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The Heartless Princess
The Heartless Princess
Author: Amanda Bittencourt

1

*This fic contains intersexuality, if you don't feel comfortable don't move on.*

Deep down, anyone who could see her naked knew that the legend that that woman was a soul collector. Black ink snaked its way down the curves of her torso to her hips, etching her skin in glorious pride over nothing less than the life of those who wished her harm.

As slyly demonic was it, the fresh body of an afterdeath by poison still lay on the carpet of her royal office, it was the place where he dealt with business... The very high walls, the books on the shelves and the paintings of his ancestors had already witnessed terrible misfortunes that that woman had already suffered for those who wanted her desirable body, or just her head at a price for to be so powerful and have so much at hand.

Naturally, she left the room, putting the golden hijab on her completely straight brown hair and headed to her room, claiming that she was not feeling well. It was clear that he always felt extremely well after killing an enemy, so much so that he enjoyed these moments of personal peace in his own presence, because there was no nobody that made him better than herself since by understanding, she knew herself in every inch and there was no need for silly explanations.

She would sit on her bed, throw off any inch of fabric that got in her way, and lie naked on the sheets, the smooth strands falling over her breasts and her brown eyes focusing on the yellowish lights of her bedroom, so peacefully the next day another few more inches of her backs would cover and the whole cycle would repeat itself again.

Attract those who hated her and had bad interests with her, liquidated no matter what, because enemies cut each other off at the root and there was no incentive for them to multiply. Over his spine was completely covered in paint, all over his back with the menacing strokes, and at the other end the terrifyingly seductive designs. One more death? Another covered piece, displaying enemy defeats as a trophy to be squandered.

Not for many, because there weren't any men capable of seeing her naked after her husband's death. But she carried it with her, and it was enough for her that she treated the lives of men as useless as a prize in the form of a tattoo.

It grew into legend for years, wherever that woman went, a crowd of people gathered in the distance, whispering in her ear that she was the soul collector princess, the one who killed men for pleasure and had each kill tattooed on her back like a map of death.

Gloriously admired for her strength as Nefertiti, feared for her bloodthirsty vengeance as Cleopatra, the want-and-taker as Nefertari, it didn't do any good to get into trouble with her. They wondered what the design could look like, wondered if she covered herself up so much to hide how much she had already killed. Everything was a question since her husband left and she was left alone.

It had been five years since the princess had become the widow of a man as powerful as she was in the East, ever since she seemed to become a vulnerable woman by being a widow, the state's persecutions began. They wanted her head because she was still influential for the low-income Egyptian people, who took to the streets to protest, in addition to that she still owned land that American multinationals would battle in blood to get by the billions.

They tried to kill her at any cost.

Just as Arab Sheiks came to Cairo, sat at his dinner table and tried to invest in gallantry to have his heart, for the so little seen and exposed beauty, but so talked about wherever he could hear his name go by. The real situation of that woman was to live in extremes, they wanted her in the same circumstances as they wanted her head at a price.

Which didn't make her fearful, just cautious and smart to isolate herself from any threat.

Back completely tattooed sustaining the fame of collect souls and live with your face publicly covered, Aistarabaw I of Egypt she is a generous princess when she wants what interests her, but very perverse when she feels threatened. The advice was unique not to get involved in that woman's ways: not the to have irritated to become the next day just a piece of what filled your skin.

***

Lauren's POV

Don't repeat this to yourself even in jest.

I glanced at the clock at its nervous tics trying to compete with me over who was more frantic to point out my delays. He ended up winning when he touched on the six and gave me the full realization that they were 30 minutes. I'm being a disaster at realizing I'm thirty fucking minutes late for the most important meeting of my final year of professional training, how do I get a fucking scholarship and degree from Yale at that level idiot of delay? Definitely not.

“Fuck, don't fuck with me.

I looked at the red light and drummed my thumbs on the steering wheel trying to find some peace within myself. I want this vacancy, but showing unpreparedness by being late right after presenting and receiving a good doctoral degree is not the best alternative.

