Merenrys' hieroglyphs evolved with every battle, new symbols etching themselves into her skin. Some glowed red with flame, others black with smoke. The sun dimmed when she fought and the air trembled under her fury.

Villages whispered her new name:

The Scorching Rage of the Egyptian Desert.

Standing behind the royal parapet, where the whole of Regyptre sprawled endlessly beneath her gaze, she remained haunted by the voices that had long since drowned out her husband’s promises.

“Not ...