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Security upon the Saraaya H'Sheifa has been increased ten-fold as the Hei offer one of their largest and most exquisite private trading auctions ever to be held in Thebes. Jewels: diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, colchian blood stones, amethysts, opals, pearls and the finest of finest golds and silvers. The pieces are excessive, extravagant and only for the richest to even touch. Here, where all that glitters really is gold and all that sparkles is for sale... come one, come all and see how they shine.
JD
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JD
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Security upon the Saraaya H'Sheifa has been increased ten-fold as the Hei offer one of their largest and most exquisite private trading auctions ever to be held in Thebes. Jewels: diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, colchian blood stones, amethysts, opals, pearls and the finest of finest golds and silvers. The pieces are excessive, extravagant and only for the richest to even touch. Here, where all that glitters really is gold and all that sparkles is for sale... come one, come all and see how they shine.
See How They Shine Story - Egypt
Security upon the Saraaya H'Sheifa has been increased ten-fold as the Hei offer one of their largest and most exquisite private trading auctions ever to be held in Thebes. Jewels: diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, colchian blood stones, amethysts, opals, pearls and the finest of finest golds and silvers. The pieces are excessive, extravagant and only for the richest to even touch. Here, where all that glitters really is gold and all that sparkles is for sale... come one, come all and see how they shine.
This had to be the best outfit he's had on in a long time. The threads he wore were of the finest silk, an outfit Narmer had kept stowed away in a chest of clothing for many moons now. They were the outfits he did not bother to bring along with him on his travels, for where would one need a silken kalasiri in the deserts? Outfits meant only for court sessions, Na'meah finally decided that it was time to dust out the old threads when the invitation had come to invite Narmer to the H'Sheifa saraaya to witness the priate trading auction held in Thebes.
While he knew that marriage arrangements for himself and the daughter to Hei Sheifa was underway, Narmer still could not hide the surprise when the invitation had come, and had immediately asked Na'meah for help.He was raised on a diet of military training, so how exactly did one conduct themselves in front of their prospective in laws at a trading affair for jewelry and precious stones?
Of course, his sister-in-law dragged out the khat previously worn by his brother, and Narmer couldn't help but adjust it time and again, not liking how it sat on his head. Linen is first used to cover the top portion of his head and tied to the back, before a golden headband encrusted with emeralds is used to secure the piece of cloth, with two uraei hanging down on either side, covering his ears. Choosing to not cover his top due to the hot spell, instead Narmer had picked up the golden shendyt, an old gift for him from his father. As a child, it had been long, but now as Narmer wore it, the material fell to cover just above his knees.
Securing it with a golden belt that looked similar to the golden headband around his khat, he slipped his feet in leather slippers. Bare from the waist up with only a soft silken white cape to protect him from the sand as they travelled, his lapis lazuli scarab symbolizing Ra could be easily seen hanging from the leather necklace, and the leather arm bands well worn with time remained securely on both wrists, the gold charms reflecting the afternoon sun as he got on to the chariot that was supposed to carry himself and his nephews to the Hei Sheifa.
Kissan was supposed to learn the ropes, and with his marriage, Narmer was beginning to think more and more, that it was high time his nephew shadowed him in his duty. As such, he had told Kissan the moment he had received the invitation, for his nephew to be ready.
Only after his nephew had gotten on the chariot drawn by two matching bays, did Narmer start the chariot for the quick ride to Hei Sheifa, and took the opportunity to address his nephew. "It would do well to make a good impression on them, if we want the deal to fall through, Kissan." There should be no need to remind his nephew what the 'deal' was, since Kissan had been present when they spoke of marriage he had discussed with Kissan's own mother. The question was if Kissan knew how important the marriage was to the longevity of their Hei.
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This had to be the best outfit he's had on in a long time. The threads he wore were of the finest silk, an outfit Narmer had kept stowed away in a chest of clothing for many moons now. They were the outfits he did not bother to bring along with him on his travels, for where would one need a silken kalasiri in the deserts? Outfits meant only for court sessions, Na'meah finally decided that it was time to dust out the old threads when the invitation had come to invite Narmer to the H'Sheifa saraaya to witness the priate trading auction held in Thebes.
While he knew that marriage arrangements for himself and the daughter to Hei Sheifa was underway, Narmer still could not hide the surprise when the invitation had come, and had immediately asked Na'meah for help.He was raised on a diet of military training, so how exactly did one conduct themselves in front of their prospective in laws at a trading affair for jewelry and precious stones?
Of course, his sister-in-law dragged out the khat previously worn by his brother, and Narmer couldn't help but adjust it time and again, not liking how it sat on his head. Linen is first used to cover the top portion of his head and tied to the back, before a golden headband encrusted with emeralds is used to secure the piece of cloth, with two uraei hanging down on either side, covering his ears. Choosing to not cover his top due to the hot spell, instead Narmer had picked up the golden shendyt, an old gift for him from his father. As a child, it had been long, but now as Narmer wore it, the material fell to cover just above his knees.
Securing it with a golden belt that looked similar to the golden headband around his khat, he slipped his feet in leather slippers. Bare from the waist up with only a soft silken white cape to protect him from the sand as they travelled, his lapis lazuli scarab symbolizing Ra could be easily seen hanging from the leather necklace, and the leather arm bands well worn with time remained securely on both wrists, the gold charms reflecting the afternoon sun as he got on to the chariot that was supposed to carry himself and his nephews to the Hei Sheifa.
Kissan was supposed to learn the ropes, and with his marriage, Narmer was beginning to think more and more, that it was high time his nephew shadowed him in his duty. As such, he had told Kissan the moment he had received the invitation, for his nephew to be ready.
Only after his nephew had gotten on the chariot drawn by two matching bays, did Narmer start the chariot for the quick ride to Hei Sheifa, and took the opportunity to address his nephew. "It would do well to make a good impression on them, if we want the deal to fall through, Kissan." There should be no need to remind his nephew what the 'deal' was, since Kissan had been present when they spoke of marriage he had discussed with Kissan's own mother. The question was if Kissan knew how important the marriage was to the longevity of their Hei.
This had to be the best outfit he's had on in a long time. The threads he wore were of the finest silk, an outfit Narmer had kept stowed away in a chest of clothing for many moons now. They were the outfits he did not bother to bring along with him on his travels, for where would one need a silken kalasiri in the deserts? Outfits meant only for court sessions, Na'meah finally decided that it was time to dust out the old threads when the invitation had come to invite Narmer to the H'Sheifa saraaya to witness the priate trading auction held in Thebes.
While he knew that marriage arrangements for himself and the daughter to Hei Sheifa was underway, Narmer still could not hide the surprise when the invitation had come, and had immediately asked Na'meah for help.He was raised on a diet of military training, so how exactly did one conduct themselves in front of their prospective in laws at a trading affair for jewelry and precious stones?
Of course, his sister-in-law dragged out the khat previously worn by his brother, and Narmer couldn't help but adjust it time and again, not liking how it sat on his head. Linen is first used to cover the top portion of his head and tied to the back, before a golden headband encrusted with emeralds is used to secure the piece of cloth, with two uraei hanging down on either side, covering his ears. Choosing to not cover his top due to the hot spell, instead Narmer had picked up the golden shendyt, an old gift for him from his father. As a child, it had been long, but now as Narmer wore it, the material fell to cover just above his knees.
Securing it with a golden belt that looked similar to the golden headband around his khat, he slipped his feet in leather slippers. Bare from the waist up with only a soft silken white cape to protect him from the sand as they travelled, his lapis lazuli scarab symbolizing Ra could be easily seen hanging from the leather necklace, and the leather arm bands well worn with time remained securely on both wrists, the gold charms reflecting the afternoon sun as he got on to the chariot that was supposed to carry himself and his nephews to the Hei Sheifa.
Kissan was supposed to learn the ropes, and with his marriage, Narmer was beginning to think more and more, that it was high time his nephew shadowed him in his duty. As such, he had told Kissan the moment he had received the invitation, for his nephew to be ready.
Only after his nephew had gotten on the chariot drawn by two matching bays, did Narmer start the chariot for the quick ride to Hei Sheifa, and took the opportunity to address his nephew. "It would do well to make a good impression on them, if we want the deal to fall through, Kissan." There should be no need to remind his nephew what the 'deal' was, since Kissan had been present when they spoke of marriage he had discussed with Kissan's own mother. The question was if Kissan knew how important the marriage was to the longevity of their Hei.
Neithotep fidgeted with the stiff fabric of her golden silk kalasiris, practically choking with the number of jewels her mother had bedecked her with. Her neck, ears, wrists, and ankles sparkled with all manner of sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds, as if she was some idol to be admired rather a flesh and blood human. In that moment, that’s all she felt like she was—just an object to be shown off, a symbol to be paraded around in hopes that a certain Sirdar would find her worthy of becoming his bride.
Needless to say, Nia wanted to rip every last necklace, ring, and bracelet from her body and cast it into the Nile. This was never what she wanted. She doubted it ever would be.
But she had to keep up appearances, or so Iaheru kept reminding her. She was the daughter of one of the most prosperous Heis in all of Egypt, and she had to look the part, especially at such an auspicious event as this. Even though their Hei was rumored to be in decline, her mother had not hesitated for one moment in extending the invitation to Narmer and his family, and because of that, here she was, on display as if she was on the auction block herself.
To say she was uncomfortable would be putting it mildly. Nia had never been one for ostentatious displays of wealth, even if she was part of such a rich family. What made her even more uncomfortable was what this ostentation represented—the next step of extending her family, a step she did not want to take, and one she had very vocally protested. But, as usual, her protests were ignored, so here she was, putting on an act of grace and serenity in order to impress the prospective husband she didn’t even want.
What she could be grateful for, however, was this retreat to Thebes, a few hours journey down the Nile from Cairo and the Evening Star Palace where the specter of Iahotep seemed to linger about every corner. He couldn’t very well summon her from a different city, and she doubted very strongly he’d be present for an event like this when there was a war to be fought. For that, she could breathe a little easier, her back a little straighter than her broken confidence normally allowed.
At least Narmer is not the Pharaoh.
It was a mantra she frequently repeated whenever she was feeling sorry for herself over arrangements in which she had no control. From what she’d seen, the Sirdar was a calm, steady man, a far cry from the tempestuous temper of the King of Kings. If she had to be forced into a loveless union, at least it was with someone who didn’t seem like he would beat her bloody over saying the wrong words or looking at him a little funny. It could be a lot worse.
Small blessings. But at least it was something.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Nia stood a little straighter and steeled herself for the hours to come, dreadful as they may be. As much as she hated playing the part of graceful courtier, she’d do what she could for today. Her family’s name had been dragged through the mud enough lately, as it was. Today, she would not be the reason for it being sullied even further.
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Neithotep fidgeted with the stiff fabric of her golden silk kalasiris, practically choking with the number of jewels her mother had bedecked her with. Her neck, ears, wrists, and ankles sparkled with all manner of sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds, as if she was some idol to be admired rather a flesh and blood human. In that moment, that’s all she felt like she was—just an object to be shown off, a symbol to be paraded around in hopes that a certain Sirdar would find her worthy of becoming his bride.
Needless to say, Nia wanted to rip every last necklace, ring, and bracelet from her body and cast it into the Nile. This was never what she wanted. She doubted it ever would be.
But she had to keep up appearances, or so Iaheru kept reminding her. She was the daughter of one of the most prosperous Heis in all of Egypt, and she had to look the part, especially at such an auspicious event as this. Even though their Hei was rumored to be in decline, her mother had not hesitated for one moment in extending the invitation to Narmer and his family, and because of that, here she was, on display as if she was on the auction block herself.
To say she was uncomfortable would be putting it mildly. Nia had never been one for ostentatious displays of wealth, even if she was part of such a rich family. What made her even more uncomfortable was what this ostentation represented—the next step of extending her family, a step she did not want to take, and one she had very vocally protested. But, as usual, her protests were ignored, so here she was, putting on an act of grace and serenity in order to impress the prospective husband she didn’t even want.
What she could be grateful for, however, was this retreat to Thebes, a few hours journey down the Nile from Cairo and the Evening Star Palace where the specter of Iahotep seemed to linger about every corner. He couldn’t very well summon her from a different city, and she doubted very strongly he’d be present for an event like this when there was a war to be fought. For that, she could breathe a little easier, her back a little straighter than her broken confidence normally allowed.
At least Narmer is not the Pharaoh.
It was a mantra she frequently repeated whenever she was feeling sorry for herself over arrangements in which she had no control. From what she’d seen, the Sirdar was a calm, steady man, a far cry from the tempestuous temper of the King of Kings. If she had to be forced into a loveless union, at least it was with someone who didn’t seem like he would beat her bloody over saying the wrong words or looking at him a little funny. It could be a lot worse.
Small blessings. But at least it was something.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Nia stood a little straighter and steeled herself for the hours to come, dreadful as they may be. As much as she hated playing the part of graceful courtier, she’d do what she could for today. Her family’s name had been dragged through the mud enough lately, as it was. Today, she would not be the reason for it being sullied even further.
Neithotep fidgeted with the stiff fabric of her golden silk kalasiris, practically choking with the number of jewels her mother had bedecked her with. Her neck, ears, wrists, and ankles sparkled with all manner of sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds, as if she was some idol to be admired rather a flesh and blood human. In that moment, that’s all she felt like she was—just an object to be shown off, a symbol to be paraded around in hopes that a certain Sirdar would find her worthy of becoming his bride.
Needless to say, Nia wanted to rip every last necklace, ring, and bracelet from her body and cast it into the Nile. This was never what she wanted. She doubted it ever would be.
But she had to keep up appearances, or so Iaheru kept reminding her. She was the daughter of one of the most prosperous Heis in all of Egypt, and she had to look the part, especially at such an auspicious event as this. Even though their Hei was rumored to be in decline, her mother had not hesitated for one moment in extending the invitation to Narmer and his family, and because of that, here she was, on display as if she was on the auction block herself.
To say she was uncomfortable would be putting it mildly. Nia had never been one for ostentatious displays of wealth, even if she was part of such a rich family. What made her even more uncomfortable was what this ostentation represented—the next step of extending her family, a step she did not want to take, and one she had very vocally protested. But, as usual, her protests were ignored, so here she was, putting on an act of grace and serenity in order to impress the prospective husband she didn’t even want.
