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It had taken her longer than she had really expected to make it out to the market and then back in order to restock some of the supply. The royal physician did not seem to enjoy the workroom that the two of them were given to share. Honestly, it didn’t even appear as if the royal physician used the space before Skylla had taken it over. That suited her just fine, however. The young physician wasn’t exactly the type who liked to share anyway and it gave her much more solitude in the long run. Having someone hover over her shoulder was not something that she was inclined to withstand for long. After a point, she had been relieved that Lysander had left her alone and to her own devices.
Striding back in from the market with her basket full of herbs and other medicinal supplies, she carefully set to setting everything out at the work table. Moving around the table to gather the empty jars and bottles, and some jars that were full but with old stock, she piled everything in the center of the table. Deft fingers worked at cleaning and restocking each jar and bottle with the medicines that she only freshly purchased. Skylla was of the stern opinion that medicines lost their potency if left to sit too long. In fact, she was entirely sure that most of the stock that had been here at the beginning had been there for longer than she had been alive.
Once all of the herbs were stored away and the jars reorganized and placed on their proper shelves, from most used to the least, Skylla let out a slow sigh and brushed her hands together. Leaning back against the work station, she looked for anything else to do that might burn a bit of energy while she had some time to kill. She wasn’t tired enough to go back to her rooms, but it was too late to sneak into the kitchens. Many of the cooks would likely be gone and it had been her own fault that she had missed supper. But that left so much time to socialize… if that was actually anything she was interested in.
Generally, Skylla was much more inclined to keep her head down and her mouth shut. It would bring her less trouble in the long run, after all. The less she said, the fewer eyes on her. Though, she was entirely sure that she would not be able to avoid people for so long. There would come a time when her powers of avoidance would fail and she would be forced into socializing with people. Egyptians. People she didn’t exactly like nor care about. They were a means to an end and gods above she would have done anything to be curled up next to Callidora at that moment.
In the market, she had tried her best to catch sight of her lover, her best friend, and she had. For a moment, she had been overjoyed that her head was still attached to her shoulders. But she hadn’t lingered and she had left before Dora could spot her, not wanting to draw attention to either of them. Not with the charges against them still so fresh and cutting.
Bored and unsure that there really was more to do, Skylla turned to leave the room, taking the small lantern with her to guide her through darkened halls. To her surprise, she came face to face with another woman and her dark eyes bored into the noble’s. “May I help you?” she asked sweetly, putting on an easy, kind smile that always seemed to work with people. It broke down emotional walls quickly and easily when someone could trust you. And smiles did just that. They built trust.
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It had taken her longer than she had really expected to make it out to the market and then back in order to restock some of the supply. The royal physician did not seem to enjoy the workroom that the two of them were given to share. Honestly, it didn’t even appear as if the royal physician used the space before Skylla had taken it over. That suited her just fine, however. The young physician wasn’t exactly the type who liked to share anyway and it gave her much more solitude in the long run. Having someone hover over her shoulder was not something that she was inclined to withstand for long. After a point, she had been relieved that Lysander had left her alone and to her own devices.
Striding back in from the market with her basket full of herbs and other medicinal supplies, she carefully set to setting everything out at the work table. Moving around the table to gather the empty jars and bottles, and some jars that were full but with old stock, she piled everything in the center of the table. Deft fingers worked at cleaning and restocking each jar and bottle with the medicines that she only freshly purchased. Skylla was of the stern opinion that medicines lost their potency if left to sit too long. In fact, she was entirely sure that most of the stock that had been here at the beginning had been there for longer than she had been alive.
Once all of the herbs were stored away and the jars reorganized and placed on their proper shelves, from most used to the least, Skylla let out a slow sigh and brushed her hands together. Leaning back against the work station, she looked for anything else to do that might burn a bit of energy while she had some time to kill. She wasn’t tired enough to go back to her rooms, but it was too late to sneak into the kitchens. Many of the cooks would likely be gone and it had been her own fault that she had missed supper. But that left so much time to socialize… if that was actually anything she was interested in.
Generally, Skylla was much more inclined to keep her head down and her mouth shut. It would bring her less trouble in the long run, after all. The less she said, the fewer eyes on her. Though, she was entirely sure that she would not be able to avoid people for so long. There would come a time when her powers of avoidance would fail and she would be forced into socializing with people. Egyptians. People she didn’t exactly like nor care about. They were a means to an end and gods above she would have done anything to be curled up next to Callidora at that moment.
In the market, she had tried her best to catch sight of her lover, her best friend, and she had. For a moment, she had been overjoyed that her head was still attached to her shoulders. But she hadn’t lingered and she had left before Dora could spot her, not wanting to draw attention to either of them. Not with the charges against them still so fresh and cutting.
Bored and unsure that there really was more to do, Skylla turned to leave the room, taking the small lantern with her to guide her through darkened halls. To her surprise, she came face to face with another woman and her dark eyes bored into the noble’s. “May I help you?” she asked sweetly, putting on an easy, kind smile that always seemed to work with people. It broke down emotional walls quickly and easily when someone could trust you. And smiles did just that. They built trust.
It had taken her longer than she had really expected to make it out to the market and then back in order to restock some of the supply. The royal physician did not seem to enjoy the workroom that the two of them were given to share. Honestly, it didn’t even appear as if the royal physician used the space before Skylla had taken it over. That suited her just fine, however. The young physician wasn’t exactly the type who liked to share anyway and it gave her much more solitude in the long run. Having someone hover over her shoulder was not something that she was inclined to withstand for long. After a point, she had been relieved that Lysander had left her alone and to her own devices.
Striding back in from the market with her basket full of herbs and other medicinal supplies, she carefully set to setting everything out at the work table. Moving around the table to gather the empty jars and bottles, and some jars that were full but with old stock, she piled everything in the center of the table. Deft fingers worked at cleaning and restocking each jar and bottle with the medicines that she only freshly purchased. Skylla was of the stern opinion that medicines lost their potency if left to sit too long. In fact, she was entirely sure that most of the stock that had been here at the beginning had been there for longer than she had been alive.
Once all of the herbs were stored away and the jars reorganized and placed on their proper shelves, from most used to the least, Skylla let out a slow sigh and brushed her hands together. Leaning back against the work station, she looked for anything else to do that might burn a bit of energy while she had some time to kill. She wasn’t tired enough to go back to her rooms, but it was too late to sneak into the kitchens. Many of the cooks would likely be gone and it had been her own fault that she had missed supper. But that left so much time to socialize… if that was actually anything she was interested in.
Generally, Skylla was much more inclined to keep her head down and her mouth shut. It would bring her less trouble in the long run, after all. The less she said, the fewer eyes on her. Though, she was entirely sure that she would not be able to avoid people for so long. There would come a time when her powers of avoidance would fail and she would be forced into socializing with people. Egyptians. People she didn’t exactly like nor care about. They were a means to an end and gods above she would have done anything to be curled up next to Callidora at that moment.
In the market, she had tried her best to catch sight of her lover, her best friend, and she had. For a moment, she had been overjoyed that her head was still attached to her shoulders. But she hadn’t lingered and she had left before Dora could spot her, not wanting to draw attention to either of them. Not with the charges against them still so fresh and cutting.
Bored and unsure that there really was more to do, Skylla turned to leave the room, taking the small lantern with her to guide her through darkened halls. To her surprise, she came face to face with another woman and her dark eyes bored into the noble’s. “May I help you?” she asked sweetly, putting on an easy, kind smile that always seemed to work with people. It broke down emotional walls quickly and easily when someone could trust you. And smiles did just that. They built trust.
Nia slipped past the threshold of Iahotep’s door, eyes closed for a moment as she leaned against the wall beside it. It had been a long few nights even without the Pharaoh’s summons, but this night had only exhausted her further. Her shoulder still throbbed from the injury she’d sustained the previous evening, a line of blood sluggishly seeping through the fabric of her kalasiris. Bruises and scrapes littered her body from head to toe, and when the Pharaoh had seen them... his rage had been indescribable, but for once, it wasn’t directed at her.
The look in his eyes had promised bloody vengeance, his touch surprisingly gentle when he looked her over. Apparently, it was fine for him to leave all manner of bumps and bruises on her, but for someone else to do it bordered on heretical blasphemy. She had a strange gratitude in that protective possessiveness; at the very least, she knew if another man ever dared to hurt her again, she had a powerful force at her disposal. While she’d give anything not to be Iahotep’s mistress any longer, at least it came with a few perks—as limited as they were.
After his own cursory examination of her injuries, he’d sent her off with gruff instructions to visit the royal physician’s new assistant, Skylla. While her newfound friend the night before had done her best to bandage her up and clean the wounds, apparently the Pharaoh did not trust that a commoner would tend her properly. Not daring to argue, she only nodded and acquiesced, nearly running out of the room in her haste to be rid of him. While it was somewhat refreshing to have him fussing over her rather than smacking her around, she did not trust this newfound ‘tenderness’ any more than she trusted him. She knew how quickly his mood could turn, and she didn’t want to be around to see it.
Stopping outside Skylla’s door, she hesitated before making her presence known. Obviously, the Pharaoh trusted this woman to be discreet if he was sending Nia to her, but the young noblewoman wasn’t sure if she shared those same feelings. She’d only met Skylla once before at the event the queen had thrown for the ladies of the Court, and she’d seemed all right from what she’d seen. But what did that mean? When had Neithotep H’Sheifa ever been a good judge of character? Was this woman merely one of the Pharaoh’s lackeys and would report back every word that spilled from her lips?
She’d just have to be careful with what she said.
