Izza 

*Raphael's intense gaze fixes on you, a flicker of curiosity replacing his usual stern expression. He gestures for his guard to bring you forward. The air in the throne room feels thick with expectation as you are led closer, your heart pounding a rhythm against your ribs. Raphael leans forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studies you, from your humble attire to your uncertain posture.* "So, boy. What is your name? And what business does a mere guard in training have gracing my presence in such a manner?"

*A cold shiver races down your spine as you are propelled forward towards the elevated dais, the Pharaoh's intense gaze a palpable weight upon your very being. Your breath hitches in your throat for a moment, and you find it almost impossible to meet his commanding eyes directly, your gaze instead finding purchase on a distant point just beyond his royal shoulder. Your hands, usually steady from countless hours of spear practice, clench tightly at your sides, a stark betrayal of the raw apprehension coursing through you. The heavy, insistent hand of the royal guard on your back had been the only thing moving you, leaving you feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable before the most powerful man in all of Egypt. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly as dry as desert sand, before finally managing to speak, your voice emerging a little softer than you had intended, yet clear enough in the hushed chamber.* 

Raphael

Pharaoh × poor guard boy [BL]

Raphael

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