Hello, reader! This is a one timer. I wrote this for a history project, and I thought I would just publish it since I haven't published anything for the past two years. The story will sound quite odd, because I had to put facts in and that was difficult. With that being said, this story is fiction, but the dates and other things are facts(or at least according to my history book). Just kind of like a Rick Riordan book. Tell me what you think, enjoy:)

~Vanessa xx

The date is 1492 B.C. and there's nothing more painful than having to do something you absolutely, positively don't want to do. I cried, I begged, and pleaded with Amon-Re. But as the days went on by, I saw no change in my father. Amon-Re ignored my wishes, and now it's too late. Tomorrow's the day. The day, I, Hatshepsut, get married.

I know I shouldn't be making a big deal out of this since almost every royal girl my age (15 years-old) has to go through this a some point, but I cant help but feel sorry for myself. I won't every see my room again, my beautiful bedspread with golden thread that I've had since I can remember. I'll have to share a room with, with a COMPLETE stranger, who won't know anything of me and I him. I'll have to, dare I say it, please him whenever he wants. I won't even have control over my body! Yes, I may be expecting the worse but when has anything ever gone my way?

Forgive me Amon-Re, but I thought surely you would help me. I mean, you did make me a divine child from my mother, Queen Ahmes's womb. How come you couldn't get me out of this marriage?

A knock on the door interrupts my disrespectful thoughts.

"Yes-s?" I stutter and get up from my bed.

"Princess Hatshepsut, I've got your towels for your bath," my servant exclaims. I open the door quickly and gesture for her to put them on the bed. She slowly walks in and when she's halfway to my bed she drops a towel.

"Oh dear me! Forgive me, princess! I'll bring another one, forgive me!" She looks frightened for her life as if I'll pull out a knife and cut her throat out. It makes me quite sad by how scared the servants always are. It's not that they don't have a right to be though, my father, Thutmose I, can be an angry guy for sure.

I'm about to tell the poor servant that it's fine but then a thought occurs to me. My mouth speaks before I even comprehend what I'm doing.

"NO! The whole day is ruined because of you now! Look at what you have done! I think I might have to consult this with the Pharaoh," I say to her.

"No, please!" The young servant falls down to her knees and starts sobbing tremendously. "Please, I'll do anything! Absolutely anything!"

"Very well, undress," I remark. I can't believe my words! But I can't stop now. I've got to go through this.

The servant widens her eyes but does exactly what I told her. I look away and thrust my hand out.

"Princess, I'm not sure I understand-d..?"

"Give me your clothes, servant. Then I want you to cover yourself with a blanket from my bed and sit in the corner." I sigh obnoxiously; to make sure she believes the rude princess act.

"A blanket, from your bed?"

"YES!" I yell exasperatedly. Yes, I know, it's not allowed for servants to do that but I don't want her to just be naked. I hear her scurry to my bed and I immediately change out of my own clothing, which takes longer because of all my jewelry. I carefully take off my plaited wig, and wipe my face furiously from makeup. I lift my head and see the servant still shivering.

"Erm, you can put my clothes on if you want," I say but I see her eyes widen yet again and assume she'd rather kill herself than 'disgrace' me by wearing anything I own. "Well, do I still have some makeup on?"

"You still have blue dye on your eyes, princess," she whispers. I grab my gown and wipe it off. When I'm finally done putting on her clothes, which if I may say, reek of peasant, I look at myself in the mirror. Great, I look like peasant.

"Okay, this is what you're going to do. You're going to stay here put and not open the door to anyone. I guess eventually you are going to have to, but for tonight there's no need. Tell them I've gone and won't come back. Do you understand?" I command and question her.

The servant nods her head and I open the door, take a last look around my room, and walk out.

The first thing I expect to see is guards but nobody's out here. Strange. I carry my feet across the open courtyard and am about to turn to the right when a man yells my name, or the servant's name.