Before she could enter the room, Skylla exited, causing Nia to stumble back a few steps in surprise. “Hello, Skylla,” she greeted the woman with a polite incline of her head. “Forgive me for the late hour—I was just about to knock,” she apologized, a light flush tinting her cheeks. Self-conscious, she tugged at her kalasiris before offering her own hesitant smile. “His Majesty sent me to see you.” Shifting the fabric from her shoulder to reveal the knife would it concealed, her smile turned a little more sheepish. “I had an… altercation in the tavern district last night. A friend helped me, but he wanted you to have a look at it, as well. See if it needs to be stitched or anything.”
Hoping the woman wouldn’t bother to ask why the Pharaoh sent her instead of someone else, she nodded toward the now empty room. “Do you mind if we go inside? I’d rather no one else knew about my… accident. If you don’t mind, of course.”
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Nia slipped past the threshold of Iahotep’s door, eyes closed for a moment as she leaned against the wall beside it. It had been a long few nights even without the Pharaoh’s summons, but this night had only exhausted her further. Her shoulder still throbbed from the injury she’d sustained the previous evening, a line of blood sluggishly seeping through the fabric of her kalasiris. Bruises and scrapes littered her body from head to toe, and when the Pharaoh had seen them... his rage had been indescribable, but for once, it wasn’t directed at her.
The look in his eyes had promised bloody vengeance, his touch surprisingly gentle when he looked her over. Apparently, it was fine for him to leave all manner of bumps and bruises on her, but for someone else to do it bordered on heretical blasphemy. She had a strange gratitude in that protective possessiveness; at the very least, she knew if another man ever dared to hurt her again, she had a powerful force at her disposal. While she’d give anything not to be Iahotep’s mistress any longer, at least it came with a few perks—as limited as they were.
After his own cursory examination of her injuries, he’d sent her off with gruff instructions to visit the royal physician’s new assistant, Skylla. While her newfound friend the night before had done her best to bandage her up and clean the wounds, apparently the Pharaoh did not trust that a commoner would tend her properly. Not daring to argue, she only nodded and acquiesced, nearly running out of the room in her haste to be rid of him. While it was somewhat refreshing to have him fussing over her rather than smacking her around, she did not trust this newfound ‘tenderness’ any more than she trusted him. She knew how quickly his mood could turn, and she didn’t want to be around to see it.
Stopping outside Skylla’s door, she hesitated before making her presence known. Obviously, the Pharaoh trusted this woman to be discreet if he was sending Nia to her, but the young noblewoman wasn’t sure if she shared those same feelings. She’d only met Skylla once before at the event the queen had thrown for the ladies of the Court, and she’d seemed all right from what she’d seen. But what did that mean? When had Neithotep H’Sheifa ever been a good judge of character? Was this woman merely one of the Pharaoh’s lackeys and would report back every word that spilled from her lips?
She’d just have to be careful with what she said.
Before she could enter the room, Skylla exited, causing Nia to stumble back a few steps in surprise. “Hello, Skylla,” she greeted the woman with a polite incline of her head. “Forgive me for the late hour—I was just about to knock,” she apologized, a light flush tinting her cheeks. Self-conscious, she tugged at her kalasiris before offering her own hesitant smile. “His Majesty sent me to see you.” Shifting the fabric from her shoulder to reveal the knife would it concealed, her smile turned a little more sheepish. “I had an… altercation in the tavern district last night. A friend helped me, but he wanted you to have a look at it, as well. See if it needs to be stitched or anything.”
Hoping the woman wouldn’t bother to ask why the Pharaoh sent her instead of someone else, she nodded toward the now empty room. “Do you mind if we go inside? I’d rather no one else knew about my… accident. If you don’t mind, of course.”
Nia slipped past the threshold of Iahotep’s door, eyes closed for a moment as she leaned against the wall beside it. It had been a long few nights even without the Pharaoh’s summons, but this night had only exhausted her further. Her shoulder still throbbed from the injury she’d sustained the previous evening, a line of blood sluggishly seeping through the fabric of her kalasiris. Bruises and scrapes littered her body from head to toe, and when the Pharaoh had seen them... his rage had been indescribable, but for once, it wasn’t directed at her.
The look in his eyes had promised bloody vengeance, his touch surprisingly gentle when he looked her over. Apparently, it was fine for him to leave all manner of bumps and bruises on her, but for someone else to do it bordered on heretical blasphemy. She had a strange gratitude in that protective possessiveness; at the very least, she knew if another man ever dared to hurt her again, she had a powerful force at her disposal. While she’d give anything not to be Iahotep’s mistress any longer, at least it came with a few perks—as limited as they were.
After his own cursory examination of her injuries, he’d sent her off with gruff instructions to visit the royal physician’s new assistant, Skylla. While her newfound friend the night before had done her best to bandage her up and clean the wounds, apparently the Pharaoh did not trust that a commoner would tend her properly. Not daring to argue, she only nodded and acquiesced, nearly running out of the room in her haste to be rid of him. While it was somewhat refreshing to have him fussing over her rather than smacking her around, she did not trust this newfound ‘tenderness’ any more than she trusted him. She knew how quickly his mood could turn, and she didn’t want to be around to see it.
Stopping outside Skylla’s door, she hesitated before making her presence known. Obviously, the Pharaoh trusted this woman to be discreet if he was sending Nia to her, but the young noblewoman wasn’t sure if she shared those same feelings. She’d only met Skylla once before at the event the queen had thrown for the ladies of the Court, and she’d seemed all right from what she’d seen. But what did that mean? When had Neithotep H’Sheifa ever been a good judge of character? Was this woman merely one of the Pharaoh’s lackeys and would report back every word that spilled from her lips?
She’d just have to be careful with what she said.
Before she could enter the room, Skylla exited, causing Nia to stumble back a few steps in surprise. “Hello, Skylla,” she greeted the woman with a polite incline of her head. “Forgive me for the late hour—I was just about to knock,” she apologized, a light flush tinting her cheeks. Self-conscious, she tugged at her kalasiris before offering her own hesitant smile. “His Majesty sent me to see you.” Shifting the fabric from her shoulder to reveal the knife would it concealed, her smile turned a little more sheepish. “I had an… altercation in the tavern district last night. A friend helped me, but he wanted you to have a look at it, as well. See if it needs to be stitched or anything.”
Hoping the woman wouldn’t bother to ask why the Pharaoh sent her instead of someone else, she nodded toward the now empty room. “Do you mind if we go inside? I’d rather no one else knew about my… accident. If you don’t mind, of course.”
Skylla took a short moment to look the young noble lady up and down. What she was doing here, the physician wasn't entirely sure. At least at first. But her questions were almost immediately answered by the beautiful Neithotep without Skylla really being able to get a word in edgewise. That suited the physician well, knwoing that she might find it in her to be snarky if she did not keep herself in check. Not being afforded the chance to speak or respond was the perfect way to keep herself from ruining the mask of tenderness and compassion that she showed everyone she met.
Did she truly care? Not really. She did care, however, about the life of the woman that she was protecting. A few weeks of working for the Pharaoh could ensure that she could get Callidora on a boat and far away from Egypt. Her lover did not deserve the sudden loneliness nor the insecurity of having no one to lean on while stuck on the streets of Cairo. Skylla had to remind herself that the lady before her had asked her a question.
Reaching forward without waiting for permission, Skylla made Nia turn slightly so that she could get a look at the wound at her shoulder. Immediately, her dark brows furrowed and Skylla was sighing, as if she were chastising the lady. "Of course, my lady," Skylla murmured, moving entirely to her back and ushering her into the work room with her lantern still in hand. She closed the door behind the two of them and set the small object at the center of her work table. Reaching for a small stick, she lit the wood with the flame from the lantern and then moved about the room to light the rest of the lanterns and candles that would bring the room into a gentle glow.
Enough light to work by, at least.
"What were you doing in the tavern district anyway, my lady?" Skylla finally scolded with a voice that was all softness and concern. Like a wetnurse scolding the toddler they were watching over. She had heard her own mother use this tone so many times before. "Take down the front of your dress so that I can get a better look, please," she then added, moving about the room. She still had some fresh water left from the day and spent some time gathering the water, clean rags, bandages, and the herbs she could use to make a healing poultice.
Once Skylla had all of her ingredients laid across the table, she approached Nia again, moving the woman's hair out of the way so that she could get a really good look at the wound. "What were you stabbed with?" she questioned, wondering how deep she might have to clean to ensure that the lady did not catch an infection. "You have nothing to worry about. I do not discuss the health of patients with anyone but those expressly required to know," the woman murmured, "You have my vow of secrecy. Who did this to you?"
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Skylla took a short moment to look the young noble lady up and down. What she was doing here, the physician wasn't entirely sure. At least at first. But her questions were almost immediately answered by the beautiful Neithotep without Skylla really being able to get a word in edgewise. That suited the physician well, knwoing that she might find it in her to be snarky if she did not keep herself in check. Not being afforded the chance to speak or respond was the perfect way to keep herself from ruining the mask of tenderness and compassion that she showed everyone she met.
Did she truly care? Not really. She did care, however, about the life of the woman that she was protecting. A few weeks of working for the Pharaoh could ensure that she could get Callidora on a boat and far away from Egypt. Her lover did not deserve the sudden loneliness nor the insecurity of having no one to lean on while stuck on the streets of Cairo. Skylla had to remind herself that the lady before her had asked her a question.
Reaching forward without waiting for permission, Skylla made Nia turn slightly so that she could get a look at the wound at her shoulder. Immediately, her dark brows furrowed and Skylla was sighing, as if she were chastising the lady. "Of course, my lady," Skylla murmured, moving entirely to her back and ushering her into the work room with her lantern still in hand. She closed the door behind the two of them and set the small object at the center of her work table. Reaching for a small stick, she lit the wood with the flame from the lantern and then moved about the room to light the rest of the lanterns and candles that would bring the room into a gentle glow.