What she could be grateful for, however, was this retreat to Thebes, a few hours journey down the Nile from Cairo and the Evening Star Palace where the specter of Iahotep seemed to linger about every corner. He couldn’t very well summon her from a different city, and she doubted very strongly he’d be present for an event like this when there was a war to be fought. For that, she could breathe a little easier, her back a little straighter than her broken confidence normally allowed.
At least Narmer is not the Pharaoh.
It was a mantra she frequently repeated whenever she was feeling sorry for herself over arrangements in which she had no control. From what she’d seen, the Sirdar was a calm, steady man, a far cry from the tempestuous temper of the King of Kings. If she had to be forced into a loveless union, at least it was with someone who didn’t seem like he would beat her bloody over saying the wrong words or looking at him a little funny. It could be a lot worse.
Small blessings. But at least it was something.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Nia stood a little straighter and steeled herself for the hours to come, dreadful as they may be. As much as she hated playing the part of graceful courtier, she’d do what she could for today. Her family’s name had been dragged through the mud enough lately, as it was. Today, she would not be the reason for it being sullied even further.
Unlike his favourite sister, Hena loved to get dressed up and parade around in public. There were few things more fun to him than putting on his best clothing and jewels and rubbing his riches in the face of those who had less than him. He loved the sense of power that came from sporting the latest in fashion and throwing snide comments at those who were behind the times with what they wore. He would dress in his finest clothes all day every day if it was practical. Sadly he had to reserve such indulgences for days like today. A day he had been looking forward to for quite some time now.
He had spent all morning preparing, having his slaves brush out his long hair (very carefully, they had heard tales of what happened to those who did anything wrong when it came to his hair), they scented his precious locks with a light hint of cinnamon, tying a bit of it back behind his head to keep it out of his face. Green and blue beads were woven through strategic locks of his hair, one of his favourite trends. His eyes were lined with kohl, accentuation one of his favourite features. He wore a light and bright white shendyt covering him from waist to just above his knees. The garment was adorned with gold and black highlights, and ornate golden belt wrapped around the top, more decorative than functional. It was adorned with bright green emeralds. On his right arm was the polished gold armband, intricately crafted, it matched with the one Nia had as well. The siblings had purchased the leaf-like jewelry together and Hena had included it in every outfit since.
His elaborate outfit was finished off with a broad collar made of gold and his personal favourite stone, lapis lazuli. The deep blue of the stone seemed to jump out the most out of all of his jewelry. A few other rings and pieces of gold and gems adorned his person, but none that he loved so much as the arm band.
When he was finished his preening, he made his way to where people would gather, flanked by his personal servants who seemed to stick half a step further behind him than necessary, as if terrified that Hena would hurt them. Something that was likely to happen if his mood turned sour.
As he entered, he spotted Nia and his previous resting frown turned into a huge grin as he approached his sister. He felt like it had been awhile since he had seen her, she had been disappearing a lot as of late, and he planned to confront her about such things. Not here though, not now. Now he was just happy to see her.
“My dearest sister, looking all the world as a God among mortals.” He said as he crossed the room over to her, nearly no one had shown up yet aside from them and the slaves. Hena was expected to attend these events, and especially to be on time. Normally he would argue such things, but this time, the matter of jewels and finery had drawn his attention enough to have him arrive at an agreeable hour.
He pulled Nia into a tight hug, clinging to her for just a few lingering moments before letting go and looking at her.
“I missed you.” He said, his next words a little quieter as they were meant only for her to hear. It was not and unknown thing how close the two of them were, but he wished to steal at least a few quiet moments alone with his sister before they were both expected to represent their house.
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Unlike his favourite sister, Hena loved to get dressed up and parade around in public. There were few things more fun to him than putting on his best clothing and jewels and rubbing his riches in the face of those who had less than him. He loved the sense of power that came from sporting the latest in fashion and throwing snide comments at those who were behind the times with what they wore. He would dress in his finest clothes all day every day if it was practical. Sadly he had to reserve such indulgences for days like today. A day he had been looking forward to for quite some time now.
He had spent all morning preparing, having his slaves brush out his long hair (very carefully, they had heard tales of what happened to those who did anything wrong when it came to his hair), they scented his precious locks with a light hint of cinnamon, tying a bit of it back behind his head to keep it out of his face. Green and blue beads were woven through strategic locks of his hair, one of his favourite trends. His eyes were lined with kohl, accentuation one of his favourite features. He wore a light and bright white shendyt covering him from waist to just above his knees. The garment was adorned with gold and black highlights, and ornate golden belt wrapped around the top, more decorative than functional. It was adorned with bright green emeralds. On his right arm was the polished gold armband, intricately crafted, it matched with the one Nia had as well. The siblings had purchased the leaf-like jewelry together and Hena had included it in every outfit since.
His elaborate outfit was finished off with a broad collar made of gold and his personal favourite stone, lapis lazuli. The deep blue of the stone seemed to jump out the most out of all of his jewelry. A few other rings and pieces of gold and gems adorned his person, but none that he loved so much as the arm band.
When he was finished his preening, he made his way to where people would gather, flanked by his personal servants who seemed to stick half a step further behind him than necessary, as if terrified that Hena would hurt them. Something that was likely to happen if his mood turned sour.
As he entered, he spotted Nia and his previous resting frown turned into a huge grin as he approached his sister. He felt like it had been awhile since he had seen her, she had been disappearing a lot as of late, and he planned to confront her about such things. Not here though, not now. Now he was just happy to see her.
“My dearest sister, looking all the world as a God among mortals.” He said as he crossed the room over to her, nearly no one had shown up yet aside from them and the slaves. Hena was expected to attend these events, and especially to be on time. Normally he would argue such things, but this time, the matter of jewels and finery had drawn his attention enough to have him arrive at an agreeable hour.
He pulled Nia into a tight hug, clinging to her for just a few lingering moments before letting go and looking at her.
“I missed you.” He said, his next words a little quieter as they were meant only for her to hear. It was not and unknown thing how close the two of them were, but he wished to steal at least a few quiet moments alone with his sister before they were both expected to represent their house.
Unlike his favourite sister, Hena loved to get dressed up and parade around in public. There were few things more fun to him than putting on his best clothing and jewels and rubbing his riches in the face of those who had less than him. He loved the sense of power that came from sporting the latest in fashion and throwing snide comments at those who were behind the times with what they wore. He would dress in his finest clothes all day every day if it was practical. Sadly he had to reserve such indulgences for days like today. A day he had been looking forward to for quite some time now.
He had spent all morning preparing, having his slaves brush out his long hair (very carefully, they had heard tales of what happened to those who did anything wrong when it came to his hair), they scented his precious locks with a light hint of cinnamon, tying a bit of it back behind his head to keep it out of his face. Green and blue beads were woven through strategic locks of his hair, one of his favourite trends. His eyes were lined with kohl, accentuation one of his favourite features. He wore a light and bright white shendyt covering him from waist to just above his knees. The garment was adorned with gold and black highlights, and ornate golden belt wrapped around the top, more decorative than functional. It was adorned with bright green emeralds. On his right arm was the polished gold armband, intricately crafted, it matched with the one Nia had as well. The siblings had purchased the leaf-like jewelry together and Hena had included it in every outfit since.
His elaborate outfit was finished off with a broad collar made of gold and his personal favourite stone, lapis lazuli. The deep blue of the stone seemed to jump out the most out of all of his jewelry. A few other rings and pieces of gold and gems adorned his person, but none that he loved so much as the arm band.
When he was finished his preening, he made his way to where people would gather, flanked by his personal servants who seemed to stick half a step further behind him than necessary, as if terrified that Hena would hurt them. Something that was likely to happen if his mood turned sour.
As he entered, he spotted Nia and his previous resting frown turned into a huge grin as he approached his sister. He felt like it had been awhile since he had seen her, she had been disappearing a lot as of late, and he planned to confront her about such things. Not here though, not now. Now he was just happy to see her.
“My dearest sister, looking all the world as a God among mortals.” He said as he crossed the room over to her, nearly no one had shown up yet aside from them and the slaves. Hena was expected to attend these events, and especially to be on time. Normally he would argue such things, but this time, the matter of jewels and finery had drawn his attention enough to have him arrive at an agreeable hour.
He pulled Nia into a tight hug, clinging to her for just a few lingering moments before letting go and looking at her.
“I missed you.” He said, his next words a little quieter as they were meant only for her to hear. It was not and unknown thing how close the two of them were, but he wished to steal at least a few quiet moments alone with his sister before they were both expected to represent their house.
Nia smiled when her brother approached, the first true smile that had rested on her face all day. Sighing gratefully as his arms enfolded her, she let herself relax into his embrace until he finally let her go. “I’m hardly a goddess,” she replied to his flattery with a laugh, taking his hand and tucking it into hers. “But you, on the other hand… positively radiant.”
To say nothing else of the Sheifa family, they were an attractive lot. Even if she was rather estranged from the rest of them besides Hena, she could admit they were all cut from the same beautiful cloth. It was not so very surprising that Narmer H’Haikkadad had come seeking out one of them for his mate—he and so many others. She would never stop wondering why it was that Mother was so intent on him and none of the others, in spite of her numerous rejections of them all. Perhaps that was why—because Nia had rejected for so long and so fiercely? Perhaps Iaheru was just tired of hearing the word no?
But that was not what she needed to worry about for the time being. Her brother was here, all smiles and hugs, and it was a sight that she, too, had sorely missed. Ever since his ascension to heir of Hei Sheifa, their mother had been stealing him away more and more, much to Nia’s sadness. With everything surrounding her involvement with the Pharaoh, she was already feeling isolated, but now, with Hena so absent from her life…
She had never felt so alone.
“I have missed you too,” she replied softly, squeezing his hand. Her eyes were filled with a poignant sorrow as they gazed up into his, though she tried to cover it with a laugh. “Surely one of these days, Mother will release her hold on you, and we might go out for a drink or something.”
Squeezing his hand one more time, she dropped it and sighed. “I know I haven’t been around much lately, either. And even when I am here…” She shrugged. “Now that we’re back in Thebes, though, hopefully that should change. At least for now.”
She couldn’t exactly explain to him why their change in location had anything to do with anything, not without revealing the secret affair that had held her in an unwilling thrall for the past month. Of all those she cared about, Hena was the one Nia needed to keep safe the most; Iahotep had threatened the lives of her family before when she’d displeased him, and she had no doubt he would do it again. She could never let her little brother be subjected to the whims of the Pharaoh. Gods only knew how he treated poor Sutekh, caught up in the Palace with him.
Nia brought the smile back to her face, glancing up at Hena. “Going to help sell the jewels today? Or are you going to take them all for yourself?” she teased.
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Nia smiled when her brother approached, the first true smile that had rested on her face all day. Sighing gratefully as his arms enfolded her, she let herself relax into his embrace until he finally let her go. “I’m hardly a goddess,” she replied to his flattery with a laugh, taking his hand and tucking it into hers. “But you, on the other hand… positively radiant.”
To say nothing else of the Sheifa family, they were an attractive lot. Even if she was rather estranged from the rest of them besides Hena, she could admit they were all cut from the same beautiful cloth. It was not so very surprising that Narmer H’Haikkadad had come seeking out one of them for his mate—he and so many others. She would never stop wondering why it was that Mother was so intent on him and none of the others, in spite of her numerous rejections of them all. Perhaps that was why—because Nia had rejected for so long and so fiercely? Perhaps Iaheru was just tired of hearing the word no?
But that was not what she needed to worry about for the time being. Her brother was here, all smiles and hugs, and it was a sight that she, too, had sorely missed. Ever since his ascension to heir of Hei Sheifa, their mother had been stealing him away more and more, much to Nia’s sadness. With everything surrounding her involvement with the Pharaoh, she was already feeling isolated, but now, with Hena so absent from her life…
She had never felt so alone.
“I have missed you too,” she replied softly, squeezing his hand. Her eyes were filled with a poignant sorrow as they gazed up into his, though she tried to cover it with a laugh. “Surely one of these days, Mother will release her hold on you, and we might go out for a drink or something.”
Squeezing his hand one more time, she dropped it and sighed. “I know I haven’t been around much lately, either. And even when I am here…” She shrugged. “Now that we’re back in Thebes, though, hopefully that should change. At least for now.”
She couldn’t exactly explain to him why their change in location had anything to do with anything, not without revealing the secret affair that had held her in an unwilling thrall for the past month. Of all those she cared about, Hena was the one Nia needed to keep safe the most; Iahotep had threatened the lives of her family before when she’d displeased him, and she had no doubt he would do it again. She could never let her little brother be subjected to the whims of the Pharaoh. Gods only knew how he treated poor Sutekh, caught up in the Palace with him.
Nia brought the smile back to her face, glancing up at Hena. “Going to help sell the jewels today? Or are you going to take them all for yourself?” she teased.
Nia smiled when her brother approached, the first true smile that had rested on her face all day. Sighing gratefully as his arms enfolded her, she let herself relax into his embrace until he finally let her go. “I’m hardly a goddess,” she replied to his flattery with a laugh, taking his hand and tucking it into hers. “But you, on the other hand… positively radiant.”
To say nothing else of the Sheifa family, they were an attractive lot. Even if she was rather estranged from the rest of them besides Hena, she could admit they were all cut from the same beautiful cloth. It was not so very surprising that Narmer H’Haikkadad had come seeking out one of them for his mate—he and so many others. She would never stop wondering why it was that Mother was so intent on him and none of the others, in spite of her numerous rejections of them all. Perhaps that was why—because Nia had rejected for so long and so fiercely? Perhaps Iaheru was just tired of hearing the word no?
But that was not what she needed to worry about for the time being. Her brother was here, all smiles and hugs, and it was a sight that she, too, had sorely missed. Ever since his ascension to heir of Hei Sheifa, their mother had been stealing him away more and more, much to Nia’s sadness. With everything surrounding her involvement with the Pharaoh, she was already feeling isolated, but now, with Hena so absent from her life…
She had never felt so alone.
“I have missed you too,” she replied softly, squeezing his hand. Her eyes were filled with a poignant sorrow as they gazed up into his, though she tried to cover it with a laugh. “Surely one of these days, Mother will release her hold on you, and we might go out for a drink or something.”
Squeezing his hand one more time, she dropped it and sighed. “I know I haven’t been around much lately, either. And even when I am here…” She shrugged. “Now that we’re back in Thebes, though, hopefully that should change. At least for now.”
