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As soon as she’d emerged from Iahotep’s rooms, Nia had seen the slave that so innocuously swept the floor nearby. Why on earth would anyone be sweeping so late at night when all the rest of the palace slept? The fact that it was a woman she’d never seen before only made her that much more uneasy. There was only one slave that the Pharaoh ever sent to summon her, and it was not this one. Was she spying? Or was she truly as innocent as she tried to pretend?
Instead of saying anything, Neithotep merely ignored her existence, hastening down the hall as if she had some place to be. Perhaps she was just being paranoid. After all, it was the royal palace. Slaves were bound to be active through the night. And what were the chances one was going to say anything about her, anyway? What slave would out their Pharaoh in such a way?
It still made her nervous.
Entering the grandiose building again the next day, Nia was hyper aware of any looks that were cast her way, any voices that murmured as she went by. Were they looking at her strangely? Had they heard anything? Did they know? Pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders, she hastened for the gardens and tried not to let her paranoia get the better of her. No one was stopping her or accosting her, so surely no rumors had started to spread. Or perhaps they wouldn’t say anything if they knew? Gods, but this was why she hated Court so much. She didn’t understand how the rules were supposed to work.
The only reason she was even here at all was because of Iahotep. He demanded she spend more time in the Palace, even if he couldn’t summon her to his bed every night. He said he liked knowing she was in the same building and seeing glimpses of her as they passed each other in the halls. That he liked watching her when she came to Court. She suspected it was mostly to keep an eye on her, but whatever it was, she hated it.
Yet here she was.
Winding through the lovely maze that the gardens formed, she found a bench relatively deep within the foliage and settled down with a soft sigh. Fingertips idly caressed the stone beneath her as she readjusted her black kalasiris so that it wouldn’t get caught up under feet. After a few minutes of blissfully thoughtless silence, she heard footsteps on the path nearby and tensed, looking up only to find the Queen herself.
Dark eyes widening in surprise, Neithotep jumped to her feet and into a hasty bow. The last person she had expected to run into was Hatshepsut, and with the bite marks and bruises left by the Queen’s own husband ill-concealed by the golden shawl wrapped around her shoulders, she felt an uncomfortable shift in her stomach. She doubted the young Queen would linger overlong in her presence, but she was still uncomfortable, nonetheless. What did one say to the wife of the man they were embroiled in an unwilling affair with?
“Good afternoon, Your Evening Radiance,” Nia murmured in a blessedly steady voice before finally straightening back up. “A lovely day for a walk, is it not?”
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She knew she’d been spotted last night.
As soon as she’d emerged from Iahotep’s rooms, Nia had seen the slave that so innocuously swept the floor nearby. Why on earth would anyone be sweeping so late at night when all the rest of the palace slept? The fact that it was a woman she’d never seen before only made her that much more uneasy. There was only one slave that the Pharaoh ever sent to summon her, and it was not this one. Was she spying? Or was she truly as innocent as she tried to pretend?
Instead of saying anything, Neithotep merely ignored her existence, hastening down the hall as if she had some place to be. Perhaps she was just being paranoid. After all, it was the royal palace. Slaves were bound to be active through the night. And what were the chances one was going to say anything about her, anyway? What slave would out their Pharaoh in such a way?
It still made her nervous.
Entering the grandiose building again the next day, Nia was hyper aware of any looks that were cast her way, any voices that murmured as she went by. Were they looking at her strangely? Had they heard anything? Did they know? Pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders, she hastened for the gardens and tried not to let her paranoia get the better of her. No one was stopping her or accosting her, so surely no rumors had started to spread. Or perhaps they wouldn’t say anything if they knew? Gods, but this was why she hated Court so much. She didn’t understand how the rules were supposed to work.
The only reason she was even here at all was because of Iahotep. He demanded she spend more time in the Palace, even if he couldn’t summon her to his bed every night. He said he liked knowing she was in the same building and seeing glimpses of her as they passed each other in the halls. That he liked watching her when she came to Court. She suspected it was mostly to keep an eye on her, but whatever it was, she hated it.
Yet here she was.
Winding through the lovely maze that the gardens formed, she found a bench relatively deep within the foliage and settled down with a soft sigh. Fingertips idly caressed the stone beneath her as she readjusted her black kalasiris so that it wouldn’t get caught up under feet. After a few minutes of blissfully thoughtless silence, she heard footsteps on the path nearby and tensed, looking up only to find the Queen herself.
Dark eyes widening in surprise, Neithotep jumped to her feet and into a hasty bow. The last person she had expected to run into was Hatshepsut, and with the bite marks and bruises left by the Queen’s own husband ill-concealed by the golden shawl wrapped around her shoulders, she felt an uncomfortable shift in her stomach. She doubted the young Queen would linger overlong in her presence, but she was still uncomfortable, nonetheless. What did one say to the wife of the man they were embroiled in an unwilling affair with?
“Good afternoon, Your Evening Radiance,” Nia murmured in a blessedly steady voice before finally straightening back up. “A lovely day for a walk, is it not?”
She knew she’d been spotted last night.
As soon as she’d emerged from Iahotep’s rooms, Nia had seen the slave that so innocuously swept the floor nearby. Why on earth would anyone be sweeping so late at night when all the rest of the palace slept? The fact that it was a woman she’d never seen before only made her that much more uneasy. There was only one slave that the Pharaoh ever sent to summon her, and it was not this one. Was she spying? Or was she truly as innocent as she tried to pretend?
Instead of saying anything, Neithotep merely ignored her existence, hastening down the hall as if she had some place to be. Perhaps she was just being paranoid. After all, it was the royal palace. Slaves were bound to be active through the night. And what were the chances one was going to say anything about her, anyway? What slave would out their Pharaoh in such a way?
It still made her nervous.
Entering the grandiose building again the next day, Nia was hyper aware of any looks that were cast her way, any voices that murmured as she went by. Were they looking at her strangely? Had they heard anything? Did they know? Pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders, she hastened for the gardens and tried not to let her paranoia get the better of her. No one was stopping her or accosting her, so surely no rumors had started to spread. Or perhaps they wouldn’t say anything if they knew? Gods, but this was why she hated Court so much. She didn’t understand how the rules were supposed to work.
The only reason she was even here at all was because of Iahotep. He demanded she spend more time in the Palace, even if he couldn’t summon her to his bed every night. He said he liked knowing she was in the same building and seeing glimpses of her as they passed each other in the halls. That he liked watching her when she came to Court. She suspected it was mostly to keep an eye on her, but whatever it was, she hated it.
Yet here she was.
Winding through the lovely maze that the gardens formed, she found a bench relatively deep within the foliage and settled down with a soft sigh. Fingertips idly caressed the stone beneath her as she readjusted her black kalasiris so that it wouldn’t get caught up under feet. After a few minutes of blissfully thoughtless silence, she heard footsteps on the path nearby and tensed, looking up only to find the Queen herself.
Dark eyes widening in surprise, Neithotep jumped to her feet and into a hasty bow. The last person she had expected to run into was Hatshepsut, and with the bite marks and bruises left by the Queen’s own husband ill-concealed by the golden shawl wrapped around her shoulders, she felt an uncomfortable shift in her stomach. She doubted the young Queen would linger overlong in her presence, but she was still uncomfortable, nonetheless. What did one say to the wife of the man they were embroiled in an unwilling affair with?
“Good afternoon, Your Evening Radiance,” Nia murmured in a blessedly steady voice before finally straightening back up. “A lovely day for a walk, is it not?”
The slaves in the Evening Star Palace, for the most part, were loyal to their Queen. She was sympathetic and quick to reprimand anyone in a position of authority for mistreating or overworking them. Yes, they were possessions, but they were also people and deserved to be treated with kindness. She had even thawed the hearts of some of the most rebellious and sullen among them and had won their devotion.
They were willing to do whatever she asked of then, no questions asked, which was how she had found out the identity of the woman Iahotep often took to his bed. She had set one of her most trustworthy personal slaves just beyond the door to his room and what she had discovered and reported to her mistress was appalling.
Their rooms were separated by a large communal chamber and Hatshepsut stayed out of it at night, preferring not to know what her husband did when he didn't call for her. She knew he didn't spend them by himself, but that was fine with her as long as he left her alone.
There would always be women willing to sleep with the Pharaoh simply because he was powerful, and she was certainly not jealous of the poor fools who deluded themselves into thinking that he actually cared for them. He used them just as he used her, and she doubted that any of them held his interest for very long.
She had become curious when she had heard that a finely dressed woman had been seen sneaking into his bedchamber. Hatshepsut had figured he would stick to whores and commoners who didn't mind his rough treatment, but she considered Egypt's noblewomen under her protection, and if it was one of them, she wished to know that they had gone to the Pharaoh's bed willingly and not by force.
What she had discovered had shocked her. Iahotep was dallying with the daughter of the woman who had borne her own father a son. Was it coincidence or had Neithotep H'Sheifa's mother encouraged her, perhaps to get revenge on Hatshepsut's own mother? No, she couldn't believe that of the Sirdsett. She had been nothing but kind to her. Most likely, she had no idea what her daughter was doing and she doubted that Sutekh did either.
Maybe the relationship was not consensual and Iahotep had demanded that she share his bed. And she kept coming back because he had threatened her family. Her half-brother lived in the palace, after all. It wouldn't be difficult to arrange some sort of accident. The young Queen would put nothing past her husband. He liked his power and he believed that all of Egypt belonged to him to do with as he pleased. Whatever the case, she had to know.
It was not coincidence that their paths crossed this day. Hatshepsut had been told when Neithotep had entered the gardens and had left her rooms specifically to speak to her. Tahira loped at her side and Nefret was wrapped around her neck like a shawl, her front paws braced on her mistress's shoulder so she was able to look around.
Hatshepsut's stomach felt a bit queasy but she didn't think that she would throw up. Just in case, though, a slave in her entourage carried a golden bowl for her to regurgitate into if she absolutely had to. Others carried bottles of fruit juice to refresh her and fans to cool her down with. Two guards accompanied her as well and preceded her into the clearing where Neithotep sat.
The woman stood and bowed to her, and Hatshepsut smiled. “Yes, it is a beautiful day for a walk.” She sat down on the bench that Neithotep had vacated. Nefret leapt from her shoulders and onto the ground, scampering over to sniff at the hem of Neithotep's kalisaris. Tahira sat regally at the Queen's side. “I find myself a bit tired now. This seems like a good place to rest before I continue on my way. Please join me. I haven't seen you in the gardens before. What brings you here this afternoon?”
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The slaves in the Evening Star Palace, for the most part, were loyal to their Queen. She was sympathetic and quick to reprimand anyone in a position of authority for mistreating or overworking them. Yes, they were possessions, but they were also people and deserved to be treated with kindness. She had even thawed the hearts of some of the most rebellious and sullen among them and had won their devotion.
They were willing to do whatever she asked of then, no questions asked, which was how she had found out the identity of the woman Iahotep often took to his bed. She had set one of her most trustworthy personal slaves just beyond the door to his room and what she had discovered and reported to her mistress was appalling.
Their rooms were separated by a large communal chamber and Hatshepsut stayed out of it at night, preferring not to know what her husband did when he didn't call for her. She knew he didn't spend them by himself, but that was fine with her as long as he left her alone.
There would always be women willing to sleep with the Pharaoh simply because he was powerful, and she was certainly not jealous of the poor fools who deluded themselves into thinking that he actually cared for them. He used them just as he used her, and she doubted that any of them held his interest for very long.
She had become curious when she had heard that a finely dressed woman had been seen sneaking into his bedchamber. Hatshepsut had figured he would stick to whores and commoners who didn't mind his rough treatment, but she considered Egypt's noblewomen under her protection, and if it was one of them, she wished to know that they had gone to the Pharaoh's bed willingly and not by force.
What she had discovered had shocked her. Iahotep was dallying with the daughter of the woman who had borne her own father a son. Was it coincidence or had Neithotep H'Sheifa's mother encouraged her, perhaps to get revenge on Hatshepsut's own mother? No, she couldn't believe that of the Sirdsett. She had been nothing but kind to her. Most likely, she had no idea what her daughter was doing and she doubted that Sutekh did either.
Maybe the relationship was not consensual and Iahotep had demanded that she share his bed. And she kept coming back because he had threatened her family. Her half-brother lived in the palace, after all. It wouldn't be difficult to arrange some sort of accident. The young Queen would put nothing past her husband. He liked his power and he believed that all of Egypt belonged to him to do with as he pleased. Whatever the case, she had to know.
It was not coincidence that their paths crossed this day. Hatshepsut had been told when Neithotep had entered the gardens and had left her rooms specifically to speak to her. Tahira loped at her side and Nefret was wrapped around her neck like a shawl, her front paws braced on her mistress's shoulder so she was able to look around.
Hatshepsut's stomach felt a bit queasy but she didn't think that she would throw up. Just in case, though, a slave in her entourage carried a golden bowl for her to regurgitate into if she absolutely had to. Others carried bottles of fruit juice to refresh her and fans to cool her down with. Two guards accompanied her as well and preceded her into the clearing where Neithotep sat.
The woman stood and bowed to her, and Hatshepsut smiled. “Yes, it is a beautiful day for a walk.” She sat down on the bench that Neithotep had vacated. Nefret leapt from her shoulders and onto the ground, scampering over to sniff at the hem of Neithotep's kalisaris. Tahira sat regally at the Queen's side. “I find myself a bit tired now. This seems like a good place to rest before I continue on my way. Please join me. I haven't seen you in the gardens before. What brings you here this afternoon?”
The slaves in the Evening Star Palace, for the most part, were loyal to their Queen. She was sympathetic and quick to reprimand anyone in a position of authority for mistreating or overworking them. Yes, they were possessions, but they were also people and deserved to be treated with kindness. She had even thawed the hearts of some of the most rebellious and sullen among them and had won their devotion.
They were willing to do whatever she asked of then, no questions asked, which was how she had found out the identity of the woman Iahotep often took to his bed. She had set one of her most trustworthy personal slaves just beyond the door to his room and what she had discovered and reported to her mistress was appalling.
Their rooms were separated by a large communal chamber and Hatshepsut stayed out of it at night, preferring not to know what her husband did when he didn't call for her. She knew he didn't spend them by himself, but that was fine with her as long as he left her alone.
There would always be women willing to sleep with the Pharaoh simply because he was powerful, and she was certainly not jealous of the poor fools who deluded themselves into thinking that he actually cared for them. He used them just as he used her, and she doubted that any of them held his interest for very long.
She had become curious when she had heard that a finely dressed woman had been seen sneaking into his bedchamber. Hatshepsut had figured he would stick to whores and commoners who didn't mind his rough treatment, but she considered Egypt's noblewomen under her protection, and if it was one of them, she wished to know that they had gone to the Pharaoh's bed willingly and not by force.