Enough light to work by, at least.
"What were you doing in the tavern district anyway, my lady?" Skylla finally scolded with a voice that was all softness and concern. Like a wetnurse scolding the toddler they were watching over. She had heard her own mother use this tone so many times before. "Take down the front of your dress so that I can get a better look, please," she then added, moving about the room. She still had some fresh water left from the day and spent some time gathering the water, clean rags, bandages, and the herbs she could use to make a healing poultice.
Once Skylla had all of her ingredients laid across the table, she approached Nia again, moving the woman's hair out of the way so that she could get a really good look at the wound. "What were you stabbed with?" she questioned, wondering how deep she might have to clean to ensure that the lady did not catch an infection. "You have nothing to worry about. I do not discuss the health of patients with anyone but those expressly required to know," the woman murmured, "You have my vow of secrecy. Who did this to you?"
Skylla took a short moment to look the young noble lady up and down. What she was doing here, the physician wasn't entirely sure. At least at first. But her questions were almost immediately answered by the beautiful Neithotep without Skylla really being able to get a word in edgewise. That suited the physician well, knwoing that she might find it in her to be snarky if she did not keep herself in check. Not being afforded the chance to speak or respond was the perfect way to keep herself from ruining the mask of tenderness and compassion that she showed everyone she met.
Did she truly care? Not really. She did care, however, about the life of the woman that she was protecting. A few weeks of working for the Pharaoh could ensure that she could get Callidora on a boat and far away from Egypt. Her lover did not deserve the sudden loneliness nor the insecurity of having no one to lean on while stuck on the streets of Cairo. Skylla had to remind herself that the lady before her had asked her a question.
Reaching forward without waiting for permission, Skylla made Nia turn slightly so that she could get a look at the wound at her shoulder. Immediately, her dark brows furrowed and Skylla was sighing, as if she were chastising the lady. "Of course, my lady," Skylla murmured, moving entirely to her back and ushering her into the work room with her lantern still in hand. She closed the door behind the two of them and set the small object at the center of her work table. Reaching for a small stick, she lit the wood with the flame from the lantern and then moved about the room to light the rest of the lanterns and candles that would bring the room into a gentle glow.
Enough light to work by, at least.
"What were you doing in the tavern district anyway, my lady?" Skylla finally scolded with a voice that was all softness and concern. Like a wetnurse scolding the toddler they were watching over. She had heard her own mother use this tone so many times before. "Take down the front of your dress so that I can get a better look, please," she then added, moving about the room. She still had some fresh water left from the day and spent some time gathering the water, clean rags, bandages, and the herbs she could use to make a healing poultice.
Once Skylla had all of her ingredients laid across the table, she approached Nia again, moving the woman's hair out of the way so that she could get a really good look at the wound. "What were you stabbed with?" she questioned, wondering how deep she might have to clean to ensure that the lady did not catch an infection. "You have nothing to worry about. I do not discuss the health of patients with anyone but those expressly required to know," the woman murmured, "You have my vow of secrecy. Who did this to you?"
Nia followed close behind as Skylla led her inside, answering her question almost defensively, “I spend quite a lot of time in the tavern district, you know. Up until recently, I would argue I’ve spent more time down there than in the Palace itself.” Shrugging and wincing when the fabric brushed her shoulder, she added, “I’ve gotten into little scrapes here and there, but never anything serious. This was the first time anyone has ever attacked me with such malicious intent. I guess it was bound to happen eventually.”
Anyone besides the Pharaoh, that is. This, of course, she kept to herself.
The young noblewoman wasn’t sure why she was talking so much, but once started, she couldn’t seem to stop. Perhaps it was relief at having someone else to share a secret with or perhaps it was just loneliness in general, but Nia found herself a little happier to share her bad experience than she ought to have been.
Letting down the front of her kalasiris at Skylla’s instruction, she turned so that her back was to the other woman. She had no particular qualms about nudity, but she wasn’t too keen on the idea of the myriad of bruises that were sure to show. At least she could use the excuse of her attack, though a physician with any training would realize many of the wounds were older than the night before. With any luck, she wouldn’t ask about them.
“Some sort of dagger,” Nia replied when the healer asked what she’d been stabbed with. “It was dark, I couldn’t really see very clearly.” She winced again when her hair was moved, some of it brushing against her shoulder. “As far as who attacked me… I genuinely don’t know. I think he followed me from one of the taverns I’d been in, and I was too drunk to notice.”
She grimaced at that, wishing she’d been more lucid to spot him before he’d pounced. Perhaps she might have avoided it or at least led him somewhere he could’ve been stopped sooner. “He tried to do… other… things, but another woman stepped in. Beat him off me, left him for nearly dead. I doubt I’ll be seeing him again.”
Shuddering as she thought back on the lewd look in the man’s eyes as he’d taken her down, reaching between his legs with the dark promise of what was to come, she shook her head to clear it of such thoughts. Lingering on what might have happened did her no good; she was lucky the enigmatic mute had intervened when she had. Gods only knew what might have been left of Nia if she hadn’t.
“So, what do you think?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder at Skylla. “Will it need stitches?”
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Nia followed close behind as Skylla led her inside, answering her question almost defensively, “I spend quite a lot of time in the tavern district, you know. Up until recently, I would argue I’ve spent more time down there than in the Palace itself.” Shrugging and wincing when the fabric brushed her shoulder, she added, “I’ve gotten into little scrapes here and there, but never anything serious. This was the first time anyone has ever attacked me with such malicious intent. I guess it was bound to happen eventually.”
Anyone besides the Pharaoh, that is. This, of course, she kept to herself.
The young noblewoman wasn’t sure why she was talking so much, but once started, she couldn’t seem to stop. Perhaps it was relief at having someone else to share a secret with or perhaps it was just loneliness in general, but Nia found herself a little happier to share her bad experience than she ought to have been.
Letting down the front of her kalasiris at Skylla’s instruction, she turned so that her back was to the other woman. She had no particular qualms about nudity, but she wasn’t too keen on the idea of the myriad of bruises that were sure to show. At least she could use the excuse of her attack, though a physician with any training would realize many of the wounds were older than the night before. With any luck, she wouldn’t ask about them.
“Some sort of dagger,” Nia replied when the healer asked what she’d been stabbed with. “It was dark, I couldn’t really see very clearly.” She winced again when her hair was moved, some of it brushing against her shoulder. “As far as who attacked me… I genuinely don’t know. I think he followed me from one of the taverns I’d been in, and I was too drunk to notice.”
She grimaced at that, wishing she’d been more lucid to spot him before he’d pounced. Perhaps she might have avoided it or at least led him somewhere he could’ve been stopped sooner. “He tried to do… other… things, but another woman stepped in. Beat him off me, left him for nearly dead. I doubt I’ll be seeing him again.”
Shuddering as she thought back on the lewd look in the man’s eyes as he’d taken her down, reaching between his legs with the dark promise of what was to come, she shook her head to clear it of such thoughts. Lingering on what might have happened did her no good; she was lucky the enigmatic mute had intervened when she had. Gods only knew what might have been left of Nia if she hadn’t.
“So, what do you think?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder at Skylla. “Will it need stitches?”
Nia followed close behind as Skylla led her inside, answering her question almost defensively, “I spend quite a lot of time in the tavern district, you know. Up until recently, I would argue I’ve spent more time down there than in the Palace itself.” Shrugging and wincing when the fabric brushed her shoulder, she added, “I’ve gotten into little scrapes here and there, but never anything serious. This was the first time anyone has ever attacked me with such malicious intent. I guess it was bound to happen eventually.”
Anyone besides the Pharaoh, that is. This, of course, she kept to herself.
The young noblewoman wasn’t sure why she was talking so much, but once started, she couldn’t seem to stop. Perhaps it was relief at having someone else to share a secret with or perhaps it was just loneliness in general, but Nia found herself a little happier to share her bad experience than she ought to have been.
Letting down the front of her kalasiris at Skylla’s instruction, she turned so that her back was to the other woman. She had no particular qualms about nudity, but she wasn’t too keen on the idea of the myriad of bruises that were sure to show. At least she could use the excuse of her attack, though a physician with any training would realize many of the wounds were older than the night before. With any luck, she wouldn’t ask about them.
“Some sort of dagger,” Nia replied when the healer asked what she’d been stabbed with. “It was dark, I couldn’t really see very clearly.” She winced again when her hair was moved, some of it brushing against her shoulder. “As far as who attacked me… I genuinely don’t know. I think he followed me from one of the taverns I’d been in, and I was too drunk to notice.”
She grimaced at that, wishing she’d been more lucid to spot him before he’d pounced. Perhaps she might have avoided it or at least led him somewhere he could’ve been stopped sooner. “He tried to do… other… things, but another woman stepped in. Beat him off me, left him for nearly dead. I doubt I’ll be seeing him again.”
Shuddering as she thought back on the lewd look in the man’s eyes as he’d taken her down, reaching between his legs with the dark promise of what was to come, she shook her head to clear it of such thoughts. Lingering on what might have happened did her no good; she was lucky the enigmatic mute had intervened when she had. Gods only knew what might have been left of Nia if she hadn’t.
“So, what do you think?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder at Skylla. “Will it need stitches?”
Skylla didn't particularly care that the noblewoman was rather snotty with her. Snotty and defensive. She could get her revenge in any way she actually saw fit and brush it off as part of the healing process. But she wouldn't, because Nia had been attacked and Skylla was more than sure that the girl had learned a lesson as a result. Thankfully, Neithotep couldn't see the physician roll her eyes when the woman mentioned that she spent more time down in the tavern district than in the Palace. If Skylla had rolled them any harder, she might have blinded herself.
