So Amunet's first mission was different from what she expected. Teremun had woken her up laughing loudly and told her he needed her to check up on something for him. His name was Chuma and he was a temporary advisor. The typical wealthy with thousands of slaves and a large gut pooling at his waist. Upon seeing him, Amunet had cringed. He sweats profusely and walks like his body's too heavy to carry. He looked stupid and disgusting but not harmful.

"Why do you want me to investigate such a man? Sure he's pathetic, but I highly doubt he could manage to do anything on his own," Amunet had commented one afternoon as she watched Chuma from the high palace room. He was wandering the garden and Amunet wrinkled her nose as he made his way inside. Amunet turned to look at Teremun who had his sword laid across his lap. A slight smile touched his lips but he never lifted his eyes to look at Amunet.

"That's exactly the point." Teremun covered his eyes from the sun as he reclined in his seat. "Chuma's a idiot so I find it very unlikely that he made all his money without anyone else's help. Not to mention the success of his market. Someone's partnering with him. Or using him. I want to know who and why and you need to find out for me."

Amunet nodded and left a brooding Teremun. Amunet started her research on Chuma that following evening. She quickly learned he was rather stupid and she immediately understood Termun's suspicions. He walked around the palace as if he was going to be attacked. Constantly glancing over his shoulder and jumping at ever noise. Amunet blended into the shadows as she watched him and eased her way around several columns to stay hidden but still in close ear shot. She contemplated a good way to approach him and eventually looked down at her own clothes. Teremun had adorned her in the finest silks made with brilliant colors along with sparkling jewels of every type. Her dark hair was washed and smooth and her skin unblemished and perfumed. If anyone saw her they would think she was either a Consort or an individual of high status. Not a simple dancer who also happened to be the Pharaoh's concubine.

Amunet disappeared quickly and returned in her old attire: her revealing cloths that exposed much of her body. And the cheap gold bracelets that circled her wrists and ankles. She drew another line of kohl around her eyes and braided her hair down her back. She rounded the corner where Chuma stood staring at a few war artifacts of the Pharaohs of the past. Amunet made sure she was heard as she walked towards him. Chuma turned towards the sound and Amunet watched his eyes grow wide at her approach.

Amunet nodded in his direction and casually strolled past him. She was torn between cringing and smiling when he reached a hand out to grab her wrist.

"What is your name?" He asked practically panting. Amunet's violet eyes looked down at the disgusting man and forced a gentle smile.

"I do not have a name," Amunet lied smoothly. "I am simply a slave transferred between royalty to entertain."

Chuma's eyes widened but also filled with doubt and worry that Amunet wasn't expecting. Chuma's grip didn't loosen and instead he began pulling her away. Amunet raised an eyebrow behind his back and glanced over her shoulder. She looked up at Teremun's window and was surprised to find him watching her. His face looked contorted and the muscles of his neck restricted and pulsed. The worry was evident on his face but as was his anticipation. Amunet looked back at Chuma and felt a new surge of passion to discover what Chuma was up to. A new desire to please Teremun. She rolled her eyes. Since when did she become so determined to please the Pharaoh?