What she had discovered had shocked her. Iahotep was dallying with the daughter of the woman who had borne her own father a son. Was it coincidence or had Neithotep H'Sheifa's mother encouraged her, perhaps to get revenge on Hatshepsut's own mother? No, she couldn't believe that of the Sirdsett. She had been nothing but kind to her. Most likely, she had no idea what her daughter was doing and she doubted that Sutekh did either.
Maybe the relationship was not consensual and Iahotep had demanded that she share his bed. And she kept coming back because he had threatened her family. Her half-brother lived in the palace, after all. It wouldn't be difficult to arrange some sort of accident. The young Queen would put nothing past her husband. He liked his power and he believed that all of Egypt belonged to him to do with as he pleased. Whatever the case, she had to know.
It was not coincidence that their paths crossed this day. Hatshepsut had been told when Neithotep had entered the gardens and had left her rooms specifically to speak to her. Tahira loped at her side and Nefret was wrapped around her neck like a shawl, her front paws braced on her mistress's shoulder so she was able to look around.
Hatshepsut's stomach felt a bit queasy but she didn't think that she would throw up. Just in case, though, a slave in her entourage carried a golden bowl for her to regurgitate into if she absolutely had to. Others carried bottles of fruit juice to refresh her and fans to cool her down with. Two guards accompanied her as well and preceded her into the clearing where Neithotep sat.
The woman stood and bowed to her, and Hatshepsut smiled. “Yes, it is a beautiful day for a walk.” She sat down on the bench that Neithotep had vacated. Nefret leapt from her shoulders and onto the ground, scampering over to sniff at the hem of Neithotep's kalisaris. Tahira sat regally at the Queen's side. “I find myself a bit tired now. This seems like a good place to rest before I continue on my way. Please join me. I haven't seen you in the gardens before. What brings you here this afternoon?”
Nia tried her best not to look alarmed when Hatshepsut took a seat, glancing at the caracal who sat protectively at her side. The Queen had never paid much attention to her before, and she couldn’t help but distrust this sudden friendliness, especially after the night before. Looking closer at her face, she saw no hint of malice or ill will, but she was still wary. The young monarch was born and bred for the throne; surely she had learned very young how to mask her intentions. Even if Nia was nearly a decade older than the regal woman at her side, she still felt miserably out of her depth. What could she possibly have to say to the Queen of Egypt?
“Of course. It would be my honor to join you, Your Evening Radiance.”
She sank uncertainly onto the bench, glancing nervously at Hatshepsut’s entourage, though some of her anxious tension was soothed by the monkey playing with the hem of her dress. The little creature’s antics even forced Nia to crack a smile, holding out a hand for Nefret to inspect. “Aren’t you a precious little thing?” she crooned to the monkey who climbed up her knee to perch on her lap with an inquiring chirp. Ever so gently, she ran the tip of her finger over Nefret’s tiny head before turning her attention back to the Queen.
What brings you here this afternoon?
Hatshepsut’s pleasant voice made Nia pause for just a moment before she answered. She couldn’t exactly tell her that it was at her husband’s request. “The weather is quite beautiful today, and I’ve grown rather tired of the gardens in the Sheifa saraaya. It’s nice to have a change of scenery once in a while.” Shifting uncomfortably, she fought to maintain a serene look on her face, though she thought her answer was reasonable enough. The gardens of the Evening Star Palace were famed for their beauty; why shouldn’t she want to explore them?
“Is it the baby that tires you, my Queen?” Nia asked, nodding toward the gently rounded bump of Hatshepsut’s stomach. Immediately, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment; was that something that was even appropriate to ask? “I’m sorry if that’s rude or too forward,” she hastened to add, fidgeting with the fabric that covered her unoccupied thigh. “I just remember my mother getting so tired when she was carrying my siblings. It seemed if we went out to walk anywhere, she’d have to take a rest every ten minutes or so. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have something sapping at your energy all day like that.”
While she knew it was her ‘duty’ to be a wife and mother one day, the thought of bearing children had always mildly horrified Nia. She wasn’t a particularly nurturing woman, and the prospect of being responsible for another person’s life… She didn’t really think she was cut out for the job. Her look was almost sympathetic as she glanced at her unexpected companion. To carry a child so young and by such a cruel man to boot… She was only thankful it wasn’t her. Even if once upon a time, it nearly was.
“Are you excited, Your Evening Radiance? Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” Nia did her best to cover her discomfort with a smile, hiding the trembling of her hands by petting Nefret instead.
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Nia tried her best not to look alarmed when Hatshepsut took a seat, glancing at the caracal who sat protectively at her side. The Queen had never paid much attention to her before, and she couldn’t help but distrust this sudden friendliness, especially after the night before. Looking closer at her face, she saw no hint of malice or ill will, but she was still wary. The young monarch was born and bred for the throne; surely she had learned very young how to mask her intentions. Even if Nia was nearly a decade older than the regal woman at her side, she still felt miserably out of her depth. What could she possibly have to say to the Queen of Egypt?
“Of course. It would be my honor to join you, Your Evening Radiance.”
She sank uncertainly onto the bench, glancing nervously at Hatshepsut’s entourage, though some of her anxious tension was soothed by the monkey playing with the hem of her dress. The little creature’s antics even forced Nia to crack a smile, holding out a hand for Nefret to inspect. “Aren’t you a precious little thing?” she crooned to the monkey who climbed up her knee to perch on her lap with an inquiring chirp. Ever so gently, she ran the tip of her finger over Nefret’s tiny head before turning her attention back to the Queen.
What brings you here this afternoon?
Hatshepsut’s pleasant voice made Nia pause for just a moment before she answered. She couldn’t exactly tell her that it was at her husband’s request. “The weather is quite beautiful today, and I’ve grown rather tired of the gardens in the Sheifa saraaya. It’s nice to have a change of scenery once in a while.” Shifting uncomfortably, she fought to maintain a serene look on her face, though she thought her answer was reasonable enough. The gardens of the Evening Star Palace were famed for their beauty; why shouldn’t she want to explore them?
“Is it the baby that tires you, my Queen?” Nia asked, nodding toward the gently rounded bump of Hatshepsut’s stomach. Immediately, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment; was that something that was even appropriate to ask? “I’m sorry if that’s rude or too forward,” she hastened to add, fidgeting with the fabric that covered her unoccupied thigh. “I just remember my mother getting so tired when she was carrying my siblings. It seemed if we went out to walk anywhere, she’d have to take a rest every ten minutes or so. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have something sapping at your energy all day like that.”
While she knew it was her ‘duty’ to be a wife and mother one day, the thought of bearing children had always mildly horrified Nia. She wasn’t a particularly nurturing woman, and the prospect of being responsible for another person’s life… She didn’t really think she was cut out for the job. Her look was almost sympathetic as she glanced at her unexpected companion. To carry a child so young and by such a cruel man to boot… She was only thankful it wasn’t her. Even if once upon a time, it nearly was.
“Are you excited, Your Evening Radiance? Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” Nia did her best to cover her discomfort with a smile, hiding the trembling of her hands by petting Nefret instead.
Nia tried her best not to look alarmed when Hatshepsut took a seat, glancing at the caracal who sat protectively at her side. The Queen had never paid much attention to her before, and she couldn’t help but distrust this sudden friendliness, especially after the night before. Looking closer at her face, she saw no hint of malice or ill will, but she was still wary. The young monarch was born and bred for the throne; surely she had learned very young how to mask her intentions. Even if Nia was nearly a decade older than the regal woman at her side, she still felt miserably out of her depth. What could she possibly have to say to the Queen of Egypt?
“Of course. It would be my honor to join you, Your Evening Radiance.”
She sank uncertainly onto the bench, glancing nervously at Hatshepsut’s entourage, though some of her anxious tension was soothed by the monkey playing with the hem of her dress. The little creature’s antics even forced Nia to crack a smile, holding out a hand for Nefret to inspect. “Aren’t you a precious little thing?” she crooned to the monkey who climbed up her knee to perch on her lap with an inquiring chirp. Ever so gently, she ran the tip of her finger over Nefret’s tiny head before turning her attention back to the Queen.
What brings you here this afternoon?
Hatshepsut’s pleasant voice made Nia pause for just a moment before she answered. She couldn’t exactly tell her that it was at her husband’s request. “The weather is quite beautiful today, and I’ve grown rather tired of the gardens in the Sheifa saraaya. It’s nice to have a change of scenery once in a while.” Shifting uncomfortably, she fought to maintain a serene look on her face, though she thought her answer was reasonable enough. The gardens of the Evening Star Palace were famed for their beauty; why shouldn’t she want to explore them?
“Is it the baby that tires you, my Queen?” Nia asked, nodding toward the gently rounded bump of Hatshepsut’s stomach. Immediately, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment; was that something that was even appropriate to ask? “I’m sorry if that’s rude or too forward,” she hastened to add, fidgeting with the fabric that covered her unoccupied thigh. “I just remember my mother getting so tired when she was carrying my siblings. It seemed if we went out to walk anywhere, she’d have to take a rest every ten minutes or so. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have something sapping at your energy all day like that.”
While she knew it was her ‘duty’ to be a wife and mother one day, the thought of bearing children had always mildly horrified Nia. She wasn’t a particularly nurturing woman, and the prospect of being responsible for another person’s life… She didn’t really think she was cut out for the job. Her look was almost sympathetic as she glanced at her unexpected companion. To carry a child so young and by such a cruel man to boot… She was only thankful it wasn’t her. Even if once upon a time, it nearly was.
“Are you excited, Your Evening Radiance? Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” Nia did her best to cover her discomfort with a smile, hiding the trembling of her hands by petting Nefret instead.
Hatshepshut was naturally perceptive and that trait had been honed by years of training on how to tell how people felt by their mannerisms alone. Many courtiers said one thing and thought quite another and the young Queen could often sense their true emotions. She had been wrong occasionally but in this case, she believed she was right.
Neithotep seemed quite nervous in her presence, which could be because they had never spoken alone before or because she had something to hide. Not everyone was comfortable around their Queen, and she had noticed anxiety in others to whom she spoke. Most of them were probably afraid they would make some social error and anger her.
She had the power to ruin anyone she disliked, although she was too kindhearted to ever do so. It was doubtful that many people knew that. She had also been taught to conceal her feelings so as to appear regal and gracious at all times. And she was shy around everyone but the few people she knew she could trust.
The noblewoman sitting beside her did have something to hide and that was probably why she looked so tense. As she watched Neithotep play with Nefret, Hatshepsut wondered how to broach the subject of her affair with Iahotep. Should she just confront her outright or try to encourage her to confide in her?
She had never had to deal with this situation before, though she would probably have to do it again in the future if her husband couldn't keep his hands off the nobles. The Queen wanted Neithotep to know that she was concerned about her rather than jealous or furious. If he could strike his own wife without regret, what kind of torment did he put his mistresses through?
“I can understand the desire for a change of scenery,” she replied, idly scratching Tahira behind her tufted ears. “It's unusual, though, for anyone to wander through these gardens unless they already have business in the palace, either with the Pharaoh, myself, or the council.” She shrugged her bare shoulders. “But you are welcome here.”
Hatshepsut saw how Neithotep blushed when she felt she had been too bold. “It's not too forward at all. I am accustomed to personal questions about the baby. Everyone is curious about the future ruler of Egypt. It's not so much the child who tires me as the sickness that accompanies the first few months of pregnancy. I'm unable to keep much food down and often I feel weak because of it.” She didn't mention that she felt nauseous now or that it was increasing because she didn't know how to ask Neithotep about Iahotep.
This time, Hatshepsut's smile was genuine. “Yes, I'm very excited. I never expected to fall pregnant so soon after my marriage. I will love my child no matter if it is a boy or a girl, but I do hope for a boy so that the throne will be secure.” Secretly, she wanted this baby to be a girl because she was fairly certain it was Iahotep's. She wanted the next Pharaoh to be Osorsen's child instead of her husband's. It was a way she could get back at him for his cruelty to her … knowing that he raised the son of his wife's lover as his heir.
“Are you looking forward to marrying and having children of your own? You must have many suitors seeking your hand.” It was an innocuous question, but the answer might give the young Queen a way to bring up Neithotep's nighttime visits to the Pharaoh's chambers.
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Hatshepshut was naturally perceptive and that trait had been honed by years of training on how to tell how people felt by their mannerisms alone. Many courtiers said one thing and thought quite another and the young Queen could often sense their true emotions. She had been wrong occasionally but in this case, she believed she was right.
Neithotep seemed quite nervous in her presence, which could be because they had never spoken alone before or because she had something to hide. Not everyone was comfortable around their Queen, and she had noticed anxiety in others to whom she spoke. Most of them were probably afraid they would make some social error and anger her.
She had the power to ruin anyone she disliked, although she was too kindhearted to ever do so. It was doubtful that many people knew that. She had also been taught to conceal her feelings so as to appear regal and gracious at all times. And she was shy around everyone but the few people she knew she could trust.
The noblewoman sitting beside her did have something to hide and that was probably why she looked so tense. As she watched Neithotep play with Nefret, Hatshepsut wondered how to broach the subject of her affair with Iahotep. Should she just confront her outright or try to encourage her to confide in her?
She had never had to deal with this situation before, though she would probably have to do it again in the future if her husband couldn't keep his hands off the nobles. The Queen wanted Neithotep to know that she was concerned about her rather than jealous or furious. If he could strike his own wife without regret, what kind of torment did he put his mistresses through?
“I can understand the desire for a change of scenery,” she replied, idly scratching Tahira behind her tufted ears. “It's unusual, though, for anyone to wander through these gardens unless they already have business in the palace, either with the Pharaoh, myself, or the council.” She shrugged her bare shoulders. “But you are welcome here.”
Hatshepsut saw how Neithotep blushed when she felt she had been too bold. “It's not too forward at all. I am accustomed to personal questions about the baby. Everyone is curious about the future ruler of Egypt. It's not so much the child who tires me as the sickness that accompanies the first few months of pregnancy. I'm unable to keep much food down and often I feel weak because of it.” She didn't mention that she felt nauseous now or that it was increasing because she didn't know how to ask Neithotep about Iahotep.
This time, Hatshepsut's smile was genuine. “Yes, I'm very excited. I never expected to fall pregnant so soon after my marriage. I will love my child no matter if it is a boy or a girl, but I do hope for a boy so that the throne will be secure.” Secretly, she wanted this baby to be a girl because she was fairly certain it was Iahotep's. She wanted the next Pharaoh to be Osorsen's child instead of her husband's. It was a way she could get back at him for his cruelty to her … knowing that he raised the son of his wife's lover as his heir.
“Are you looking forward to marrying and having children of your own? You must have many suitors seeking your hand.” It was an innocuous question, but the answer might give the young Queen a way to bring up Neithotep's nighttime visits to the Pharaoh's chambers.
Hatshepshut was naturally perceptive and that trait had been honed by years of training on how to tell how people felt by their mannerisms alone. Many courtiers said one thing and thought quite another and the young Queen could often sense their true emotions. She had been wrong occasionally but in this case, she believed she was right.
