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There was a biting irritation that Skylla felt. It burned at the back of her neck and down her spine. Idle hands made for terrible work and she had thrown herself into her work as soon as she had been released from the Queen’s chambers. The morning sickness, which she had tried so hard to combat upon her initial hiring at the Palace, had returned. She looked a fool and she was only so sure that others would start to see her as one as well. But there were no magical cures for morning sickness and the assertion that she must cure such an ailment was literally bordering on the impossible.
It was true, Skylla could help ease the Queen’s stomach, but there would always be that chance of the sickness returning in full force no matter when or what triggered such a horrible reaction in Queen Hatshepsut’s body. She was not a witch. She could not just snap her fingers and make the queen feel better. It took time and patience, something everyone in this Palace seemed to lack. It irked the young physician. So she had escaped back to her workroom, laying out some of her supplies and making a list of things that the Queen could do to help ward away the sickness that was becoming all too prominent in her life.
With her quill scrawling across papyrus, Skylla found herself incredibly focused on her work. She did not always have just the queen to look after. Other people did come to her for small things, and she already had a list of medicinal items that she would need to restock. She had used much of what was there throughout the last few days and she was already taking stock of what would need to be replaced.
Skylla expected to be alone. Entirely alone. Left to her work and left alone by those around you. It was one of the few ways she kept herself from eating everyone in his palace alive. The biting remarks and the silent, blatant hatred of everyone here needed to remain to herself. While not entirely impulsive, the situation was stressful. Stressful and frustrating and Skylla was honestly already growing desperate. Callidora needed to get out of this Kingdom. Then Skylla could drop the act if she truly wanted. There would be no risk to Dora’s life, so she could absolutely bite the hand that was feeding her when the time came.
Though, that wasn’t entirely her style. If she grew desperate, however, that might change.
Hearing the door open, Skylla quickly looked up from her lists and her supplies, dark eyes searching the doorway. In an instant, she had put her quill down, settling her hands in front of her and stared directly at the Pharaoh. Then she thought to bow before straightening up. “My dear Pharaoh,” Skylla said smoothly, “Whatever has brought you to my workshop?” she asked with a polite tilt to her lips. Oh, she already knew why he was here, but verbally she would not stoop to the level of assuming such a reason. “Do you have need of care or assistance?” Skylla was already giving the Pharaoh a once over, obviously looking for anything at all that could potentially explain his presence. No matter how feigned or fake it might be.
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There was a biting irritation that Skylla felt. It burned at the back of her neck and down her spine. Idle hands made for terrible work and she had thrown herself into her work as soon as she had been released from the Queen’s chambers. The morning sickness, which she had tried so hard to combat upon her initial hiring at the Palace, had returned. She looked a fool and she was only so sure that others would start to see her as one as well. But there were no magical cures for morning sickness and the assertion that she must cure such an ailment was literally bordering on the impossible.
It was true, Skylla could help ease the Queen’s stomach, but there would always be that chance of the sickness returning in full force no matter when or what triggered such a horrible reaction in Queen Hatshepsut’s body. She was not a witch. She could not just snap her fingers and make the queen feel better. It took time and patience, something everyone in this Palace seemed to lack. It irked the young physician. So she had escaped back to her workroom, laying out some of her supplies and making a list of things that the Queen could do to help ward away the sickness that was becoming all too prominent in her life.
With her quill scrawling across papyrus, Skylla found herself incredibly focused on her work. She did not always have just the queen to look after. Other people did come to her for small things, and she already had a list of medicinal items that she would need to restock. She had used much of what was there throughout the last few days and she was already taking stock of what would need to be replaced.
Skylla expected to be alone. Entirely alone. Left to her work and left alone by those around you. It was one of the few ways she kept herself from eating everyone in his palace alive. The biting remarks and the silent, blatant hatred of everyone here needed to remain to herself. While not entirely impulsive, the situation was stressful. Stressful and frustrating and Skylla was honestly already growing desperate. Callidora needed to get out of this Kingdom. Then Skylla could drop the act if she truly wanted. There would be no risk to Dora’s life, so she could absolutely bite the hand that was feeding her when the time came.
Though, that wasn’t entirely her style. If she grew desperate, however, that might change.
Hearing the door open, Skylla quickly looked up from her lists and her supplies, dark eyes searching the doorway. In an instant, she had put her quill down, settling her hands in front of her and stared directly at the Pharaoh. Then she thought to bow before straightening up. “My dear Pharaoh,” Skylla said smoothly, “Whatever has brought you to my workshop?” she asked with a polite tilt to her lips. Oh, she already knew why he was here, but verbally she would not stoop to the level of assuming such a reason. “Do you have need of care or assistance?” Skylla was already giving the Pharaoh a once over, obviously looking for anything at all that could potentially explain his presence. No matter how feigned or fake it might be.
There was a biting irritation that Skylla felt. It burned at the back of her neck and down her spine. Idle hands made for terrible work and she had thrown herself into her work as soon as she had been released from the Queen’s chambers. The morning sickness, which she had tried so hard to combat upon her initial hiring at the Palace, had returned. She looked a fool and she was only so sure that others would start to see her as one as well. But there were no magical cures for morning sickness and the assertion that she must cure such an ailment was literally bordering on the impossible.
