Kiya found me in the garden at dawn.
I'd taken to walking the paths early, before the palace stirred to life. The quiet hours helped me think, and gods knew I had enough to think about. Coronation preparations consumed most of my days, but my nights were filled with strategy—mapping threats, cataloging allies, preparing for whatever Ptahmose and Nefertari had planned.
"You're brooding again." Kiya fell into step beside me, her simple linen a stark contrast to the elaborate robes other consorts favored. "At least you're doing it somewhere pretty."
"Contemplating," I corrected. "Queens don't brood."
"You're not Queen yet. You have three more days to brood as much as you like." She guided me toward a bench hidden behind flowering jasmine, the scent thick and sweet in the morning air. "I have information you'll want to hear."
I sat, patting the space beside me. "Tell me."
"Your stepfather has been busy." Kiya's voice dropped, forcing me to lean closer. "My sources in the temple district report unusual meetings. Ptahmose has been receiving visitors from the Temple of Osiris—multiple visits, always at night, always through the servants' entrance."
"That is unusual." High Priests of different temples occasionally collaborated on major festivals or royal ceremonies, but secret nighttime meetings suggested something beyond official business. "Ptah and Osiris aren't traditionally aligned."
"No. They have different domains, different rituals, different purposes." Kiya's expression sharpened. "But they share one thing: both temples have historical connections to binding rituals. Containment of dangerous forces."
Seth's warning echoed in my memory. Your stepfather serves old masters. Gods who opposed my freedom.
"What else?"
"The Osiris priests who visit aren't ordinary clergy. They're from a specialized order—the Keepers of Ma'at. Ancient even by temple standards. Their focus is maintaining divine order, correcting imbalances." Kiya's eyes met mine. "The kind of imbalance a freed chaos god might represent."
I pressed my palm against my birthmark, feeling its familiar warmth. "They want to re-bind him."
"That's my assumption. Though the specifics remain unclear." She placed a weathered hand over mine. "Whatever they're planning, you're central to it. The vessel that freed him would logically be needed to cage him again."
"Which is why Nefertari is here. To get me to the temple, away from palace protection."
"Most likely." Kiya squeezed my hand before releasing it. "I've told you what I know. The rest you'll need to discover yourself—and quickly. The coronation creates opportunities for those who wish you harm."
"Why are you helping me?" The question had been burning since she first offered counsel. "You gain nothing from my success."
"I gain everything from stability." Kiya rose, brushing jasmine petals from her linen. "Chaos benefits no one except those who profit from destruction. You're a stabilizing force, child—whether you realize it or not."
She walked away before I could respond, disappearing through the garden archway with the quiet confidence of someone who'd been navigating palace politics since before I was born.
I sat with her information for several minutes, fitting pieces into a larger pattern. Ptahmose, Osiris priests, binding rituals, Nefertari as bait. The shape of their plan was emerging, but I still lacked crucial details.
I needed more sources. More eyes in places I couldn't reach.
Which brought me to Tia.
The Temple of Anubis squatted at the edge of the necropolis, its black stone absorbing the midday sun. I had come with minimal escort—two guards waiting outside, a simple veil obscuring my features. The future Queen visiting a temple wouldn't raise eyebrows. The future Queen visiting a disgraced rival would raise questions.
I found her in the outer courtyard, scrubbing flagstones with a brush that had seen better years. Her fine linen had been replaced by coarse servant's weave. Her elaborate cosmetics were gone, leaving her face bare and older-looking than I remembered. The fall from palace favorite to temple drudge had not been kind.
"Tia."
She looked up, and I watched recognition flicker through surprise into something harder. Hatred, certainly. But also calculation—the instinct of a survivor weighing her options.
"Lady Persenet." She rose slowly, setting down the brush. "Or should I call you Your Majesty now? I hear congratulations are in order."
"The coronation hasn't happened yet."
"But it will." Bitterness edged her voice. "The half-Greek bastard becomes Queen while I scrub floors for priests who barely remember my name. The gods have a cruel sense of humor."
"The gods had nothing to do with your fall. You did that yourself." I stepped closer, close enough to speak without being overheard. "The wine incident. The constant undermining. The campaign to destroy me that ended with your own destruction instead."
"I was trying to survive."
"So was I. I was simply better at it."
Silence stretched between us, heavy with history I had no interest in rehashing. Tia's jaw worked, pride warring with pragmatism exactly as I'd hoped.
"Why are you here?" she finally asked. "To gloat? To remind me of everything I've lost?"
"To offer you a choice." I kept my voice neutral, matter-of-fact. "You can remain here, scrubbing floors and nursing grudges until you're too old to remember why you're bitter. Or you can become useful to me—and earn back something of what you've lost."
Her eyes narrowed. "Useful how?"
"You have access to temple networks I don't. Priests talk to servants. Servants hear things meant to stay secret." I tilted my head, studying her reaction. "My stepfather is planning something. The temples are involved. I need information, and you're positioned to provide it."
"You want me to spy for you."
"I want you to make a choice about your future." I stepped back, giving her space to think. "Remain my enemy, and remain here—forgotten, diminished, scrubbing stones until your hands bleed. Or become my ally, and when I'm Queen, I'll restore you to the palace. Not to the harem—you've burned those bridges. But to a position of comfort. A life worth living."
Tia's expression shifted through emotions I couldn't quite read. Suspicion, certainly. But also hunger—the desperate craving of someone who'd tasted luxury and been cast into poverty.
"Why should I trust you? You have every reason to want me destroyed."
"If I wanted you destroyed, you'd already be dead. The Pharaoh favors me. A word from me, and you'd vanish into the desert where no one would ever find you." I let the threat settle before softening my tone. "But I'm not interested in revenge. I'm interested in survival—mine and, if you're wise, yours. We can be useful to each other."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then I leave, and you go back to scrubbing floors. Nothing changes for you." I shrugged. "But nothing improves either. You'll spend the rest of your life here, growing older and more bitter, while I become Queen and forget you ever existed."
The words landed exactly as I'd intended. Tia's pride crumbled against the weight of her circumstances—the menial labor, the lost status, the future stretching empty before her.
"What do you want me to do?"
The question came out rough, reluctant, but it was capitulation nonetheless.
I allowed myself a small smile. The first piece of my network had fallen into place.
"Listen," I said. "Watch. Report anything you hear about my stepfather, the Temple of Osiris, or rituals involving binding or containment. Be careful—if they suspect you're gathering information, they won't hesitate to silence you."
"And my restoration?"
"Happens after the coronation, once I have the authority to arrange it properly." I met her eyes, letting her see the steel beneath my composure. "Betray me, and I'll ensure you spend the rest of your life somewhere far worse than this temple. Serve me well, and you'll have everything you lost and more."
Tia nodded once, the gesture tight with suppressed pride. But she nodded.
I left her there among the flagstones and the shadows, a fragile alliance forged from mutual desperation rather than trust. It wasn't ideal. But it was a start.
The serpents were gathering around me. It was time I gathered some of my own.