Neithotep seemed quite nervous in her presence, which could be because they had never spoken alone before or because she had something to hide. Not everyone was comfortable around their Queen, and she had noticed anxiety in others to whom she spoke. Most of them were probably afraid they would make some social error and anger her.
She had the power to ruin anyone she disliked, although she was too kindhearted to ever do so. It was doubtful that many people knew that. She had also been taught to conceal her feelings so as to appear regal and gracious at all times. And she was shy around everyone but the few people she knew she could trust.
The noblewoman sitting beside her did have something to hide and that was probably why she looked so tense. As she watched Neithotep play with Nefret, Hatshepsut wondered how to broach the subject of her affair with Iahotep. Should she just confront her outright or try to encourage her to confide in her?
She had never had to deal with this situation before, though she would probably have to do it again in the future if her husband couldn't keep his hands off the nobles. The Queen wanted Neithotep to know that she was concerned about her rather than jealous or furious. If he could strike his own wife without regret, what kind of torment did he put his mistresses through?
“I can understand the desire for a change of scenery,” she replied, idly scratching Tahira behind her tufted ears. “It's unusual, though, for anyone to wander through these gardens unless they already have business in the palace, either with the Pharaoh, myself, or the council.” She shrugged her bare shoulders. “But you are welcome here.”
Hatshepsut saw how Neithotep blushed when she felt she had been too bold. “It's not too forward at all. I am accustomed to personal questions about the baby. Everyone is curious about the future ruler of Egypt. It's not so much the child who tires me as the sickness that accompanies the first few months of pregnancy. I'm unable to keep much food down and often I feel weak because of it.” She didn't mention that she felt nauseous now or that it was increasing because she didn't know how to ask Neithotep about Iahotep.
This time, Hatshepsut's smile was genuine. “Yes, I'm very excited. I never expected to fall pregnant so soon after my marriage. I will love my child no matter if it is a boy or a girl, but I do hope for a boy so that the throne will be secure.” Secretly, she wanted this baby to be a girl because she was fairly certain it was Iahotep's. She wanted the next Pharaoh to be Osorsen's child instead of her husband's. It was a way she could get back at him for his cruelty to her … knowing that he raised the son of his wife's lover as his heir.
“Are you looking forward to marrying and having children of your own? You must have many suitors seeking your hand.” It was an innocuous question, but the answer might give the young Queen a way to bring up Neithotep's nighttime visits to the Pharaoh's chambers.
Glancing at the young woman’s stomach, Nia smiled and forced her face to soften, even as she imagined what the child Hatshepsut was carrying would be like. Would it be a monster like its father? Or would it be tempered by the kindness of its mother? For the sake of all of Egypt, she fervently hoped for the latter. The last thing they all needed was another tyrant on the throne. “I shall pray to Hathor every day for a healthy pregnancy and safe delivery, Your Evening Radiance,” she said softly before dragging her gaze back to Hatshepsut’s. “I hope your illness does not linger overlong.”
Nia kept her anxious hands occupied with the little monkey in her lap, clasping its tiny fingers and tickling its little tummy. Hatshepsut’s question, however, nearly wrenched a bitter smile from her lips, holding back a humorless laugh as she fought to keep her expression neutral. She was dreadfully inadequate when it came to courtly manners, and hiding her emotions had never been her strong suit. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed to keep them hidden now, though luckily, she’d had plenty of practice in the preceding weeks.
“I… am not exactly the motherly type, if you’ll forgive my saying so, Your Evening Radiance,” Neithotep murmured in response, releasing Nefret’s paw to let the monkey return to her owner. She spared another glance for the caracal at Hatshepsut’s side before turning her attention back to the Queen. “I know I am meant to have children and carry on my future husband’s line, but… I cannot say the prospect brings me much joy.” Even if they were risky words, they were honest ones, and Nia felt she should be as honest as possible considering the magnitude of the secret she was withholding.
“I would like to marry someday, but I still don’t feel like I’m ready, in spite of the suitors who would come calling.” Offering the Queen a bland smile, Nia shrugged. To say such a thing to a woman nearly a decade her junior who was already married, pregnant, and bearing the weight of a nation on her shoulders seemed a foolish and childish sentiment, but it was the truth. Her emotional maturity still had a long way to go before she’d ever make a passable wife and even longer to be anything less than a disaster of a mother. “I know what people say about me when they think I’m not listening, but honestly, the things they say, as unkind as they are, are mostly true. I am a silly girl with poor taste in men, and I doubt that’s going to change any time soon.”
She was surprised at her own frankness with the woman who was nearly a stranger to her, but once the flood of speech was started, she found it difficult to dam it back up again. “My mother has started making arrangements for a potential marriage to Narmer H’Haikkadad. He is… a nice man, I suppose, and pleasant enough to look upon. If I’m not to be able to choose my own husband, he is not a bad choice, at least as far as my options go.” Her words were overly cordial, her face going even blanker than it had before. Truthfully, she loathed the idea of marriage to a Sirdar and had been very vocal in her protestations of the arrangement, but now that she’d had a little more time to sit on the idea, she didn’t find it quite as distasteful as she originally had.
There were worse men to be trapped with for the rest of her life. The husband of the woman sitting next to her was one of them.
“Forgive me, my Queen,” Nia said with a small shake of her head. “I often let my mouth get the better of me. Sometimes, I selfishly forget that I’m not the only one with burdens to bear, much less that most others carry heavier burdens than mine. I should not complain when I am so fortunate to lead the life I live.”
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Glancing at the young woman’s stomach, Nia smiled and forced her face to soften, even as she imagined what the child Hatshepsut was carrying would be like. Would it be a monster like its father? Or would it be tempered by the kindness of its mother? For the sake of all of Egypt, she fervently hoped for the latter. The last thing they all needed was another tyrant on the throne. “I shall pray to Hathor every day for a healthy pregnancy and safe delivery, Your Evening Radiance,” she said softly before dragging her gaze back to Hatshepsut’s. “I hope your illness does not linger overlong.”
Nia kept her anxious hands occupied with the little monkey in her lap, clasping its tiny fingers and tickling its little tummy. Hatshepsut’s question, however, nearly wrenched a bitter smile from her lips, holding back a humorless laugh as she fought to keep her expression neutral. She was dreadfully inadequate when it came to courtly manners, and hiding her emotions had never been her strong suit. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed to keep them hidden now, though luckily, she’d had plenty of practice in the preceding weeks.
“I… am not exactly the motherly type, if you’ll forgive my saying so, Your Evening Radiance,” Neithotep murmured in response, releasing Nefret’s paw to let the monkey return to her owner. She spared another glance for the caracal at Hatshepsut’s side before turning her attention back to the Queen. “I know I am meant to have children and carry on my future husband’s line, but… I cannot say the prospect brings me much joy.” Even if they were risky words, they were honest ones, and Nia felt she should be as honest as possible considering the magnitude of the secret she was withholding.
“I would like to marry someday, but I still don’t feel like I’m ready, in spite of the suitors who would come calling.” Offering the Queen a bland smile, Nia shrugged. To say such a thing to a woman nearly a decade her junior who was already married, pregnant, and bearing the weight of a nation on her shoulders seemed a foolish and childish sentiment, but it was the truth. Her emotional maturity still had a long way to go before she’d ever make a passable wife and even longer to be anything less than a disaster of a mother. “I know what people say about me when they think I’m not listening, but honestly, the things they say, as unkind as they are, are mostly true. I am a silly girl with poor taste in men, and I doubt that’s going to change any time soon.”
She was surprised at her own frankness with the woman who was nearly a stranger to her, but once the flood of speech was started, she found it difficult to dam it back up again. “My mother has started making arrangements for a potential marriage to Narmer H’Haikkadad. He is… a nice man, I suppose, and pleasant enough to look upon. If I’m not to be able to choose my own husband, he is not a bad choice, at least as far as my options go.” Her words were overly cordial, her face going even blanker than it had before. Truthfully, she loathed the idea of marriage to a Sirdar and had been very vocal in her protestations of the arrangement, but now that she’d had a little more time to sit on the idea, she didn’t find it quite as distasteful as she originally had.
There were worse men to be trapped with for the rest of her life. The husband of the woman sitting next to her was one of them.
“Forgive me, my Queen,” Nia said with a small shake of her head. “I often let my mouth get the better of me. Sometimes, I selfishly forget that I’m not the only one with burdens to bear, much less that most others carry heavier burdens than mine. I should not complain when I am so fortunate to lead the life I live.”
Glancing at the young woman’s stomach, Nia smiled and forced her face to soften, even as she imagined what the child Hatshepsut was carrying would be like. Would it be a monster like its father? Or would it be tempered by the kindness of its mother? For the sake of all of Egypt, she fervently hoped for the latter. The last thing they all needed was another tyrant on the throne. “I shall pray to Hathor every day for a healthy pregnancy and safe delivery, Your Evening Radiance,” she said softly before dragging her gaze back to Hatshepsut’s. “I hope your illness does not linger overlong.”
Nia kept her anxious hands occupied with the little monkey in her lap, clasping its tiny fingers and tickling its little tummy. Hatshepsut’s question, however, nearly wrenched a bitter smile from her lips, holding back a humorless laugh as she fought to keep her expression neutral. She was dreadfully inadequate when it came to courtly manners, and hiding her emotions had never been her strong suit. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed to keep them hidden now, though luckily, she’d had plenty of practice in the preceding weeks.
“I… am not exactly the motherly type, if you’ll forgive my saying so, Your Evening Radiance,” Neithotep murmured in response, releasing Nefret’s paw to let the monkey return to her owner. She spared another glance for the caracal at Hatshepsut’s side before turning her attention back to the Queen. “I know I am meant to have children and carry on my future husband’s line, but… I cannot say the prospect brings me much joy.” Even if they were risky words, they were honest ones, and Nia felt she should be as honest as possible considering the magnitude of the secret she was withholding.
“I would like to marry someday, but I still don’t feel like I’m ready, in spite of the suitors who would come calling.” Offering the Queen a bland smile, Nia shrugged. To say such a thing to a woman nearly a decade her junior who was already married, pregnant, and bearing the weight of a nation on her shoulders seemed a foolish and childish sentiment, but it was the truth. Her emotional maturity still had a long way to go before she’d ever make a passable wife and even longer to be anything less than a disaster of a mother. “I know what people say about me when they think I’m not listening, but honestly, the things they say, as unkind as they are, are mostly true. I am a silly girl with poor taste in men, and I doubt that’s going to change any time soon.”
She was surprised at her own frankness with the woman who was nearly a stranger to her, but once the flood of speech was started, she found it difficult to dam it back up again. “My mother has started making arrangements for a potential marriage to Narmer H’Haikkadad. He is… a nice man, I suppose, and pleasant enough to look upon. If I’m not to be able to choose my own husband, he is not a bad choice, at least as far as my options go.” Her words were overly cordial, her face going even blanker than it had before. Truthfully, she loathed the idea of marriage to a Sirdar and had been very vocal in her protestations of the arrangement, but now that she’d had a little more time to sit on the idea, she didn’t find it quite as distasteful as she originally had.
There were worse men to be trapped with for the rest of her life. The husband of the woman sitting next to her was one of them.
“Forgive me, my Queen,” Nia said with a small shake of her head. “I often let my mouth get the better of me. Sometimes, I selfishly forget that I’m not the only one with burdens to bear, much less that most others carry heavier burdens than mine. I should not complain when I am so fortunate to lead the life I live.”
“Thank you,” Hatshepsut replied. “Your prayers and good wishes are greatly appreciated.” Most women in Egypt were probably entreating Hathor to bring the next Pharaoh safely into the world. She planned to visit the Goddess' temple as soon as she was sure the morning sickness was gone. The petite Queen always traveled to Thebes on the royal boat and the last time she had made the trip, for the Feast of Opet, she had been nauseous and miserable. She didn't want to repeat that experience. Skylla's herbs were helping a lot and she she should be beyond that stage of pregnancy soon.
She watched as Neithotep played with Nefret. The monkey seemed to like her, but that wasn't unusual. She was very friendly. Tahira was more reserved, maybe because she sensed that many people were wary of her. The caracal had been the largest feline in the palace before Iahotep moved in with his cheetah. The two cats got along much better than than their master and mistress did. Tahira was also her protector, trained to defend her if she was attacked. She was as wary of others as they were of her and she kept her large golden eyes trained on Neithotep as she sat placidly at Hatshepsut's side.
So did the Queen. The other woman still seemed nervous, though not quite as apprehensive as she had been when Hatshepsut had come upon her. As she spoke of not being the motherly type, Hatshepsut wondered if that was because she feared that her child would be Iahotep's instead of her future husband's. It would be foolish to believe that her husband would never have any bastards. He probably already had quite a few and many of them were most likely older than she was. And she had no desire for him to be faithful to her. As long as he kept mistresses, he would not bother her so much. She just wished that he would stick to prostitutes and servants and leave the women of the great Heis alone.
This was the perfect time to bring up that relationship, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do it. “I didn't think I would be ready for motherhood either. I always knew that it was my destiny to bear Egypt's next Pharaoh and I understood that I would be married while I was very young, but I didn't look forward to either.” A serene smile turned up the corners of her lips. “But I love this little life growing within me, and I will do my best to be the kind of mother my son or daughter needs.” Unlike her own mother, who could be quite harsh at times. Hatshepsut loved and respected her but Isetheperu had never been very affectionate towards her.
Nefret jumped upon her lap and she began to pet the monkey's soft fur. The Queen paid little attention to gossip, but it was impossible not to hear about Neithotep's penchant for men who were unsuitable. Apparently they were true. Oh you definitely have poor taste in men. she thought. No woman in her right mind would subject herself to Iahotep's cruelty. After that confession, she was beginning to wonder if Neithotep had not been forced into the relationship and if she might have initiated it. Perhaps she was one of those women who were attracted to power and was willing to put up with his brutality to gain his favor.
One ebony eyebrow rose slightly when her companion revealed that her mother was trying to marry her to Sirdar H’Haikkadad, her retainer Safiya's brother. How fortunate that would be for her tyrannical husband, to have his own bastard son in charge of the Hei one day. Did Iahotep already know of the arrangements being made for his mistress? By her blank look, Niethotep didn't seem too happy at the prospect of marrying the head of a powerful Hei. Maybe the Sirdar's unfortunate financial situation had prompted him to ask for her hand, needing a wealthy wife to bolster his dwindling funds. Or Iahotep could be behind it herself.
When the woman apologized, Hatshepsut just looked at her for a long moment. “Sometimes it helps to share our burdens with others,” she said. Her eyes met Neithotep's and held her gaze. It was time to lay the cards on the table since an innocent man might be harmed by his prospective wife's actions. “Does Sirdar H’Haikkadad know that you are sleeping with my husband?”
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“Thank you,” Hatshepsut replied. “Your prayers and good wishes are greatly appreciated.” Most women in Egypt were probably entreating Hathor to bring the next Pharaoh safely into the world. She planned to visit the Goddess' temple as soon as she was sure the morning sickness was gone. The petite Queen always traveled to Thebes on the royal boat and the last time she had made the trip, for the Feast of Opet, she had been nauseous and miserable. She didn't want to repeat that experience. Skylla's herbs were helping a lot and she she should be beyond that stage of pregnancy soon.