It was true, Skylla could help ease the Queen’s stomach, but there would always be that chance of the sickness returning in full force no matter when or what triggered such a horrible reaction in Queen Hatshepsut’s body. She was not a witch. She could not just snap her fingers and make the queen feel better. It took time and patience, something everyone in this Palace seemed to lack. It irked the young physician. So she had escaped back to her workroom, laying out some of her supplies and making a list of things that the Queen could do to help ward away the sickness that was becoming all too prominent in her life.
With her quill scrawling across papyrus, Skylla found herself incredibly focused on her work. She did not always have just the queen to look after. Other people did come to her for small things, and she already had a list of medicinal items that she would need to restock. She had used much of what was there throughout the last few days and she was already taking stock of what would need to be replaced.
Skylla expected to be alone. Entirely alone. Left to her work and left alone by those around you. It was one of the few ways she kept herself from eating everyone in his palace alive. The biting remarks and the silent, blatant hatred of everyone here needed to remain to herself. While not entirely impulsive, the situation was stressful. Stressful and frustrating and Skylla was honestly already growing desperate. Callidora needed to get out of this Kingdom. Then Skylla could drop the act if she truly wanted. There would be no risk to Dora’s life, so she could absolutely bite the hand that was feeding her when the time came.
Though, that wasn’t entirely her style. If she grew desperate, however, that might change.
Hearing the door open, Skylla quickly looked up from her lists and her supplies, dark eyes searching the doorway. In an instant, she had put her quill down, settling her hands in front of her and stared directly at the Pharaoh. Then she thought to bow before straightening up. “My dear Pharaoh,” Skylla said smoothly, “Whatever has brought you to my workshop?” she asked with a polite tilt to her lips. Oh, she already knew why he was here, but verbally she would not stoop to the level of assuming such a reason. “Do you have need of care or assistance?” Skylla was already giving the Pharaoh a once over, obviously looking for anything at all that could potentially explain his presence. No matter how feigned or fake it might be.
There was much that occupied the mind of the King of Kings. At the forefront of his mind, however, was the Queen. Typically, his thoughts on the Queen were quite negative. She was a child in his eyes, petulant and as irritating as sand. She had, however, become much more important to him in the past few weeks. Yes, he needed her until his power was solidified, for without her, he would be challenged, but more importantly, she was pregnant with his child. The next great Pharaoh grew within her womb and it made him increasingly possessive. More than he had been when he announced her pregnancy to the court, upon which Her Evening Radiance had fainted. He was still furious about that, so much so, that he had the previous Royal Physician replaced, as surely, if the man had been doing his job, his wife would not have displayed such weakness at such a critical moment.
He was, however, not coming to this degenerate Greek woman to speak about the Queen’s fainting spell. Something far more disturbing was on his mind. The Queen’s sickness had returned and he was none too pleased by it. Should it not have been gone at this point? He did not know and that bothered him. Being ignorant of the truth was an irritating position to be in. He wanted to know if this return of sickness would affect his son. That was why he came stalking to Skylla, guards in tow.
He watched her bow, as she should have. He’d spared her life after all, solely because she had skills he could utilize. If she failed him now, the mercy he was bestowing upon her might shrivel up like a puddle in the sun. Iahotep merely scowled at her greeting, raising a hand to keep his men posted at the door. Clasping his hands behind his back, Iahotep looked Skylla over with a critical eye. He didn't have time for these pleasantries, though they were expected of her. “You may cease your examination,” he said, frown deepening, “there is nothing the matter with me.”
“I assume you are aware that the Queen has been plagued with a sickness, yes?” he did not wait for her to respond, “I wish to know why it has returned when you have treated it previously. Is this part of some larger illness? What are you doing to alleviate her uneasy stomach? Is she receptive to your treatments?” he maintained eye contact with her “And most importantly, will it affect our son in any way?” He was already in a foul mood what with the burden of war on his shoulders, but if she were to answer affirmatively to his last question, his rage would be uncontainable. There was nothing more precious to him than the life of his son.
May the Gods have mercy on her soul if some harm was done to his child, for he would have none.
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Nov 21, 2019 21:35:40 GMT
Posted In yes, pharaoh. on Nov 21, 2019 21:35:40 GMT
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There was much that occupied the mind of the King of Kings. At the forefront of his mind, however, was the Queen. Typically, his thoughts on the Queen were quite negative. She was a child in his eyes, petulant and as irritating as sand. She had, however, become much more important to him in the past few weeks. Yes, he needed her until his power was solidified, for without her, he would be challenged, but more importantly, she was pregnant with his child. The next great Pharaoh grew within her womb and it made him increasingly possessive. More than he had been when he announced her pregnancy to the court, upon which Her Evening Radiance had fainted. He was still furious about that, so much so, that he had the previous Royal Physician replaced, as surely, if the man had been doing his job, his wife would not have displayed such weakness at such a critical moment.
He was, however, not coming to this degenerate Greek woman to speak about the Queen’s fainting spell. Something far more disturbing was on his mind. The Queen’s sickness had returned and he was none too pleased by it. Should it not have been gone at this point? He did not know and that bothered him. Being ignorant of the truth was an irritating position to be in. He wanted to know if this return of sickness would affect his son. That was why he came stalking to Skylla, guards in tow.
He watched her bow, as she should have. He’d spared her life after all, solely because she had skills he could utilize. If she failed him now, the mercy he was bestowing upon her might shrivel up like a puddle in the sun. Iahotep merely scowled at her greeting, raising a hand to keep his men posted at the door. Clasping his hands behind his back, Iahotep looked Skylla over with a critical eye. He didn't have time for these pleasantries, though they were expected of her. “You may cease your examination,” he said, frown deepening, “there is nothing the matter with me.”