This is a one-day thing, I Never I've been late all this time, but something that night kept me in bed to the point where I couldn't get up with my alarm clock. Pure martyrdom, maybe it's some punishment from a superior God or something, why didn't this exception happen tomorrow? On a perfect, sunny Saturday?

I touched my cell phone analyzing the latest messages, these were from my advisor, he who gave me the opportunity to participate in the meeting of Doctors of History at Yale, they wanted to address particular situations, his desire to include me on the faculty was implicit, it was the opportunity I had, I was ready and with everything fresh in mind to exercise this position at Yale, I studied my whole life there, undergraduate, master's and doctorate, Exactly nine years dedicating myself to this for a delay to push me over the cliff.

It was the most torturous 60 seconds I had to get back on the gas and overtake the chevy gray that was in front of me accelerating as much as I could, the fines could be paid off that wonderful Yale salary, I can't be late any longer. As I parked my car and quickly got out, grabbing my purse from the passenger seat, I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror, trying to soften my expression.

I took a deep breath and activated the alarm walking across the parking lot, wedging my heels into the lawns to cut corners and line up in a perfectly presentable posture as I entered the university and faced with young people going back and forth. I ducked down the side stairs and into the elevator, glancing over my shoulder and getting the look of a short lady, did she work there? I had never seen her before in my life, but I offered her a polite smile, which she returned with a curt nod.

— Which floor are you going to? – I asked looking at her.

“For the same as yours.

I nodded taking a step back holding my leather bag in front of me. Damn Lauren. I couldn't help but feel guilty, I might miss out on my dream opportunity here and now. The elevator also seemed to be part of that plot that made me go crazy. It lasted seconds that felt like years.

I sighed in relief as I got out of the elevator and walked through the corridors stopping in front of the exact room, listening to a low conversation, the same woman who was in the elevator with me came right away, she noticed my face of confusion and I just went ahead to open the door and leave let her go in first. I stepped suspiciously into the room, receiving Mr. Gold, my advisor.

—Mrs. Jauregui, she's late... - He spoke low, I gave a negative nod, I was going to say earlier that I was terribly upset about that situation, but the woman in the elevator seemed to be faster.

— Sorry, I monopolize the young woman in the center hall, we just found out we were doing art history and I didn't even know she was coming to our meeting, it was all my fault Mr Gold. – I looked at her startled, widening my eyes slightly, she kept her gaze on my advisor who seemed all melted by her presence, they all were, and I didn't even know their name. It was a help, she was giving me a hand here, I was too shocked to manage to say anything with any cohesion.

"Apologies accepted, that's very nice Lauren, I see you've met Mrs. Ursel. – He spoke excitedly, as if I was already intimate with that lady, even though I had no idea who she represented within the university. I just overdid myself by smiling awkwardly and letting her help me, later I could thank her without any fear.

I looked at the group of professors who had even taught me at that university and they all seemed excited and familiar with my presence, whoever this Miss Ursel was, she was good enough to even erase my memory delay disaster.

— Let's get down to business, I have great news for you from Brussels, you should already know in advance that you've been chosen. - The woman spoke excitedly putting her bag aside, and Mrs. Gold gave me a chair next to her, I could breathe with some relief watching her as I was the only one standing explaining her pretensions.

— The text was perfect, we want you for the expedition. – She simply spoke as if she justified everything. I looked at Gold who was beyond excited, he looked over his shoulder and saw my confusion.

— We are going to Egypt on an expedition with the Royal Museum of Art and History in Brussels, they chose us because I submitted their latest paper on research into pyramid art, this is the first official expedition you will be participating in Miss Jauregui, smile broadly that we can take your name down in history, your grandparents in Mexico will be delighted to hear that their surname has ended up in museums across Europe. – He whispered at a speed that made me process the news in a frantic way.

I was in pure ecstasy as I realized that the woman in the elevator was the most important presence in the meeting and that she literally saved me from a nightmare that would shatter years of my dedication. I just wanted to hug her frantically to distribute kisses on that angelic face of the lady of the field.