She watched as Neithotep played with Nefret. The monkey seemed to like her, but that wasn't unusual. She was very friendly. Tahira was more reserved, maybe because she sensed that many people were wary of her. The caracal had been the largest feline in the palace before Iahotep moved in with his cheetah. The two cats got along much better than than their master and mistress did. Tahira was also her protector, trained to defend her if she was attacked. She was as wary of others as they were of her and she kept her large golden eyes trained on Neithotep as she sat placidly at Hatshepsut's side.
So did the Queen. The other woman still seemed nervous, though not quite as apprehensive as she had been when Hatshepsut had come upon her. As she spoke of not being the motherly type, Hatshepsut wondered if that was because she feared that her child would be Iahotep's instead of her future husband's. It would be foolish to believe that her husband would never have any bastards. He probably already had quite a few and many of them were most likely older than she was. And she had no desire for him to be faithful to her. As long as he kept mistresses, he would not bother her so much. She just wished that he would stick to prostitutes and servants and leave the women of the great Heis alone.
This was the perfect time to bring up that relationship, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do it. “I didn't think I would be ready for motherhood either. I always knew that it was my destiny to bear Egypt's next Pharaoh and I understood that I would be married while I was very young, but I didn't look forward to either.” A serene smile turned up the corners of her lips. “But I love this little life growing within me, and I will do my best to be the kind of mother my son or daughter needs.” Unlike her own mother, who could be quite harsh at times. Hatshepsut loved and respected her but Isetheperu had never been very affectionate towards her.
Nefret jumped upon her lap and she began to pet the monkey's soft fur. The Queen paid little attention to gossip, but it was impossible not to hear about Neithotep's penchant for men who were unsuitable. Apparently they were true. Oh you definitely have poor taste in men. she thought. No woman in her right mind would subject herself to Iahotep's cruelty. After that confession, she was beginning to wonder if Neithotep had not been forced into the relationship and if she might have initiated it. Perhaps she was one of those women who were attracted to power and was willing to put up with his brutality to gain his favor.
One ebony eyebrow rose slightly when her companion revealed that her mother was trying to marry her to Sirdar H’Haikkadad, her retainer Safiya's brother. How fortunate that would be for her tyrannical husband, to have his own bastard son in charge of the Hei one day. Did Iahotep already know of the arrangements being made for his mistress? By her blank look, Niethotep didn't seem too happy at the prospect of marrying the head of a powerful Hei. Maybe the Sirdar's unfortunate financial situation had prompted him to ask for her hand, needing a wealthy wife to bolster his dwindling funds. Or Iahotep could be behind it herself.
When the woman apologized, Hatshepsut just looked at her for a long moment. “Sometimes it helps to share our burdens with others,” she said. Her eyes met Neithotep's and held her gaze. It was time to lay the cards on the table since an innocent man might be harmed by his prospective wife's actions. “Does Sirdar H’Haikkadad know that you are sleeping with my husband?”
“Thank you,” Hatshepsut replied. “Your prayers and good wishes are greatly appreciated.” Most women in Egypt were probably entreating Hathor to bring the next Pharaoh safely into the world. She planned to visit the Goddess' temple as soon as she was sure the morning sickness was gone. The petite Queen always traveled to Thebes on the royal boat and the last time she had made the trip, for the Feast of Opet, she had been nauseous and miserable. She didn't want to repeat that experience. Skylla's herbs were helping a lot and she she should be beyond that stage of pregnancy soon.
She watched as Neithotep played with Nefret. The monkey seemed to like her, but that wasn't unusual. She was very friendly. Tahira was more reserved, maybe because she sensed that many people were wary of her. The caracal had been the largest feline in the palace before Iahotep moved in with his cheetah. The two cats got along much better than than their master and mistress did. Tahira was also her protector, trained to defend her if she was attacked. She was as wary of others as they were of her and she kept her large golden eyes trained on Neithotep as she sat placidly at Hatshepsut's side.
So did the Queen. The other woman still seemed nervous, though not quite as apprehensive as she had been when Hatshepsut had come upon her. As she spoke of not being the motherly type, Hatshepsut wondered if that was because she feared that her child would be Iahotep's instead of her future husband's. It would be foolish to believe that her husband would never have any bastards. He probably already had quite a few and many of them were most likely older than she was. And she had no desire for him to be faithful to her. As long as he kept mistresses, he would not bother her so much. She just wished that he would stick to prostitutes and servants and leave the women of the great Heis alone.
This was the perfect time to bring up that relationship, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do it. “I didn't think I would be ready for motherhood either. I always knew that it was my destiny to bear Egypt's next Pharaoh and I understood that I would be married while I was very young, but I didn't look forward to either.” A serene smile turned up the corners of her lips. “But I love this little life growing within me, and I will do my best to be the kind of mother my son or daughter needs.” Unlike her own mother, who could be quite harsh at times. Hatshepsut loved and respected her but Isetheperu had never been very affectionate towards her.
Nefret jumped upon her lap and she began to pet the monkey's soft fur. The Queen paid little attention to gossip, but it was impossible not to hear about Neithotep's penchant for men who were unsuitable. Apparently they were true. Oh you definitely have poor taste in men. she thought. No woman in her right mind would subject herself to Iahotep's cruelty. After that confession, she was beginning to wonder if Neithotep had not been forced into the relationship and if she might have initiated it. Perhaps she was one of those women who were attracted to power and was willing to put up with his brutality to gain his favor.
One ebony eyebrow rose slightly when her companion revealed that her mother was trying to marry her to Sirdar H’Haikkadad, her retainer Safiya's brother. How fortunate that would be for her tyrannical husband, to have his own bastard son in charge of the Hei one day. Did Iahotep already know of the arrangements being made for his mistress? By her blank look, Niethotep didn't seem too happy at the prospect of marrying the head of a powerful Hei. Maybe the Sirdar's unfortunate financial situation had prompted him to ask for her hand, needing a wealthy wife to bolster his dwindling funds. Or Iahotep could be behind it herself.
When the woman apologized, Hatshepsut just looked at her for a long moment. “Sometimes it helps to share our burdens with others,” she said. Her eyes met Neithotep's and held her gaze. It was time to lay the cards on the table since an innocent man might be harmed by his prospective wife's actions. “Does Sirdar H’Haikkadad know that you are sleeping with my husband?”
Their conversation seemed almost distant, as if it were occurring outside of herself. Nia thought it was like listening to words through water—she could nearly understand what was being said, but the liquid medium distorted the words just to the point where they were no longer recognizable. Perhaps it was the throbbing of her own heart in her ears that altered their speech so, but whatever it was, she wished it would be over soon. She was not sure how much longer she could sit here and pretend everything was fine when it most certainly was not.
Does Sirdar H’Haikkadad know that you are sleeping with my husband?
That question brought Neithotep back to reality more than anything else ever possibly could have, turning to look at the Queen with a blank look that did nothing to conceal her shock. So she did know. But how? Had Zoser betrayed her secret, after all? Or did Hatshepsut possess her own spies?
“I… what… you…” She could hardly do more than stammer in disbelief, her ears going red while she fought to think of what was appropriate for her to say. Should she deny it? Was it merely an accusation being leveled at her or did Iahotep’s young wife actually have proof? She opened her mouth to clear herself of any blame, forcing the words past gritted teeth, “Your Evening Radiance, why would you…”
She just couldn’t do it. The look on Hatshepsut’s face made it clear that she would not accept a denial, and after all, it was the truth. What was the point in trying to hide it if she already knew? Closing her eyes and covering her face, Nia remained silent for a long, long moment, the shuddering of her breath betraying her discomfort at so blatantly being called out. How she’d discovered their affair didn’t matter, but what Neithotep did going forward certainly did. She’d have to handle this carefully. But how?
“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered in a broken apology, her voice trembling nearly as much as her breath. “He does not know. No one does.” Except Zoser, of course, but she wasn’t about to betray her confidante, not even to the Queen. Biting her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, her shoulders shook with the force of repressed emotion. How could she explain to Hatshepsut that her nocturnal trysts with her husband were through no choice of her own?
At last, her tears broke through, salt staining the fabric of her kalasiris as the water flowed between her fingers. “I did not want this, my Queen, I swear to you by the name of every god above,” she vowed fervently, finally daring to look at her through the haze of a face blotched from crying. “He summoned me for the first time shortly after the Sed festival, and I had no choice. I thought he would tire of me quickly, but that has not been the case. I am so sorry, Your Radiance, but I cannot refuse the call of a king, no matter how much I might wish I could.”
Biting her lip, she wrung her hands in supplication, red-streaked eyes desperately pleading for understanding. “Please, you must believe me. The Pharaoh’s attention is the last thing I’ve ever wanted. I was never more content than when I was simply a shadow in the back of the Court. Maybe there are women who would fling themselves at your husband for want of title or power, Your Evening Radiance, but I assure you that I am not among them. Ask anyone who’s ever known me—I don’t scheme for power. Only for love. And I am not foolish enough to think that His Majesty would ever truly love me.”
Her words were dangerous, she knew, but she needed the Queen to know that this wasn’t something she’d asked for or initiated. Hatshepsut could easily have her subjected to all manner of unpleasantness should she truly wish it, though Nia could imagine no worse punishment than what she already endured at Iahotep’s hands. She had no wish to make a bad situation even worse.
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Their conversation seemed almost distant, as if it were occurring outside of herself. Nia thought it was like listening to words through water—she could nearly understand what was being said, but the liquid medium distorted the words just to the point where they were no longer recognizable. Perhaps it was the throbbing of her own heart in her ears that altered their speech so, but whatever it was, she wished it would be over soon. She was not sure how much longer she could sit here and pretend everything was fine when it most certainly was not.
Does Sirdar H’Haikkadad know that you are sleeping with my husband?
That question brought Neithotep back to reality more than anything else ever possibly could have, turning to look at the Queen with a blank look that did nothing to conceal her shock. So she did know. But how? Had Zoser betrayed her secret, after all? Or did Hatshepsut possess her own spies?
“I… what… you…” She could hardly do more than stammer in disbelief, her ears going red while she fought to think of what was appropriate for her to say. Should she deny it? Was it merely an accusation being leveled at her or did Iahotep’s young wife actually have proof? She opened her mouth to clear herself of any blame, forcing the words past gritted teeth, “Your Evening Radiance, why would you…”
She just couldn’t do it. The look on Hatshepsut’s face made it clear that she would not accept a denial, and after all, it was the truth. What was the point in trying to hide it if she already knew? Closing her eyes and covering her face, Nia remained silent for a long, long moment, the shuddering of her breath betraying her discomfort at so blatantly being called out. How she’d discovered their affair didn’t matter, but what Neithotep did going forward certainly did. She’d have to handle this carefully. But how?
“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered in a broken apology, her voice trembling nearly as much as her breath. “He does not know. No one does.” Except Zoser, of course, but she wasn’t about to betray her confidante, not even to the Queen. Biting her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, her shoulders shook with the force of repressed emotion. How could she explain to Hatshepsut that her nocturnal trysts with her husband were through no choice of her own?
At last, her tears broke through, salt staining the fabric of her kalasiris as the water flowed between her fingers. “I did not want this, my Queen, I swear to you by the name of every god above,” she vowed fervently, finally daring to look at her through the haze of a face blotched from crying. “He summoned me for the first time shortly after the Sed festival, and I had no choice. I thought he would tire of me quickly, but that has not been the case. I am so sorry, Your Radiance, but I cannot refuse the call of a king, no matter how much I might wish I could.”
Biting her lip, she wrung her hands in supplication, red-streaked eyes desperately pleading for understanding. “Please, you must believe me. The Pharaoh’s attention is the last thing I’ve ever wanted. I was never more content than when I was simply a shadow in the back of the Court. Maybe there are women who would fling themselves at your husband for want of title or power, Your Evening Radiance, but I assure you that I am not among them. Ask anyone who’s ever known me—I don’t scheme for power. Only for love. And I am not foolish enough to think that His Majesty would ever truly love me.”
Her words were dangerous, she knew, but she needed the Queen to know that this wasn’t something she’d asked for or initiated. Hatshepsut could easily have her subjected to all manner of unpleasantness should she truly wish it, though Nia could imagine no worse punishment than what she already endured at Iahotep’s hands. She had no wish to make a bad situation even worse.
Their conversation seemed almost distant, as if it were occurring outside of herself. Nia thought it was like listening to words through water—she could nearly understand what was being said, but the liquid medium distorted the words just to the point where they were no longer recognizable. Perhaps it was the throbbing of her own heart in her ears that altered their speech so, but whatever it was, she wished it would be over soon. She was not sure how much longer she could sit here and pretend everything was fine when it most certainly was not.
Does Sirdar H’Haikkadad know that you are sleeping with my husband?
That question brought Neithotep back to reality more than anything else ever possibly could have, turning to look at the Queen with a blank look that did nothing to conceal her shock. So she did know. But how? Had Zoser betrayed her secret, after all? Or did Hatshepsut possess her own spies?
“I… what… you…” She could hardly do more than stammer in disbelief, her ears going red while she fought to think of what was appropriate for her to say. Should she deny it? Was it merely an accusation being leveled at her or did Iahotep’s young wife actually have proof? She opened her mouth to clear herself of any blame, forcing the words past gritted teeth, “Your Evening Radiance, why would you…”
She just couldn’t do it. The look on Hatshepsut’s face made it clear that she would not accept a denial, and after all, it was the truth. What was the point in trying to hide it if she already knew? Closing her eyes and covering her face, Nia remained silent for a long, long moment, the shuddering of her breath betraying her discomfort at so blatantly being called out. How she’d discovered their affair didn’t matter, but what Neithotep did going forward certainly did. She’d have to handle this carefully. But how?
“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered in a broken apology, her voice trembling nearly as much as her breath. “He does not know. No one does.” Except Zoser, of course, but she wasn’t about to betray her confidante, not even to the Queen. Biting her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, her shoulders shook with the force of repressed emotion. How could she explain to Hatshepsut that her nocturnal trysts with her husband were through no choice of her own?
At last, her tears broke through, salt staining the fabric of her kalasiris as the water flowed between her fingers. “I did not want this, my Queen, I swear to you by the name of every god above,” she vowed fervently, finally daring to look at her through the haze of a face blotched from crying. “He summoned me for the first time shortly after the Sed festival, and I had no choice. I thought he would tire of me quickly, but that has not been the case. I am so sorry, Your Radiance, but I cannot refuse the call of a king, no matter how much I might wish I could.”
Biting her lip, she wrung her hands in supplication, red-streaked eyes desperately pleading for understanding. “Please, you must believe me. The Pharaoh’s attention is the last thing I’ve ever wanted. I was never more content than when I was simply a shadow in the back of the Court. Maybe there are women who would fling themselves at your husband for want of title or power, Your Evening Radiance, but I assure you that I am not among them. Ask anyone who’s ever known me—I don’t scheme for power. Only for love. And I am not foolish enough to think that His Majesty would ever truly love me.”