“I assume you are aware that the Queen has been plagued with a sickness, yes?” he did not wait for her to respond, “I wish to know why it has returned when you have treated it previously. Is this part of some larger illness? What are you doing to alleviate her uneasy stomach? Is she receptive to your treatments?” he maintained eye contact with her “And most importantly, will it affect our son in any way?” He was already in a foul mood what with the burden of war on his shoulders, but if she were to answer affirmatively to his last question, his rage would be uncontainable. There was nothing more precious to him than the life of his son.
May the Gods have mercy on her soul if some harm was done to his child, for he would have none.
There was much that occupied the mind of the King of Kings. At the forefront of his mind, however, was the Queen. Typically, his thoughts on the Queen were quite negative. She was a child in his eyes, petulant and as irritating as sand. She had, however, become much more important to him in the past few weeks. Yes, he needed her until his power was solidified, for without her, he would be challenged, but more importantly, she was pregnant with his child. The next great Pharaoh grew within her womb and it made him increasingly possessive. More than he had been when he announced her pregnancy to the court, upon which Her Evening Radiance had fainted. He was still furious about that, so much so, that he had the previous Royal Physician replaced, as surely, if the man had been doing his job, his wife would not have displayed such weakness at such a critical moment.
He was, however, not coming to this degenerate Greek woman to speak about the Queen’s fainting spell. Something far more disturbing was on his mind. The Queen’s sickness had returned and he was none too pleased by it. Should it not have been gone at this point? He did not know and that bothered him. Being ignorant of the truth was an irritating position to be in. He wanted to know if this return of sickness would affect his son. That was why he came stalking to Skylla, guards in tow.
He watched her bow, as she should have. He’d spared her life after all, solely because she had skills he could utilize. If she failed him now, the mercy he was bestowing upon her might shrivel up like a puddle in the sun. Iahotep merely scowled at her greeting, raising a hand to keep his men posted at the door. Clasping his hands behind his back, Iahotep looked Skylla over with a critical eye. He didn't have time for these pleasantries, though they were expected of her. “You may cease your examination,” he said, frown deepening, “there is nothing the matter with me.”
“I assume you are aware that the Queen has been plagued with a sickness, yes?” he did not wait for her to respond, “I wish to know why it has returned when you have treated it previously. Is this part of some larger illness? What are you doing to alleviate her uneasy stomach? Is she receptive to your treatments?” he maintained eye contact with her “And most importantly, will it affect our son in any way?” He was already in a foul mood what with the burden of war on his shoulders, but if she were to answer affirmatively to his last question, his rage would be uncontainable. There was nothing more precious to him than the life of his son.
May the Gods have mercy on her soul if some harm was done to his child, for he would have none.
Skylla was used to demands and bouts of anger such as this. She did not grow up with a psychopathic father and a cruel bedfellow and not come out unscathed. Setting down the work that had been occupying her hands, Skylla turned to fully witness the pharaoh and his guards. This was not a situation that she liked to be in. Being cornered was not something that she was comfortable with. Not in the slightest. He was cornering her, and he would likely do so until he got the answers he wanted or killed her for giving answers that he did not like.
Thankfully, the Queen's sickness was nothing of terrible consequence. It was simply because of the baby growing in her womb. A young girl of the queen's age was prone to be more affected by such drastic changes to her body. How to explain that to a man who was not to be trusted nor that was predictable by any means was a different struggle.
Clearing her throat, Skylla gave a pointed look toward the guards and then put a serene smile on her features. "My King of Kings," she started carefully, "I am pleased to hear of your good health. I am, however, very aware that the queen is still not feeling well. Truth be told, I have wondered if she has felt well even with my previous treatments. However, the return of her sickness is of no true consequence. The only bigger illness such sickness is part of is pregnancy," she admitted softly.
Taking a further step from her work table, she came to give the Pharaoh her full attention, wishing to be entirely transparent with him. Transparency and honesty were key. Especially because the sickness was back at no fault to herself, but the man who stood before her. "The queen is still young, and while a woman, she has not fully developed as a more mature woman of at least eighteen or twenty. A pregnancy is bound to cause more ills due to her small stature and never having had a child before now," Skylla then explained, "I have been working tirelessly to find a better remedy for her illness, as the first seems to have lost its effectiveness. I am making progress and am confident that the treatment on my table will cure her of her sickness, at least for a time. Her sickness should entirely alleviate after the fourth month of her pregnancy and will have no ill effects on your son so long as she keeps to her proper diet and treatment."
This was as honest and correct that she could be. She could not promise actualities when pregnancy was such a precarious state of being. Every woman experienced pregnancy differently, and the queen would be no different in that fact. Frowning a little, Skylla found it proper to bow her head. "I am doing everything in my power to ensure that her comfort is restored and that your son will remain safe and healthy."
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Nov 27, 2019 15:14:56 GMT
Posted In yes, pharaoh. on Nov 27, 2019 15:14:56 GMT
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Skylla was used to demands and bouts of anger such as this. She did not grow up with a psychopathic father and a cruel bedfellow and not come out unscathed. Setting down the work that had been occupying her hands, Skylla turned to fully witness the pharaoh and his guards. This was not a situation that she liked to be in. Being cornered was not something that she was comfortable with. Not in the slightest. He was cornering her, and he would likely do so until he got the answers he wanted or killed her for giving answers that he did not like.