"Forgive me for my... crass nature, my lady," Skylla started absently as she observed the rather ragged wound. Had the blade been serated? This was rather bad and Skylla wondered how deep it was and how far she would have to go to clean it of dirt and debris. "But that seems much too far below your stature as a lady of your house," Skylla warned calmly, "Having been into the tavern district many times myself, I might suggest you avoid it from here on out. Specifically because you might be recognized by whoever attacked you later... if he's still alive, that is."
Skylla didn't shy away from the description of the attack, thinking for a moment about how she would have liked to witness the shock and pain on the face of the girl's attacker. What would she have done if she were the one to save Nia? Well, the physician was quite sure she could have cooked up some slow, agonizing death for the man. Then again, having your ass kicked by another woman and then left for dead was probably agonizing enough for a man. Such fragile egos they had. It was truly easy to emasculate one if you had a sharp enough tongue and enough fortitude to withstand the anger that often came with such insults.
"I only speak my mind out of concern for your furthered safety... and the fact that I am remiss to treat stupidity for a second time," Skylla said kindly, as if she just couldn't help but speak her mind in the sweetest way possible. Her tone conveyed no malice or annoyance. She was simply a busy woman who could not continuously concern herself with healing a woman prone to finding herself the same overt dangers again and again despite firm warnings and encouragements to avoid such situations. In essence, she had no time to deal with Neithotep's lack of common sense if something like this happened again. Not that she wouldn't heal the woman, but she might not be as kind a second time.
Shifting away from Nia's back, the physician moved back to the shelves that held different herbs and medicines. "It will, and I'll need to clean it before I stitch it... unless you want it to fester. Its going to hurt," Skylla added, silently taking pleasure in the fact that it would hurt. Not because she thought Nia had been stupid to be down in the tavern district alone, but because she genuinely liked to see people in pain. Blame her psychotic father, but pain did not scare her in the way that it did others. Coming back with some of her supplies, she eyed Nia's back. "You'll want to take the rest of your kalasiris off," she noted.
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Skylla didn't particularly care that the noblewoman was rather snotty with her. Snotty and defensive. She could get her revenge in any way she actually saw fit and brush it off as part of the healing process. But she wouldn't, because Nia had been attacked and Skylla was more than sure that the girl had learned a lesson as a result. Thankfully, Neithotep couldn't see the physician roll her eyes when the woman mentioned that she spent more time down in the tavern district than in the Palace. If Skylla had rolled them any harder, she might have blinded herself.
"Forgive me for my... crass nature, my lady," Skylla started absently as she observed the rather ragged wound. Had the blade been serated? This was rather bad and Skylla wondered how deep it was and how far she would have to go to clean it of dirt and debris. "But that seems much too far below your stature as a lady of your house," Skylla warned calmly, "Having been into the tavern district many times myself, I might suggest you avoid it from here on out. Specifically because you might be recognized by whoever attacked you later... if he's still alive, that is."
Skylla didn't shy away from the description of the attack, thinking for a moment about how she would have liked to witness the shock and pain on the face of the girl's attacker. What would she have done if she were the one to save Nia? Well, the physician was quite sure she could have cooked up some slow, agonizing death for the man. Then again, having your ass kicked by another woman and then left for dead was probably agonizing enough for a man. Such fragile egos they had. It was truly easy to emasculate one if you had a sharp enough tongue and enough fortitude to withstand the anger that often came with such insults.
"I only speak my mind out of concern for your furthered safety... and the fact that I am remiss to treat stupidity for a second time," Skylla said kindly, as if she just couldn't help but speak her mind in the sweetest way possible. Her tone conveyed no malice or annoyance. She was simply a busy woman who could not continuously concern herself with healing a woman prone to finding herself the same overt dangers again and again despite firm warnings and encouragements to avoid such situations. In essence, she had no time to deal with Neithotep's lack of common sense if something like this happened again. Not that she wouldn't heal the woman, but she might not be as kind a second time.
Shifting away from Nia's back, the physician moved back to the shelves that held different herbs and medicines. "It will, and I'll need to clean it before I stitch it... unless you want it to fester. Its going to hurt," Skylla added, silently taking pleasure in the fact that it would hurt. Not because she thought Nia had been stupid to be down in the tavern district alone, but because she genuinely liked to see people in pain. Blame her psychotic father, but pain did not scare her in the way that it did others. Coming back with some of her supplies, she eyed Nia's back. "You'll want to take the rest of your kalasiris off," she noted.
Skylla didn't particularly care that the noblewoman was rather snotty with her. Snotty and defensive. She could get her revenge in any way she actually saw fit and brush it off as part of the healing process. But she wouldn't, because Nia had been attacked and Skylla was more than sure that the girl had learned a lesson as a result. Thankfully, Neithotep couldn't see the physician roll her eyes when the woman mentioned that she spent more time down in the tavern district than in the Palace. If Skylla had rolled them any harder, she might have blinded herself.
"Forgive me for my... crass nature, my lady," Skylla started absently as she observed the rather ragged wound. Had the blade been serated? This was rather bad and Skylla wondered how deep it was and how far she would have to go to clean it of dirt and debris. "But that seems much too far below your stature as a lady of your house," Skylla warned calmly, "Having been into the tavern district many times myself, I might suggest you avoid it from here on out. Specifically because you might be recognized by whoever attacked you later... if he's still alive, that is."
Skylla didn't shy away from the description of the attack, thinking for a moment about how she would have liked to witness the shock and pain on the face of the girl's attacker. What would she have done if she were the one to save Nia? Well, the physician was quite sure she could have cooked up some slow, agonizing death for the man. Then again, having your ass kicked by another woman and then left for dead was probably agonizing enough for a man. Such fragile egos they had. It was truly easy to emasculate one if you had a sharp enough tongue and enough fortitude to withstand the anger that often came with such insults.
"I only speak my mind out of concern for your furthered safety... and the fact that I am remiss to treat stupidity for a second time," Skylla said kindly, as if she just couldn't help but speak her mind in the sweetest way possible. Her tone conveyed no malice or annoyance. She was simply a busy woman who could not continuously concern herself with healing a woman prone to finding herself the same overt dangers again and again despite firm warnings and encouragements to avoid such situations. In essence, she had no time to deal with Neithotep's lack of common sense if something like this happened again. Not that she wouldn't heal the woman, but she might not be as kind a second time.
Shifting away from Nia's back, the physician moved back to the shelves that held different herbs and medicines. "It will, and I'll need to clean it before I stitch it... unless you want it to fester. Its going to hurt," Skylla added, silently taking pleasure in the fact that it would hurt. Not because she thought Nia had been stupid to be down in the tavern district alone, but because she genuinely liked to see people in pain. Blame her psychotic father, but pain did not scare her in the way that it did others. Coming back with some of her supplies, she eyed Nia's back. "You'll want to take the rest of your kalasiris off," she noted.
Forgive me for my... crass nature, my lady, but that seems much too far below your stature as a lady of your house.
Nia made a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat—as if she hadn’t heard the same words out of a dozen other mouths. The young noblewoman didn’t care what was below her stature. Why should peasant women have the freedom to go where they pleased and not her? Like she’d said before, this had never happened in any of her previous visits to the tavern district, of which there were hundreds. What were the odds it would happen again?
Though, perhaps Skylla was right, at least to a certain extent. What if the man hadn’t died out there where Nyrlathotep left him? What if she went back and he was there waiting in the shadows? Somehow, she doubted the mute would materialize again, and even if she did, she was sure the man would be much more prepared. There was no way he’d risk being thwarted a second time.
Besides, such behavior was risky even without that particular threat dangling over her head. When Nia was under the influence, she was more likely in engage in… riskier… behavior, behavior that was sure to get her in trouble with the Pharaoh if she was caught. That was the last thing she wanted, especially after the last time she ‘got in trouble.’
I only speak my mind out of concern for your furthered safety... and the fact that I am remiss to treat stupidity for a second time.
Nia looked back over her shoulder at that, her eyebrow lifting ever so slightly. However, she could detect no real malice in the woman’s face—it was put forth in a matter-of-fact tone, and her expression reflected that. She debated for a moment whether or not to be offended, but in the end simply shrugged and turned away. She just didn’t have the energy.
“Pain doesn’t bother me that much any more,” she muttered almost without thinking at the physician’s assertion that the cleaning would hurt. It was true; the unspeakable acts the Pharaoh inflicted on her had all but desensitized her to most types of pain. There was little that could compare to the torture Iahotep inflicted on her all too frequently.
Dropping the rest of her kalasiris at Skylla’s insistence, Nia stiffened her posture and rolled her shoulders with a deep breath. Though she talked big about pain not affecting her, that didn’t mean she particularly relished the thought of it.
“Do what you have to do.”
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Forgive me for my... crass nature, my lady, but that seems much too far below your stature as a lady of your house.
Nia made a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat—as if she hadn’t heard the same words out of a dozen other mouths. The young noblewoman didn’t care what was below her stature. Why should peasant women have the freedom to go where they pleased and not her? Like she’d said before, this had never happened in any of her previous visits to the tavern district, of which there were hundreds. What were the odds it would happen again?
Though, perhaps Skylla was right, at least to a certain extent. What if the man hadn’t died out there where Nyrlathotep left him? What if she went back and he was there waiting in the shadows? Somehow, she doubted the mute would materialize again, and even if she did, she was sure the man would be much more prepared. There was no way he’d risk being thwarted a second time.
Besides, such behavior was risky even without that particular threat dangling over her head. When Nia was under the influence, she was more likely in engage in… riskier… behavior, behavior that was sure to get her in trouble with the Pharaoh if she was caught. That was the last thing she wanted, especially after the last time she ‘got in trouble.’
I only speak my mind out of concern for your furthered safety... and the fact that I am remiss to treat stupidity for a second time.