Her words were dangerous, she knew, but she needed the Queen to know that this wasn’t something she’d asked for or initiated. Hatshepsut could easily have her subjected to all manner of unpleasantness should she truly wish it, though Nia could imagine no worse punishment than what she already endured at Iahotep’s hands. She had no wish to make a bad situation even worse.
Hatshepsut had expected Neithotep to be shocked at her question. She tried to stammer a response and failed. The young Queen imagined the wheels turning in the noblewoman's head as she tried to decide whether to admit or deny it. This was not the reaction of a proud and confident mistress, one who had found her path to power and wasn't about to let it go even though the true heir to the throne disapproved.
What such a woman would not know was that while Iahotep was off at war, Hatshepsut could have her exiled from Egypt forever, She could torture her and destroy her beauty so that the Pharaoh wouldn't be able to stand the sight of her anymore. It was even possible that she could be executed. Hatshepsut was too kind to do any of that, but her mother was not, and she assumed that Isetheperu would be put in charge of the kingdom in Iahotep's absence. Her mother could be as cruel and ruthless as the Pharaoh and she would be livid if she knew that Iahotep was dishonoring her daughter by taking a noblewoman to her bed.
Neithotep started to ask why she would think such a thing. Hatshepsut had an answer ready, that she had sent a slave to watch the door to her husband's bedchamber. Yet before the question was finished, the woman simply crumpled, closing her eyes and covering her face as if she was ashamed. Was she or was she putting on an act to fool her Queen? Hatshepsut wished now that she had not been so straightforward about the issue. It wasn't in her sweet nature to put people in uncomfortable situations, but there was no help for it now. And it was important that she know the truth.
Neithotep admitted the affair by apologizing and confessing that nobody else knew about it. Hatshepsut saw her began to shake and then she burst into tears. No, she didn't think that she was faking her remorse. The petite Queen felt sorry for her and wished again that she had been gentler. She wanted to place a hand upon her shoulder to comfort her, but she didn't. The woman probably didn't want to be touched at all.
Hatshepsut had nothing to offer her to wipe her tears with either. She had sent her guards and attendants a short distance away to wait for her, so that no matter what transpired, they would not be able to gossip about it. Even slaves gossiped, though they could be punished severely for it and this sensitive subject didn't need to be spread through Cairo for the sakes of everyone involved.
So she had been right and Iahotep had demanded that Neithotep sleep with him. She'd had no choice but to comply with the wishes of her King. And he had not tired of her but still called for her regularly. By the way she spoke, Hatshepsut could tell that she did not enjoy her trysts with the Pharaoh and wished that they would end. Based on what she had heard about this woman and her fondness for common men, her instincts told her that Neithotep was telling the truth about not caring for the prestige and influence that Iahoteop could give her.
And no, Iahotep would never love her. He would never love Hatshepsut either. All he loved was power and control. Which was what he was exercising every time he sent for Neithotep. He had complete control over her and he knew it. He could do to her things that he could not do to his wife, for Hatshepsut was the reason he had become Pharaoh. Without her, he would be demoted to General again. He would have men to command, but would lose his authority over the entire kingdom.
When Neithotep stopped speaking, Hatshepsut didn't say anything for a few long moments, continuing to stroke Nefret's fur. The monkey looked from one woman to the other, as if she could sense the tension in the air. Tahira was alert as well, her tufted ears twitching and her long tail swinging back and forth. “I believe you,” the Queen finally said, reaching out and placing one hand upon Neithotep's. “The Pharaoh takes what he wants and doesn't care about the feelings of others. I must ask one more thing of you, though. I know of his penchant for violence. Has he hurt you?”
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Hatshepsut had expected Neithotep to be shocked at her question. She tried to stammer a response and failed. The young Queen imagined the wheels turning in the noblewoman's head as she tried to decide whether to admit or deny it. This was not the reaction of a proud and confident mistress, one who had found her path to power and wasn't about to let it go even though the true heir to the throne disapproved.
What such a woman would not know was that while Iahotep was off at war, Hatshepsut could have her exiled from Egypt forever, She could torture her and destroy her beauty so that the Pharaoh wouldn't be able to stand the sight of her anymore. It was even possible that she could be executed. Hatshepsut was too kind to do any of that, but her mother was not, and she assumed that Isetheperu would be put in charge of the kingdom in Iahotep's absence. Her mother could be as cruel and ruthless as the Pharaoh and she would be livid if she knew that Iahotep was dishonoring her daughter by taking a noblewoman to her bed.
Neithotep started to ask why she would think such a thing. Hatshepsut had an answer ready, that she had sent a slave to watch the door to her husband's bedchamber. Yet before the question was finished, the woman simply crumpled, closing her eyes and covering her face as if she was ashamed. Was she or was she putting on an act to fool her Queen? Hatshepsut wished now that she had not been so straightforward about the issue. It wasn't in her sweet nature to put people in uncomfortable situations, but there was no help for it now. And it was important that she know the truth.
Neithotep admitted the affair by apologizing and confessing that nobody else knew about it. Hatshepsut saw her began to shake and then she burst into tears. No, she didn't think that she was faking her remorse. The petite Queen felt sorry for her and wished again that she had been gentler. She wanted to place a hand upon her shoulder to comfort her, but she didn't. The woman probably didn't want to be touched at all.
Hatshepsut had nothing to offer her to wipe her tears with either. She had sent her guards and attendants a short distance away to wait for her, so that no matter what transpired, they would not be able to gossip about it. Even slaves gossiped, though they could be punished severely for it and this sensitive subject didn't need to be spread through Cairo for the sakes of everyone involved.
So she had been right and Iahotep had demanded that Neithotep sleep with him. She'd had no choice but to comply with the wishes of her King. And he had not tired of her but still called for her regularly. By the way she spoke, Hatshepsut could tell that she did not enjoy her trysts with the Pharaoh and wished that they would end. Based on what she had heard about this woman and her fondness for common men, her instincts told her that Neithotep was telling the truth about not caring for the prestige and influence that Iahoteop could give her.
And no, Iahotep would never love her. He would never love Hatshepsut either. All he loved was power and control. Which was what he was exercising every time he sent for Neithotep. He had complete control over her and he knew it. He could do to her things that he could not do to his wife, for Hatshepsut was the reason he had become Pharaoh. Without her, he would be demoted to General again. He would have men to command, but would lose his authority over the entire kingdom.
When Neithotep stopped speaking, Hatshepsut didn't say anything for a few long moments, continuing to stroke Nefret's fur. The monkey looked from one woman to the other, as if she could sense the tension in the air. Tahira was alert as well, her tufted ears twitching and her long tail swinging back and forth. “I believe you,” the Queen finally said, reaching out and placing one hand upon Neithotep's. “The Pharaoh takes what he wants and doesn't care about the feelings of others. I must ask one more thing of you, though. I know of his penchant for violence. Has he hurt you?”
Hatshepsut had expected Neithotep to be shocked at her question. She tried to stammer a response and failed. The young Queen imagined the wheels turning in the noblewoman's head as she tried to decide whether to admit or deny it. This was not the reaction of a proud and confident mistress, one who had found her path to power and wasn't about to let it go even though the true heir to the throne disapproved.
What such a woman would not know was that while Iahotep was off at war, Hatshepsut could have her exiled from Egypt forever, She could torture her and destroy her beauty so that the Pharaoh wouldn't be able to stand the sight of her anymore. It was even possible that she could be executed. Hatshepsut was too kind to do any of that, but her mother was not, and she assumed that Isetheperu would be put in charge of the kingdom in Iahotep's absence. Her mother could be as cruel and ruthless as the Pharaoh and she would be livid if she knew that Iahotep was dishonoring her daughter by taking a noblewoman to her bed.
Neithotep started to ask why she would think such a thing. Hatshepsut had an answer ready, that she had sent a slave to watch the door to her husband's bedchamber. Yet before the question was finished, the woman simply crumpled, closing her eyes and covering her face as if she was ashamed. Was she or was she putting on an act to fool her Queen? Hatshepsut wished now that she had not been so straightforward about the issue. It wasn't in her sweet nature to put people in uncomfortable situations, but there was no help for it now. And it was important that she know the truth.
Neithotep admitted the affair by apologizing and confessing that nobody else knew about it. Hatshepsut saw her began to shake and then she burst into tears. No, she didn't think that she was faking her remorse. The petite Queen felt sorry for her and wished again that she had been gentler. She wanted to place a hand upon her shoulder to comfort her, but she didn't. The woman probably didn't want to be touched at all.
Hatshepsut had nothing to offer her to wipe her tears with either. She had sent her guards and attendants a short distance away to wait for her, so that no matter what transpired, they would not be able to gossip about it. Even slaves gossiped, though they could be punished severely for it and this sensitive subject didn't need to be spread through Cairo for the sakes of everyone involved.
So she had been right and Iahotep had demanded that Neithotep sleep with him. She'd had no choice but to comply with the wishes of her King. And he had not tired of her but still called for her regularly. By the way she spoke, Hatshepsut could tell that she did not enjoy her trysts with the Pharaoh and wished that they would end. Based on what she had heard about this woman and her fondness for common men, her instincts told her that Neithotep was telling the truth about not caring for the prestige and influence that Iahoteop could give her.
And no, Iahotep would never love her. He would never love Hatshepsut either. All he loved was power and control. Which was what he was exercising every time he sent for Neithotep. He had complete control over her and he knew it. He could do to her things that he could not do to his wife, for Hatshepsut was the reason he had become Pharaoh. Without her, he would be demoted to General again. He would have men to command, but would lose his authority over the entire kingdom.
When Neithotep stopped speaking, Hatshepsut didn't say anything for a few long moments, continuing to stroke Nefret's fur. The monkey looked from one woman to the other, as if she could sense the tension in the air. Tahira was alert as well, her tufted ears twitching and her long tail swinging back and forth. “I believe you,” the Queen finally said, reaching out and placing one hand upon Neithotep's. “The Pharaoh takes what he wants and doesn't care about the feelings of others. I must ask one more thing of you, though. I know of his penchant for violence. Has he hurt you?”
The silence after her confession had Nia’s heart beating so fast and so hard that she thought it might break through her chest. Was the Queen angry? Did she believe her that this affair was not consensual? Would she have her thrown from the Palace? Tortured? Worse?
All manner of horrid possibilities drifted through the young noblewoman’s mind, clutching tight to the fabric of her kalasiris while Hatshepsut’s silence continued. Nia didn’t even dare to look at the Queen’s face, afraid of what she might find there. Of all the choices and regrettable mistakes she’d made in her life, attending the Sed festival was perhaps the one she rued the most. Had she never gone out that night, had she stayed away from the Palace as she usually did, perhaps the Pharaoh might never have taken particular note of her. Perhaps she would still be the shadow in the back of the Court that she told the Queen she’d been so happy to remain before.
But even as she had the thought, she knew it wasn’t true. If she hadn’t attended that festival, he would have noticed her some other day, some other time. Nia’s beauty could not be denied, and her family was a prominent one. Iahotep would have what he wanted, and his desire for her was never in question. Their unholy union had the distinct smell of fate written all over it, and it was a fate she couldn’t run from, no matter how much she wanted to.
When Hatshepsut finally spoke, they were not words of remonstration, but rather ones of understanding. Nia sagged with immeasurable relief, half-tempted to throw herself at the Queen’s feet. The gentle hand covering hers sparked more tears in the older woman’s eyes, reaching her free hand up to dash them away. Of all the nightmares she’d had about this exact conversation, this was never the outcome she’d expected.
Has he hurt you?
It was all she could do not to laugh at that, settling only for a bitter smile. Had he hurt her? It was hard to imagine all the ways he hadn’t hurt her, though she knew the Pharaoh’s imagination was twisted and vast. She was certain he could invent many more forms of torture, should he wish it, and ever since that night she’d struck him, she’d been careful not to do anything that might further spark his ire. The more amenable she was to his demands, the softer her voice, the sweeter her words, the less likely he was to raise his hand against her. That didn’t mean it didn’t happen, but at the least, it was less severe. At this point, it was all she could really hope for.
Rather than answer verbally, Nia simply dropped the strap of her kalasiris that looped over her shoulder, turning so that the Queen might see the lash marks that marred the otherwise supple skin of her back. She kept them uncovered only long enough for the young monarch to see before she covered herself again and turned back to face Hatshepsut.
“He is not a kind lover, Your Evening Radiance,” she whispered, lest the Pharaoh have ears that could hear through the walls themselves. Undoubtedly, this was a fact Hatshepsut knew well herself, but perhaps he maintained a gentler hand for the woman he was married to. Somehow, she doubted it. “Violence and sex seem to walk hand-in-hand in your husband’s mind. There has never been a night that he hasn’t hurt me.”
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The silence after her confession had Nia’s heart beating so fast and so hard that she thought it might break through her chest. Was the Queen angry? Did she believe her that this affair was not consensual? Would she have her thrown from the Palace? Tortured? Worse?
All manner of horrid possibilities drifted through the young noblewoman’s mind, clutching tight to the fabric of her kalasiris while Hatshepsut’s silence continued. Nia didn’t even dare to look at the Queen’s face, afraid of what she might find there. Of all the choices and regrettable mistakes she’d made in her life, attending the Sed festival was perhaps the one she rued the most. Had she never gone out that night, had she stayed away from the Palace as she usually did, perhaps the Pharaoh might never have taken particular note of her. Perhaps she would still be the shadow in the back of the Court that she told the Queen she’d been so happy to remain before.
But even as she had the thought, she knew it wasn’t true. If she hadn’t attended that festival, he would have noticed her some other day, some other time. Nia’s beauty could not be denied, and her family was a prominent one. Iahotep would have what he wanted, and his desire for her was never in question. Their unholy union had the distinct smell of fate written all over it, and it was a fate she couldn’t run from, no matter how much she wanted to.
When Hatshepsut finally spoke, they were not words of remonstration, but rather ones of understanding. Nia sagged with immeasurable relief, half-tempted to throw herself at the Queen’s feet. The gentle hand covering hers sparked more tears in the older woman’s eyes, reaching her free hand up to dash them away. Of all the nightmares she’d had about this exact conversation, this was never the outcome she’d expected.
Has he hurt you?
It was all she could do not to laugh at that, settling only for a bitter smile. Had he hurt her? It was hard to imagine all the ways he hadn’t hurt her, though she knew the Pharaoh’s imagination was twisted and vast. She was certain he could invent many more forms of torture, should he wish it, and ever since that night she’d struck him, she’d been careful not to do anything that might further spark his ire. The more amenable she was to his demands, the softer her voice, the sweeter her words, the less likely he was to raise his hand against her. That didn’t mean it didn’t happen, but at the least, it was less severe. At this point, it was all she could really hope for.