Thankfully, the Queen's sickness was nothing of terrible consequence. It was simply because of the baby growing in her womb. A young girl of the queen's age was prone to be more affected by such drastic changes to her body. How to explain that to a man who was not to be trusted nor that was predictable by any means was a different struggle.
Clearing her throat, Skylla gave a pointed look toward the guards and then put a serene smile on her features. "My King of Kings," she started carefully, "I am pleased to hear of your good health. I am, however, very aware that the queen is still not feeling well. Truth be told, I have wondered if she has felt well even with my previous treatments. However, the return of her sickness is of no true consequence. The only bigger illness such sickness is part of is pregnancy," she admitted softly.
Taking a further step from her work table, she came to give the Pharaoh her full attention, wishing to be entirely transparent with him. Transparency and honesty were key. Especially because the sickness was back at no fault to herself, but the man who stood before her. "The queen is still young, and while a woman, she has not fully developed as a more mature woman of at least eighteen or twenty. A pregnancy is bound to cause more ills due to her small stature and never having had a child before now," Skylla then explained, "I have been working tirelessly to find a better remedy for her illness, as the first seems to have lost its effectiveness. I am making progress and am confident that the treatment on my table will cure her of her sickness, at least for a time. Her sickness should entirely alleviate after the fourth month of her pregnancy and will have no ill effects on your son so long as she keeps to her proper diet and treatment."
This was as honest and correct that she could be. She could not promise actualities when pregnancy was such a precarious state of being. Every woman experienced pregnancy differently, and the queen would be no different in that fact. Frowning a little, Skylla found it proper to bow her head. "I am doing everything in my power to ensure that her comfort is restored and that your son will remain safe and healthy."
Skylla was used to demands and bouts of anger such as this. She did not grow up with a psychopathic father and a cruel bedfellow and not come out unscathed. Setting down the work that had been occupying her hands, Skylla turned to fully witness the pharaoh and his guards. This was not a situation that she liked to be in. Being cornered was not something that she was comfortable with. Not in the slightest. He was cornering her, and he would likely do so until he got the answers he wanted or killed her for giving answers that he did not like.
Thankfully, the Queen's sickness was nothing of terrible consequence. It was simply because of the baby growing in her womb. A young girl of the queen's age was prone to be more affected by such drastic changes to her body. How to explain that to a man who was not to be trusted nor that was predictable by any means was a different struggle.
Clearing her throat, Skylla gave a pointed look toward the guards and then put a serene smile on her features. "My King of Kings," she started carefully, "I am pleased to hear of your good health. I am, however, very aware that the queen is still not feeling well. Truth be told, I have wondered if she has felt well even with my previous treatments. However, the return of her sickness is of no true consequence. The only bigger illness such sickness is part of is pregnancy," she admitted softly.
Taking a further step from her work table, she came to give the Pharaoh her full attention, wishing to be entirely transparent with him. Transparency and honesty were key. Especially because the sickness was back at no fault to herself, but the man who stood before her. "The queen is still young, and while a woman, she has not fully developed as a more mature woman of at least eighteen or twenty. A pregnancy is bound to cause more ills due to her small stature and never having had a child before now," Skylla then explained, "I have been working tirelessly to find a better remedy for her illness, as the first seems to have lost its effectiveness. I am making progress and am confident that the treatment on my table will cure her of her sickness, at least for a time. Her sickness should entirely alleviate after the fourth month of her pregnancy and will have no ill effects on your son so long as she keeps to her proper diet and treatment."
This was as honest and correct that she could be. She could not promise actualities when pregnancy was such a precarious state of being. Every woman experienced pregnancy differently, and the queen would be no different in that fact. Frowning a little, Skylla found it proper to bow her head. "I am doing everything in my power to ensure that her comfort is restored and that your son will remain safe and healthy."
Honestly... Tahena wished the queen's illness would go away, too. Iahotep's slave appreciated any opportunities to serve her for a day, or even an hour, rather than him, but the girl was not about to pester the woman while she wasn't feeling well, even by so minor a thing as being in sight when she hadn't been called for. Whoever said 'there's no harm in asking' had obviously not been a slave. Asking for something at the wrong time was far worse than keeping your hopes entirely to yourself.
Without an excuse to do otherwise, therefore, she'd spent the day in her increasingly-irritated master's presence, meek and silent, following him around like one of his prized hunting cats and for no other reason than the same. He hair was held up off her face with gold combs, revealing the gold glinting on her ears. Matching yellow flowed around her neck and across her shoulders, and wrapped around her arms and waist, accentuating her naked curves and bronze skin. Solid, outrageously expensive craftsmanship, every link of hidden chain made out of the blessedly soft metal, with nothing that might possibly jingle or click together as she moved. Her master was clearly not in any mood for games, which was both good and bad.
From behind the pharaoh's shoulder, she shot the Greek woman a single brief sympathetic glance, before dropping her eyes demurely again. She rarely thought to criticize Iahotep, but in this case... Could the man not simply accept that pregnancy was a woman's matter, and leave it be? Replacing her physician with a Greek woman had been an excellent decision, could he not simply have remained satisfied that he'd given the correct orders and gone off to focus on the war he was so much better equipped to deal with? No, instead he had to come interrupt the work of the woman keeping his wife healthy, for no reason other than to prove he knew nothing at all about that work. And he regularly accused the queen of being petty and childish.
Neither a sigh nor a roll of her eyes betrayed her thoughts as it might have had she been alone with the other woman. Now was certainly not the appropriate time to hint at having thoughts. Almond eyes glanced up again, checking her master's reaction to the physician's answer.