Nia looked back over her shoulder at that, her eyebrow lifting ever so slightly. However, she could detect no real malice in the woman’s face—it was put forth in a matter-of-fact tone, and her expression reflected that. She debated for a moment whether or not to be offended, but in the end simply shrugged and turned away. She just didn’t have the energy.
“Pain doesn’t bother me that much any more,” she muttered almost without thinking at the physician’s assertion that the cleaning would hurt. It was true; the unspeakable acts the Pharaoh inflicted on her had all but desensitized her to most types of pain. There was little that could compare to the torture Iahotep inflicted on her all too frequently.
Dropping the rest of her kalasiris at Skylla’s insistence, Nia stiffened her posture and rolled her shoulders with a deep breath. Though she talked big about pain not affecting her, that didn’t mean she particularly relished the thought of it.
“Do what you have to do.”
Forgive me for my... crass nature, my lady, but that seems much too far below your stature as a lady of your house.
Nia made a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat—as if she hadn’t heard the same words out of a dozen other mouths. The young noblewoman didn’t care what was below her stature. Why should peasant women have the freedom to go where they pleased and not her? Like she’d said before, this had never happened in any of her previous visits to the tavern district, of which there were hundreds. What were the odds it would happen again?
Though, perhaps Skylla was right, at least to a certain extent. What if the man hadn’t died out there where Nyrlathotep left him? What if she went back and he was there waiting in the shadows? Somehow, she doubted the mute would materialize again, and even if she did, she was sure the man would be much more prepared. There was no way he’d risk being thwarted a second time.
Besides, such behavior was risky even without that particular threat dangling over her head. When Nia was under the influence, she was more likely in engage in… riskier… behavior, behavior that was sure to get her in trouble with the Pharaoh if she was caught. That was the last thing she wanted, especially after the last time she ‘got in trouble.’
I only speak my mind out of concern for your furthered safety... and the fact that I am remiss to treat stupidity for a second time.
Nia looked back over her shoulder at that, her eyebrow lifting ever so slightly. However, she could detect no real malice in the woman’s face—it was put forth in a matter-of-fact tone, and her expression reflected that. She debated for a moment whether or not to be offended, but in the end simply shrugged and turned away. She just didn’t have the energy.
“Pain doesn’t bother me that much any more,” she muttered almost without thinking at the physician’s assertion that the cleaning would hurt. It was true; the unspeakable acts the Pharaoh inflicted on her had all but desensitized her to most types of pain. There was little that could compare to the torture Iahotep inflicted on her all too frequently.
Dropping the rest of her kalasiris at Skylla’s insistence, Nia stiffened her posture and rolled her shoulders with a deep breath. Though she talked big about pain not affecting her, that didn’t mean she particularly relished the thought of it.
“Do what you have to do.”
The girl seemed apt to listen, but there was something in the way that Lady Nia stated that pain did not bother her anymore than made Skylla pause for a moment. Even in the dim light of her laboratory the physician was now searching for things generally unseen. Bruises that shouldn't have been there, marks that would have been damning evidence to something far more sinister than Skylla would have generally expected. Maybe it was hypocritical, but Skylla was pleased with herself when she was a general menace. Other people? That wasn't exactly allowed in her book.
Breathing deeply through her nose, she came back with what little fresh water she still had from the day's work. She would work slowly so make sure every inch of the wound was clean so that it would cause Nia fewer problems so long as she came back and had her bandages changed frequently enough to avoid festering.
Using her foot, the physician dragged a stool from her workbench up so that she could settle behind Nia while she worked. She didn't sit on it, but she did kneel so that she could lean over the woman's back. Taking a piece of clean cloth and some of the water, she started to pour it into the wound, her dark eyes focused on her task, but her mind not. This was something that was second nature to her anymore, leaving her free to let her mind wander as she pleased.
"You say that pain doesn't bother you much anymore, Lady Neithotep," Skylla tested the waters quietly, her dark brows furrowed in quiet interest, though Nia couldn't see the darkening expression on her face. "I thought you stated that this sort of thing has not happened before?" she murmured, sure she had caught the young woman in a lie or a fib of some sort. Her hands worked to dab the wound a few times before she poured a little more water against Nia's skin.
"Or is there something else that causes you pain? Someone else?" Skylla murmured quietly, leaning slightly to the side so that she could get better lighting on Nia's shoulder. "Need I express to the Pharaoh that I am concerned that someone is abusing noble ladies?" she finally added, pausing long enough that it would allow Nia to look back at her and look her in the eye. A courtesy, and because Skylla wanted to see whether the girl would tell her the truth or if she would have to hunt further for answers.
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The girl seemed apt to listen, but there was something in the way that Lady Nia stated that pain did not bother her anymore than made Skylla pause for a moment. Even in the dim light of her laboratory the physician was now searching for things generally unseen. Bruises that shouldn't have been there, marks that would have been damning evidence to something far more sinister than Skylla would have generally expected. Maybe it was hypocritical, but Skylla was pleased with herself when she was a general menace. Other people? That wasn't exactly allowed in her book.
Breathing deeply through her nose, she came back with what little fresh water she still had from the day's work. She would work slowly so make sure every inch of the wound was clean so that it would cause Nia fewer problems so long as she came back and had her bandages changed frequently enough to avoid festering.
Using her foot, the physician dragged a stool from her workbench up so that she could settle behind Nia while she worked. She didn't sit on it, but she did kneel so that she could lean over the woman's back. Taking a piece of clean cloth and some of the water, she started to pour it into the wound, her dark eyes focused on her task, but her mind not. This was something that was second nature to her anymore, leaving her free to let her mind wander as she pleased.
"You say that pain doesn't bother you much anymore, Lady Neithotep," Skylla tested the waters quietly, her dark brows furrowed in quiet interest, though Nia couldn't see the darkening expression on her face. "I thought you stated that this sort of thing has not happened before?" she murmured, sure she had caught the young woman in a lie or a fib of some sort. Her hands worked to dab the wound a few times before she poured a little more water against Nia's skin.
"Or is there something else that causes you pain? Someone else?" Skylla murmured quietly, leaning slightly to the side so that she could get better lighting on Nia's shoulder. "Need I express to the Pharaoh that I am concerned that someone is abusing noble ladies?" she finally added, pausing long enough that it would allow Nia to look back at her and look her in the eye. A courtesy, and because Skylla wanted to see whether the girl would tell her the truth or if she would have to hunt further for answers.
The girl seemed apt to listen, but there was something in the way that Lady Nia stated that pain did not bother her anymore than made Skylla pause for a moment. Even in the dim light of her laboratory the physician was now searching for things generally unseen. Bruises that shouldn't have been there, marks that would have been damning evidence to something far more sinister than Skylla would have generally expected. Maybe it was hypocritical, but Skylla was pleased with herself when she was a general menace. Other people? That wasn't exactly allowed in her book.
Breathing deeply through her nose, she came back with what little fresh water she still had from the day's work. She would work slowly so make sure every inch of the wound was clean so that it would cause Nia fewer problems so long as she came back and had her bandages changed frequently enough to avoid festering.
Using her foot, the physician dragged a stool from her workbench up so that she could settle behind Nia while she worked. She didn't sit on it, but she did kneel so that she could lean over the woman's back. Taking a piece of clean cloth and some of the water, she started to pour it into the wound, her dark eyes focused on her task, but her mind not. This was something that was second nature to her anymore, leaving her free to let her mind wander as she pleased.
"You say that pain doesn't bother you much anymore, Lady Neithotep," Skylla tested the waters quietly, her dark brows furrowed in quiet interest, though Nia couldn't see the darkening expression on her face. "I thought you stated that this sort of thing has not happened before?" she murmured, sure she had caught the young woman in a lie or a fib of some sort. Her hands worked to dab the wound a few times before she poured a little more water against Nia's skin.
"Or is there something else that causes you pain? Someone else?" Skylla murmured quietly, leaning slightly to the side so that she could get better lighting on Nia's shoulder. "Need I express to the Pharaoh that I am concerned that someone is abusing noble ladies?" she finally added, pausing long enough that it would allow Nia to look back at her and look her in the eye. A courtesy, and because Skylla wanted to see whether the girl would tell her the truth or if she would have to hunt further for answers.
Nia didn’t even so much as wince when the water sluiced over her shoulder, dull eyes fixed on a single point on the far wall. She let her mind drift off to somewhere else as she so often did when she was in pain, disconnecting from physical sensation and reconnecting to the spiritual. Nothing could hurt her if she didn’t let it, and it was much easier to form that dissociation when she wasn’t being violated simultaneously. This was nothing compared to what had left the scattered bruises and welts across her back.
In her own head, she lounged near the Nile, honey dripping in her mouth as the sun caressed her skin. There was nothing but warmth and pleasure, the cloying sweetness on her tongue mingling with the sunlight enveloping her. It was an idyllic scene, with a river breeze teasing at her hair and drawing goosebumps along her flesh. If only she could linger there forever.
Unfortunately, Skylla’s voice brought her back to the present, making her realize she’d said just a little too much. She was so used to people who looked at her but refused to really listen, that she didn’t even think twice when she dropped such flippant comments. How was she to know the physician would pick up on something deeper in her speech?
Swallowing hard, she shook her head. “It’s nothing,” she insisted, perhaps a little too quickly. “I spoke without thinking, forgive me. The bane of my existence, I’m afraid. Truly, I didn’t mean anything by it.” A fine sheen of sweat gathered on her forehead, something which could be easily attributed to Skylla working at her wound rather than the anxiety caused by her own loose tongue.
Need I express to the Pharaoh that I am concerned that someone is abusing noble ladies?