Rather than answer verbally, Nia simply dropped the strap of her kalasiris that looped over her shoulder, turning so that the Queen might see the lash marks that marred the otherwise supple skin of her back. She kept them uncovered only long enough for the young monarch to see before she covered herself again and turned back to face Hatshepsut.
“He is not a kind lover, Your Evening Radiance,” she whispered, lest the Pharaoh have ears that could hear through the walls themselves. Undoubtedly, this was a fact Hatshepsut knew well herself, but perhaps he maintained a gentler hand for the woman he was married to. Somehow, she doubted it. “Violence and sex seem to walk hand-in-hand in your husband’s mind. There has never been a night that he hasn’t hurt me.”
The silence after her confession had Nia’s heart beating so fast and so hard that she thought it might break through her chest. Was the Queen angry? Did she believe her that this affair was not consensual? Would she have her thrown from the Palace? Tortured? Worse?
All manner of horrid possibilities drifted through the young noblewoman’s mind, clutching tight to the fabric of her kalasiris while Hatshepsut’s silence continued. Nia didn’t even dare to look at the Queen’s face, afraid of what she might find there. Of all the choices and regrettable mistakes she’d made in her life, attending the Sed festival was perhaps the one she rued the most. Had she never gone out that night, had she stayed away from the Palace as she usually did, perhaps the Pharaoh might never have taken particular note of her. Perhaps she would still be the shadow in the back of the Court that she told the Queen she’d been so happy to remain before.
But even as she had the thought, she knew it wasn’t true. If she hadn’t attended that festival, he would have noticed her some other day, some other time. Nia’s beauty could not be denied, and her family was a prominent one. Iahotep would have what he wanted, and his desire for her was never in question. Their unholy union had the distinct smell of fate written all over it, and it was a fate she couldn’t run from, no matter how much she wanted to.
When Hatshepsut finally spoke, they were not words of remonstration, but rather ones of understanding. Nia sagged with immeasurable relief, half-tempted to throw herself at the Queen’s feet. The gentle hand covering hers sparked more tears in the older woman’s eyes, reaching her free hand up to dash them away. Of all the nightmares she’d had about this exact conversation, this was never the outcome she’d expected.
Has he hurt you?
It was all she could do not to laugh at that, settling only for a bitter smile. Had he hurt her? It was hard to imagine all the ways he hadn’t hurt her, though she knew the Pharaoh’s imagination was twisted and vast. She was certain he could invent many more forms of torture, should he wish it, and ever since that night she’d struck him, she’d been careful not to do anything that might further spark his ire. The more amenable she was to his demands, the softer her voice, the sweeter her words, the less likely he was to raise his hand against her. That didn’t mean it didn’t happen, but at the least, it was less severe. At this point, it was all she could really hope for.
Rather than answer verbally, Nia simply dropped the strap of her kalasiris that looped over her shoulder, turning so that the Queen might see the lash marks that marred the otherwise supple skin of her back. She kept them uncovered only long enough for the young monarch to see before she covered herself again and turned back to face Hatshepsut.
“He is not a kind lover, Your Evening Radiance,” she whispered, lest the Pharaoh have ears that could hear through the walls themselves. Undoubtedly, this was a fact Hatshepsut knew well herself, but perhaps he maintained a gentler hand for the woman he was married to. Somehow, she doubted it. “Violence and sex seem to walk hand-in-hand in your husband’s mind. There has never been a night that he hasn’t hurt me.”
Neithotep didn’t answer her question. Instead, she slipped one of the straps of her kalisaris over her shoulder. Hatshepsut had learned to control her emotions, taught from the cradle that a Queen should guard her feelings and always appear gracious, but she could not stop the horrified gasp that escaped her lips at the sight of the lash marks upon the other woman’s back. How dare Iahotep flog a noblewoman to satisfy his sadistic lust! Most likely the scars would fully heal; her husband would not want to permanently mar Neithotep’s beauty. But the emotional scars would be eternal and eventually he would break her, if he had not done so already.
The royal guards glanced over at her and she shook her head, indicating that she was fine and didn’t need their assistance. By that time, Neithotep’s kalisaris was back in place and the Queen knew that the guards had not seen the welts marring her skin. Her husband’s unwilling mistress could probably see the fury and shock in her dark eyes when she turned back to face her. Hatshepsut didn’t even try to hide it. She wanted the older woman to know that she sympathized with her and that her anger was directed at Iahotep and not at her.
Neithotep had no choice but to submit to him. She was obligated to obey the Pharaoh’s wishes. It was likely that she had done nothing to offend him, that he flogged her simply because he wanted to watch her suffer. Hatshepsut had often seen the cruel gleam in his eyes when he looked at her, his wife. He had not struck her since the day after their wedding, but she felt that he was barely holding himself back, probably because he didn’t want to harm his child. Was he taking his frustration with her out on his mistresses? She was sure that this woman was only one of many. Was she responsible for his brutality? Had she done this to Neithotep?
“I’m sorry,” she said as if it was indeed her fault. “I have suspected that he had sadistic tendencies since the day we were wed.” She almost mentioned that he had smacked her once, but decided not to. Being slapped was tame compared to what had been done to Neithotep. Somehow this had to stop, but what could she do? What would happen if she brought it before the Council, accusing Iahotep of abusing his privileges as Pharaoh by forcing noblewomen to share his bed and beating them to within an inch of their lives? Would they care? Or would they think she was jealous and believe that he had the right to do whatever he desired with his subjects?
It was difficult to tell what their reaction would be. Her father had taken a mistress too, presumably against her will … Neithotep’s own mother. Hatshepsut doubted that he had abused her. She remembered him as a kind man, while Iahotep was already known for his ruthlessness. It was, she decided, unlikely that she was in any way to blame. The women her husband had fancied when he had been a mere commoner had likely left him after a single night and he was now using his newfound power to mistreat anyone who caught his eye. Maybe he had planned this all along.
She could tell her mother. As a Council member herself, she would be taken more seriously than a pregnant sixteen-year-old under the influence of ever-changing and unpredictable hormones. Isetheperu was extremely persuasive. It might be impossible to take his position from him now, but if Hatshepsut gave birth to a healthy son, Iahotep could be dethroned in favor of his child. The succession would still be secure. She could marry Osorsen and they could both be the boy king’s regents until he came of age.
That was the best solution she could think of at the moment. However, something needed to be done for Neithotep now. She did not deserve to go through six more months of torture. “I will stop this,” the Queen vowed. “But I may need assistance. Do you mind if I tell your story to those who will be able to help me if I promise not to mention your name?”
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Neithotep didn’t answer her question. Instead, she slipped one of the straps of her kalisaris over her shoulder. Hatshepsut had learned to control her emotions, taught from the cradle that a Queen should guard her feelings and always appear gracious, but she could not stop the horrified gasp that escaped her lips at the sight of the lash marks upon the other woman’s back. How dare Iahotep flog a noblewoman to satisfy his sadistic lust! Most likely the scars would fully heal; her husband would not want to permanently mar Neithotep’s beauty. But the emotional scars would be eternal and eventually he would break her, if he had not done so already.
The royal guards glanced over at her and she shook her head, indicating that she was fine and didn’t need their assistance. By that time, Neithotep’s kalisaris was back in place and the Queen knew that the guards had not seen the welts marring her skin. Her husband’s unwilling mistress could probably see the fury and shock in her dark eyes when she turned back to face her. Hatshepsut didn’t even try to hide it. She wanted the older woman to know that she sympathized with her and that her anger was directed at Iahotep and not at her.
Neithotep had no choice but to submit to him. She was obligated to obey the Pharaoh’s wishes. It was likely that she had done nothing to offend him, that he flogged her simply because he wanted to watch her suffer. Hatshepsut had often seen the cruel gleam in his eyes when he looked at her, his wife. He had not struck her since the day after their wedding, but she felt that he was barely holding himself back, probably because he didn’t want to harm his child. Was he taking his frustration with her out on his mistresses? She was sure that this woman was only one of many. Was she responsible for his brutality? Had she done this to Neithotep?
“I’m sorry,” she said as if it was indeed her fault. “I have suspected that he had sadistic tendencies since the day we were wed.” She almost mentioned that he had smacked her once, but decided not to. Being slapped was tame compared to what had been done to Neithotep. Somehow this had to stop, but what could she do? What would happen if she brought it before the Council, accusing Iahotep of abusing his privileges as Pharaoh by forcing noblewomen to share his bed and beating them to within an inch of their lives? Would they care? Or would they think she was jealous and believe that he had the right to do whatever he desired with his subjects?
It was difficult to tell what their reaction would be. Her father had taken a mistress too, presumably against her will … Neithotep’s own mother. Hatshepsut doubted that he had abused her. She remembered him as a kind man, while Iahotep was already known for his ruthlessness. It was, she decided, unlikely that she was in any way to blame. The women her husband had fancied when he had been a mere commoner had likely left him after a single night and he was now using his newfound power to mistreat anyone who caught his eye. Maybe he had planned this all along.
She could tell her mother. As a Council member herself, she would be taken more seriously than a pregnant sixteen-year-old under the influence of ever-changing and unpredictable hormones. Isetheperu was extremely persuasive. It might be impossible to take his position from him now, but if Hatshepsut gave birth to a healthy son, Iahotep could be dethroned in favor of his child. The succession would still be secure. She could marry Osorsen and they could both be the boy king’s regents until he came of age.
That was the best solution she could think of at the moment. However, something needed to be done for Neithotep now. She did not deserve to go through six more months of torture. “I will stop this,” the Queen vowed. “But I may need assistance. Do you mind if I tell your story to those who will be able to help me if I promise not to mention your name?”
Neithotep didn’t answer her question. Instead, she slipped one of the straps of her kalisaris over her shoulder. Hatshepsut had learned to control her emotions, taught from the cradle that a Queen should guard her feelings and always appear gracious, but she could not stop the horrified gasp that escaped her lips at the sight of the lash marks upon the other woman’s back. How dare Iahotep flog a noblewoman to satisfy his sadistic lust! Most likely the scars would fully heal; her husband would not want to permanently mar Neithotep’s beauty. But the emotional scars would be eternal and eventually he would break her, if he had not done so already.
The royal guards glanced over at her and she shook her head, indicating that she was fine and didn’t need their assistance. By that time, Neithotep’s kalisaris was back in place and the Queen knew that the guards had not seen the welts marring her skin. Her husband’s unwilling mistress could probably see the fury and shock in her dark eyes when she turned back to face her. Hatshepsut didn’t even try to hide it. She wanted the older woman to know that she sympathized with her and that her anger was directed at Iahotep and not at her.
Neithotep had no choice but to submit to him. She was obligated to obey the Pharaoh’s wishes. It was likely that she had done nothing to offend him, that he flogged her simply because he wanted to watch her suffer. Hatshepsut had often seen the cruel gleam in his eyes when he looked at her, his wife. He had not struck her since the day after their wedding, but she felt that he was barely holding himself back, probably because he didn’t want to harm his child. Was he taking his frustration with her out on his mistresses? She was sure that this woman was only one of many. Was she responsible for his brutality? Had she done this to Neithotep?
“I’m sorry,” she said as if it was indeed her fault. “I have suspected that he had sadistic tendencies since the day we were wed.” She almost mentioned that he had smacked her once, but decided not to. Being slapped was tame compared to what had been done to Neithotep. Somehow this had to stop, but what could she do? What would happen if she brought it before the Council, accusing Iahotep of abusing his privileges as Pharaoh by forcing noblewomen to share his bed and beating them to within an inch of their lives? Would they care? Or would they think she was jealous and believe that he had the right to do whatever he desired with his subjects?
It was difficult to tell what their reaction would be. Her father had taken a mistress too, presumably against her will … Neithotep’s own mother. Hatshepsut doubted that he had abused her. She remembered him as a kind man, while Iahotep was already known for his ruthlessness. It was, she decided, unlikely that she was in any way to blame. The women her husband had fancied when he had been a mere commoner had likely left him after a single night and he was now using his newfound power to mistreat anyone who caught his eye. Maybe he had planned this all along.
She could tell her mother. As a Council member herself, she would be taken more seriously than a pregnant sixteen-year-old under the influence of ever-changing and unpredictable hormones. Isetheperu was extremely persuasive. It might be impossible to take his position from him now, but if Hatshepsut gave birth to a healthy son, Iahotep could be dethroned in favor of his child. The succession would still be secure. She could marry Osorsen and they could both be the boy king’s regents until he came of age.
That was the best solution she could think of at the moment. However, something needed to be done for Neithotep now. She did not deserve to go through six more months of torture. “I will stop this,” the Queen vowed. “But I may need assistance. Do you mind if I tell your story to those who will be able to help me if I promise not to mention your name?”
I have suspected that he had sadistic tendencies since the day we were wed.
Hatshepsut’s use of the word ‘suspected’ made Nia think that perhaps Iahotep hadn’t hurt his wife in the same way he hurt her. Good. At least he had some regard for the woman who carried his child, but would that remain the case after she gave birth? If she had a boy, what was to stop him from spreading his perversions to her, if not something even more drastic?
There was a small part of her that resented the young Queen, that Nia should so bear the brunt of his sharper… affections, and not her. What had she done to deserve such abuse while his own wife remained unmarked? Was it simply that she had gotten pregnant so early in their marriage? Was it because she was the Queen? Or did she simply not stir his ire in the same way Nia did?
As soon as she had such thoughts, the young lady of Hei Sheifa quickly discarded them. It didn’t matter why, she was just happy Hatshepsut didn’t have to suffer the way she did. The less pain he put into the world, the better. It wasn’t some twisted competition.
I will stop this.
Nia wished she could believe that, she really did. Hatshepsut was the Queen, after all; she was not powerless. But Iahotep was a madman, a psychopath who would not be easily cowed. No matter what they were able to do to him, what would stop him from simply coming after her in the night?
At the Queen’s inquiry on whether or not she could share her revelations with others, Neithotep froze, her breath halting in her lungs. Who could Hatshepsut tell that could really help her? Who held more power than the Pharaoh himself? While she desperately longed for this to stop, it filled her with fear to think of what Iahotep would do if someone tried to thwart him. And if her story was told and they couldn’t stop him… what then? Just because her name was left out didn’t mean he wouldn’t know she was the one who talked. How many other mistresses did he have? And how many of them would dare to be so defiant?
Hesitant, she started to voice these concerns, her eyes anywhere but on the Queen’s. Her voice shook nearly as much as her hands, wringing them together to try to bring their trembling under control. “Your Evening Radiance, I… I appreciate your help, but I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “Even if you don’t use my name, I worry he would know who told, and he would come after me because of it. Not to mention, I wouldn’t put it past him to simply punish us all if he couldn’t figure out who it was. I do not know how many other mistresses he keeps, nor how similar their stories are to mine. All I know is he does not suffer disobedience… lightly.”
Finally, Nia dared to look up, though her gaze was guarded. “If I gave you permission, what manner of protection would I have? What… what could be done against him?”
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I have suspected that he had sadistic tendencies since the day we were wed.