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Honestly... Tahena wished the queen's illness would go away, too. Iahotep's slave appreciated any opportunities to serve her for a day, or even an hour, rather than him, but the girl was not about to pester the woman while she wasn't feeling well, even by so minor a thing as being in sight when she hadn't been called for. Whoever said 'there's no harm in asking' had obviously not been a slave. Asking for something at the wrong time was far worse than keeping your hopes entirely to yourself.
Without an excuse to do otherwise, therefore, she'd spent the day in her increasingly-irritated master's presence, meek and silent, following him around like one of his prized hunting cats and for no other reason than the same. He hair was held up off her face with gold combs, revealing the gold glinting on her ears. Matching yellow flowed around her neck and across her shoulders, and wrapped around her arms and waist, accentuating her naked curves and bronze skin. Solid, outrageously expensive craftsmanship, every link of hidden chain made out of the blessedly soft metal, with nothing that might possibly jingle or click together as she moved. Her master was clearly not in any mood for games, which was both good and bad.
From behind the pharaoh's shoulder, she shot the Greek woman a single brief sympathetic glance, before dropping her eyes demurely again. She rarely thought to criticize Iahotep, but in this case... Could the man not simply accept that pregnancy was a woman's matter, and leave it be? Replacing her physician with a Greek woman had been an excellent decision, could he not simply have remained satisfied that he'd given the correct orders and gone off to focus on the war he was so much better equipped to deal with? No, instead he had to come interrupt the work of the woman keeping his wife healthy, for no reason other than to prove he knew nothing at all about that work. And he regularly accused the queen of being petty and childish.
Neither a sigh nor a roll of her eyes betrayed her thoughts as it might have had she been alone with the other woman. Now was certainly not the appropriate time to hint at having thoughts. Almond eyes glanced up again, checking her master's reaction to the physician's answer.
Honestly... Tahena wished the queen's illness would go away, too. Iahotep's slave appreciated any opportunities to serve her for a day, or even an hour, rather than him, but the girl was not about to pester the woman while she wasn't feeling well, even by so minor a thing as being in sight when she hadn't been called for. Whoever said 'there's no harm in asking' had obviously not been a slave. Asking for something at the wrong time was far worse than keeping your hopes entirely to yourself.
Without an excuse to do otherwise, therefore, she'd spent the day in her increasingly-irritated master's presence, meek and silent, following him around like one of his prized hunting cats and for no other reason than the same. He hair was held up off her face with gold combs, revealing the gold glinting on her ears. Matching yellow flowed around her neck and across her shoulders, and wrapped around her arms and waist, accentuating her naked curves and bronze skin. Solid, outrageously expensive craftsmanship, every link of hidden chain made out of the blessedly soft metal, with nothing that might possibly jingle or click together as she moved. Her master was clearly not in any mood for games, which was both good and bad.
From behind the pharaoh's shoulder, she shot the Greek woman a single brief sympathetic glance, before dropping her eyes demurely again. She rarely thought to criticize Iahotep, but in this case... Could the man not simply accept that pregnancy was a woman's matter, and leave it be? Replacing her physician with a Greek woman had been an excellent decision, could he not simply have remained satisfied that he'd given the correct orders and gone off to focus on the war he was so much better equipped to deal with? No, instead he had to come interrupt the work of the woman keeping his wife healthy, for no reason other than to prove he knew nothing at all about that work. And he regularly accused the queen of being petty and childish.
Neither a sigh nor a roll of her eyes betrayed her thoughts as it might have had she been alone with the other woman. Now was certainly not the appropriate time to hint at having thoughts. Almond eyes glanced up again, checking her master's reaction to the physician's answer.
Were the King of Kings privy to the opinions of his slave girl, he would have beaten her until she could no longer form opinions. He was, however, no mind reader, so his focus was directed towards his wife’s physician, rather than his slave, whom he expected to remain silent. Iahotep listened carefully to Skylla’s explanation, looking for any hint of hubris or condescending air. He was clearly in no mood for either, given the grave expression on his face. Skylla either knew this or truly had only the Queen’s best interest at heart. That was something he highly doubted. People were invariably selfish and he was certain this Greek woman, in all of her perversions, was no different.
Though she addressed him correctly and bowed her head, Iahotep was not convinced that she truly knew her place. Was the threat of execution not enough? Fitting that a Greek woman would think herself above the Supreme King of Kings. He looked over his shoulder suddenly at Tahena. Why was she still standing? He beckoned her to his side then snapped his fingers and pointed at the ground. A simple command -- she was to kneel. Knowing she would comply less incur his wrath, Iahotep looked away from her and returned his steely gaze to Skylla.
The only hint he gave that he even accepted anything she said was a curt nod. “See to it that your power is enough.” A simple warning. He stood in silence for many moments, observing his wife’s physician as if he were looking for any hint of weakness. “If the queen refuses your treatments, I am to be informed immediately.”
Granted, the servants and slaves loyal to him would most certainly spread the news, which would no doubt reach his ears, he wanted to hold Skylla accountable in a way. It was already apparent that any decline in the queen’s health would be blamed on the physician as it had been before. However useful Skylla was, she was not the only capable physician at his disposal. He would not have patience for anything less than her best work.
“You are already aware that I expect to hear updates on the queen’s health,” he said, “however, I require that daily reports be given to the Queen Dowager if you are not already doing so.” Perhaps the motion might have been seen as a kind gesture to keep the Queen Mother informed on her daughter’s health, but to Iahotep it was merely another pair of eyes to scrutinize the physician before him. “And of course, anything of note is to be reported directly to me.” He nodded his head slightly, pleased with his orders.