She couldn’t exactly explain to him why their change in location had anything to do with anything, not without revealing the secret affair that had held her in an unwilling thrall for the past month. Of all those she cared about, Hena was the one Nia needed to keep safe the most; Iahotep had threatened the lives of her family before when she’d displeased him, and she had no doubt he would do it again. She could never let her little brother be subjected to the whims of the Pharaoh. Gods only knew how he treated poor Sutekh, caught up in the Palace with him.
Nia brought the smile back to her face, glancing up at Hena. “Going to help sell the jewels today? Or are you going to take them all for yourself?” she teased.
Peacock feathers laid scalloped and overlapping one another, affixed to a cape with solid ivory carved peacocks with pearls dangling from the bird's crests. A network dress glittering with lapis, emerald, and diamonds overlaid the sheerness of a silver kalasaris embroidered with lotuses. Crystal dangled off of her like raindrops sliding down on terracotta as a moon-like goddess brought forth jewels beyond compare and wealth beyond measure. Instead of completely concealing her hair, Iaheru had it oiled with perfume and braided into a crown, tucking the white silk into the precipice with ivory and diamond pins.
It was as if the women took flight and overtook the night sky, mantling a Goddess unknown. Iaheru wasn't sure she had ever seen a garment so fine in her life. It bordered on inappropriate. Indigo stained her lips and even, controlled breaths fell on an ivory nose ring, a delicate filigree accented by liquid silver.
Though her dress was heavy, the woman bustled about the stalls followed closely by a guard of true loyalty, Set. Every once in a while, she'd stare to the capitals of white marble columns, ever amazed at the never ending patterns and the projection of her life. Her children gallivanted about the stalls, both Neithotep and Akhenaten taking to the celebration rather than the work, Nenet and Nefertaari in common clothing hurrying from vendor to vendor to hiss and stutter amongst dealings. They had not the grace of their mother and father, though Nefertaari inched closely behind the seasoned traders.
Iaheru creeps behind Akhenaten, giving him a kiss on his cheek. "My children, both too beautiful to bear." Iaheru looks brightly between the both of them, the slits in the sides of her cape opening to reveal arms glittering with diamonds, lemon sapphires and tiger eye baubles accentuating contours of strong, elegant arms. The semblance to one another was not planned, and it only brought Iaheru joy, "I seem to have imitated you both this afternoon, style becomes power. Should we find Sirdar H'Sheifa..." her eyes, heavy with liquid silver and pearl, turned down, the words so foreign and distant to her they caused a twinge of noticeable pain. "We will be the most handsome peafowl."
"Keep your eyes and ears keen, but revel in what you will inherit. It truly is the world," she leaves them be, knowing that her mere presence, no matter how praiseworthy, would only serve to ruin their time. Iaheru was sure that her presence dampened an event that cemented H'Sheifa's perseverance for those she loved the very most. Yet, she didn't work with dirt under her nails, at the beck and call of Queen Mother Isetheperu, she did not relinquish her being to the Pharaoh to not glitter as she did. To not hold her chin impossibly high despite the weight of familial animosity. Iaheru focused on her next target.
Turning in the sun, her cape and train swish behind her as she locks eyes with a particular Sirdar. From there, the second sun makes her way to Narmer.
On her regal march, a familiar merchant calls to the Sirdsett. She pauses and regards the man from lands afar, outstretching her arm to display the network hanging like dew from her bare arms, selling the art without so much as a word. She allowed the man to run his hand to her elbow before Set stealthily unsheathed a long knife and placed it at the joint that connected the merchant's arm to his friendly fingers. Iaheru huffed and continued her walk.
"Welcome Sirdar," delicate, heavy fingers wrap around Narmers forearm close to his elbow, as if she was general greeting another, mirroring the touch that was all too close but 2 minutes ago. "Welcome to Thebes and to saraaya Sheifa, proper."
"I trust and prayed that your journey was well," Iaheru positions herself beside the General instead of blocking his view from the blinding opulence of both herself and the bazaar manifesting in the Sheifa complex.
"I cannot impose, but," Iaheru withdrew her arms into her cape, placing them comfortably behind her back as she schemes of her first lesson for the receptive Sirdar. "Can you stay close to me today. There is a lot to process and your eyes see a different world than mine."
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Peacock feathers laid scalloped and overlapping one another, affixed to a cape with solid ivory carved peacocks with pearls dangling from the bird's crests. A network dress glittering with lapis, emerald, and diamonds overlaid the sheerness of a silver kalasaris embroidered with lotuses. Crystal dangled off of her like raindrops sliding down on terracotta as a moon-like goddess brought forth jewels beyond compare and wealth beyond measure. Instead of completely concealing her hair, Iaheru had it oiled with perfume and braided into a crown, tucking the white silk into the precipice with ivory and diamond pins.
It was as if the women took flight and overtook the night sky, mantling a Goddess unknown. Iaheru wasn't sure she had ever seen a garment so fine in her life. It bordered on inappropriate. Indigo stained her lips and even, controlled breaths fell on an ivory nose ring, a delicate filigree accented by liquid silver.
Though her dress was heavy, the woman bustled about the stalls followed closely by a guard of true loyalty, Set. Every once in a while, she'd stare to the capitals of white marble columns, ever amazed at the never ending patterns and the projection of her life. Her children gallivanted about the stalls, both Neithotep and Akhenaten taking to the celebration rather than the work, Nenet and Nefertaari in common clothing hurrying from vendor to vendor to hiss and stutter amongst dealings. They had not the grace of their mother and father, though Nefertaari inched closely behind the seasoned traders.
Iaheru creeps behind Akhenaten, giving him a kiss on his cheek. "My children, both too beautiful to bear." Iaheru looks brightly between the both of them, the slits in the sides of her cape opening to reveal arms glittering with diamonds, lemon sapphires and tiger eye baubles accentuating contours of strong, elegant arms. The semblance to one another was not planned, and it only brought Iaheru joy, "I seem to have imitated you both this afternoon, style becomes power. Should we find Sirdar H'Sheifa..." her eyes, heavy with liquid silver and pearl, turned down, the words so foreign and distant to her they caused a twinge of noticeable pain. "We will be the most handsome peafowl."
"Keep your eyes and ears keen, but revel in what you will inherit. It truly is the world," she leaves them be, knowing that her mere presence, no matter how praiseworthy, would only serve to ruin their time. Iaheru was sure that her presence dampened an event that cemented H'Sheifa's perseverance for those she loved the very most. Yet, she didn't work with dirt under her nails, at the beck and call of Queen Mother Isetheperu, she did not relinquish her being to the Pharaoh to not glitter as she did. To not hold her chin impossibly high despite the weight of familial animosity. Iaheru focused on her next target.
Turning in the sun, her cape and train swish behind her as she locks eyes with a particular Sirdar. From there, the second sun makes her way to Narmer.
On her regal march, a familiar merchant calls to the Sirdsett. She pauses and regards the man from lands afar, outstretching her arm to display the network hanging like dew from her bare arms, selling the art without so much as a word. She allowed the man to run his hand to her elbow before Set stealthily unsheathed a long knife and placed it at the joint that connected the merchant's arm to his friendly fingers. Iaheru huffed and continued her walk.
"Welcome Sirdar," delicate, heavy fingers wrap around Narmers forearm close to his elbow, as if she was general greeting another, mirroring the touch that was all too close but 2 minutes ago. "Welcome to Thebes and to saraaya Sheifa, proper."
"I trust and prayed that your journey was well," Iaheru positions herself beside the General instead of blocking his view from the blinding opulence of both herself and the bazaar manifesting in the Sheifa complex.
"I cannot impose, but," Iaheru withdrew her arms into her cape, placing them comfortably behind her back as she schemes of her first lesson for the receptive Sirdar. "Can you stay close to me today. There is a lot to process and your eyes see a different world than mine."
Peacock feathers laid scalloped and overlapping one another, affixed to a cape with solid ivory carved peacocks with pearls dangling from the bird's crests. A network dress glittering with lapis, emerald, and diamonds overlaid the sheerness of a silver kalasaris embroidered with lotuses. Crystal dangled off of her like raindrops sliding down on terracotta as a moon-like goddess brought forth jewels beyond compare and wealth beyond measure. Instead of completely concealing her hair, Iaheru had it oiled with perfume and braided into a crown, tucking the white silk into the precipice with ivory and diamond pins.
It was as if the women took flight and overtook the night sky, mantling a Goddess unknown. Iaheru wasn't sure she had ever seen a garment so fine in her life. It bordered on inappropriate. Indigo stained her lips and even, controlled breaths fell on an ivory nose ring, a delicate filigree accented by liquid silver.
Though her dress was heavy, the woman bustled about the stalls followed closely by a guard of true loyalty, Set. Every once in a while, she'd stare to the capitals of white marble columns, ever amazed at the never ending patterns and the projection of her life. Her children gallivanted about the stalls, both Neithotep and Akhenaten taking to the celebration rather than the work, Nenet and Nefertaari in common clothing hurrying from vendor to vendor to hiss and stutter amongst dealings. They had not the grace of their mother and father, though Nefertaari inched closely behind the seasoned traders.
Iaheru creeps behind Akhenaten, giving him a kiss on his cheek. "My children, both too beautiful to bear." Iaheru looks brightly between the both of them, the slits in the sides of her cape opening to reveal arms glittering with diamonds, lemon sapphires and tiger eye baubles accentuating contours of strong, elegant arms. The semblance to one another was not planned, and it only brought Iaheru joy, "I seem to have imitated you both this afternoon, style becomes power. Should we find Sirdar H'Sheifa..." her eyes, heavy with liquid silver and pearl, turned down, the words so foreign and distant to her they caused a twinge of noticeable pain. "We will be the most handsome peafowl."
"Keep your eyes and ears keen, but revel in what you will inherit. It truly is the world," she leaves them be, knowing that her mere presence, no matter how praiseworthy, would only serve to ruin their time. Iaheru was sure that her presence dampened an event that cemented H'Sheifa's perseverance for those she loved the very most. Yet, she didn't work with dirt under her nails, at the beck and call of Queen Mother Isetheperu, she did not relinquish her being to the Pharaoh to not glitter as she did. To not hold her chin impossibly high despite the weight of familial animosity. Iaheru focused on her next target.
Turning in the sun, her cape and train swish behind her as she locks eyes with a particular Sirdar. From there, the second sun makes her way to Narmer.
On her regal march, a familiar merchant calls to the Sirdsett. She pauses and regards the man from lands afar, outstretching her arm to display the network hanging like dew from her bare arms, selling the art without so much as a word. She allowed the man to run his hand to her elbow before Set stealthily unsheathed a long knife and placed it at the joint that connected the merchant's arm to his friendly fingers. Iaheru huffed and continued her walk.
"Welcome Sirdar," delicate, heavy fingers wrap around Narmers forearm close to his elbow, as if she was general greeting another, mirroring the touch that was all too close but 2 minutes ago. "Welcome to Thebes and to saraaya Sheifa, proper."
"I trust and prayed that your journey was well," Iaheru positions herself beside the General instead of blocking his view from the blinding opulence of both herself and the bazaar manifesting in the Sheifa complex.
"I cannot impose, but," Iaheru withdrew her arms into her cape, placing them comfortably behind her back as she schemes of her first lesson for the receptive Sirdar. "Can you stay close to me today. There is a lot to process and your eyes see a different world than mine."
“Nonsense. My sister stands as a Goddess, and I a God, forever at her side.” He replied as she tried to deny his compliment, something that he wasn’t about to let her get away with. Hena was very vocal about complimenting his dearest sister, probably part of the reason for the rumours that swirled about the nature of their relationship. Let them talk, Hena knew that the love he felt for his sister was only for her as a sibling and a best friend, he didn’t care what other people might think. The bond that ran between them was unbreakable, and undeniable.
“You need not worry over mother’s hold on me. You only need to speak the words and I will find my way out of her grip and into more loving arms.” He said quietly, speaking the words as the very woman they discussed made her way into the room, looking all the world to be a living jewel herself. It was one trait that Hena had most likely gotten from her, as Nia hated being dressed in fineries, and Hena loved it as much as their mother seemed to.
Hena let out a laugh as his sister questioned his motives for being there.
“If any catch my eye, I will not deny myself the pleasure of calling them mine. When have you ever known me to deny myself pleasure?” He teased back, though it was true, if there was anything of particular note there that evening, Hena would not pass up the opportunity of calling it his.
Hena visibly tensed as their mother approached, speaking and kissing his cheek before to show off her outfit choice to them. The three looked everything like the rich house they truly were, covered head to toe in all sorts of various gold and jewels, their money was clearly evident, as was their tendency to show it off to those considered their peers.
“A fine choice in clothing and adornments this evening mother, you look absolutely beautiful.” He said in return for her compliment, though the words fell a little flatter than the compliments to his beloved sister had earlier. He didn’t necessarily hate his mother, but they had never been overly close, her attentions only turning to him now that he was the heir.
Despite the niceties passed between them, he was glad for her quick departure. He wasn’t sure if she sensed the mood change of her two children as she had approached, or perhaps she thought them less important than attending to their other guests, but either way Hena was glad to turn back to his sister.
“Come dearest Nia and let us find ourselves to some wine before your poor brother dies of thirst.” He said with a mischievous smile, taking her arm in his so that they could seek out a drink together. He wasn’t planning on getting drunk that night, he knew not to make himself look like a fool at this sort of event, but he wasn’t about to go the entire night without at least some wine to make the night at least a bit more interesting.
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“Nonsense. My sister stands as a Goddess, and I a God, forever at her side.” He replied as she tried to deny his compliment, something that he wasn’t about to let her get away with. Hena was very vocal about complimenting his dearest sister, probably part of the reason for the rumours that swirled about the nature of their relationship. Let them talk, Hena knew that the love he felt for his sister was only for her as a sibling and a best friend, he didn’t care what other people might think. The bond that ran between them was unbreakable, and undeniable.
“You need not worry over mother’s hold on me. You only need to speak the words and I will find my way out of her grip and into more loving arms.” He said quietly, speaking the words as the very woman they discussed made her way into the room, looking all the world to be a living jewel herself. It was one trait that Hena had most likely gotten from her, as Nia hated being dressed in fineries, and Hena loved it as much as their mother seemed to.
Hena let out a laugh as his sister questioned his motives for being there.
“If any catch my eye, I will not deny myself the pleasure of calling them mine. When have you ever known me to deny myself pleasure?” He teased back, though it was true, if there was anything of particular note there that evening, Hena would not pass up the opportunity of calling it his.
Hena visibly tensed as their mother approached, speaking and kissing his cheek before to show off her outfit choice to them. The three looked everything like the rich house they truly were, covered head to toe in all sorts of various gold and jewels, their money was clearly evident, as was their tendency to show it off to those considered their peers.