The young noblewoman froze almost imperceptibly at that, mind racing to find an answer that wouldn’t sound suspicious. She couldn’t exactly reveal that it was the Pharaoh himself who abused her, not without putting herself or the healer at risk.
“There is no need to bother the King of Kings with such nonsense,” Nia insisted, shaking her head and refusing to meet Skylla’s gaze. “He is far too busy to concern himself with my trivial worries. The casual complaints of a noble family’s middle child hardly compare to the trials and tribulations of the entire kingdom.”
She thought she sounded convincing enough and prayed that the other woman would simply drop it. Gods, if she said something to Iahotep, and he suspected she’d revealed him… A subtle shiver ran down her spine. Nia didn’t even want to think of what would happen then.
Glancing back over her shoulder, Nia made a show of impatience, eager for this to be over and to get away from the physician’s prying questions. “Are you almost finished? I’m going to be late for supper.”
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Nia didn’t even so much as wince when the water sluiced over her shoulder, dull eyes fixed on a single point on the far wall. She let her mind drift off to somewhere else as she so often did when she was in pain, disconnecting from physical sensation and reconnecting to the spiritual. Nothing could hurt her if she didn’t let it, and it was much easier to form that dissociation when she wasn’t being violated simultaneously. This was nothing compared to what had left the scattered bruises and welts across her back.
In her own head, she lounged near the Nile, honey dripping in her mouth as the sun caressed her skin. There was nothing but warmth and pleasure, the cloying sweetness on her tongue mingling with the sunlight enveloping her. It was an idyllic scene, with a river breeze teasing at her hair and drawing goosebumps along her flesh. If only she could linger there forever.
Unfortunately, Skylla’s voice brought her back to the present, making her realize she’d said just a little too much. She was so used to people who looked at her but refused to really listen, that she didn’t even think twice when she dropped such flippant comments. How was she to know the physician would pick up on something deeper in her speech?
Swallowing hard, she shook her head. “It’s nothing,” she insisted, perhaps a little too quickly. “I spoke without thinking, forgive me. The bane of my existence, I’m afraid. Truly, I didn’t mean anything by it.” A fine sheen of sweat gathered on her forehead, something which could be easily attributed to Skylla working at her wound rather than the anxiety caused by her own loose tongue.
Need I express to the Pharaoh that I am concerned that someone is abusing noble ladies?
The young noblewoman froze almost imperceptibly at that, mind racing to find an answer that wouldn’t sound suspicious. She couldn’t exactly reveal that it was the Pharaoh himself who abused her, not without putting herself or the healer at risk.
“There is no need to bother the King of Kings with such nonsense,” Nia insisted, shaking her head and refusing to meet Skylla’s gaze. “He is far too busy to concern himself with my trivial worries. The casual complaints of a noble family’s middle child hardly compare to the trials and tribulations of the entire kingdom.”
She thought she sounded convincing enough and prayed that the other woman would simply drop it. Gods, if she said something to Iahotep, and he suspected she’d revealed him… A subtle shiver ran down her spine. Nia didn’t even want to think of what would happen then.
Glancing back over her shoulder, Nia made a show of impatience, eager for this to be over and to get away from the physician’s prying questions. “Are you almost finished? I’m going to be late for supper.”
Nia didn’t even so much as wince when the water sluiced over her shoulder, dull eyes fixed on a single point on the far wall. She let her mind drift off to somewhere else as she so often did when she was in pain, disconnecting from physical sensation and reconnecting to the spiritual. Nothing could hurt her if she didn’t let it, and it was much easier to form that dissociation when she wasn’t being violated simultaneously. This was nothing compared to what had left the scattered bruises and welts across her back.
In her own head, she lounged near the Nile, honey dripping in her mouth as the sun caressed her skin. There was nothing but warmth and pleasure, the cloying sweetness on her tongue mingling with the sunlight enveloping her. It was an idyllic scene, with a river breeze teasing at her hair and drawing goosebumps along her flesh. If only she could linger there forever.
Unfortunately, Skylla’s voice brought her back to the present, making her realize she’d said just a little too much. She was so used to people who looked at her but refused to really listen, that she didn’t even think twice when she dropped such flippant comments. How was she to know the physician would pick up on something deeper in her speech?
Swallowing hard, she shook her head. “It’s nothing,” she insisted, perhaps a little too quickly. “I spoke without thinking, forgive me. The bane of my existence, I’m afraid. Truly, I didn’t mean anything by it.” A fine sheen of sweat gathered on her forehead, something which could be easily attributed to Skylla working at her wound rather than the anxiety caused by her own loose tongue.
Need I express to the Pharaoh that I am concerned that someone is abusing noble ladies?
The young noblewoman froze almost imperceptibly at that, mind racing to find an answer that wouldn’t sound suspicious. She couldn’t exactly reveal that it was the Pharaoh himself who abused her, not without putting herself or the healer at risk.
“There is no need to bother the King of Kings with such nonsense,” Nia insisted, shaking her head and refusing to meet Skylla’s gaze. “He is far too busy to concern himself with my trivial worries. The casual complaints of a noble family’s middle child hardly compare to the trials and tribulations of the entire kingdom.”
She thought she sounded convincing enough and prayed that the other woman would simply drop it. Gods, if she said something to Iahotep, and he suspected she’d revealed him… A subtle shiver ran down her spine. Nia didn’t even want to think of what would happen then.
Glancing back over her shoulder, Nia made a show of impatience, eager for this to be over and to get away from the physician’s prying questions. “Are you almost finished? I’m going to be late for supper.”
Skylla could tell that her probing words were hitting hard with the younger woman. What Nia thought that Skylla did not see, she did. The very slight signs of a woman who wanted to admit nothing, who wanted to say absolutely nothing that could damn those who plagued them. The way that Nia even backpedaled had Skylla lift her head slightly from behind Nia's back, her gaze no longer resting on the wound that she was working on cleaning, but the back of Nia's head. As if she were trying to read the girl's thoughts and figure out what information was important and what wasn't.
Someone abusing the noble ladies of the court was certainly something to be concerned about. Who knew if someone could do the same to the queen and her unborn baby? Then it would be Skylla's neck on the line... and they couldn't have that. Wouldn't have that. Not here and now. Never. Skylla was sure that she'd leave someone with their entrails scattered across the marble as a sacrifice to Hades before she allowed anyone to harm the queen... and by relation, Callidora and Skylla herself.
"I was under the impression that all noble ladies had better control of their mouths," Skylla commented, finding no reason not to be straightforward with the girl. Nia did not seem like the type that required people to be sweet as honey and fake with her. So Skylla refused to be. Some ladies liked the dose of reality that a candid nature brought them. "At least, the noble ladies in my own Kingdom tend to be very stoic. I am finding that the same cannot be said about Egyptian ladies. You all are such a passionate bunch."
Skylla looked back to the wound, pouring a little more of the fresh water on her skin to ensure that the last few dirty bits were clean. Then she reached for the needle and thread she would use to close the wound. She held the needle over the flame of a candle beside her, letting it heat up. "I'm nearly done, but I still must stitch the wound unless you wish to bleed all the way back to your home, my lady," Skylla commented, "I just hope that you stay safe this time around. I would... perhaps like to know what dangers lurk around the corners of this palace if that is information you have. I do not claim to be an innocent soul, but it will be best for myself and my... family if I kept my name as clear as possible while serving Egypt."
The admission of threat from the Pharaoh hunt almost imperceptibly in the air.
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Skylla could tell that her probing words were hitting hard with the younger woman. What Nia thought that Skylla did not see, she did. The very slight signs of a woman who wanted to admit nothing, who wanted to say absolutely nothing that could damn those who plagued them. The way that Nia even backpedaled had Skylla lift her head slightly from behind Nia's back, her gaze no longer resting on the wound that she was working on cleaning, but the back of Nia's head. As if she were trying to read the girl's thoughts and figure out what information was important and what wasn't.
Someone abusing the noble ladies of the court was certainly something to be concerned about. Who knew if someone could do the same to the queen and her unborn baby? Then it would be Skylla's neck on the line... and they couldn't have that. Wouldn't have that. Not here and now. Never. Skylla was sure that she'd leave someone with their entrails scattered across the marble as a sacrifice to Hades before she allowed anyone to harm the queen... and by relation, Callidora and Skylla herself.
"I was under the impression that all noble ladies had better control of their mouths," Skylla commented, finding no reason not to be straightforward with the girl. Nia did not seem like the type that required people to be sweet as honey and fake with her. So Skylla refused to be. Some ladies liked the dose of reality that a candid nature brought them. "At least, the noble ladies in my own Kingdom tend to be very stoic. I am finding that the same cannot be said about Egyptian ladies. You all are such a passionate bunch."
Skylla looked back to the wound, pouring a little more of the fresh water on her skin to ensure that the last few dirty bits were clean. Then she reached for the needle and thread she would use to close the wound. She held the needle over the flame of a candle beside her, letting it heat up. "I'm nearly done, but I still must stitch the wound unless you wish to bleed all the way back to your home, my lady," Skylla commented, "I just hope that you stay safe this time around. I would... perhaps like to know what dangers lurk around the corners of this palace if that is information you have. I do not claim to be an innocent soul, but it will be best for myself and my... family if I kept my name as clear as possible while serving Egypt."
The admission of threat from the Pharaoh hunt almost imperceptibly in the air.
Skylla could tell that her probing words were hitting hard with the younger woman. What Nia thought that Skylla did not see, she did. The very slight signs of a woman who wanted to admit nothing, who wanted to say absolutely nothing that could damn those who plagued them. The way that Nia even backpedaled had Skylla lift her head slightly from behind Nia's back, her gaze no longer resting on the wound that she was working on cleaning, but the back of Nia's head. As if she were trying to read the girl's thoughts and figure out what information was important and what wasn't.