“I expect results, Skylla.”
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Were the King of Kings privy to the opinions of his slave girl, he would have beaten her until she could no longer form opinions. He was, however, no mind reader, so his focus was directed towards his wife’s physician, rather than his slave, whom he expected to remain silent. Iahotep listened carefully to Skylla’s explanation, looking for any hint of hubris or condescending air. He was clearly in no mood for either, given the grave expression on his face. Skylla either knew this or truly had only the Queen’s best interest at heart. That was something he highly doubted. People were invariably selfish and he was certain this Greek woman, in all of her perversions, was no different.
Though she addressed him correctly and bowed her head, Iahotep was not convinced that she truly knew her place. Was the threat of execution not enough? Fitting that a Greek woman would think herself above the Supreme King of Kings. He looked over his shoulder suddenly at Tahena. Why was she still standing? He beckoned her to his side then snapped his fingers and pointed at the ground. A simple command -- she was to kneel. Knowing she would comply less incur his wrath, Iahotep looked away from her and returned his steely gaze to Skylla.
The only hint he gave that he even accepted anything she said was a curt nod. “See to it that your power is enough.” A simple warning. He stood in silence for many moments, observing his wife’s physician as if he were looking for any hint of weakness. “If the queen refuses your treatments, I am to be informed immediately.”
Granted, the servants and slaves loyal to him would most certainly spread the news, which would no doubt reach his ears, he wanted to hold Skylla accountable in a way. It was already apparent that any decline in the queen’s health would be blamed on the physician as it had been before. However useful Skylla was, she was not the only capable physician at his disposal. He would not have patience for anything less than her best work.
“You are already aware that I expect to hear updates on the queen’s health,” he said, “however, I require that daily reports be given to the Queen Dowager if you are not already doing so.” Perhaps the motion might have been seen as a kind gesture to keep the Queen Mother informed on her daughter’s health, but to Iahotep it was merely another pair of eyes to scrutinize the physician before him. “And of course, anything of note is to be reported directly to me.” He nodded his head slightly, pleased with his orders.
“I expect results, Skylla.”
Were the King of Kings privy to the opinions of his slave girl, he would have beaten her until she could no longer form opinions. He was, however, no mind reader, so his focus was directed towards his wife’s physician, rather than his slave, whom he expected to remain silent. Iahotep listened carefully to Skylla’s explanation, looking for any hint of hubris or condescending air. He was clearly in no mood for either, given the grave expression on his face. Skylla either knew this or truly had only the Queen’s best interest at heart. That was something he highly doubted. People were invariably selfish and he was certain this Greek woman, in all of her perversions, was no different.
Though she addressed him correctly and bowed her head, Iahotep was not convinced that she truly knew her place. Was the threat of execution not enough? Fitting that a Greek woman would think herself above the Supreme King of Kings. He looked over his shoulder suddenly at Tahena. Why was she still standing? He beckoned her to his side then snapped his fingers and pointed at the ground. A simple command -- she was to kneel. Knowing she would comply less incur his wrath, Iahotep looked away from her and returned his steely gaze to Skylla.
The only hint he gave that he even accepted anything she said was a curt nod. “See to it that your power is enough.” A simple warning. He stood in silence for many moments, observing his wife’s physician as if he were looking for any hint of weakness. “If the queen refuses your treatments, I am to be informed immediately.”
Granted, the servants and slaves loyal to him would most certainly spread the news, which would no doubt reach his ears, he wanted to hold Skylla accountable in a way. It was already apparent that any decline in the queen’s health would be blamed on the physician as it had been before. However useful Skylla was, she was not the only capable physician at his disposal. He would not have patience for anything less than her best work.
“You are already aware that I expect to hear updates on the queen’s health,” he said, “however, I require that daily reports be given to the Queen Dowager if you are not already doing so.” Perhaps the motion might have been seen as a kind gesture to keep the Queen Mother informed on her daughter’s health, but to Iahotep it was merely another pair of eyes to scrutinize the physician before him. “And of course, anything of note is to be reported directly to me.” He nodded his head slightly, pleased with his orders.
“I expect results, Skylla.”
Of course he did. Royals never seemed to understand the concept of time and patience. Everything had to be done on their time, with their own timeframes in mind. They expected results within moments, rather than days or weeks. Haughty, selfish, overbearingly annoying, Skylla held no high opinion of the Pharaoh before her. She only held interest and care for the Queen, her own neck, and Callidora. Everyone else? Well, they were an afterthought.
It had never occurred to her that she needed to tell the Queen Dowager everything that happened. The Pharaoh, maybe, but the former Queen of Egypt? That was a trap and Skylla could see it from a mile away. Paying absolutely no attention to the slave girl at Iahotep's side, Skylla was not sure if the demonstration was a quiet demand for her to do the same, but she wasn't inclined to end up on her knees. Something told her that her ending up on her knees now would likely lead to her being on her knees later.
For an entirely different reason.
She refrained from curling her lip, keeping the pleasant expression on her features. Still, she'd rather have a cock in her mouth than her head on a chopping block. Inwardly, she was rolling her eyes at her own sense of self preservation, slowly and gracefully sinking onto her knees in the way that the Pharaoh seemed to like. Lifting her eyes slowly, she let her chocolate gaze meet his own, a slight tilt to her head. Better to seem pliable and willing to do whatever was asked of her than end up dead.