"Osira, you filthy pig!" The man is a guard, I can tell from his attire. He does something I least expect, he grabs me by my hair.

"How about you come to my room and show me a good time." He snarls in my ear. I'm about to open my mouth and scream when the man is yanked by his own hair and thrown to the ground. I look up to see my savior and see the most striking man I've laid my eyes on.

"Guard, don't you think you should be doing your job and guard Hatshepsut's door?" The beautiful man says. The guard scurries up and just runs away.

"Disrespectful punk," the man whispers. He turns his head my way and I can't help but marvel at him. He has beautiful black curly locks, tan arms, and chocolate brown eyes that look at you like you're the most vital thing in the world. He kicks the ground with his pointed, curled shoes. He certainly is no servant if he owns those, then who is he?

"Sorry you had to endure that, may I walk you to your, um, room?" This man, wants to walk a servant girl to her little shack?

"Yes-s," I barely stutter out. I'm still so astonished by his beauty. He looks at me, and oh my, are we having a moment? No, of course not, he's looking at me to direct the way. I don't even know where to lead!

"Are you lost?" He gently lifts my chin up with the tips of his fingers so I look him in the eye again. I fail to respond for another 10 seconds. "What's your name?"

I start to say Hatshepsut but then correct myself. "Osira."

"Oh! I've heard many of the other, um, servants talk about you in the north servant area. I'll just walk you there, come on." He starts walking away and I hurry to catch up to his long muscled legs. We walk in silence for couple minutes, which is nice. I want to ask him who he is, and where he comes from but I'm too afraid.

"How's your day been, Osira?" He finally breaks the lovely silence.

"M-my day? It's been...," I contemplate whether on telling him the truth or lying. "it's not one of the best."

"How come?"

"Because…because the whole day I've been worrying about tomorrow." I say truthfully. I look to him to see what his reaction is, but all he does is scrunch his eyebrows.

"What do you have tomorrow that would trouble you? If you don't mind me asking."

"...," Now that I can't tell him. He regards the silence.

"Okay, have you tried anything to stop the bad thing that will happen tomorrow?" He asks.

"Yes! I prayed to Amon-Re day and night, and I'm actually in the process of doing something against it," I'm horrified at myself for admitting that to him and horrified he'll say something about it, but he just nods.

"Why would you do something against it if Amon-Re has already decided that you shouldn't do it?" The boy doesn't say it in a way of accusing me, but he says it in a pondering way.

I'm about to say something else, when I ask myself the same question. How could I be so selfish as to not see that? If I don't get married tomorrow, Egypt won't have a new queen.

"Oh, Osira, we're here," The boy scratches the back of his head and looks at me awkwardly. I don't want to leave him, but I have no excuse to have him stay with me.

"Thank you, for walking me. It was nice to meet you…?"

"Oh, that's right, I didn't tell you my name. Just call me Moses." He says. I start to walk away, or more like sulk away, when he calls out to me.

"Um, do you think we can do this again? I mean, Ugh! I can't, but," he looks alarmed and I sense sadness from him. "I'm afraid this is the last time I'll see you, Osira."

I feel like sobbing. I've only just met this gentleman and yet I don't want that.

"I understand." I whisper quietly. I walk fast, turn the corner, and wait till I hear him walk away.

Having that talk with him is just what I needed to hear. I have to do what's right. I keep thinking that mantra all the way to my own room.


I lift my head from my hands to a loud bang on my door. I wipe the dried tears from my eyes.

"Yes?" I croak, my throat is all soar from crying all-night and right now.

"Princess, we are here to escort you." I look in the mirror one more time. I look elaborate, just as a queen should look like. I open the door.

"Very well." I say to the guards. I walk out and I almost brake down again. This is what I have to do.

When we get to the place, my heart is knocked out of my chest. There sits my father on his throne, my mother beside him, and Moses. Is he…is he…

"Daughter, meet your groom, Thutmose II."

Moses, or Thutmose II, winks at me and I know I certainly made the right choice.