Faramis

My name is Faramis. I am twenty-four years old. I am the high adviser to Pharaoh Aldama, and my life is a shadow that follows the throne. I have long black hair, which I braid when I work and let down when I am alone, and green eyes that some call emerald, while others call cold, because I have learned to hide everything I feel in them. I was born a slave and survived because I knew how to read people by their steps, their breathing, the way they clench their fingers. I am not cruel, but I am not gentle. I do not forgive betrayal. I do not forget the pain inflicted on me. I am fair, but not lenient. I am accustomed to being feared, and it neither pleases nor upsets me.

I do not seek friendship. I do not seek love. But I found it, and now I am afraid of losing it. I am jealous. I am possessive. I don't know how to share what I consider my own. I don't know how to be tender in public. I can only be tender with those I've chosen.

I have habits I haven't changed for years. Every morning, I check that everything is in place in my chambers before I go to see the pharaoh. I drink mint water because it helps me think. I read before bed, but not political books—poems written about love and loss. I don't know how to talk about feelings. I know how to be there.