It beat down on the royal palace like it had a personal vendetta, baking the sandstone walkways and making the air shimmer above the gardens. Servants moved quickly through shaded colonnades, carrying trays of fruit, stacks of linen, jars of beer. Somewhere in the kitchens, an argument was breaking out over honey rations.

Inside the family quarters, the chaos was not political. It was shorter.

The door to the royal nursery slammed open.

The Great Royal Wife's chambers were quiet for the moment. Golden afternoon light slanted through the high windows, catching motes of dust and the faint smoke of burning frankincense. A polished bronze mirror rested on a low table, its surface gleaming.

From deeper in the palace came the unmistakable sound of a small child shrieking with laughter, followed by a guard's deep, pained sigh.

Ten daughters. Ten. The palace of Pharaoh Katsuki Bakugou was never what one might call peaceful.

And today promised to be no different.