“A fine choice in clothing and adornments this evening mother, you look absolutely beautiful.” He said in return for her compliment, though the words fell a little flatter than the compliments to his beloved sister had earlier. He didn’t necessarily hate his mother, but they had never been overly close, her attentions only turning to him now that he was the heir.
Despite the niceties passed between them, he was glad for her quick departure. He wasn’t sure if she sensed the mood change of her two children as she had approached, or perhaps she thought them less important than attending to their other guests, but either way Hena was glad to turn back to his sister.
“Come dearest Nia and let us find ourselves to some wine before your poor brother dies of thirst.” He said with a mischievous smile, taking her arm in his so that they could seek out a drink together. He wasn’t planning on getting drunk that night, he knew not to make himself look like a fool at this sort of event, but he wasn’t about to go the entire night without at least some wine to make the night at least a bit more interesting.
“Nonsense. My sister stands as a Goddess, and I a God, forever at her side.” He replied as she tried to deny his compliment, something that he wasn’t about to let her get away with. Hena was very vocal about complimenting his dearest sister, probably part of the reason for the rumours that swirled about the nature of their relationship. Let them talk, Hena knew that the love he felt for his sister was only for her as a sibling and a best friend, he didn’t care what other people might think. The bond that ran between them was unbreakable, and undeniable.
“You need not worry over mother’s hold on me. You only need to speak the words and I will find my way out of her grip and into more loving arms.” He said quietly, speaking the words as the very woman they discussed made her way into the room, looking all the world to be a living jewel herself. It was one trait that Hena had most likely gotten from her, as Nia hated being dressed in fineries, and Hena loved it as much as their mother seemed to.
Hena let out a laugh as his sister questioned his motives for being there.
“If any catch my eye, I will not deny myself the pleasure of calling them mine. When have you ever known me to deny myself pleasure?” He teased back, though it was true, if there was anything of particular note there that evening, Hena would not pass up the opportunity of calling it his.
Hena visibly tensed as their mother approached, speaking and kissing his cheek before to show off her outfit choice to them. The three looked everything like the rich house they truly were, covered head to toe in all sorts of various gold and jewels, their money was clearly evident, as was their tendency to show it off to those considered their peers.
“A fine choice in clothing and adornments this evening mother, you look absolutely beautiful.” He said in return for her compliment, though the words fell a little flatter than the compliments to his beloved sister had earlier. He didn’t necessarily hate his mother, but they had never been overly close, her attentions only turning to him now that he was the heir.
Despite the niceties passed between them, he was glad for her quick departure. He wasn’t sure if she sensed the mood change of her two children as she had approached, or perhaps she thought them less important than attending to their other guests, but either way Hena was glad to turn back to his sister.
“Come dearest Nia and let us find ourselves to some wine before your poor brother dies of thirst.” He said with a mischievous smile, taking her arm in his so that they could seek out a drink together. He wasn’t planning on getting drunk that night, he knew not to make himself look like a fool at this sort of event, but he wasn’t about to go the entire night without at least some wine to make the night at least a bit more interesting.
A jewelry sale?!
Anastasia of the Fallen Star was a creature of exquisite tastes and far too little of a mind to control herself around the baubles that so caught her eye. She'd received correspondence from the Lord Akhenaten H'Sheifa, both a summons and an offer for the bard to join the delicious Egyptian noble as his... his date? The young woman had her troubles with the Coptic language, having learned it in self-study in the time of her enslavement -- technical marriage to the merchant Alector. She used the language and fables both as her fantasy to escape from her circumstances and truly it was a marvel that she'd come so far from that hell as to receive actual letters in the language she'd studied as a habit. Excitement bubbled throughout she who deemed herself a fallen star, a tremor that coursed throughout her form. Surely, a jewelry auction meant that both security and the fashions of the evening were to be at an all-time high.
Can I control myself?
The question was valid, for even in the opulence she possessed, the copious rewards of her talents and instincts for survival, there was a voracious hunger for more. Reluctantly she sold jewelry herself as a means to sustain her acquired tastes. Since she'd grown into adulthood, the woman knew little else but opulence even as the details of her freedom shifted with time. She felt her throat lodge with a knot, her trepidation overwhelmed again and again by the bubbling excitement and she resolved herself in that moment to heed the invitation. However, the day that Ana had met Akhenaten, she'd been dressed as a child of Egypt, though it was immediately clear by her complexion that she was not. She'd done her utmost to wash away the Greek in her tones, given the high tensions between the two nations always at the precipice of war. However, she'd never adopted the Egyptian dialect, preferring to bask her lavish words with the music that resonated within the depths of her soul.
Even if I can't, I must go. Akhenaten H'Sheifa is a prize too sweet to relinquish on the premise of fear, she ruminated. But, if she was to join Akhenaten in the public eye, she had no intention of bowing to the customary dress of his nation. She'd bathe herself in the beauty of the status she gave to herself, and sifted through her belongings until she dug out the proper choice to show her as she truly was. The Fallen Star took a quick gander at her form in the mirror, satisfied with the smooth sheen of her skin. She'd just bathed and felt the rich soothe of oils that had long soaked into her skin. Pearly white was her complexion, a contradiction to the varying shades of bronze and brown that made up the entirety of the nation of Egypt. She sought to keep her distinctive countenance, to raise herself to the level of myth. All bards sought after the concept of immortality, and Anastasia was certainly no different. She glanced back at Akhenaten's letter, in no rush to dress herself just yet.
To my fallen star, it began. Anastasia felt the dash of a flush set upon her features as she imagined Akhenaten calling her that in person. She felt a low giggle escape her lips, raising fingers to brush into her still dampened hair before she, for the moment, tied it back.
Yes, I am a fallen star. A fallen bead from the sky seeking after her immortality in the heavens once again.
Soft digits fingered the missive he'd described, placing her thoughts to the next line of his letter with a brilliant smile that threatened to take over the delicate features that accompanied it. Hazel eyes brimmed with a deep warmth as she read those words aloud.
"I hope to see your radiant beauty there, so that you may outshine all of the gems presented," she repeated in the familiar Coptic.
How Akhenaten lavished her with praise even in written form that it astounded even her not-so-humble self. She'd believed after their night in the opium den and her unwitting departure from it all that she wouldn't see him again so soon. She figured the dazzling lordship lost on her without the proper opportunity to lay the claim she'd so ardently promised him that evening. She, perhaps, held her chance, the moment was there to be seized and she at last decided to dress herself. But, first. Anastasia smoothed out her hair with a lush towel until it was fully dried. She turned her head back and forth, letting her auburn tresses sling about her left shoulder just as she picked up the dress she'd chosen. Reminiscient of the garbs attributed to the Greek Goddesses themselves, she slid herself into the silken garment, stolen from a wandering merchant that had been so naive as to think she truly cared for him.
Hena, she repeated, the final word in his letter and a name she'd yet to use before. She let the two syllables dance upon her lips before she felt the silken dress settle upon her. She smoothed out the garment against her, properly fitted to hug each delicate curve of her body. She stepped into a similarly coloured pair of undergarments, fitting them snug to her waist before the true work of her attire began. Anastasia felt the dancing trills of her dress behind her as she bent over to fit thick silver laces along the length of her legs. Each one was tied in an easy knot, tight enough to stay in place without cutting the circulation of her blood. Diagonally she set the patterns about her limb before covering it all in a thin veil that went up the length of each leg. See-through, all of Anastasia's flesh that was not covered by lace was available for the mortal eye to feast upon.
Next, the woman sought to wrap her arms in the same sort of veil, but not before carefully wrapping silver chains adorned with tiny specks of sapphire that danced along her limbs. Satisfied with those efforts, similar chains wove next into her hair, styling herself a crown forged from stolen and connected chain necklaces that her travels had won her from similarly foolish merchants after quick thrills and a charming face.
Utterly satisfied that she looked like the representation of the fable she wove of herself, Anastasia released herself from her lavish suite with the missive in tow. She wasn't sure where to go, but she certainly wasn't shy to ask. In smooth Coptic she found her destination, placing a coin in the hand of her instructor before she absconded with a palpable skip in her step. Grace and beauty followed Anastasia with her every step, and her veils did their utmost to protect the fragile complexion she held from the brutal beating of the Egyptian sun. She moved quicker still, allowing her palpable excitement to take her into a swift walk. She did not run, for to appear winded before the lavish nobility of Egypt was an asinine idea. She kept her rhythm, tempering her excitement until it all came crashing down on her.
"Stop, foreigner. You are not welcome," the guards bellowed, causing the nose of Anastasia of the Fallen Star to crinkle with her frustration. She held out her missive, saying nothing but letting every single bit of her ire to show upon her countenance. With the missive presented, the guards allowed her to pass, and Anastasia sought after the man whose arm belonged wrapped about by hers.
'Come dearest Nia and let us find ourselves some wine,' she heard in the distance, the voice all too familiar and one that haunted her dreams for days after she'd left his company. Red jealousy surged throughout her body, rage rising at the gall of the Egyptian to invite two women to one event. Especially when one of them was her! She was about to huff loudly but Akhenaten H'Sheifa had not finished speaking. 'Before your poor brother dies of thirst,' she heard him complete and a very distinct sense of embarrassment arose within her. The heated flush carried instantaeously upon her, only to quell then rise anew. She allowed a flustered smile to catch upon her lips, hoping to use the excuse that the beauty of the Egyptian nobleman was the source of her blush. Anastasia forced a breath of calm to pour from her lips, allowing her eyes to comb over Hena, as he called himself. Then, once properly calmed she gave herself the opportunity to present herself to the brother and sister.
"Oh, Hena!" she called out, allowing sultry music to pour into her tone. She wound about the Saraahya H'Sheifa, her eyes only for Akhenaten. But, that changed rather quickly as she turned her gaze to the mentioned Nia. She felt the rhythm of her chest pick up anew. So beautiful were the pair of nobles that she felt herself momentarily in awe. However, she remembered her place. She was Anastasia of the Fallen Star and these nobles should be so lucky as to look upon her illustrious visage. She flashed a wide smile at both of the nobles before she offered her hand to the woman called Nia.
"Lady H'Sheifa, it is a distinct pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Anastasia, the Fallen Star. I met your brother the other day. A shameful beast he is, attempting to wrest me from the clutches of the public," she teased, blowing a kiss towards the male H'Sheifa. Then, she whipped herself around, pressing forward to claim the lips of Hena. A hand rose up to caress the noble's jawline before she whispered in his ear,
"It is a distinct pleasure to see you again, Hena dear."
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A jewelry sale?!
Anastasia of the Fallen Star was a creature of exquisite tastes and far too little of a mind to control herself around the baubles that so caught her eye. She'd received correspondence from the Lord Akhenaten H'Sheifa, both a summons and an offer for the bard to join the delicious Egyptian noble as his... his date? The young woman had her troubles with the Coptic language, having learned it in self-study in the time of her enslavement -- technical marriage to the merchant Alector. She used the language and fables both as her fantasy to escape from her circumstances and truly it was a marvel that she'd come so far from that hell as to receive actual letters in the language she'd studied as a habit. Excitement bubbled throughout she who deemed herself a fallen star, a tremor that coursed throughout her form. Surely, a jewelry auction meant that both security and the fashions of the evening were to be at an all-time high.
Can I control myself?
The question was valid, for even in the opulence she possessed, the copious rewards of her talents and instincts for survival, there was a voracious hunger for more. Reluctantly she sold jewelry herself as a means to sustain her acquired tastes. Since she'd grown into adulthood, the woman knew little else but opulence even as the details of her freedom shifted with time. She felt her throat lodge with a knot, her trepidation overwhelmed again and again by the bubbling excitement and she resolved herself in that moment to heed the invitation. However, the day that Ana had met Akhenaten, she'd been dressed as a child of Egypt, though it was immediately clear by her complexion that she was not. She'd done her utmost to wash away the Greek in her tones, given the high tensions between the two nations always at the precipice of war. However, she'd never adopted the Egyptian dialect, preferring to bask her lavish words with the music that resonated within the depths of her soul.
Even if I can't, I must go. Akhenaten H'Sheifa is a prize too sweet to relinquish on the premise of fear, she ruminated. But, if she was to join Akhenaten in the public eye, she had no intention of bowing to the customary dress of his nation. She'd bathe herself in the beauty of the status she gave to herself, and sifted through her belongings until she dug out the proper choice to show her as she truly was. The Fallen Star took a quick gander at her form in the mirror, satisfied with the smooth sheen of her skin. She'd just bathed and felt the rich soothe of oils that had long soaked into her skin. Pearly white was her complexion, a contradiction to the varying shades of bronze and brown that made up the entirety of the nation of Egypt. She sought to keep her distinctive countenance, to raise herself to the level of myth. All bards sought after the concept of immortality, and Anastasia was certainly no different. She glanced back at Akhenaten's letter, in no rush to dress herself just yet.
To my fallen star, it began. Anastasia felt the dash of a flush set upon her features as she imagined Akhenaten calling her that in person. She felt a low giggle escape her lips, raising fingers to brush into her still dampened hair before she, for the moment, tied it back.
Yes, I am a fallen star. A fallen bead from the sky seeking after her immortality in the heavens once again.
Soft digits fingered the missive he'd described, placing her thoughts to the next line of his letter with a brilliant smile that threatened to take over the delicate features that accompanied it. Hazel eyes brimmed with a deep warmth as she read those words aloud.
"I hope to see your radiant beauty there, so that you may outshine all of the gems presented," she repeated in the familiar Coptic.
How Akhenaten lavished her with praise even in written form that it astounded even her not-so-humble self. She'd believed after their night in the opium den and her unwitting departure from it all that she wouldn't see him again so soon. She figured the dazzling lordship lost on her without the proper opportunity to lay the claim she'd so ardently promised him that evening. She, perhaps, held her chance, the moment was there to be seized and she at last decided to dress herself. But, first. Anastasia smoothed out her hair with a lush towel until it was fully dried. She turned her head back and forth, letting her auburn tresses sling about her left shoulder just as she picked up the dress she'd chosen. Reminiscient of the garbs attributed to the Greek Goddesses themselves, she slid herself into the silken garment, stolen from a wandering merchant that had been so naive as to think she truly cared for him.