If she were dead, it meant that Callidora was not protected.
"Yes, Pharaoh," she said very slowly, making sure that he understood that she was not here to argue and that she was doing everything she could to ensure the health and safety of the Queen. "She has not refused my treatments thus far," Skylla said slowly, "And has even found them soothing. I am simply trying to find the balance of care that she and her body, as well as her mind, requires in this trying time," her tone was reverent, easy, wanting the Pharaoh to understand what her own thought process was.
To protect his unborn child, she would do anything. He knew that. She knew that.
"I am doing my level best and keeping her happy and pleased in the meantime," she said quietly, "I will ensure that I give my own reports to the Queen Dowager as well, as you have requested," she murmured then, still not looking at the slave girl. Why she was here, she wasn't sure. There was something mildly unnerving about her, though Skylla had thick skin and the thought was gone as quickly as it had formed. "Does this please you, King of Kings?" she tested carefully then, her tone not at all mocking, instead entirely sincere in its meaning. The main goal was to see the baby born and her head still attached to her neck at the end of this all. Maybe then she could take her freedom back.
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Mar 26, 2020 13:07:33 GMT
Posted In yes, pharaoh. on Mar 26, 2020 13:07:33 GMT
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Of course he did. Royals never seemed to understand the concept of time and patience. Everything had to be done on their time, with their own timeframes in mind. They expected results within moments, rather than days or weeks. Haughty, selfish, overbearingly annoying, Skylla held no high opinion of the Pharaoh before her. She only held interest and care for the Queen, her own neck, and Callidora. Everyone else? Well, they were an afterthought.
It had never occurred to her that she needed to tell the Queen Dowager everything that happened. The Pharaoh, maybe, but the former Queen of Egypt? That was a trap and Skylla could see it from a mile away. Paying absolutely no attention to the slave girl at Iahotep's side, Skylla was not sure if the demonstration was a quiet demand for her to do the same, but she wasn't inclined to end up on her knees. Something told her that her ending up on her knees now would likely lead to her being on her knees later.
For an entirely different reason.
She refrained from curling her lip, keeping the pleasant expression on her features. Still, she'd rather have a cock in her mouth than her head on a chopping block. Inwardly, she was rolling her eyes at her own sense of self preservation, slowly and gracefully sinking onto her knees in the way that the Pharaoh seemed to like. Lifting her eyes slowly, she let her chocolate gaze meet his own, a slight tilt to her head. Better to seem pliable and willing to do whatever was asked of her than end up dead.
If she were dead, it meant that Callidora was not protected.
"Yes, Pharaoh," she said very slowly, making sure that he understood that she was not here to argue and that she was doing everything she could to ensure the health and safety of the Queen. "She has not refused my treatments thus far," Skylla said slowly, "And has even found them soothing. I am simply trying to find the balance of care that she and her body, as well as her mind, requires in this trying time," her tone was reverent, easy, wanting the Pharaoh to understand what her own thought process was.
To protect his unborn child, she would do anything. He knew that. She knew that.
"I am doing my level best and keeping her happy and pleased in the meantime," she said quietly, "I will ensure that I give my own reports to the Queen Dowager as well, as you have requested," she murmured then, still not looking at the slave girl. Why she was here, she wasn't sure. There was something mildly unnerving about her, though Skylla had thick skin and the thought was gone as quickly as it had formed. "Does this please you, King of Kings?" she tested carefully then, her tone not at all mocking, instead entirely sincere in its meaning. The main goal was to see the baby born and her head still attached to her neck at the end of this all. Maybe then she could take her freedom back.
Of course he did. Royals never seemed to understand the concept of time and patience. Everything had to be done on their time, with their own timeframes in mind. They expected results within moments, rather than days or weeks. Haughty, selfish, overbearingly annoying, Skylla held no high opinion of the Pharaoh before her. She only held interest and care for the Queen, her own neck, and Callidora. Everyone else? Well, they were an afterthought.
It had never occurred to her that she needed to tell the Queen Dowager everything that happened. The Pharaoh, maybe, but the former Queen of Egypt? That was a trap and Skylla could see it from a mile away. Paying absolutely no attention to the slave girl at Iahotep's side, Skylla was not sure if the demonstration was a quiet demand for her to do the same, but she wasn't inclined to end up on her knees. Something told her that her ending up on her knees now would likely lead to her being on her knees later.
For an entirely different reason.
She refrained from curling her lip, keeping the pleasant expression on her features. Still, she'd rather have a cock in her mouth than her head on a chopping block. Inwardly, she was rolling her eyes at her own sense of self preservation, slowly and gracefully sinking onto her knees in the way that the Pharaoh seemed to like. Lifting her eyes slowly, she let her chocolate gaze meet his own, a slight tilt to her head. Better to seem pliable and willing to do whatever was asked of her than end up dead.
If she were dead, it meant that Callidora was not protected.
"Yes, Pharaoh," she said very slowly, making sure that he understood that she was not here to argue and that she was doing everything she could to ensure the health and safety of the Queen. "She has not refused my treatments thus far," Skylla said slowly, "And has even found them soothing. I am simply trying to find the balance of care that she and her body, as well as her mind, requires in this trying time," her tone was reverent, easy, wanting the Pharaoh to understand what her own thought process was.
To protect his unborn child, she would do anything. He knew that. She knew that.