Someone abusing the noble ladies of the court was certainly something to be concerned about. Who knew if someone could do the same to the queen and her unborn baby? Then it would be Skylla's neck on the line... and they couldn't have that. Wouldn't have that. Not here and now. Never. Skylla was sure that she'd leave someone with their entrails scattered across the marble as a sacrifice to Hades before she allowed anyone to harm the queen... and by relation, Callidora and Skylla herself.
"I was under the impression that all noble ladies had better control of their mouths," Skylla commented, finding no reason not to be straightforward with the girl. Nia did not seem like the type that required people to be sweet as honey and fake with her. So Skylla refused to be. Some ladies liked the dose of reality that a candid nature brought them. "At least, the noble ladies in my own Kingdom tend to be very stoic. I am finding that the same cannot be said about Egyptian ladies. You all are such a passionate bunch."
Skylla looked back to the wound, pouring a little more of the fresh water on her skin to ensure that the last few dirty bits were clean. Then she reached for the needle and thread she would use to close the wound. She held the needle over the flame of a candle beside her, letting it heat up. "I'm nearly done, but I still must stitch the wound unless you wish to bleed all the way back to your home, my lady," Skylla commented, "I just hope that you stay safe this time around. I would... perhaps like to know what dangers lurk around the corners of this palace if that is information you have. I do not claim to be an innocent soul, but it will be best for myself and my... family if I kept my name as clear as possible while serving Egypt."
The admission of threat from the Pharaoh hunt almost imperceptibly in the air.
I was under the impression that all noble ladies had better control of their mouths.
Nia perhaps should have been offended by Skylla’s bluntness, but as the healer thought herself, she didn’t care much for the lying flattery that most lavished upon those of her status. “I’m not like most noble ladies,” she forced out through gritted teeth, and that much, at least, was true. Nia was certainly not cut from the same cloth as most of her countrymen. Most of the time, she thought of that as a good thing, but lately, she was starting to wonder.
“And you’re right. We are not much like the Greeks, either.” While Egypt was overall a very xenophobic nation, Nia herself was different. She probably had more foreign lovers throughout her life than she did of her own race; little did she know, she even shared at least one with the woman tending her. “Some might say it’s better that way. Myself, I don’t know.”
Perhaps if she was more stoic, she wouldn’t be on the verge of inadvertently revealing such a dark secret. As it was, she reminded herself to keep her tongue more closely guarded before disaster was sure to strike.
When Skylla mentioned needing to stitch her wound, Nia grimaced. Of course, she did. Why couldn’t it be her luck that the wound was shallow enough not to need such attention? But, no, such was never to be her fortune, especially lately. Whenever she questioned whether things could get worse, they proved they certainly could. Would she ever catch a break?
As the physician went on speaking, the noblewoman stiffened further. Her comments were subtle, yet still pointed, questioning her without questioning her. What did the woman really expect she’d reveal? She had already made her discomfort abundantly clear, however unintentional. If she was so uncomfortable, did Skylla honestly think she would so easily come out with the reason?
But on the same vein, what if Skylla herself was in trouble? What if this was her indirect way of revealing her own abuse? Did Iahotep touch her too? Was Nia merely one of many?
Turning to look over her shoulder, she sought Skylla’s gaze, searching it for any hint of where this line of inquiry was going. Was she asking her for help in some roundabout way? Just how much did she really know?
“Just watch your back,” Nia finally said; she had no idea of this woman’s motives, or if she was even a spy for the Pharaoh himself. She did not dare to say more. “And keep an eye on your family. If there are those who wish you and yours ill… many have the power to do so.” Was that enough admission for her? Would she finally let it drop?
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I was under the impression that all noble ladies had better control of their mouths.
Nia perhaps should have been offended by Skylla’s bluntness, but as the healer thought herself, she didn’t care much for the lying flattery that most lavished upon those of her status. “I’m not like most noble ladies,” she forced out through gritted teeth, and that much, at least, was true. Nia was certainly not cut from the same cloth as most of her countrymen. Most of the time, she thought of that as a good thing, but lately, she was starting to wonder.
“And you’re right. We are not much like the Greeks, either.” While Egypt was overall a very xenophobic nation, Nia herself was different. She probably had more foreign lovers throughout her life than she did of her own race; little did she know, she even shared at least one with the woman tending her. “Some might say it’s better that way. Myself, I don’t know.”
Perhaps if she was more stoic, she wouldn’t be on the verge of inadvertently revealing such a dark secret. As it was, she reminded herself to keep her tongue more closely guarded before disaster was sure to strike.
When Skylla mentioned needing to stitch her wound, Nia grimaced. Of course, she did. Why couldn’t it be her luck that the wound was shallow enough not to need such attention? But, no, such was never to be her fortune, especially lately. Whenever she questioned whether things could get worse, they proved they certainly could. Would she ever catch a break?
As the physician went on speaking, the noblewoman stiffened further. Her comments were subtle, yet still pointed, questioning her without questioning her. What did the woman really expect she’d reveal? She had already made her discomfort abundantly clear, however unintentional. If she was so uncomfortable, did Skylla honestly think she would so easily come out with the reason?
But on the same vein, what if Skylla herself was in trouble? What if this was her indirect way of revealing her own abuse? Did Iahotep touch her too? Was Nia merely one of many?
Turning to look over her shoulder, she sought Skylla’s gaze, searching it for any hint of where this line of inquiry was going. Was she asking her for help in some roundabout way? Just how much did she really know?
“Just watch your back,” Nia finally said; she had no idea of this woman’s motives, or if she was even a spy for the Pharaoh himself. She did not dare to say more. “And keep an eye on your family. If there are those who wish you and yours ill… many have the power to do so.” Was that enough admission for her? Would she finally let it drop?
I was under the impression that all noble ladies had better control of their mouths.
Nia perhaps should have been offended by Skylla’s bluntness, but as the healer thought herself, she didn’t care much for the lying flattery that most lavished upon those of her status. “I’m not like most noble ladies,” she forced out through gritted teeth, and that much, at least, was true. Nia was certainly not cut from the same cloth as most of her countrymen. Most of the time, she thought of that as a good thing, but lately, she was starting to wonder.
“And you’re right. We are not much like the Greeks, either.” While Egypt was overall a very xenophobic nation, Nia herself was different. She probably had more foreign lovers throughout her life than she did of her own race; little did she know, she even shared at least one with the woman tending her. “Some might say it’s better that way. Myself, I don’t know.”
Perhaps if she was more stoic, she wouldn’t be on the verge of inadvertently revealing such a dark secret. As it was, she reminded herself to keep her tongue more closely guarded before disaster was sure to strike.
When Skylla mentioned needing to stitch her wound, Nia grimaced. Of course, she did. Why couldn’t it be her luck that the wound was shallow enough not to need such attention? But, no, such was never to be her fortune, especially lately. Whenever she questioned whether things could get worse, they proved they certainly could. Would she ever catch a break?
As the physician went on speaking, the noblewoman stiffened further. Her comments were subtle, yet still pointed, questioning her without questioning her. What did the woman really expect she’d reveal? She had already made her discomfort abundantly clear, however unintentional. If she was so uncomfortable, did Skylla honestly think she would so easily come out with the reason?
But on the same vein, what if Skylla herself was in trouble? What if this was her indirect way of revealing her own abuse? Did Iahotep touch her too? Was Nia merely one of many?
Turning to look over her shoulder, she sought Skylla’s gaze, searching it for any hint of where this line of inquiry was going. Was she asking her for help in some roundabout way? Just how much did she really know?
“Just watch your back,” Nia finally said; she had no idea of this woman’s motives, or if she was even a spy for the Pharaoh himself. She did not dare to say more. “And keep an eye on your family. If there are those who wish you and yours ill… many have the power to do so.” Was that enough admission for her? Would she finally let it drop?
Skylla set about readying the needle and thread, moving slightly to light the candle on the table to her side. This would likely hurt more than the knife wound itself, but if it was not stitched, it could fester. It would also ensure that the wounds remained closed and would not gather more impurities than it already had. In this case, bleeding wasn't needed. She was already bleeding and the knife wound was just deep enough to require a bit of help in the healing process. After the questions that Skylla had posed to the woman, the physician had just expected silence.
Lady Nia was already not very forthcoming, so she didn't expect any assistance as to Skylla's own position. That was generally how things worked around here. No one was willing to open their mouths to help others, even if the help could be mutually beneficial. But then Lady Nia was turning her head to fix her with her molten stare and Skylla was sitting up a little straighter, unable to help the breath that caught in her throat.
For a moment, that was the same look that Callidora would give her when being inquisitive and her heart clenched so sharply she thought she might be sick to her stomach. Swallowing hard, Skylla dragged her gaze back to her work while Nia spoke. This was the perfect opportunity to start her work because Nia would be distracted with speaking to her instead of the feeling of the thread needling through her skin. Holding the needle over the flame of the small candle, she ensured it was clean before she started the hopefully quick process of stitching her ward's skin back together from the knife wound.
While Skylla worked, she digested the words that Nia spoke. "I am sure that it is no secret why I am here," Skylla said slowly, "Homosexuality is crime punishable by death, but it is not my life that I am trying to keep safe. I thank you for your guidance, Lady H'Sheifa," Skylla said in a tone that was both resigned and official. Thinking about Dora hurt too much and she needed to keep her hand steady if this was to heal without a scar. "I smiply pray that you may also take your own advice. Never leave your back open for someone to put a knife in it," she noted as she worked through the last bit of stitching on the wound.