Hena, she repeated, the final word in his letter and a name she'd yet to use before. She let the two syllables dance upon her lips before she felt the silken dress settle upon her. She smoothed out the garment against her, properly fitted to hug each delicate curve of her body. She stepped into a similarly coloured pair of undergarments, fitting them snug to her waist before the true work of her attire began. Anastasia felt the dancing trills of her dress behind her as she bent over to fit thick silver laces along the length of her legs. Each one was tied in an easy knot, tight enough to stay in place without cutting the circulation of her blood. Diagonally she set the patterns about her limb before covering it all in a thin veil that went up the length of each leg. See-through, all of Anastasia's flesh that was not covered by lace was available for the mortal eye to feast upon.
Next, the woman sought to wrap her arms in the same sort of veil, but not before carefully wrapping silver chains adorned with tiny specks of sapphire that danced along her limbs. Satisfied with those efforts, similar chains wove next into her hair, styling herself a crown forged from stolen and connected chain necklaces that her travels had won her from similarly foolish merchants after quick thrills and a charming face.
Utterly satisfied that she looked like the representation of the fable she wove of herself, Anastasia released herself from her lavish suite with the missive in tow. She wasn't sure where to go, but she certainly wasn't shy to ask. In smooth Coptic she found her destination, placing a coin in the hand of her instructor before she absconded with a palpable skip in her step. Grace and beauty followed Anastasia with her every step, and her veils did their utmost to protect the fragile complexion she held from the brutal beating of the Egyptian sun. She moved quicker still, allowing her palpable excitement to take her into a swift walk. She did not run, for to appear winded before the lavish nobility of Egypt was an asinine idea. She kept her rhythm, tempering her excitement until it all came crashing down on her.
"Stop, foreigner. You are not welcome," the guards bellowed, causing the nose of Anastasia of the Fallen Star to crinkle with her frustration. She held out her missive, saying nothing but letting every single bit of her ire to show upon her countenance. With the missive presented, the guards allowed her to pass, and Anastasia sought after the man whose arm belonged wrapped about by hers.
'Come dearest Nia and let us find ourselves some wine,' she heard in the distance, the voice all too familiar and one that haunted her dreams for days after she'd left his company. Red jealousy surged throughout her body, rage rising at the gall of the Egyptian to invite two women to one event. Especially when one of them was her! She was about to huff loudly but Akhenaten H'Sheifa had not finished speaking. 'Before your poor brother dies of thirst,' she heard him complete and a very distinct sense of embarrassment arose within her. The heated flush carried instantaeously upon her, only to quell then rise anew. She allowed a flustered smile to catch upon her lips, hoping to use the excuse that the beauty of the Egyptian nobleman was the source of her blush. Anastasia forced a breath of calm to pour from her lips, allowing her eyes to comb over Hena, as he called himself. Then, once properly calmed she gave herself the opportunity to present herself to the brother and sister.
"Oh, Hena!" she called out, allowing sultry music to pour into her tone. She wound about the Saraahya H'Sheifa, her eyes only for Akhenaten. But, that changed rather quickly as she turned her gaze to the mentioned Nia. She felt the rhythm of her chest pick up anew. So beautiful were the pair of nobles that she felt herself momentarily in awe. However, she remembered her place. She was Anastasia of the Fallen Star and these nobles should be so lucky as to look upon her illustrious visage. She flashed a wide smile at both of the nobles before she offered her hand to the woman called Nia.
"Lady H'Sheifa, it is a distinct pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Anastasia, the Fallen Star. I met your brother the other day. A shameful beast he is, attempting to wrest me from the clutches of the public," she teased, blowing a kiss towards the male H'Sheifa. Then, she whipped herself around, pressing forward to claim the lips of Hena. A hand rose up to caress the noble's jawline before she whispered in his ear,
"It is a distinct pleasure to see you again, Hena dear."
A jewelry sale?!
Anastasia of the Fallen Star was a creature of exquisite tastes and far too little of a mind to control herself around the baubles that so caught her eye. She'd received correspondence from the Lord Akhenaten H'Sheifa, both a summons and an offer for the bard to join the delicious Egyptian noble as his... his date? The young woman had her troubles with the Coptic language, having learned it in self-study in the time of her enslavement -- technical marriage to the merchant Alector. She used the language and fables both as her fantasy to escape from her circumstances and truly it was a marvel that she'd come so far from that hell as to receive actual letters in the language she'd studied as a habit. Excitement bubbled throughout she who deemed herself a fallen star, a tremor that coursed throughout her form. Surely, a jewelry auction meant that both security and the fashions of the evening were to be at an all-time high.
Can I control myself?
The question was valid, for even in the opulence she possessed, the copious rewards of her talents and instincts for survival, there was a voracious hunger for more. Reluctantly she sold jewelry herself as a means to sustain her acquired tastes. Since she'd grown into adulthood, the woman knew little else but opulence even as the details of her freedom shifted with time. She felt her throat lodge with a knot, her trepidation overwhelmed again and again by the bubbling excitement and she resolved herself in that moment to heed the invitation. However, the day that Ana had met Akhenaten, she'd been dressed as a child of Egypt, though it was immediately clear by her complexion that she was not. She'd done her utmost to wash away the Greek in her tones, given the high tensions between the two nations always at the precipice of war. However, she'd never adopted the Egyptian dialect, preferring to bask her lavish words with the music that resonated within the depths of her soul.
Even if I can't, I must go. Akhenaten H'Sheifa is a prize too sweet to relinquish on the premise of fear, she ruminated. But, if she was to join Akhenaten in the public eye, she had no intention of bowing to the customary dress of his nation. She'd bathe herself in the beauty of the status she gave to herself, and sifted through her belongings until she dug out the proper choice to show her as she truly was. The Fallen Star took a quick gander at her form in the mirror, satisfied with the smooth sheen of her skin. She'd just bathed and felt the rich soothe of oils that had long soaked into her skin. Pearly white was her complexion, a contradiction to the varying shades of bronze and brown that made up the entirety of the nation of Egypt. She sought to keep her distinctive countenance, to raise herself to the level of myth. All bards sought after the concept of immortality, and Anastasia was certainly no different. She glanced back at Akhenaten's letter, in no rush to dress herself just yet.
To my fallen star, it began. Anastasia felt the dash of a flush set upon her features as she imagined Akhenaten calling her that in person. She felt a low giggle escape her lips, raising fingers to brush into her still dampened hair before she, for the moment, tied it back.
Yes, I am a fallen star. A fallen bead from the sky seeking after her immortality in the heavens once again.
Soft digits fingered the missive he'd described, placing her thoughts to the next line of his letter with a brilliant smile that threatened to take over the delicate features that accompanied it. Hazel eyes brimmed with a deep warmth as she read those words aloud.
"I hope to see your radiant beauty there, so that you may outshine all of the gems presented," she repeated in the familiar Coptic.
How Akhenaten lavished her with praise even in written form that it astounded even her not-so-humble self. She'd believed after their night in the opium den and her unwitting departure from it all that she wouldn't see him again so soon. She figured the dazzling lordship lost on her without the proper opportunity to lay the claim she'd so ardently promised him that evening. She, perhaps, held her chance, the moment was there to be seized and she at last decided to dress herself. But, first. Anastasia smoothed out her hair with a lush towel until it was fully dried. She turned her head back and forth, letting her auburn tresses sling about her left shoulder just as she picked up the dress she'd chosen. Reminiscient of the garbs attributed to the Greek Goddesses themselves, she slid herself into the silken garment, stolen from a wandering merchant that had been so naive as to think she truly cared for him.
Hena, she repeated, the final word in his letter and a name she'd yet to use before. She let the two syllables dance upon her lips before she felt the silken dress settle upon her. She smoothed out the garment against her, properly fitted to hug each delicate curve of her body. She stepped into a similarly coloured pair of undergarments, fitting them snug to her waist before the true work of her attire began. Anastasia felt the dancing trills of her dress behind her as she bent over to fit thick silver laces along the length of her legs. Each one was tied in an easy knot, tight enough to stay in place without cutting the circulation of her blood. Diagonally she set the patterns about her limb before covering it all in a thin veil that went up the length of each leg. See-through, all of Anastasia's flesh that was not covered by lace was available for the mortal eye to feast upon.
Next, the woman sought to wrap her arms in the same sort of veil, but not before carefully wrapping silver chains adorned with tiny specks of sapphire that danced along her limbs. Satisfied with those efforts, similar chains wove next into her hair, styling herself a crown forged from stolen and connected chain necklaces that her travels had won her from similarly foolish merchants after quick thrills and a charming face.
Utterly satisfied that she looked like the representation of the fable she wove of herself, Anastasia released herself from her lavish suite with the missive in tow. She wasn't sure where to go, but she certainly wasn't shy to ask. In smooth Coptic she found her destination, placing a coin in the hand of her instructor before she absconded with a palpable skip in her step. Grace and beauty followed Anastasia with her every step, and her veils did their utmost to protect the fragile complexion she held from the brutal beating of the Egyptian sun. She moved quicker still, allowing her palpable excitement to take her into a swift walk. She did not run, for to appear winded before the lavish nobility of Egypt was an asinine idea. She kept her rhythm, tempering her excitement until it all came crashing down on her.
"Stop, foreigner. You are not welcome," the guards bellowed, causing the nose of Anastasia of the Fallen Star to crinkle with her frustration. She held out her missive, saying nothing but letting every single bit of her ire to show upon her countenance. With the missive presented, the guards allowed her to pass, and Anastasia sought after the man whose arm belonged wrapped about by hers.
'Come dearest Nia and let us find ourselves some wine,' she heard in the distance, the voice all too familiar and one that haunted her dreams for days after she'd left his company. Red jealousy surged throughout her body, rage rising at the gall of the Egyptian to invite two women to one event. Especially when one of them was her! She was about to huff loudly but Akhenaten H'Sheifa had not finished speaking. 'Before your poor brother dies of thirst,' she heard him complete and a very distinct sense of embarrassment arose within her. The heated flush carried instantaeously upon her, only to quell then rise anew. She allowed a flustered smile to catch upon her lips, hoping to use the excuse that the beauty of the Egyptian nobleman was the source of her blush. Anastasia forced a breath of calm to pour from her lips, allowing her eyes to comb over Hena, as he called himself. Then, once properly calmed she gave herself the opportunity to present herself to the brother and sister.
"Oh, Hena!" she called out, allowing sultry music to pour into her tone. She wound about the Saraahya H'Sheifa, her eyes only for Akhenaten. But, that changed rather quickly as she turned her gaze to the mentioned Nia. She felt the rhythm of her chest pick up anew. So beautiful were the pair of nobles that she felt herself momentarily in awe. However, she remembered her place. She was Anastasia of the Fallen Star and these nobles should be so lucky as to look upon her illustrious visage. She flashed a wide smile at both of the nobles before she offered her hand to the woman called Nia.
"Lady H'Sheifa, it is a distinct pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Anastasia, the Fallen Star. I met your brother the other day. A shameful beast he is, attempting to wrest me from the clutches of the public," she teased, blowing a kiss towards the male H'Sheifa. Then, she whipped herself around, pressing forward to claim the lips of Hena. A hand rose up to caress the noble's jawline before she whispered in his ear,
"It is a distinct pleasure to see you again, Hena dear."
Newly married, Hatshepsut was supposed to be happy. She would have been elated if she had been wed to Osorsen as the two of them had planned. But instead she had been given to Iahotep against her will and she was more miserable than she had ever been in her life. Now when she remembered how frightened she had been to give her opinion at council meetings, she nearly laughed. That fear was nothing compared to her terror of her own husband. He had not hit her since the morning after their wedding, but she could see the violence in his eyes whenever he asked to see her. And the lust. When he called her to his bed, she shivered in revulsion and lay there thinking of something else, which she knew angered him. But what else could she do? Allowing herself to enjoy it would betray her beloved Oso.
The young Queen felt that her life was spiraling out of control and that she was drowning in a sea of sorrow. She needed a distraction, so when she heard about Hei H'Sheifa's jewel sale, she knew she had to go. One thing she did have control of was her own personal finances, which were almost limitless, and Iahotep would have no right to complain about her spending if she used her own money. Just perusing the wares on display would cheer her up. Buying gems to make into her own jewelry might actually make her smile.
She wanted to buy something for Oso as well, to give to him when he returned from Greece, not as a peace offering for accepting the Council's decision to marry her to Iahotep, but as a genuine token of affection. Hatshepsut desperately hoped that he would still want to see her. If he wanted nothing more to do with her, her heart would break into a million pieces and she would die of despair.
For this occasion, she instructed her servants to dress her in a vivid purple shift. Over it was wrapped a pleated and layered kalisaris of iridescent silk that was held in place with a beautiful golden belt studded liberally with amethysts, topazes, and emeralds. The skirt of the kalisaris flowed to the floor in a cascade of sparkling ruffles. She wore a wide collar encrusted with amethysts, topazes, and emeralds, and the rest of her jewelry, from her earrings, bracelets, and rings, to the bands that circles her slender ankles, followed the same color scheme.
Some strands of her hair were arranged into tiny braids woven through with beads that matched her attire. They were pulled to the back and combined into one thicker braid, mainly to keep it out of her face. The rest of her lustrous raven curls were left loose to tumble down her back. Upon her head she wore a simple crown, with loops of gems adorning her forehead. As she looked in her mirror, she thought that she didn't look like a woman who needed jewels at all, as she was nearly covered in them already.
After attaching a gilded leash to Nefret's collar, she picked the monkey up and set her upon her shoulder. Accompanied by her guards, she left the palace and was carried in her sedan chair to the royal ship that would take her the short distance to Thebes. She made that trip quite often to pray at Hathor's temple. The petite Queen needed the goddess more than ever now to guide her through the disaster of her marriage and her husbands cruelty. She often prayed that she would become pregnant quickly. Maybe then Iahotep would quit calling her to his bed.
When the boat docked, she was helped back into her sedan chair and carried to the Saraaya. People stopped to look at her, bowing respectfully before going back to their daily tasks. Upon arrival, she dismounted, knowing that her litter bearers would not move a muscle until she needed them again. Only two guards preceded her inside, for she wanted to blend in and not call attention to herself.