Hatshepsut’s use of the word ‘suspected’ made Nia think that perhaps Iahotep hadn’t hurt his wife in the same way he hurt her. Good. At least he had some regard for the woman who carried his child, but would that remain the case after she gave birth? If she had a boy, what was to stop him from spreading his perversions to her, if not something even more drastic?
There was a small part of her that resented the young Queen, that Nia should so bear the brunt of his sharper… affections, and not her. What had she done to deserve such abuse while his own wife remained unmarked? Was it simply that she had gotten pregnant so early in their marriage? Was it because she was the Queen? Or did she simply not stir his ire in the same way Nia did?
As soon as she had such thoughts, the young lady of Hei Sheifa quickly discarded them. It didn’t matter why, she was just happy Hatshepsut didn’t have to suffer the way she did. The less pain he put into the world, the better. It wasn’t some twisted competition.
I will stop this.
Nia wished she could believe that, she really did. Hatshepsut was the Queen, after all; she was not powerless. But Iahotep was a madman, a psychopath who would not be easily cowed. No matter what they were able to do to him, what would stop him from simply coming after her in the night?
At the Queen’s inquiry on whether or not she could share her revelations with others, Neithotep froze, her breath halting in her lungs. Who could Hatshepsut tell that could really help her? Who held more power than the Pharaoh himself? While she desperately longed for this to stop, it filled her with fear to think of what Iahotep would do if someone tried to thwart him. And if her story was told and they couldn’t stop him… what then? Just because her name was left out didn’t mean he wouldn’t know she was the one who talked. How many other mistresses did he have? And how many of them would dare to be so defiant?
Hesitant, she started to voice these concerns, her eyes anywhere but on the Queen’s. Her voice shook nearly as much as her hands, wringing them together to try to bring their trembling under control. “Your Evening Radiance, I… I appreciate your help, but I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “Even if you don’t use my name, I worry he would know who told, and he would come after me because of it. Not to mention, I wouldn’t put it past him to simply punish us all if he couldn’t figure out who it was. I do not know how many other mistresses he keeps, nor how similar their stories are to mine. All I know is he does not suffer disobedience… lightly.”
Finally, Nia dared to look up, though her gaze was guarded. “If I gave you permission, what manner of protection would I have? What… what could be done against him?”
I have suspected that he had sadistic tendencies since the day we were wed.
Hatshepsut’s use of the word ‘suspected’ made Nia think that perhaps Iahotep hadn’t hurt his wife in the same way he hurt her. Good. At least he had some regard for the woman who carried his child, but would that remain the case after she gave birth? If she had a boy, what was to stop him from spreading his perversions to her, if not something even more drastic?
There was a small part of her that resented the young Queen, that Nia should so bear the brunt of his sharper… affections, and not her. What had she done to deserve such abuse while his own wife remained unmarked? Was it simply that she had gotten pregnant so early in their marriage? Was it because she was the Queen? Or did she simply not stir his ire in the same way Nia did?
As soon as she had such thoughts, the young lady of Hei Sheifa quickly discarded them. It didn’t matter why, she was just happy Hatshepsut didn’t have to suffer the way she did. The less pain he put into the world, the better. It wasn’t some twisted competition.
I will stop this.
Nia wished she could believe that, she really did. Hatshepsut was the Queen, after all; she was not powerless. But Iahotep was a madman, a psychopath who would not be easily cowed. No matter what they were able to do to him, what would stop him from simply coming after her in the night?
At the Queen’s inquiry on whether or not she could share her revelations with others, Neithotep froze, her breath halting in her lungs. Who could Hatshepsut tell that could really help her? Who held more power than the Pharaoh himself? While she desperately longed for this to stop, it filled her with fear to think of what Iahotep would do if someone tried to thwart him. And if her story was told and they couldn’t stop him… what then? Just because her name was left out didn’t mean he wouldn’t know she was the one who talked. How many other mistresses did he have? And how many of them would dare to be so defiant?
Hesitant, she started to voice these concerns, her eyes anywhere but on the Queen’s. Her voice shook nearly as much as her hands, wringing them together to try to bring their trembling under control. “Your Evening Radiance, I… I appreciate your help, but I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “Even if you don’t use my name, I worry he would know who told, and he would come after me because of it. Not to mention, I wouldn’t put it past him to simply punish us all if he couldn’t figure out who it was. I do not know how many other mistresses he keeps, nor how similar their stories are to mine. All I know is he does not suffer disobedience… lightly.”
Finally, Nia dared to look up, though her gaze was guarded. “If I gave you permission, what manner of protection would I have? What… what could be done against him?”
If she had been unmarried, this situation would have been easy to deal with. Any man who abused a woman could be imprisoned or even executed. No woman had approached her but her mother had probably dealt with the problem many times. Hatshepsut was so young that nobody would bring such serious accusations before her. How could a young girl understand the brutality that some women suffered? Now she was acutely aware of the violent nature of her own husband. Before she had been wed, she had been so blissfully naive. Osorsen treated her like she was the most important person in the world to him. She had never imagined that men could be horribly cruel to their wives and lovers.
The dilemma lay with the perpetrator's identity. If Iahotep had not been the Pharaoh, he could have been easily punished. He did not have absolute authority; the council had a large say in how the kingdom was run, as well as some hings he could and could not do. They could depose him, but the more she thought about it, the less certain she was that they would choose to do anything at all against his indiscretions. Maybe they abused their wives and mistresses too. Neithotep’s plight could not be brought before them.
And her mother? It was best not to let her know either. Isetheperu had supported the council’s decision to proclaim Iahotep as Pharaoh; it might have been her own idea. If he knew how sadistic he was, she would not have entrusted him with her own precious daughter. Or perhaps she had believed that being married to him would toughen Hatshepsut? Maybe they were working together to make her as ruthless as they were.
Zoser might be able to help. She knew that he would never breathe a word of anything she told him. He was one of the few people she trusted implicitly. Though he didn’t have as much power as the council or her mother, he gave excellent advice and she had never presented him with a problem he had not been able to solve. There was a very good chance that he could come up with a solution that would keep Neithotep away from Iahotep.
Hatshepsut’s heart felt like it was breaking when she saw how the noblewoman’s hands and voice shook. She made several good points that the young queen had not thought of. It was definitely possible that Iahotep would know who had spoke against him, and if not, beat every woman who had ever slept with him to an inch of her life. He could kill them all too, if he was angry enough. And she knew from experience how he dealt with disobedience.
“I’m not certain yet. I will have to think upon it. For now, I shall tell no one. If I think someone can help you, I will ask you before I divulge what has happened to you. I can offer you some immediate protection if you become one of my attendants. I don’t believe he will summon you while you are waiting upon me. He won't want to arouse my suspicions. He will know that I am the one person that everyone will listen to if accusations are made against him. I can even keep you with me most nights. Unfortunately, you will have to live under the same roof as he does. It's your choice. I will not think ill of you if you turn my offer down."
Hatshepsut paused for a moment, thinking. “Have you considered telling Sirdar H’Haikkadad? As the head of his Hei, he has power and I doubt that he will be pleased that his betrothed is the mistress of the Pharaoh.” She would have suggested letting Neithotep’s mother know too, but considering that her own father had taken Iaheru to his bed ... willingly or not ... she decided that it would be best not to bring her up. Women had little influence, and the information would probably only upset her.
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If she had been unmarried, this situation would have been easy to deal with. Any man who abused a woman could be imprisoned or even executed. No woman had approached her but her mother had probably dealt with the problem many times. Hatshepsut was so young that nobody would bring such serious accusations before her. How could a young girl understand the brutality that some women suffered? Now she was acutely aware of the violent nature of her own husband. Before she had been wed, she had been so blissfully naive. Osorsen treated her like she was the most important person in the world to him. She had never imagined that men could be horribly cruel to their wives and lovers.
The dilemma lay with the perpetrator's identity. If Iahotep had not been the Pharaoh, he could have been easily punished. He did not have absolute authority; the council had a large say in how the kingdom was run, as well as some hings he could and could not do. They could depose him, but the more she thought about it, the less certain she was that they would choose to do anything at all against his indiscretions. Maybe they abused their wives and mistresses too. Neithotep’s plight could not be brought before them.
And her mother? It was best not to let her know either. Isetheperu had supported the council’s decision to proclaim Iahotep as Pharaoh; it might have been her own idea. If he knew how sadistic he was, she would not have entrusted him with her own precious daughter. Or perhaps she had believed that being married to him would toughen Hatshepsut? Maybe they were working together to make her as ruthless as they were.
Zoser might be able to help. She knew that he would never breathe a word of anything she told him. He was one of the few people she trusted implicitly. Though he didn’t have as much power as the council or her mother, he gave excellent advice and she had never presented him with a problem he had not been able to solve. There was a very good chance that he could come up with a solution that would keep Neithotep away from Iahotep.
Hatshepsut’s heart felt like it was breaking when she saw how the noblewoman’s hands and voice shook. She made several good points that the young queen had not thought of. It was definitely possible that Iahotep would know who had spoke against him, and if not, beat every woman who had ever slept with him to an inch of her life. He could kill them all too, if he was angry enough. And she knew from experience how he dealt with disobedience.
“I’m not certain yet. I will have to think upon it. For now, I shall tell no one. If I think someone can help you, I will ask you before I divulge what has happened to you. I can offer you some immediate protection if you become one of my attendants. I don’t believe he will summon you while you are waiting upon me. He won't want to arouse my suspicions. He will know that I am the one person that everyone will listen to if accusations are made against him. I can even keep you with me most nights. Unfortunately, you will have to live under the same roof as he does. It's your choice. I will not think ill of you if you turn my offer down."
Hatshepsut paused for a moment, thinking. “Have you considered telling Sirdar H’Haikkadad? As the head of his Hei, he has power and I doubt that he will be pleased that his betrothed is the mistress of the Pharaoh.” She would have suggested letting Neithotep’s mother know too, but considering that her own father had taken Iaheru to his bed ... willingly or not ... she decided that it would be best not to bring her up. Women had little influence, and the information would probably only upset her.
If she had been unmarried, this situation would have been easy to deal with. Any man who abused a woman could be imprisoned or even executed. No woman had approached her but her mother had probably dealt with the problem many times. Hatshepsut was so young that nobody would bring such serious accusations before her. How could a young girl understand the brutality that some women suffered? Now she was acutely aware of the violent nature of her own husband. Before she had been wed, she had been so blissfully naive. Osorsen treated her like she was the most important person in the world to him. She had never imagined that men could be horribly cruel to their wives and lovers.
The dilemma lay with the perpetrator's identity. If Iahotep had not been the Pharaoh, he could have been easily punished. He did not have absolute authority; the council had a large say in how the kingdom was run, as well as some hings he could and could not do. They could depose him, but the more she thought about it, the less certain she was that they would choose to do anything at all against his indiscretions. Maybe they abused their wives and mistresses too. Neithotep’s plight could not be brought before them.
And her mother? It was best not to let her know either. Isetheperu had supported the council’s decision to proclaim Iahotep as Pharaoh; it might have been her own idea. If he knew how sadistic he was, she would not have entrusted him with her own precious daughter. Or perhaps she had believed that being married to him would toughen Hatshepsut? Maybe they were working together to make her as ruthless as they were.
Zoser might be able to help. She knew that he would never breathe a word of anything she told him. He was one of the few people she trusted implicitly. Though he didn’t have as much power as the council or her mother, he gave excellent advice and she had never presented him with a problem he had not been able to solve. There was a very good chance that he could come up with a solution that would keep Neithotep away from Iahotep.
Hatshepsut’s heart felt like it was breaking when she saw how the noblewoman’s hands and voice shook. She made several good points that the young queen had not thought of. It was definitely possible that Iahotep would know who had spoke against him, and if not, beat every woman who had ever slept with him to an inch of her life. He could kill them all too, if he was angry enough. And she knew from experience how he dealt with disobedience.
“I’m not certain yet. I will have to think upon it. For now, I shall tell no one. If I think someone can help you, I will ask you before I divulge what has happened to you. I can offer you some immediate protection if you become one of my attendants. I don’t believe he will summon you while you are waiting upon me. He won't want to arouse my suspicions. He will know that I am the one person that everyone will listen to if accusations are made against him. I can even keep you with me most nights. Unfortunately, you will have to live under the same roof as he does. It's your choice. I will not think ill of you if you turn my offer down."
Hatshepsut paused for a moment, thinking. “Have you considered telling Sirdar H’Haikkadad? As the head of his Hei, he has power and I doubt that he will be pleased that his betrothed is the mistress of the Pharaoh.” She would have suggested letting Neithotep’s mother know too, but considering that her own father had taken Iaheru to his bed ... willingly or not ... she decided that it would be best not to bring her up. Women had little influence, and the information would probably only upset her.
Nia offered a tremulous but grateful smile when Hatshepsut swore she would tell no one without asking her first. If Iahotep knew his wife was aware of their ‘affair,’ gods, but she could only imagine the rage that would ensue. And then if Hatshepsut went on to tell anyone else… the young noblewoman shuddered at the thought.
“Your offer is very generous, Your Evening Radiance, but I shall have to think on it,” was her quiet response, her thoughts a tumult of pros and cons. As the Queen said herself, she would have to live under the same roof as her tormentor, and despite Hatshepsut’s reassurances that she could protect her, keep her away from him at night, Nia was not so convinced. There was little she would put past the Pharaoh, and if she was right there for the taking…
On the other hand, she was the Queen. If anyone could do anything to help Nia, it would be her or her mother. Would Iahotep be so bold to summon her from right under his wife’s nose? Would it deter him or simply contribute to his power trip? Gods only knew.
Besides all of that, there was the practicality of becoming the Queen’s attendant. Neithotep H’Sheifa was a creature who’d rarely worked a day in her life, waited on daily by slaves and servants of her own. How well would she really be suited to care for someone else, and the Queen at that? Free-spirited and adventurous she was, but the mischievous noblewoman was a woman who needed someone to look after her, not the other way around.
This was far too large of a decision to be made on the spot, she knew. It was a hardly a decision she could make on her own, either—it would need to be discussed with her parents before she could give a firm yes or no. As much as she bemoaned the fact, she could not make such big life changes on a whim, not while she still lived at the mercy of her father.
“I… I will talk to my parents and see what they think,” Nia told the Queen, hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. Iaheru had once been retainer to Hatshepsut’s own mother, and if there was anyone who could possibly understand the situation she lingered in… Yes, no matter how distasteful she may find the idea, she had to talk to her mother. Hopefully, she would know what to do. “I will give you an answer within the week, Your Evening Radiance, regardless of what it is.” Another smile that was far too sad for such an expression tilted her lips. “In the meantime, thank you for at least trying to help me. I’ve had literal nightmares about this exact conversation, and I can tell you now that not one of them went quite like this.”