— The months will be open for determinations, but we are going to stipulate a year so that we can finish everything as calmly as possible, finding out what we have at hand. – She spoke in an encouraging way, her hands gesturing in the air. I was in, I'm going to Egypt representing Yale.

I was so excited that I wanted to be able to let out all those feelings, but I held back, paying attention to every detail she spoke about, and it was in the course of her speeches that I realized her position within the Museum in Brussels, they represented them, it was an important historian who invited expeditions to Universities with well-placed historians.

It was the most satisfying chance I've ever had.

In the end, the meeting that I thought was about something specific within the university, was nothing less than a position expected by them, everyone lived with expectations. I was already caught up in a thousand plans, mentally tracing all my steps to go on this trip, what came after this one year away would be the consequences.

I love consequences, because I've always done everything so right that they always came in tones of goodwill for me.

Ursel spoke to Gold privately when the meeting was over, and then asked to speak with me privately, I watched as she reached for her purse on the table as everyone left in long, excited strides.

“They don't understand that historians need to be late for pleasantries, we always need something more to tell. - She seemed so pleased talking to me that way while rummaging in something inside her purse. I felt good, because she made me feel good with her defensive stance at my terrible delay.

— I am immensely grateful that you lied for me, I don't know what happened and you saved my chances within the University. “I needed to be honest with that lady. She smiled so sympathetically, the most marked features of her face were projected in an angled nose and hair that went to her shoulders in a dark reddish brown tone, she wore just like me, a well-cut pantsuit, she would be easily confused as any teacher in high school. Yale, not like a museum Belgian.

— I think I had a good feeling with your friendliness in the elevator, I loved your article on Egypt, you seem to know a lot about Egypt, fruit of good research or recurring visits to Alexandria and Cairo? – She asked looking over her shoulder. And I was flattered that my work was on the way to greater recognition. I worked hard on it.

— Just research, I haven't had the pleasure of going to Egypt yet.

She smiled even wider.

— Well, get ready, we'll go, see you next week in the expedition group?

It was so surreal that she would ask so matter-of-factly, but I nodded with a smirk trying to internally pretend that position was nothing more than flattering. From a PhD to an expedition sponsored by an international Museum.

I am fucking good.

She was gone as soon as she gave me a polite goodbye, clutching her bag the same way she came in. Gold was waiting for me outside, he looked at me over the lenses of his glasses, curious about the powerful woman intending to speak with me alone.

— She loved its potential, reading everything she wrote was what made her decide for us, if the expedition is from Yale it was the result of her research, I think it's a good time to commemorate Mrs. Jauregui, you are definitely from Yale. – He touched my shoulder and smiled, making me excited about the prospects of recognition. I worked with Gold from the moment I finished my degree and got involved with the Masters, and he was so kind to be such a respected professor within Yale to give me help two times in a row, it was 5 years of joint Masters and Ph. I dedicated myself exclusively to the University, without employing myself in anything other than the scholarships I always received, I always aimed at a position within here.

And today it became real.

I contained my excited spasms in the hall when I saw that there were still a few of my old teachers there, they smiled at me.

— To think that seeing you studying in our classrooms would bring you here, as our work partner, is priceless. – That was Rudolph, he was short, he loved straight-cut trousers and sometimes wore a beret matching his cashmere, he was of Portuguese descent, I remember him telling about his childhood in Lisbon. His tender smile was the complete opposite of class moments, he was always one of the most feared men inside Yale for his complex assessments. I was always the last one out of all of them.

"The pleasure is all mine, I truly appreciate it."

— No more formalities needed, we're on the same team now, let's do justice to that. – He paused to call me so that we could go to the elevator together with his work partner. I'm younger than most of the professors at this university by a good 30 years if not more.

They accompanied me downstairs and we soon parted ways with the certainty that we would all meet again next week, and I really needed to get back home and sort out my whole life before leaving on a year-long trip. Before going, I allowed myself to have a reinforced coffee.

Calling my parents, talking to my building manager, leaving money for bills...

I've never been so happy to have so much to do.

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Kristen Sam
The grammar doesn't look GOOD
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