"I am doing my level best and keeping her happy and pleased in the meantime," she said quietly, "I will ensure that I give my own reports to the Queen Dowager as well, as you have requested," she murmured then, still not looking at the slave girl. Why she was here, she wasn't sure. There was something mildly unnerving about her, though Skylla had thick skin and the thought was gone as quickly as it had formed. "Does this please you, King of Kings?" she tested carefully then, her tone not at all mocking, instead entirely sincere in its meaning. The main goal was to see the baby born and her head still attached to her neck at the end of this all. Maybe then she could take her freedom back.
At the pharaoh's wordless command, Tahena stepped forward and sank gracefully to her knees, silent and obedient. She wasn't worried about getting in trouble for not having anticipated the order; so long as she reacted promptly when his attention did fall on her, it was better to seem slightly stupid than smart. Smart people were more likely to have opinions, and Iahotep's slaves were not supposed to have opinions.
Human nature being as it was, though, one could not entirely eliminate having opinions short of brain damage or death. At the moment, she was mildly annoyed that she'd misread him, that staying out of his peripheral vision wasn't enough to keep him from sparing her a thought. Catching his attention when he was in a mood was not exactly her favourite pastime. Maybe she should take it as flattery, that her absence from the spot he expected her to be was noticed more than her presence, even when he was focused on something else.
Maybe she should just do the very simple thing that was literally her job, same as every other day. Why was she getting frustrated today? Maybe his bad mood was rubbing off. Skylla had claimed the pharaoh's attention again, and Tahena consciously pushed her irritation away and focused on planning how she could improve her master's mood later. For all that she was limited to a relatively small toolset in that regard, she still preferred working from a plan - though one that often needed to be adapted in the moment. How much initiative to show was one of the greatest variables, and so she raised her eyes to watch him through dark lashes. There was a huge difference between Iahotep being irritated because people were not doing exactly as they were told down to every little detail, and Iahotep irritated because people were making him tell them every little detail of what to do. Days that it was both just needed to be endured - but today he seemed to simply feel not enough people were taking his authority seriously enough, and that Tahena could handle easily enough. Perhaps just a touch more initiative for the rest of the day, then. Eager to please, but still without drawing more attention than it seemed was unavoidable. That should work.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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At the pharaoh's wordless command, Tahena stepped forward and sank gracefully to her knees, silent and obedient. She wasn't worried about getting in trouble for not having anticipated the order; so long as she reacted promptly when his attention did fall on her, it was better to seem slightly stupid than smart. Smart people were more likely to have opinions, and Iahotep's slaves were not supposed to have opinions.
Human nature being as it was, though, one could not entirely eliminate having opinions short of brain damage or death. At the moment, she was mildly annoyed that she'd misread him, that staying out of his peripheral vision wasn't enough to keep him from sparing her a thought. Catching his attention when he was in a mood was not exactly her favourite pastime. Maybe she should take it as flattery, that her absence from the spot he expected her to be was noticed more than her presence, even when he was focused on something else.
Maybe she should just do the very simple thing that was literally her job, same as every other day. Why was she getting frustrated today? Maybe his bad mood was rubbing off. Skylla had claimed the pharaoh's attention again, and Tahena consciously pushed her irritation away and focused on planning how she could improve her master's mood later. For all that she was limited to a relatively small toolset in that regard, she still preferred working from a plan - though one that often needed to be adapted in the moment. How much initiative to show was one of the greatest variables, and so she raised her eyes to watch him through dark lashes. There was a huge difference between Iahotep being irritated because people were not doing exactly as they were told down to every little detail, and Iahotep irritated because people were making him tell them every little detail of what to do. Days that it was both just needed to be endured - but today he seemed to simply feel not enough people were taking his authority seriously enough, and that Tahena could handle easily enough. Perhaps just a touch more initiative for the rest of the day, then. Eager to please, but still without drawing more attention than it seemed was unavoidable. That should work.
At the pharaoh's wordless command, Tahena stepped forward and sank gracefully to her knees, silent and obedient. She wasn't worried about getting in trouble for not having anticipated the order; so long as she reacted promptly when his attention did fall on her, it was better to seem slightly stupid than smart. Smart people were more likely to have opinions, and Iahotep's slaves were not supposed to have opinions.
Human nature being as it was, though, one could not entirely eliminate having opinions short of brain damage or death. At the moment, she was mildly annoyed that she'd misread him, that staying out of his peripheral vision wasn't enough to keep him from sparing her a thought. Catching his attention when he was in a mood was not exactly her favourite pastime. Maybe she should take it as flattery, that her absence from the spot he expected her to be was noticed more than her presence, even when he was focused on something else.
Maybe she should just do the very simple thing that was literally her job, same as every other day. Why was she getting frustrated today? Maybe his bad mood was rubbing off. Skylla had claimed the pharaoh's attention again, and Tahena consciously pushed her irritation away and focused on planning how she could improve her master's mood later. For all that she was limited to a relatively small toolset in that regard, she still preferred working from a plan - though one that often needed to be adapted in the moment. How much initiative to show was one of the greatest variables, and so she raised her eyes to watch him through dark lashes. There was a huge difference between Iahotep being irritated because people were not doing exactly as they were told down to every little detail, and Iahotep irritated because people were making him tell them every little detail of what to do. Days that it was both just needed to be endured - but today he seemed to simply feel not enough people were taking his authority seriously enough, and that Tahena could handle easily enough. Perhaps just a touch more initiative for the rest of the day, then. Eager to please, but still without drawing more attention than it seemed was unavoidable. That should work.