Spotting Sirdsett H'Sheifa with Sirdar H'Haikaddad, she approached them. Nefret peered at them from her mistress' shoulder. “Good day, Sirdsett, Sirdar, she said shyly but politely. To Iaheru, she added: “It's easy to tell that you have the best jewels in Egypt by the number of people already present. I look forward to seeing them.” She could have asked for a private showing, but she liked to mingle with her people. The young girl was a very unpretentious Queen.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Newly married, Hatshepsut was supposed to be happy. She would have been elated if she had been wed to Osorsen as the two of them had planned. But instead she had been given to Iahotep against her will and she was more miserable than she had ever been in her life. Now when she remembered how frightened she had been to give her opinion at council meetings, she nearly laughed. That fear was nothing compared to her terror of her own husband. He had not hit her since the morning after their wedding, but she could see the violence in his eyes whenever he asked to see her. And the lust. When he called her to his bed, she shivered in revulsion and lay there thinking of something else, which she knew angered him. But what else could she do? Allowing herself to enjoy it would betray her beloved Oso.
The young Queen felt that her life was spiraling out of control and that she was drowning in a sea of sorrow. She needed a distraction, so when she heard about Hei H'Sheifa's jewel sale, she knew she had to go. One thing she did have control of was her own personal finances, which were almost limitless, and Iahotep would have no right to complain about her spending if she used her own money. Just perusing the wares on display would cheer her up. Buying gems to make into her own jewelry might actually make her smile.
She wanted to buy something for Oso as well, to give to him when he returned from Greece, not as a peace offering for accepting the Council's decision to marry her to Iahotep, but as a genuine token of affection. Hatshepsut desperately hoped that he would still want to see her. If he wanted nothing more to do with her, her heart would break into a million pieces and she would die of despair.
For this occasion, she instructed her servants to dress her in a vivid purple shift. Over it was wrapped a pleated and layered kalisaris of iridescent silk that was held in place with a beautiful golden belt studded liberally with amethysts, topazes, and emeralds. The skirt of the kalisaris flowed to the floor in a cascade of sparkling ruffles. She wore a wide collar encrusted with amethysts, topazes, and emeralds, and the rest of her jewelry, from her earrings, bracelets, and rings, to the bands that circles her slender ankles, followed the same color scheme.
Some strands of her hair were arranged into tiny braids woven through with beads that matched her attire. They were pulled to the back and combined into one thicker braid, mainly to keep it out of her face. The rest of her lustrous raven curls were left loose to tumble down her back. Upon her head she wore a simple crown, with loops of gems adorning her forehead. As she looked in her mirror, she thought that she didn't look like a woman who needed jewels at all, as she was nearly covered in them already.
After attaching a gilded leash to Nefret's collar, she picked the monkey up and set her upon her shoulder. Accompanied by her guards, she left the palace and was carried in her sedan chair to the royal ship that would take her the short distance to Thebes. She made that trip quite often to pray at Hathor's temple. The petite Queen needed the goddess more than ever now to guide her through the disaster of her marriage and her husbands cruelty. She often prayed that she would become pregnant quickly. Maybe then Iahotep would quit calling her to his bed.
When the boat docked, she was helped back into her sedan chair and carried to the Saraaya. People stopped to look at her, bowing respectfully before going back to their daily tasks. Upon arrival, she dismounted, knowing that her litter bearers would not move a muscle until she needed them again. Only two guards preceded her inside, for she wanted to blend in and not call attention to herself.
Spotting Sirdsett H'Sheifa with Sirdar H'Haikaddad, she approached them. Nefret peered at them from her mistress' shoulder. “Good day, Sirdsett, Sirdar, she said shyly but politely. To Iaheru, she added: “It's easy to tell that you have the best jewels in Egypt by the number of people already present. I look forward to seeing them.” She could have asked for a private showing, but she liked to mingle with her people. The young girl was a very unpretentious Queen.
Newly married, Hatshepsut was supposed to be happy. She would have been elated if she had been wed to Osorsen as the two of them had planned. But instead she had been given to Iahotep against her will and she was more miserable than she had ever been in her life. Now when she remembered how frightened she had been to give her opinion at council meetings, she nearly laughed. That fear was nothing compared to her terror of her own husband. He had not hit her since the morning after their wedding, but she could see the violence in his eyes whenever he asked to see her. And the lust. When he called her to his bed, she shivered in revulsion and lay there thinking of something else, which she knew angered him. But what else could she do? Allowing herself to enjoy it would betray her beloved Oso.
The young Queen felt that her life was spiraling out of control and that she was drowning in a sea of sorrow. She needed a distraction, so when she heard about Hei H'Sheifa's jewel sale, she knew she had to go. One thing she did have control of was her own personal finances, which were almost limitless, and Iahotep would have no right to complain about her spending if she used her own money. Just perusing the wares on display would cheer her up. Buying gems to make into her own jewelry might actually make her smile.
She wanted to buy something for Oso as well, to give to him when he returned from Greece, not as a peace offering for accepting the Council's decision to marry her to Iahotep, but as a genuine token of affection. Hatshepsut desperately hoped that he would still want to see her. If he wanted nothing more to do with her, her heart would break into a million pieces and she would die of despair.
For this occasion, she instructed her servants to dress her in a vivid purple shift. Over it was wrapped a pleated and layered kalisaris of iridescent silk that was held in place with a beautiful golden belt studded liberally with amethysts, topazes, and emeralds. The skirt of the kalisaris flowed to the floor in a cascade of sparkling ruffles. She wore a wide collar encrusted with amethysts, topazes, and emeralds, and the rest of her jewelry, from her earrings, bracelets, and rings, to the bands that circles her slender ankles, followed the same color scheme.
Some strands of her hair were arranged into tiny braids woven through with beads that matched her attire. They were pulled to the back and combined into one thicker braid, mainly to keep it out of her face. The rest of her lustrous raven curls were left loose to tumble down her back. Upon her head she wore a simple crown, with loops of gems adorning her forehead. As she looked in her mirror, she thought that she didn't look like a woman who needed jewels at all, as she was nearly covered in them already.
After attaching a gilded leash to Nefret's collar, she picked the monkey up and set her upon her shoulder. Accompanied by her guards, she left the palace and was carried in her sedan chair to the royal ship that would take her the short distance to Thebes. She made that trip quite often to pray at Hathor's temple. The petite Queen needed the goddess more than ever now to guide her through the disaster of her marriage and her husbands cruelty. She often prayed that she would become pregnant quickly. Maybe then Iahotep would quit calling her to his bed.
When the boat docked, she was helped back into her sedan chair and carried to the Saraaya. People stopped to look at her, bowing respectfully before going back to their daily tasks. Upon arrival, she dismounted, knowing that her litter bearers would not move a muscle until she needed them again. Only two guards preceded her inside, for she wanted to blend in and not call attention to herself.
Spotting Sirdsett H'Sheifa with Sirdar H'Haikaddad, she approached them. Nefret peered at them from her mistress' shoulder. “Good day, Sirdsett, Sirdar, she said shyly but politely. To Iaheru, she added: “It's easy to tell that you have the best jewels in Egypt by the number of people already present. I look forward to seeing them.” She could have asked for a private showing, but she liked to mingle with her people. The young girl was a very unpretentious Queen.
Nonsense. My sister stands as a Goddess, and I a God, forever at her side.
Nia couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that, even if it was accompanied by a laugh. “Such extravagant compliments, my darling brother. It’s a wonder you aren’t a married man yet with a silver tongue like yours,” she teased, though she was hardly one to talk. Her brother was much like her with a new partner nearly every week, and she couldn’t imagine that he’d take any better to marriage than she would.
At his next words, she sobered a little, her nod somewhat sad. They had been separated far too much lately, and she was suffering the stress of that distance. Surely Iaheru wouldn’t begrudge them a night out together, and even if she did, they’d have to find a way around it. “Perhaps at the new moon?” she asked hopefully, bringing the smile back to her face. “No moonlight will make it easier to sneak out, especially if Mother is not particularly amenable to the idea.”
As if summoned by their words, Iaheru herself appeared at their backs, Nia turning to their mother with a smile somewhat stiffer than before. They had never been on the best of terms, and lately, the gulf between them only seemed that much wider. “Resplendent,” she added her own praise to Hena’s, and even if she was loath to pay her mother a compliment, it was true. The finely wrought attire suited the Sirdsett, accentuating the woman’s natural beauty with an extravagant flair that somehow complemented her typical modesty. “You’ll turn every head in the saraaya today, Mother.”
Luckily, the woman’s appearance did not last very long, Iaheru quickly taking her leave of them to mingle amongst their steadily growing throng of guests. Nia’s eyes followed her mother as she made her way over to Narmer, the young woman’s face tightening yet again. So, her intended had arrived. No doubt, she would have to make her own greetings soon enough, but she’d put that moment off for as long as she could. For now, she’d simply savor the time she had with her brother before reality came crashing back in.
At Hena’s suggestion for wine, the young woman’s face visibly brightened. Making no protest as he took her arm, she nodded heartily in agreement before falling into step with him as they made their way toward the refreshment table. Before they could get there, however, they were interrupted again—Nia fighting to keep the annoyed impatience from her expression as she turned toward the unfamiliar woman.
It was clear this woman was not unfamiliar with her brother, though, Nia vaguely raising an eyebrow in her youngest sibling’s direction. The woman’s use of Akhenaten’s nickname suggested an even deeper familiarity, Nia’s eyebrow raising even further into her head. Who was this, and how had she never met her before?
When the woman introduced herself as a fallen star, Nia nearly choked on a laugh. Clearly, this Anastasia had a high opinion of herself for a Greek to refer to herself as a star in a country that so revered the heavens. Now, the real question was, did she actually live up to such a moniker? Somehow, she doubted it. But then again, she’d yet to meet a woman she thought deserved her brother.
Nia was not an unkind woman, so instead of saying any of this, she covered her laugh with a warm smile and lightly squeezed the hand offered to her. “A pleasure to meet you, Anastasia. I did not know my dear brother had invited anyone to accompany him this evening.” She looked at Hena with a familiar look, a gleam in her eyes that promised a bout of intense questioning later.
Turning her attention back to Anastasia, she asked, “How did you two meet, if you don’t mind my asking?
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Nonsense. My sister stands as a Goddess, and I a God, forever at her side.
Nia couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that, even if it was accompanied by a laugh. “Such extravagant compliments, my darling brother. It’s a wonder you aren’t a married man yet with a silver tongue like yours,” she teased, though she was hardly one to talk. Her brother was much like her with a new partner nearly every week, and she couldn’t imagine that he’d take any better to marriage than she would.
At his next words, she sobered a little, her nod somewhat sad. They had been separated far too much lately, and she was suffering the stress of that distance. Surely Iaheru wouldn’t begrudge them a night out together, and even if she did, they’d have to find a way around it. “Perhaps at the new moon?” she asked hopefully, bringing the smile back to her face. “No moonlight will make it easier to sneak out, especially if Mother is not particularly amenable to the idea.”
As if summoned by their words, Iaheru herself appeared at their backs, Nia turning to their mother with a smile somewhat stiffer than before. They had never been on the best of terms, and lately, the gulf between them only seemed that much wider. “Resplendent,” she added her own praise to Hena’s, and even if she was loath to pay her mother a compliment, it was true. The finely wrought attire suited the Sirdsett, accentuating the woman’s natural beauty with an extravagant flair that somehow complemented her typical modesty. “You’ll turn every head in the saraaya today, Mother.”
Luckily, the woman’s appearance did not last very long, Iaheru quickly taking her leave of them to mingle amongst their steadily growing throng of guests. Nia’s eyes followed her mother as she made her way over to Narmer, the young woman’s face tightening yet again. So, her intended had arrived. No doubt, she would have to make her own greetings soon enough, but she’d put that moment off for as long as she could. For now, she’d simply savor the time she had with her brother before reality came crashing back in.
At Hena’s suggestion for wine, the young woman’s face visibly brightened. Making no protest as he took her arm, she nodded heartily in agreement before falling into step with him as they made their way toward the refreshment table. Before they could get there, however, they were interrupted again—Nia fighting to keep the annoyed impatience from her expression as she turned toward the unfamiliar woman.
It was clear this woman was not unfamiliar with her brother, though, Nia vaguely raising an eyebrow in her youngest sibling’s direction. The woman’s use of Akhenaten’s nickname suggested an even deeper familiarity, Nia’s eyebrow raising even further into her head. Who was this, and how had she never met her before?
When the woman introduced herself as a fallen star, Nia nearly choked on a laugh. Clearly, this Anastasia had a high opinion of herself for a Greek to refer to herself as a star in a country that so revered the heavens. Now, the real question was, did she actually live up to such a moniker? Somehow, she doubted it. But then again, she’d yet to meet a woman she thought deserved her brother.
Nia was not an unkind woman, so instead of saying any of this, she covered her laugh with a warm smile and lightly squeezed the hand offered to her. “A pleasure to meet you, Anastasia. I did not know my dear brother had invited anyone to accompany him this evening.” She looked at Hena with a familiar look, a gleam in her eyes that promised a bout of intense questioning later.
Turning her attention back to Anastasia, she asked, “How did you two meet, if you don’t mind my asking?
Nonsense. My sister stands as a Goddess, and I a God, forever at her side.
Nia couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that, even if it was accompanied by a laugh. “Such extravagant compliments, my darling brother. It’s a wonder you aren’t a married man yet with a silver tongue like yours,” she teased, though she was hardly one to talk. Her brother was much like her with a new partner nearly every week, and she couldn’t imagine that he’d take any better to marriage than she would.
At his next words, she sobered a little, her nod somewhat sad. They had been separated far too much lately, and she was suffering the stress of that distance. Surely Iaheru wouldn’t begrudge them a night out together, and even if she did, they’d have to find a way around it. “Perhaps at the new moon?” she asked hopefully, bringing the smile back to her face. “No moonlight will make it easier to sneak out, especially if Mother is not particularly amenable to the idea.”
As if summoned by their words, Iaheru herself appeared at their backs, Nia turning to their mother with a smile somewhat stiffer than before. They had never been on the best of terms, and lately, the gulf between them only seemed that much wider. “Resplendent,” she added her own praise to Hena’s, and even if she was loath to pay her mother a compliment, it was true. The finely wrought attire suited the Sirdsett, accentuating the woman’s natural beauty with an extravagant flair that somehow complemented her typical modesty. “You’ll turn every head in the saraaya today, Mother.”
Luckily, the woman’s appearance did not last very long, Iaheru quickly taking her leave of them to mingle amongst their steadily growing throng of guests. Nia’s eyes followed her mother as she made her way over to Narmer, the young woman’s face tightening yet again. So, her intended had arrived. No doubt, she would have to make her own greetings soon enough, but she’d put that moment off for as long as she could. For now, she’d simply savor the time she had with her brother before reality came crashing back in.
