Mummy Evolution-Chapter 24: Flip of the Coin (1/2)

Zainah awoke to the faint dampness of drool clinging to the corner of her lips. For a moment, her mind swam in confusion, the fog of sleep slow to lift.

Then, like a cold wind cutting through the haze, she froze. Her arms were wrapped tightly—too tightly—around another. Her face was buried in the crook of a neck, the warmth of skin pressed against her cheek

To her chagrin, she even felt so... comfortable.

Her breath hitched, and she hurriedly wiped the drool from her face with the back of her hand. She tried to rise, to extricate herself from the tangle of limbs, but Sett's arms were like iron bands around her waist, unyielding and firm.

She looked and noticed that his eyes were closed and he was still asleep.

Only then did she heave a deep sigh and lay back.

Of course, she no longer hid her head in his neck.

Thinking of that, she couldn't help but blush.

Where is Zarah? She wondered.

The girl was nowhere to be seen, the bed empty where she should have been. But Zainah's worry didn't last too long. Zarah was a girl of the streets, resourceful and independent. She often wandered off on her own.

If anything, Zainah felt a flicker of relief that her little sister wasn't there to witness this... indiscretion.

A faint scent caught her attention, pulling her from her thoughts., Zainah sniffed the air and was surprised at how good it smelled. It was not the air, she soon realized.

It was Sett.

The scent that clung to Sett was not the common musk of sweat or the earthy tang of the wilds, nor was it the cheap, overpowering fragrances peddled in market stalls.

No, this was something far finer, something that spoke of wealth and power. It was the scent of royal cologne, a blend of rare spices, amber, and perhaps a hint of sandalwood, mingled with something uniquely his—a faint undercurrent of steel and smoke, as though he carried the essence of battle and fire with him even in repose.

It felt solid and imperious.

Zainah's nose twitched as she inhaled deeply, almost against her will. The fragrance was intoxicating, layered and complex, like a story unfolding with every breath. It was the kind of scent worn by lords and kings, by men who commanded.

Her gaze drifted to his face, so close now that she could see with precision how the sharp lines of his features softened in sleep.

He was... handsome.

More than handsome.

She found herself reaching out with her finger, brushing lightly against his cheek.

"Your skin is surprisingly rough for how smooth it looks," she said softly.

"Really?" he asked.

Zainah blanked out.

Then she immediately tried to stand up, but predictably, she failed.

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"Why are you so resistant?" he asked, his tone almost amused.

With a sigh, he pulled her closer, shifting her until she lay atop him, her face pressed against his chest. Then he wrapped his arms around her head. She laid still, and after knowing that she couldn't fight him anyway, she just let the comfort conquer her.

"Yesterday, when that Roman kid said his family name, you froze," he said. "Why?"

"...Do you notice everything?"

"I think even that Roman kid noticed it, he was just too lazy to ask about it. He probably thought you were just surprised at his background."

"It was... that obvious?"

She could feel him kiss the top of her head.

He truly is taking all the liberties as he pleases, she thought poutily. But it is kind of... good.

"It was obvious," he said. "So why were you so startled?"

Zainah sighed, feeling even more comfortable. But somehow, the voice at the back of her head was screaming even more loudly. It was telling her to run, to hide. That this was all a curse in the mask of a blessing.

"That was the name of the noble family from which I stole the vase. The people who send the authorities on me. So, I was of course a bit taken aback when I heard the name."

"..." Even Sett was a bit speechless. "That is quite the coincidence indeed."

"...Can you let me go now?"

"No?" he said matter of factly. "I like hugging, you like being hugged. So why should I?"

She was silent for a moment before she slightly raised her head and looked at his face.

"Sett," she said. "Tell me what you are after. What do you really want? Nobody is this nice, repeatedly, for no reason."

He did not answer immediately. Instead, he shifted, sitting up with her still in his arms. She clung to him, her body betraying her even as her mind screamed warnings. He rose to his feet, carrying her as though she weighed nothing, and strode toward the bathing chamber. There, he reached for a vial of Cleaning Water, a costly luxury he had procured from the salon.

With practiced ease, he rinsed his mouth, the faint scent of purity filling the air.

Zainah watched him, her arms looped around his neck, her patience wearing thin. "Well?" she pressed.

Sett turned to her, his gaze unreadable, and let her go. He handed her the water, which she reluctantly took to clean herself up.

Before she could protest, he scooped her up again, his arms strong and unyielding, and carried her out of their modest dwelling. The slum sprawled before them, a patchwork of crumbling shanties and narrow, filth-strewn alleys.

Zainah's heart quickened as the thought of people looking at her flashed in her mind.

What will they think? she wondered, her cheeks burning.

Sett didn't seem to mind and just walked carelessly. The people of the slum looked at them, and in their eyes, Zainah saw the same emotion that was currently running through her. They must be thinking that she and Sett belonged to a different world from them. A happier one seemingly, due to the fact that he was carrying her.

It was the emotion of alienation from a way of life. But if they knew what she was thinking, they would find that she was thinking the same thing.

As if she were in a place where she didn't belong.

This is too good, she thought, such things do not exist in this world.