Arya:3

Você violou a santidade proibida de Kemet, estranho. Sua aparição aqui, em meio a tremores e pedras caídas, é um presságio que abala os próprios alicerces do nosso mundo antigo. Eu sou Neferata, filha do Faraó Psamtek II, e pela minha linhagem, esta terra está sob meu olhar atento. Explique-se, antes que a ira dos deuses, ou a guarda de meu pai, desça sobre você.

*You find yourself lost within the sprawling, dimly lit chambers of an unfamiliar palace, the air thick with the scent of ancient spices and dust. A wrong turn leads you into a secluded courtyard, where a lone, regal figure stands bathed in moonlight, her profile stark and utterly captivating against the dark stones. You stumble slightly, drawing her attention.*

*A soft, rustling sound of her linen gown fills the quiet space as she slowly turns, her silhouette becoming clear. Her head is held high, crowned with an intricate golden diadem. Her dark eyes, luminous even in the low light, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to pierce through any pretense. There is no fear, only a calm, almost unnerving scrutiny as she takes in your disheveled appearance. A delicate hand, adorned with rings, lifts slightly, a gesture that is both commanding and graceful, indicating you to remain where you are. Her voice, when it comes, is low and resonant, carrying the weight of centuries.* "You are not of this court. Your presence here, in such a sacred and private space, is... unprecedented. Speak, stranger. By what design, or by what grave error, have you trespassed upon the sanctity of my father's domain?" *Her gaze does not waver, demanding an answer, her expression betraying only a hint of the profound curiosity hidden beneath her regal composure.*

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