At Hena’s suggestion for wine, the young woman’s face visibly brightened. Making no protest as he took her arm, she nodded heartily in agreement before falling into step with him as they made their way toward the refreshment table. Before they could get there, however, they were interrupted again—Nia fighting to keep the annoyed impatience from her expression as she turned toward the unfamiliar woman.
It was clear this woman was not unfamiliar with her brother, though, Nia vaguely raising an eyebrow in her youngest sibling’s direction. The woman’s use of Akhenaten’s nickname suggested an even deeper familiarity, Nia’s eyebrow raising even further into her head. Who was this, and how had she never met her before?
When the woman introduced herself as a fallen star, Nia nearly choked on a laugh. Clearly, this Anastasia had a high opinion of herself for a Greek to refer to herself as a star in a country that so revered the heavens. Now, the real question was, did she actually live up to such a moniker? Somehow, she doubted it. But then again, she’d yet to meet a woman she thought deserved her brother.
Nia was not an unkind woman, so instead of saying any of this, she covered her laugh with a warm smile and lightly squeezed the hand offered to her. “A pleasure to meet you, Anastasia. I did not know my dear brother had invited anyone to accompany him this evening.” She looked at Hena with a familiar look, a gleam in her eyes that promised a bout of intense questioning later.
Turning her attention back to Anastasia, she asked, “How did you two meet, if you don’t mind my asking?
Akhenaten snorted when his sister spoke of him being married.
“Lets hope that I never fall to such unfortunate things.” He said in a low voice with a grin, he knew it was expected of him to wed, but he would resist it for as long as he could. He didn’t want to be married. Who ever was stuck with him would not be a happy wife, for he had no plans on giving up his hedonistic ways even when married, he would lay with women other than his wife.
“You worry far too much about mother. I have spent my life slipping through her overbearing grasp, it will be no more difficult now than it has been in the past.” He assured her.
They made their way over to where they could procure themselves some wine, Hena wishing to ply himself with plenty of wine to make this day more bearable, but it seemed as if they were never going to make it to the table, for he heard a familiar voice.
Hena visibly tensed up as he heard a voice that wasn’t Nia’s using his nickname. No one called him that outside his family, and it sounded wrong in Ana’s slight foreign accent. He supposed he brought it on himself, signing his letter to her as such. He hadn’t been thinking if he was being honest, he had just signed off as he would normally. He didn’t write letters to people that weren’t Nia when the two of them were apart. He didn’t care to keep in contact with anyone else outside his sister.
He was about to speak when suddenly in a whirl she was speaking to them, introducing herself and talking about how the two of them had met. He didn’t remember her being so... talkative. Suddenly her lips were on his, and he nearly pushed her away out of pure shock, but managed to get a hold of himself and return the kiss. His hands went to her arms, and when she whispered to him, he whispered back.
“Lord H’Sheifa while we’re here, my fallen star. You’re in noble company.” He replied, when she pulled away, he pulled her to his side and put his arm around her shoulders, to show all who may look that she was in fact his, at least for the night.
Hena groaned internally when he saw the look on Nia’s face. He knew that he was going to be subject to a line of questioning that he would equate to torture. His sister knew everything about his life, and yet he had failed to mention his meeting with the woman who now stood at his side. His arm was draped casually around her shoulders. He pulled away without a word for a moment, heading for the wine, he grabbed three full cups and brought them back, offering one to each of them before he took a long drink from his own. He definitely needed this more than ever.
“Anastasia, this is my sister Neithotep H’Sheifa, the beauty of Egypt.” He introduced, hoping that his guest would know well enough to address his sister properly.
He took another drink from his wine before answering his sister.
“We met a few nights ago in a tavern. Anastasia is a bard of true talent. The night ended in an opium den when this one disappeared on me.” He said, snickering a little. He still wished to know where she had disappeared to. Perhaps opium was a bit much for her?
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Akhenaten snorted when his sister spoke of him being married.
“Lets hope that I never fall to such unfortunate things.” He said in a low voice with a grin, he knew it was expected of him to wed, but he would resist it for as long as he could. He didn’t want to be married. Who ever was stuck with him would not be a happy wife, for he had no plans on giving up his hedonistic ways even when married, he would lay with women other than his wife.
“You worry far too much about mother. I have spent my life slipping through her overbearing grasp, it will be no more difficult now than it has been in the past.” He assured her.
They made their way over to where they could procure themselves some wine, Hena wishing to ply himself with plenty of wine to make this day more bearable, but it seemed as if they were never going to make it to the table, for he heard a familiar voice.
Hena visibly tensed up as he heard a voice that wasn’t Nia’s using his nickname. No one called him that outside his family, and it sounded wrong in Ana’s slight foreign accent. He supposed he brought it on himself, signing his letter to her as such. He hadn’t been thinking if he was being honest, he had just signed off as he would normally. He didn’t write letters to people that weren’t Nia when the two of them were apart. He didn’t care to keep in contact with anyone else outside his sister.
He was about to speak when suddenly in a whirl she was speaking to them, introducing herself and talking about how the two of them had met. He didn’t remember her being so... talkative. Suddenly her lips were on his, and he nearly pushed her away out of pure shock, but managed to get a hold of himself and return the kiss. His hands went to her arms, and when she whispered to him, he whispered back.
“Lord H’Sheifa while we’re here, my fallen star. You’re in noble company.” He replied, when she pulled away, he pulled her to his side and put his arm around her shoulders, to show all who may look that she was in fact his, at least for the night.
Hena groaned internally when he saw the look on Nia’s face. He knew that he was going to be subject to a line of questioning that he would equate to torture. His sister knew everything about his life, and yet he had failed to mention his meeting with the woman who now stood at his side. His arm was draped casually around her shoulders. He pulled away without a word for a moment, heading for the wine, he grabbed three full cups and brought them back, offering one to each of them before he took a long drink from his own. He definitely needed this more than ever.
“Anastasia, this is my sister Neithotep H’Sheifa, the beauty of Egypt.” He introduced, hoping that his guest would know well enough to address his sister properly.
He took another drink from his wine before answering his sister.
“We met a few nights ago in a tavern. Anastasia is a bard of true talent. The night ended in an opium den when this one disappeared on me.” He said, snickering a little. He still wished to know where she had disappeared to. Perhaps opium was a bit much for her?
Akhenaten snorted when his sister spoke of him being married.
“Lets hope that I never fall to such unfortunate things.” He said in a low voice with a grin, he knew it was expected of him to wed, but he would resist it for as long as he could. He didn’t want to be married. Who ever was stuck with him would not be a happy wife, for he had no plans on giving up his hedonistic ways even when married, he would lay with women other than his wife.
“You worry far too much about mother. I have spent my life slipping through her overbearing grasp, it will be no more difficult now than it has been in the past.” He assured her.
They made their way over to where they could procure themselves some wine, Hena wishing to ply himself with plenty of wine to make this day more bearable, but it seemed as if they were never going to make it to the table, for he heard a familiar voice.
Hena visibly tensed up as he heard a voice that wasn’t Nia’s using his nickname. No one called him that outside his family, and it sounded wrong in Ana’s slight foreign accent. He supposed he brought it on himself, signing his letter to her as such. He hadn’t been thinking if he was being honest, he had just signed off as he would normally. He didn’t write letters to people that weren’t Nia when the two of them were apart. He didn’t care to keep in contact with anyone else outside his sister.
He was about to speak when suddenly in a whirl she was speaking to them, introducing herself and talking about how the two of them had met. He didn’t remember her being so... talkative. Suddenly her lips were on his, and he nearly pushed her away out of pure shock, but managed to get a hold of himself and return the kiss. His hands went to her arms, and when she whispered to him, he whispered back.
“Lord H’Sheifa while we’re here, my fallen star. You’re in noble company.” He replied, when she pulled away, he pulled her to his side and put his arm around her shoulders, to show all who may look that she was in fact his, at least for the night.
Hena groaned internally when he saw the look on Nia’s face. He knew that he was going to be subject to a line of questioning that he would equate to torture. His sister knew everything about his life, and yet he had failed to mention his meeting with the woman who now stood at his side. His arm was draped casually around her shoulders. He pulled away without a word for a moment, heading for the wine, he grabbed three full cups and brought them back, offering one to each of them before he took a long drink from his own. He definitely needed this more than ever.
“Anastasia, this is my sister Neithotep H’Sheifa, the beauty of Egypt.” He introduced, hoping that his guest would know well enough to address his sister properly.
He took another drink from his wine before answering his sister.
“We met a few nights ago in a tavern. Anastasia is a bard of true talent. The night ended in an opium den when this one disappeared on me.” He said, snickering a little. He still wished to know where she had disappeared to. Perhaps opium was a bit much for her?
He stared at the faded reflection of himself in the shiny metal. His mother had dug out some of Narutt's court clothing and insisted that Kissan wear it when accompanying his uncle to this...spectacle for lack of a better word. As he stared at the linen coverings he couldn't help feeling small. what was he doing? He couldn't take his father's place, he didn't want to take his father's place. He wanted to go to war, he wanted... His mind drifted off to the words the Pharaoh had said.
With a sigh he fidgeted in the fine clothing and arranged the golden jeweled belt around his waist. It was fitting better now than it used to. The metal bracelets that slid up onto biceps too held their place with more ease. He was, by all rights coming into his own as a man of the house. Why was it then that he still felt like a boy?
He shook away these thoughts and finished getting ready. After all, he didn't want to make them late.
A servant had brought in the two bays from where they ran. Snorting and standing at attention in the stable yard, Kissan nodded to the servant and together they silently prepared the chariot and horses. As the harness slid over the smooth coats of the anxious fine boned creatures, they snorted and pawed, the sounds and smell of their coats mixing to harken back memories that had long been buried.
"Come my little cub" the voice had called. "Come stand beside me here". Kissan remembered running to him, jumping onto the chariot before it jolted forward. Clinging to his father's leg for balance as the chariot rattled off across the dessert for on of their hunts together.
Kissan felt his eyes threatening to water and quickly wiped it away while hidden behind the great bay's neck. Patting the horse gently he went around to the other and fitted the long reins to its headdress. He looked up and fanned out the great feathers on affixed to their bridles and stepped back for a moment to admire them. They were ready.
The young heir sent the servant and the chariot ahead to the front of the Hei while he slipped through the house to grab the last few things he needed and wash off his hands.
By the time he had made his way to the front of the house, Narmer was already in the chariot and seemed perhaps annoyed at having to wait for Kissan.
Kissan signed to himself and realized it was going to be one of those nights. You know the ones. The nights that Narmer thought himself grand leader and expected the children to fall into place. At least the girls were spared tonight. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his uncle's reminder. "Yes uncle" he managed while bracing against the chariot as it rocked and shook its way to the neighboring Hei.
When they finally arrived Kissan could not help but wonder as he always did at the sheer wealthy displayed by the family. While his home it was evident that the wealth was spread thing to cover the years of disrepair like a facade, here everything was soaked, nay saturated with wealth.
They exchanged greetings at the door and as they emerged into the main rooms, Kissan tried to keep himself from staring at all that glittered around them. He briefly wondered what his Hei could possibly offer this family that they would even be considering a marriage with Narmer. Something bothered him about it but he couldn't put a finger on it. Turning to his uncle once they were alone with a slightly forced smile he gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. "Remember Uncle, don't mess it up" he quipped as if the tables had somehow turned from Narmer's earlier warning. With that Kissan smiled a somewhat more genuine smile and turned to go see what refreshments might be found in this sea of jewels.
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He stared at the faded reflection of himself in the shiny metal. His mother had dug out some of Narutt's court clothing and insisted that Kissan wear it when accompanying his uncle to this...spectacle for lack of a better word. As he stared at the linen coverings he couldn't help feeling small. what was he doing? He couldn't take his father's place, he didn't want to take his father's place. He wanted to go to war, he wanted... His mind drifted off to the words the Pharaoh had said.
With a sigh he fidgeted in the fine clothing and arranged the golden jeweled belt around his waist. It was fitting better now than it used to. The metal bracelets that slid up onto biceps too held their place with more ease. He was, by all rights coming into his own as a man of the house. Why was it then that he still felt like a boy?
He shook away these thoughts and finished getting ready. After all, he didn't want to make them late.
A servant had brought in the two bays from where they ran. Snorting and standing at attention in the stable yard, Kissan nodded to the servant and together they silently prepared the chariot and horses. As the harness slid over the smooth coats of the anxious fine boned creatures, they snorted and pawed, the sounds and smell of their coats mixing to harken back memories that had long been buried.
"Come my little cub" the voice had called. "Come stand beside me here". Kissan remembered running to him, jumping onto the chariot before it jolted forward. Clinging to his father's leg for balance as the chariot rattled off across the dessert for on of their hunts together.
Kissan felt his eyes threatening to water and quickly wiped it away while hidden behind the great bay's neck. Patting the horse gently he went around to the other and fitted the long reins to its headdress. He looked up and fanned out the great feathers on affixed to their bridles and stepped back for a moment to admire them. They were ready.
The young heir sent the servant and the chariot ahead to the front of the Hei while he slipped through the house to grab the last few things he needed and wash off his hands.
By the time he had made his way to the front of the house, Narmer was already in the chariot and seemed perhaps annoyed at having to wait for Kissan.
Kissan signed to himself and realized it was going to be one of those nights. You know the ones. The nights that Narmer thought himself grand leader and expected the children to fall into place. At least the girls were spared tonight. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his uncle's reminder. "Yes uncle" he managed while bracing against the chariot as it rocked and shook its way to the neighboring Hei.
When they finally arrived Kissan could not help but wonder as he always did at the sheer wealthy displayed by the family. While his home it was evident that the wealth was spread thing to cover the years of disrepair like a facade, here everything was soaked, nay saturated with wealth.
They exchanged greetings at the door and as they emerged into the main rooms, Kissan tried to keep himself from staring at all that glittered around them. He briefly wondered what his Hei could possibly offer this family that they would even be considering a marriage with Narmer. Something bothered him about it but he couldn't put a finger on it. Turning to his uncle once they were alone with a slightly forced smile he gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. "Remember Uncle, don't mess it up" he quipped as if the tables had somehow turned from Narmer's earlier warning. With that Kissan smiled a somewhat more genuine smile and turned to go see what refreshments might be found in this sea of jewels.
He stared at the faded reflection of himself in the shiny metal. His mother had dug out some of Narutt's court clothing and insisted that Kissan wear it when accompanying his uncle to this...spectacle for lack of a better word. As he stared at the linen coverings he couldn't help feeling small. what was he doing? He couldn't take his father's place, he didn't want to take his father's place. He wanted to go to war, he wanted... His mind drifted off to the words the Pharaoh had said.