At the mention of Sirdar H’Haikkadad, she stiffened almost imperceptibly. No, she did not want to involve Narmer in this. Nia was doing everything she could to get out of the arrangements her parents wanted so badly and to confide in him would only pull him further into a life she wanted to push him away from. “My betrothal to Lord Narmer is only tentative as of now, Your Evening Radiance,” she replied politely, dropping her gaze back to the restlessly shifting hands in her lap. “I… I did not wish to involve him in something so potentially dangerous like this, especially while everything remains so uncertain. If things become more finalized, then… perhaps.”
Glancing up at the quickly setting sun, Nia turned to her unexpected companion with a soft sigh. “I fear I must get back home before too long. My mother threatened me within an inch of my life if I didn’t show up for supper tonight.” Inclining her head respectfully, she added, “With your leave, of course, my Queen.”
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Nia offered a tremulous but grateful smile when Hatshepsut swore she would tell no one without asking her first. If Iahotep knew his wife was aware of their ‘affair,’ gods, but she could only imagine the rage that would ensue. And then if Hatshepsut went on to tell anyone else… the young noblewoman shuddered at the thought.
“Your offer is very generous, Your Evening Radiance, but I shall have to think on it,” was her quiet response, her thoughts a tumult of pros and cons. As the Queen said herself, she would have to live under the same roof as her tormentor, and despite Hatshepsut’s reassurances that she could protect her, keep her away from him at night, Nia was not so convinced. There was little she would put past the Pharaoh, and if she was right there for the taking…
On the other hand, she was the Queen. If anyone could do anything to help Nia, it would be her or her mother. Would Iahotep be so bold to summon her from right under his wife’s nose? Would it deter him or simply contribute to his power trip? Gods only knew.
Besides all of that, there was the practicality of becoming the Queen’s attendant. Neithotep H’Sheifa was a creature who’d rarely worked a day in her life, waited on daily by slaves and servants of her own. How well would she really be suited to care for someone else, and the Queen at that? Free-spirited and adventurous she was, but the mischievous noblewoman was a woman who needed someone to look after her, not the other way around.
This was far too large of a decision to be made on the spot, she knew. It was a hardly a decision she could make on her own, either—it would need to be discussed with her parents before she could give a firm yes or no. As much as she bemoaned the fact, she could not make such big life changes on a whim, not while she still lived at the mercy of her father.
“I… I will talk to my parents and see what they think,” Nia told the Queen, hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. Iaheru had once been retainer to Hatshepsut’s own mother, and if there was anyone who could possibly understand the situation she lingered in… Yes, no matter how distasteful she may find the idea, she had to talk to her mother. Hopefully, she would know what to do. “I will give you an answer within the week, Your Evening Radiance, regardless of what it is.” Another smile that was far too sad for such an expression tilted her lips. “In the meantime, thank you for at least trying to help me. I’ve had literal nightmares about this exact conversation, and I can tell you now that not one of them went quite like this.”
At the mention of Sirdar H’Haikkadad, she stiffened almost imperceptibly. No, she did not want to involve Narmer in this. Nia was doing everything she could to get out of the arrangements her parents wanted so badly and to confide in him would only pull him further into a life she wanted to push him away from. “My betrothal to Lord Narmer is only tentative as of now, Your Evening Radiance,” she replied politely, dropping her gaze back to the restlessly shifting hands in her lap. “I… I did not wish to involve him in something so potentially dangerous like this, especially while everything remains so uncertain. If things become more finalized, then… perhaps.”
Glancing up at the quickly setting sun, Nia turned to her unexpected companion with a soft sigh. “I fear I must get back home before too long. My mother threatened me within an inch of my life if I didn’t show up for supper tonight.” Inclining her head respectfully, she added, “With your leave, of course, my Queen.”
Nia offered a tremulous but grateful smile when Hatshepsut swore she would tell no one without asking her first. If Iahotep knew his wife was aware of their ‘affair,’ gods, but she could only imagine the rage that would ensue. And then if Hatshepsut went on to tell anyone else… the young noblewoman shuddered at the thought.
“Your offer is very generous, Your Evening Radiance, but I shall have to think on it,” was her quiet response, her thoughts a tumult of pros and cons. As the Queen said herself, she would have to live under the same roof as her tormentor, and despite Hatshepsut’s reassurances that she could protect her, keep her away from him at night, Nia was not so convinced. There was little she would put past the Pharaoh, and if she was right there for the taking…
On the other hand, she was the Queen. If anyone could do anything to help Nia, it would be her or her mother. Would Iahotep be so bold to summon her from right under his wife’s nose? Would it deter him or simply contribute to his power trip? Gods only knew.
Besides all of that, there was the practicality of becoming the Queen’s attendant. Neithotep H’Sheifa was a creature who’d rarely worked a day in her life, waited on daily by slaves and servants of her own. How well would she really be suited to care for someone else, and the Queen at that? Free-spirited and adventurous she was, but the mischievous noblewoman was a woman who needed someone to look after her, not the other way around.
This was far too large of a decision to be made on the spot, she knew. It was a hardly a decision she could make on her own, either—it would need to be discussed with her parents before she could give a firm yes or no. As much as she bemoaned the fact, she could not make such big life changes on a whim, not while she still lived at the mercy of her father.
“I… I will talk to my parents and see what they think,” Nia told the Queen, hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. Iaheru had once been retainer to Hatshepsut’s own mother, and if there was anyone who could possibly understand the situation she lingered in… Yes, no matter how distasteful she may find the idea, she had to talk to her mother. Hopefully, she would know what to do. “I will give you an answer within the week, Your Evening Radiance, regardless of what it is.” Another smile that was far too sad for such an expression tilted her lips. “In the meantime, thank you for at least trying to help me. I’ve had literal nightmares about this exact conversation, and I can tell you now that not one of them went quite like this.”
At the mention of Sirdar H’Haikkadad, she stiffened almost imperceptibly. No, she did not want to involve Narmer in this. Nia was doing everything she could to get out of the arrangements her parents wanted so badly and to confide in him would only pull him further into a life she wanted to push him away from. “My betrothal to Lord Narmer is only tentative as of now, Your Evening Radiance,” she replied politely, dropping her gaze back to the restlessly shifting hands in her lap. “I… I did not wish to involve him in something so potentially dangerous like this, especially while everything remains so uncertain. If things become more finalized, then… perhaps.”
Glancing up at the quickly setting sun, Nia turned to her unexpected companion with a soft sigh. “I fear I must get back home before too long. My mother threatened me within an inch of my life if I didn’t show up for supper tonight.” Inclining her head respectfully, she added, “With your leave, of course, my Queen.”
“Of course,” Hatshepsut replied with a regal nod. “It’s not a decision you should make right away. Take all the time you need.” Consulting her parents was an excellent idea. She was unaware that Neithotep’s mother had once been a retainer to her own and that she had caught her father’s eye while serving Isetheperu. Even had she known, she would still think that discussing the possibility of serving her was not a decision the noblewoman should make on her own. If Neithotep wished to know more about the Queen, she could always ask the half-brother that both of them shared. Sutekh had become a good friend since he had moved into the palace, and she knew that he was as fond of her as she was of him.
It didn’t cross Hatshepsut’s mind that Iahotep would think she knew of his affair with Neithotep. Most of her other retainers were from the noble Heis and it wouldn’t look suspicious if she took a member of the H’Sheifa family into her service. He would probably think that Sutekh had put her up to it, wanting to have one of his sisters close to him. That would throw him off the real reason that the woman had been chosen.
If he inquired as to her reasoning, she was certain that she could convince him that the decision had been hers and hers alone. He would likely know that she had been trying to improve their reputation and appointing one of them as her attendant would do much to elevate them in the eyes of the other Heis. Most women would kill for the opportunity to serve her. There were many advantages to obtaining such a position, the most important one being that her retainers had her favor.
Nefret jumped from her lap to her shoulder and sat upon it, peering around her as if bored. Tahira still sat at her side, her tufted ears twitching every now and then when she heard an interesting sound. A slight smile curved Hatshepsut's lips when Neithotep confessed that she’d had nightmares about the Queen finding out about her affair with the Pharaoh. She could imagine what those dreams entailed … that she would be angry and accuse her of seducing her husband for her own selfish gain. “I’m glad that you were pleasantly surprised,” she said. “I hate him as much as you do.”
Hatshepsut noticed the tension in Neithotep’s body when asked if she had considered telling Sirdar H’Haikkadad of her predicament. The petite Queen had thought that the betrothal had been finalized, but apparently, negotiations were still underway.
What would he think if he knew? Would he withdraw his suit, figuring that the Pharaoh had claimed her as his own? Would he feel as if he could gain more power because Iahtop had taken his wife as his mistress? Hatsheptsut hoped that he would protect her and put an end to the abuse she was suffering, but she knew very little about the man. Perhaps he was the type to put his own ambitions before the safety of his wife. Maybe she should ask Safiya about her brother so that she could subtly find out what kind of person he was.
“It was not a command, just a suggestion,” she assured the other woman. Following her glance up to the sky, Hatshepsut nodded again. “I will keep you no longer. I should go back inside as well.” Sometimes Iahotep liked to have dinner with her, which she loathed. She stood up. Tahira rose too. Nefret hopped to the ground and scampered over to the caracal, swatting her with her long tail. Tahira tried to bite it but the monkey was too fast. It was a game the two often played. “I hope your mind is more at ease now and that you will enjoy your evening.”
Turning around, she headed back in the direction of the palace, her pets trotting at her side.
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“Of course,” Hatshepsut replied with a regal nod. “It’s not a decision you should make right away. Take all the time you need.” Consulting her parents was an excellent idea. She was unaware that Neithotep’s mother had once been a retainer to her own and that she had caught her father’s eye while serving Isetheperu. Even had she known, she would still think that discussing the possibility of serving her was not a decision the noblewoman should make on her own. If Neithotep wished to know more about the Queen, she could always ask the half-brother that both of them shared. Sutekh had become a good friend since he had moved into the palace, and she knew that he was as fond of her as she was of him.
It didn’t cross Hatshepsut’s mind that Iahotep would think she knew of his affair with Neithotep. Most of her other retainers were from the noble Heis and it wouldn’t look suspicious if she took a member of the H’Sheifa family into her service. He would probably think that Sutekh had put her up to it, wanting to have one of his sisters close to him. That would throw him off the real reason that the woman had been chosen.
If he inquired as to her reasoning, she was certain that she could convince him that the decision had been hers and hers alone. He would likely know that she had been trying to improve their reputation and appointing one of them as her attendant would do much to elevate them in the eyes of the other Heis. Most women would kill for the opportunity to serve her. There were many advantages to obtaining such a position, the most important one being that her retainers had her favor.
Nefret jumped from her lap to her shoulder and sat upon it, peering around her as if bored. Tahira still sat at her side, her tufted ears twitching every now and then when she heard an interesting sound. A slight smile curved Hatshepsut's lips when Neithotep confessed that she’d had nightmares about the Queen finding out about her affair with the Pharaoh. She could imagine what those dreams entailed … that she would be angry and accuse her of seducing her husband for her own selfish gain. “I’m glad that you were pleasantly surprised,” she said. “I hate him as much as you do.”
Hatshepsut noticed the tension in Neithotep’s body when asked if she had considered telling Sirdar H’Haikkadad of her predicament. The petite Queen had thought that the betrothal had been finalized, but apparently, negotiations were still underway.
What would he think if he knew? Would he withdraw his suit, figuring that the Pharaoh had claimed her as his own? Would he feel as if he could gain more power because Iahtop had taken his wife as his mistress? Hatsheptsut hoped that he would protect her and put an end to the abuse she was suffering, but she knew very little about the man. Perhaps he was the type to put his own ambitions before the safety of his wife. Maybe she should ask Safiya about her brother so that she could subtly find out what kind of person he was.
“It was not a command, just a suggestion,” she assured the other woman. Following her glance up to the sky, Hatshepsut nodded again. “I will keep you no longer. I should go back inside as well.” Sometimes Iahotep liked to have dinner with her, which she loathed. She stood up. Tahira rose too. Nefret hopped to the ground and scampered over to the caracal, swatting her with her long tail. Tahira tried to bite it but the monkey was too fast. It was a game the two often played. “I hope your mind is more at ease now and that you will enjoy your evening.”
Turning around, she headed back in the direction of the palace, her pets trotting at her side.
“Of course,” Hatshepsut replied with a regal nod. “It’s not a decision you should make right away. Take all the time you need.” Consulting her parents was an excellent idea. She was unaware that Neithotep’s mother had once been a retainer to her own and that she had caught her father’s eye while serving Isetheperu. Even had she known, she would still think that discussing the possibility of serving her was not a decision the noblewoman should make on her own. If Neithotep wished to know more about the Queen, she could always ask the half-brother that both of them shared. Sutekh had become a good friend since he had moved into the palace, and she knew that he was as fond of her as she was of him.
It didn’t cross Hatshepsut’s mind that Iahotep would think she knew of his affair with Neithotep. Most of her other retainers were from the noble Heis and it wouldn’t look suspicious if she took a member of the H’Sheifa family into her service. He would probably think that Sutekh had put her up to it, wanting to have one of his sisters close to him. That would throw him off the real reason that the woman had been chosen.
If he inquired as to her reasoning, she was certain that she could convince him that the decision had been hers and hers alone. He would likely know that she had been trying to improve their reputation and appointing one of them as her attendant would do much to elevate them in the eyes of the other Heis. Most women would kill for the opportunity to serve her. There were many advantages to obtaining such a position, the most important one being that her retainers had her favor.
Nefret jumped from her lap to her shoulder and sat upon it, peering around her as if bored. Tahira still sat at her side, her tufted ears twitching every now and then when she heard an interesting sound. A slight smile curved Hatshepsut's lips when Neithotep confessed that she’d had nightmares about the Queen finding out about her affair with the Pharaoh. She could imagine what those dreams entailed … that she would be angry and accuse her of seducing her husband for her own selfish gain. “I’m glad that you were pleasantly surprised,” she said. “I hate him as much as you do.”
Hatshepsut noticed the tension in Neithotep’s body when asked if she had considered telling Sirdar H’Haikkadad of her predicament. The petite Queen had thought that the betrothal had been finalized, but apparently, negotiations were still underway.
What would he think if he knew? Would he withdraw his suit, figuring that the Pharaoh had claimed her as his own? Would he feel as if he could gain more power because Iahtop had taken his wife as his mistress? Hatsheptsut hoped that he would protect her and put an end to the abuse she was suffering, but she knew very little about the man. Perhaps he was the type to put his own ambitions before the safety of his wife. Maybe she should ask Safiya about her brother so that she could subtly find out what kind of person he was.
“It was not a command, just a suggestion,” she assured the other woman. Following her glance up to the sky, Hatshepsut nodded again. “I will keep you no longer. I should go back inside as well.” Sometimes Iahotep liked to have dinner with her, which she loathed. She stood up. Tahira rose too. Nefret hopped to the ground and scampered over to the caracal, swatting her with her long tail. Tahira tried to bite it but the monkey was too fast. It was a game the two often played. “I hope your mind is more at ease now and that you will enjoy your evening.”
Turning around, she headed back in the direction of the palace, her pets trotting at her side.