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Skylla set about readying the needle and thread, moving slightly to light the candle on the table to her side. This would likely hurt more than the knife wound itself, but if it was not stitched, it could fester. It would also ensure that the wounds remained closed and would not gather more impurities than it already had. In this case, bleeding wasn't needed. She was already bleeding and the knife wound was just deep enough to require a bit of help in the healing process. After the questions that Skylla had posed to the woman, the physician had just expected silence.
Lady Nia was already not very forthcoming, so she didn't expect any assistance as to Skylla's own position. That was generally how things worked around here. No one was willing to open their mouths to help others, even if the help could be mutually beneficial. But then Lady Nia was turning her head to fix her with her molten stare and Skylla was sitting up a little straighter, unable to help the breath that caught in her throat.
For a moment, that was the same look that Callidora would give her when being inquisitive and her heart clenched so sharply she thought she might be sick to her stomach. Swallowing hard, Skylla dragged her gaze back to her work while Nia spoke. This was the perfect opportunity to start her work because Nia would be distracted with speaking to her instead of the feeling of the thread needling through her skin. Holding the needle over the flame of the small candle, she ensured it was clean before she started the hopefully quick process of stitching her ward's skin back together from the knife wound.
While Skylla worked, she digested the words that Nia spoke. "I am sure that it is no secret why I am here," Skylla said slowly, "Homosexuality is crime punishable by death, but it is not my life that I am trying to keep safe. I thank you for your guidance, Lady H'Sheifa," Skylla said in a tone that was both resigned and official. Thinking about Dora hurt too much and she needed to keep her hand steady if this was to heal without a scar. "I smiply pray that you may also take your own advice. Never leave your back open for someone to put a knife in it," she noted as she worked through the last bit of stitching on the wound.
Skylla set about readying the needle and thread, moving slightly to light the candle on the table to her side. This would likely hurt more than the knife wound itself, but if it was not stitched, it could fester. It would also ensure that the wounds remained closed and would not gather more impurities than it already had. In this case, bleeding wasn't needed. She was already bleeding and the knife wound was just deep enough to require a bit of help in the healing process. After the questions that Skylla had posed to the woman, the physician had just expected silence.
Lady Nia was already not very forthcoming, so she didn't expect any assistance as to Skylla's own position. That was generally how things worked around here. No one was willing to open their mouths to help others, even if the help could be mutually beneficial. But then Lady Nia was turning her head to fix her with her molten stare and Skylla was sitting up a little straighter, unable to help the breath that caught in her throat.
For a moment, that was the same look that Callidora would give her when being inquisitive and her heart clenched so sharply she thought she might be sick to her stomach. Swallowing hard, Skylla dragged her gaze back to her work while Nia spoke. This was the perfect opportunity to start her work because Nia would be distracted with speaking to her instead of the feeling of the thread needling through her skin. Holding the needle over the flame of the small candle, she ensured it was clean before she started the hopefully quick process of stitching her ward's skin back together from the knife wound.
While Skylla worked, she digested the words that Nia spoke. "I am sure that it is no secret why I am here," Skylla said slowly, "Homosexuality is crime punishable by death, but it is not my life that I am trying to keep safe. I thank you for your guidance, Lady H'Sheifa," Skylla said in a tone that was both resigned and official. Thinking about Dora hurt too much and she needed to keep her hand steady if this was to heal without a scar. "I smiply pray that you may also take your own advice. Never leave your back open for someone to put a knife in it," she noted as she worked through the last bit of stitching on the wound.
Nia’s breath hissed between her teeth when the needle entered her skin; distracted or not, it still hurt like a bitch. Granted, she had endured far worse pain than this in the recent weeks, but that certainly didn’t make this feel good. Gripping the edge of a nearby table, nonetheless, she held still—focused on one breath at a time until the physician was done with her work.
She had heard rumors of the woman’s proclivities, of course; or well, she had heard the rumors, but never had a face to put to it until tonight. While the notion made her… uncomfortable, she didn’t think it necessarily warranted death. When Skylla spoke of the one she was protecting, it wasn’t hard to make a jump as to who that ‘someone’ must be. Of course, the healer hadn’t performed such an act alone, and her lover had to be out there somewhere.
“If you care about her at all, you’ll keep her far away from here,” Nia’s tone was low and even, keeping her face turned away and her voice quiet as she issued her warning. “And you’d be wise to do the same, as soon as you can.” She turned her head just enough to see Skylla out of the corner of her eye. “Hyenas prowl these halls. There is nowhere safe in the Evening Star Palace, not for you, not for her, not for anyone. Never forget that.”
I simply pray that you may also take your own advice. Never leave your back open for someone to put a knife in it.
“I wish it was that easy,” she murmured as she turned her head away, experimentally moving her arm when Skylla finished stitching her shoulder. Wincing slightly at the motion, she sighed. At least it was better than an open gash. Pulling her kalasiris back up around her torso, she shook her head. “I would happily follow my own advice if it were.” Gesturing vaguely toward her shoulder, she added, “This could have been avoided, I suppose, but there are other knives that aren’t so… easily deflected.”
She would not say more than that; she had already said too much, as it was. Turning around so she could face the woman that patched her up, Nia respectfully inclined her head to the healer. “Thank you for your help, Mistress Skylla. And your advice. I will try to be more careful in the future.” There was a softness in her face as she offered a gentle smile, reaching out to lightly tap her arm. “You do the same. You and your… loved ones.”
Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, Nia turned toward the door. “I will do my best not to have to seek you out. If I do not see you again any time soon… best of luck, ma’am.” Nodding to her, she made to exit, pausing briefly in the doorframe.
“Thank you. Truly. And be careful.”
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Nia’s breath hissed between her teeth when the needle entered her skin; distracted or not, it still hurt like a bitch. Granted, she had endured far worse pain than this in the recent weeks, but that certainly didn’t make this feel good. Gripping the edge of a nearby table, nonetheless, she held still—focused on one breath at a time until the physician was done with her work.
She had heard rumors of the woman’s proclivities, of course; or well, she had heard the rumors, but never had a face to put to it until tonight. While the notion made her… uncomfortable, she didn’t think it necessarily warranted death. When Skylla spoke of the one she was protecting, it wasn’t hard to make a jump as to who that ‘someone’ must be. Of course, the healer hadn’t performed such an act alone, and her lover had to be out there somewhere.
“If you care about her at all, you’ll keep her far away from here,” Nia’s tone was low and even, keeping her face turned away and her voice quiet as she issued her warning. “And you’d be wise to do the same, as soon as you can.” She turned her head just enough to see Skylla out of the corner of her eye. “Hyenas prowl these halls. There is nowhere safe in the Evening Star Palace, not for you, not for her, not for anyone. Never forget that.”
I simply pray that you may also take your own advice. Never leave your back open for someone to put a knife in it.
“I wish it was that easy,” she murmured as she turned her head away, experimentally moving her arm when Skylla finished stitching her shoulder. Wincing slightly at the motion, she sighed. At least it was better than an open gash. Pulling her kalasiris back up around her torso, she shook her head. “I would happily follow my own advice if it were.” Gesturing vaguely toward her shoulder, she added, “This could have been avoided, I suppose, but there are other knives that aren’t so… easily deflected.”
She would not say more than that; she had already said too much, as it was. Turning around so she could face the woman that patched her up, Nia respectfully inclined her head to the healer. “Thank you for your help, Mistress Skylla. And your advice. I will try to be more careful in the future.” There was a softness in her face as she offered a gentle smile, reaching out to lightly tap her arm. “You do the same. You and your… loved ones.”
Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, Nia turned toward the door. “I will do my best not to have to seek you out. If I do not see you again any time soon… best of luck, ma’am.” Nodding to her, she made to exit, pausing briefly in the doorframe.
“Thank you. Truly. And be careful.”
Nia’s breath hissed between her teeth when the needle entered her skin; distracted or not, it still hurt like a bitch. Granted, she had endured far worse pain than this in the recent weeks, but that certainly didn’t make this feel good. Gripping the edge of a nearby table, nonetheless, she held still—focused on one breath at a time until the physician was done with her work.
She had heard rumors of the woman’s proclivities, of course; or well, she had heard the rumors, but never had a face to put to it until tonight. While the notion made her… uncomfortable, she didn’t think it necessarily warranted death. When Skylla spoke of the one she was protecting, it wasn’t hard to make a jump as to who that ‘someone’ must be. Of course, the healer hadn’t performed such an act alone, and her lover had to be out there somewhere.
“If you care about her at all, you’ll keep her far away from here,” Nia’s tone was low and even, keeping her face turned away and her voice quiet as she issued her warning. “And you’d be wise to do the same, as soon as you can.” She turned her head just enough to see Skylla out of the corner of her eye. “Hyenas prowl these halls. There is nowhere safe in the Evening Star Palace, not for you, not for her, not for anyone. Never forget that.”
I simply pray that you may also take your own advice. Never leave your back open for someone to put a knife in it.
“I wish it was that easy,” she murmured as she turned her head away, experimentally moving her arm when Skylla finished stitching her shoulder. Wincing slightly at the motion, she sighed. At least it was better than an open gash. Pulling her kalasiris back up around her torso, she shook her head. “I would happily follow my own advice if it were.” Gesturing vaguely toward her shoulder, she added, “This could have been avoided, I suppose, but there are other knives that aren’t so… easily deflected.”
She would not say more than that; she had already said too much, as it was. Turning around so she could face the woman that patched her up, Nia respectfully inclined her head to the healer. “Thank you for your help, Mistress Skylla. And your advice. I will try to be more careful in the future.” There was a softness in her face as she offered a gentle smile, reaching out to lightly tap her arm. “You do the same. You and your… loved ones.”
Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, Nia turned toward the door. “I will do my best not to have to seek you out. If I do not see you again any time soon… best of luck, ma’am.” Nodding to her, she made to exit, pausing briefly in the doorframe.