With a sigh he fidgeted in the fine clothing and arranged the golden jeweled belt around his waist. It was fitting better now than it used to. The metal bracelets that slid up onto biceps too held their place with more ease. He was, by all rights coming into his own as a man of the house. Why was it then that he still felt like a boy?
He shook away these thoughts and finished getting ready. After all, he didn't want to make them late.
A servant had brought in the two bays from where they ran. Snorting and standing at attention in the stable yard, Kissan nodded to the servant and together they silently prepared the chariot and horses. As the harness slid over the smooth coats of the anxious fine boned creatures, they snorted and pawed, the sounds and smell of their coats mixing to harken back memories that had long been buried.
"Come my little cub" the voice had called. "Come stand beside me here". Kissan remembered running to him, jumping onto the chariot before it jolted forward. Clinging to his father's leg for balance as the chariot rattled off across the dessert for on of their hunts together.
Kissan felt his eyes threatening to water and quickly wiped it away while hidden behind the great bay's neck. Patting the horse gently he went around to the other and fitted the long reins to its headdress. He looked up and fanned out the great feathers on affixed to their bridles and stepped back for a moment to admire them. They were ready.
The young heir sent the servant and the chariot ahead to the front of the Hei while he slipped through the house to grab the last few things he needed and wash off his hands.
By the time he had made his way to the front of the house, Narmer was already in the chariot and seemed perhaps annoyed at having to wait for Kissan.
Kissan signed to himself and realized it was going to be one of those nights. You know the ones. The nights that Narmer thought himself grand leader and expected the children to fall into place. At least the girls were spared tonight. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his uncle's reminder. "Yes uncle" he managed while bracing against the chariot as it rocked and shook its way to the neighboring Hei.
When they finally arrived Kissan could not help but wonder as he always did at the sheer wealthy displayed by the family. While his home it was evident that the wealth was spread thing to cover the years of disrepair like a facade, here everything was soaked, nay saturated with wealth.
They exchanged greetings at the door and as they emerged into the main rooms, Kissan tried to keep himself from staring at all that glittered around them. He briefly wondered what his Hei could possibly offer this family that they would even be considering a marriage with Narmer. Something bothered him about it but he couldn't put a finger on it. Turning to his uncle once they were alone with a slightly forced smile he gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. "Remember Uncle, don't mess it up" he quipped as if the tables had somehow turned from Narmer's earlier warning. With that Kissan smiled a somewhat more genuine smile and turned to go see what refreshments might be found in this sea of jewels.
Unlike the glittering gods and goddesses around her, bedecked in their finery, their jewels, their kohl and rouge, with silver and gold braided into their hair, Nenet was dressed in one of her plain, dark blue kalasiris. To her mother’s eye, she was rushing from vendor to vendor, but what she was really doing was walking back and forth, looking, nodding, and walking the next way, a tablet hugged to her chest in order to appear busy without actually being so. The second anyone approached her, she’d stammer out an excuse and pretend to suddenly be wholly engrossed in writing down the names of the jewels before her. The plan was, if she did have to flash the tablet at someone, they’d get the gist of what she was writing without realizing it was utter nonsense and wasn’t truly saying anything at all.
She wove around Nefertaari, attempting to stay out of her beautiful sister’s way. If she’d had more curiosity, she might have wondered why Neithotep was the only one of Iaheru’s daughters trussed up so finely, but she didn’t wonder. All Nenet cared about was that she wasn’t a prized cow up for auction. At first, none of the guests were too terrible and she was uncomfortable, but alright in the crowd. No one was speaking to her directly, or looking at her. She was pretty certain that she looked like a servant if someone glanced her way, which was, in a word, perfect. With her hair tied at the nape of her neck, no jewels to speak of, and a dress so utterly uninteresting, she was proud of herself for being so forgettable. Evening Goal: Remain that way.
Her attention was drawn to her mother fawning over her elder sister and younger brother. Together, the three of them took up the room’s entire attention and she looked on the scene with utter contempt. Foolish. That’s what they looked like. Arrayed in too many pieces that she was practically blinded by the spectacle. Wouldn’t it have been better for them to dress plainly in order to highlight the pieces of jewelry they wished to sell? She rather felt they were selling themselves, rather than necklaces, rings, bracelets, bangles, earrings, and the like. Her list went go on and on.
Now that Iaheru was busy, and her father across the way speaking to someone, Nenet saw her chance. Clasping the tablet to her breast, she backed up, step by step, between vendor tables, pressing her back to the wall, and edging around the room. Her wide brown eyes never rested on any one person in particular, though she did give the smallest pause when she saw the queen speaking to her mother. While she might have liked to be in the queen’s illustrious presence, she knew if she went over, she would be made to speak. Speak, stammer, stutter, look like an utter idiot. The very thought of it made her tremble and so she took in a deep breath and stuck to her plan. Her eyes met that of a man across the room for a single moment but she didn’t hold his gaze and, instead, slid toward a side door that would have led her out to the courtyard and to freedom...if it hadn't been locked.
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Unlike the glittering gods and goddesses around her, bedecked in their finery, their jewels, their kohl and rouge, with silver and gold braided into their hair, Nenet was dressed in one of her plain, dark blue kalasiris. To her mother’s eye, she was rushing from vendor to vendor, but what she was really doing was walking back and forth, looking, nodding, and walking the next way, a tablet hugged to her chest in order to appear busy without actually being so. The second anyone approached her, she’d stammer out an excuse and pretend to suddenly be wholly engrossed in writing down the names of the jewels before her. The plan was, if she did have to flash the tablet at someone, they’d get the gist of what she was writing without realizing it was utter nonsense and wasn’t truly saying anything at all.
She wove around Nefertaari, attempting to stay out of her beautiful sister’s way. If she’d had more curiosity, she might have wondered why Neithotep was the only one of Iaheru’s daughters trussed up so finely, but she didn’t wonder. All Nenet cared about was that she wasn’t a prized cow up for auction. At first, none of the guests were too terrible and she was uncomfortable, but alright in the crowd. No one was speaking to her directly, or looking at her. She was pretty certain that she looked like a servant if someone glanced her way, which was, in a word, perfect. With her hair tied at the nape of her neck, no jewels to speak of, and a dress so utterly uninteresting, she was proud of herself for being so forgettable. Evening Goal: Remain that way.
Her attention was drawn to her mother fawning over her elder sister and younger brother. Together, the three of them took up the room’s entire attention and she looked on the scene with utter contempt. Foolish. That’s what they looked like. Arrayed in too many pieces that she was practically blinded by the spectacle. Wouldn’t it have been better for them to dress plainly in order to highlight the pieces of jewelry they wished to sell? She rather felt they were selling themselves, rather than necklaces, rings, bracelets, bangles, earrings, and the like. Her list went go on and on.
Now that Iaheru was busy, and her father across the way speaking to someone, Nenet saw her chance. Clasping the tablet to her breast, she backed up, step by step, between vendor tables, pressing her back to the wall, and edging around the room. Her wide brown eyes never rested on any one person in particular, though she did give the smallest pause when she saw the queen speaking to her mother. While she might have liked to be in the queen’s illustrious presence, she knew if she went over, she would be made to speak. Speak, stammer, stutter, look like an utter idiot. The very thought of it made her tremble and so she took in a deep breath and stuck to her plan. Her eyes met that of a man across the room for a single moment but she didn’t hold his gaze and, instead, slid toward a side door that would have led her out to the courtyard and to freedom...if it hadn't been locked.
Unlike the glittering gods and goddesses around her, bedecked in their finery, their jewels, their kohl and rouge, with silver and gold braided into their hair, Nenet was dressed in one of her plain, dark blue kalasiris. To her mother’s eye, she was rushing from vendor to vendor, but what she was really doing was walking back and forth, looking, nodding, and walking the next way, a tablet hugged to her chest in order to appear busy without actually being so. The second anyone approached her, she’d stammer out an excuse and pretend to suddenly be wholly engrossed in writing down the names of the jewels before her. The plan was, if she did have to flash the tablet at someone, they’d get the gist of what she was writing without realizing it was utter nonsense and wasn’t truly saying anything at all.
She wove around Nefertaari, attempting to stay out of her beautiful sister’s way. If she’d had more curiosity, she might have wondered why Neithotep was the only one of Iaheru’s daughters trussed up so finely, but she didn’t wonder. All Nenet cared about was that she wasn’t a prized cow up for auction. At first, none of the guests were too terrible and she was uncomfortable, but alright in the crowd. No one was speaking to her directly, or looking at her. She was pretty certain that she looked like a servant if someone glanced her way, which was, in a word, perfect. With her hair tied at the nape of her neck, no jewels to speak of, and a dress so utterly uninteresting, she was proud of herself for being so forgettable. Evening Goal: Remain that way.
Her attention was drawn to her mother fawning over her elder sister and younger brother. Together, the three of them took up the room’s entire attention and she looked on the scene with utter contempt. Foolish. That’s what they looked like. Arrayed in too many pieces that she was practically blinded by the spectacle. Wouldn’t it have been better for them to dress plainly in order to highlight the pieces of jewelry they wished to sell? She rather felt they were selling themselves, rather than necklaces, rings, bracelets, bangles, earrings, and the like. Her list went go on and on.
Now that Iaheru was busy, and her father across the way speaking to someone, Nenet saw her chance. Clasping the tablet to her breast, she backed up, step by step, between vendor tables, pressing her back to the wall, and edging around the room. Her wide brown eyes never rested on any one person in particular, though she did give the smallest pause when she saw the queen speaking to her mother. While she might have liked to be in the queen’s illustrious presence, she knew if she went over, she would be made to speak. Speak, stammer, stutter, look like an utter idiot. The very thought of it made her tremble and so she took in a deep breath and stuck to her plan. Her eyes met that of a man across the room for a single moment but she didn’t hold his gaze and, instead, slid toward a side door that would have led her out to the courtyard and to freedom...if it hadn't been locked.
Curveball See How They Shine
With the arrival of the privileged guests to receive invitations to the affair, the doors to the Saraaya H'Sheifa are closed upon those within. Such tight security for such an event is prudent given the number of jewels around and yet this wasn't an instruction given by the Hei... Are we sure the doors will now open again...?
JD
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JD
Staff Team
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With the arrival of the privileged guests to receive invitations to the affair, the doors to the Saraaya H'Sheifa are closed upon those within. Such tight security for such an event is prudent given the number of jewels around and yet this wasn't an instruction given by the Hei... Are we sure the doors will now open again...?
Curveball See How They Shine
With the arrival of the privileged guests to receive invitations to the affair, the doors to the Saraaya H'Sheifa are closed upon those within. Such tight security for such an event is prudent given the number of jewels around and yet this wasn't an instruction given by the Hei... Are we sure the doors will now open again...?
As the doors shut down upon the main hall of the Saraaya of Hei Sheifa, it was only a moment later before a torch was extinguished at the end of the chamber. Heads turned sharply in that direction, attempting to make out what may have caused the internal lights to be taken out, yet there was nothing to be seen in the now shadowy darkness in one corner of the open space.
Another was flattened into shadow at the other end of the hall, setting the guests' heads on a swivel as they tried to catch the perpetrator - surely a different one to the first offence? For, no-one could dart across a room of people without being seen?
Another was extinguished.
Then a fourth.
Voices started to become raised in worry and panic as the chamber gradually fell into darkness, piece by piece.
A shadow moved here and then there was a subtle shift of cloth. Before finally only three key torches still burnt with dim light. The flames gave an eerie, heartbeat-like glow to the hall. As the fear within the room escalated, so too did the flickers of light that barely kept those beside one another visible to each.
And as the shadow of a human being, too fleeting for the eye to truly see and too silent for one to hear, darted passed a corner and around a bejewelled display there was a hushed and fearful gasp when instincts more than senses alerted the guests to Akhmad's presence.
For there he was, beyond the sight of all, slinking in the darkness, one with the shadows... and helping himself to the treasures laid so delectably before his grasp...
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Check out their information page here.
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As the doors shut down upon the main hall of the Saraaya of Hei Sheifa, it was only a moment later before a torch was extinguished at the end of the chamber. Heads turned sharply in that direction, attempting to make out what may have caused the internal lights to be taken out, yet there was nothing to be seen in the now shadowy darkness in one corner of the open space.
Another was flattened into shadow at the other end of the hall, setting the guests' heads on a swivel as they tried to catch the perpetrator - surely a different one to the first offence? For, no-one could dart across a room of people without being seen?
Another was extinguished.
Then a fourth.
Voices started to become raised in worry and panic as the chamber gradually fell into darkness, piece by piece.
A shadow moved here and then there was a subtle shift of cloth. Before finally only three key torches still burnt with dim light. The flames gave an eerie, heartbeat-like glow to the hall. As the fear within the room escalated, so too did the flickers of light that barely kept those beside one another visible to each.
And as the shadow of a human being, too fleeting for the eye to truly see and too silent for one to hear, darted passed a corner and around a bejewelled display there was a hushed and fearful gasp when instincts more than senses alerted the guests to Akhmad's presence.
For there he was, beyond the sight of all, slinking in the darkness, one with the shadows... and helping himself to the treasures laid so delectably before his grasp...
As the doors shut down upon the main hall of the Saraaya of Hei Sheifa, it was only a moment later before a torch was extinguished at the end of the chamber. Heads turned sharply in that direction, attempting to make out what may have caused the internal lights to be taken out, yet there was nothing to be seen in the now shadowy darkness in one corner of the open space.
Another was flattened into shadow at the other end of the hall, setting the guests' heads on a swivel as they tried to catch the perpetrator - surely a different one to the first offence? For, no-one could dart across a room of people without being seen?
Another was extinguished.
Then a fourth.
Voices started to become raised in worry and panic as the chamber gradually fell into darkness, piece by piece.
A shadow moved here and then there was a subtle shift of cloth. Before finally only three key torches still burnt with dim light. The flames gave an eerie, heartbeat-like glow to the hall. As the fear within the room escalated, so too did the flickers of light that barely kept those beside one another visible to each.
And as the shadow of a human being, too fleeting for the eye to truly see and too silent for one to hear, darted passed a corner and around a bejewelled display there was a hushed and fearful gasp when instincts more than senses alerted the guests to Akhmad's presence.
For there he was, beyond the sight of all, slinking in the darkness, one with the shadows... and helping himself to the treasures laid so delectably before his grasp...