy kid who wanted to impress her.
Isra's eyes twitched. "What is all this?"
He even had a ceremonial sword in his hand.
Sett blinked. "Style. Don't worry, you won't get it. This is new gen."
A smack in the head was enough to make him get it. He was made to remove half the unnecessary equipnt, remove all the extra baggage. Of course, the useless ceremonial sword remained—to Isra's chagrin.
And Sett's delight.
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