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Akhenaten was not in a good mood, being forced to waste his time escorting his sister to the market was not his idea of a good day. Didn’t they have slaves for this sort of thing? An argument he had presented to his father, to no avail. The man still insisted his son and heir escort his sister. He had stormed off in anger, though he fully intended to do as his father asked. He knew when to pick his battles, he wasn’t looking to get disowned. He knew that wasn’t something his parents could be easily pushed to do, especially without another male heir in the family, but if he pushed hard enough, it was a possibility.
So despite his anger and unwillingness to see to the task, he headed for his sisters room, hoping that she would be there and he wouldn’t have to go hunting for her. She was the complete opposite of her brother, quiet and reserved and preferring to spend her time alone instead of with anyone. It was hard to believe that the two were even related.
As he walked to her room, he tried his best to calm himself down. He wasn’t mad at his sister, nor was he truly mad at his father, he was just mad that his plans had been altered and he was expected to escort her, despite the fact that they had slaves who were supposed to be the ones doing these sorts of things.
He made it to her room and knocked three times loudly on her door before he pushed it open with no regard for whether or not she wanted him to.
“Come. Father has asked me to escort you to market today, and I will not waste my entire day waiting for you.” He said, snapping at his sister though these were the first words the two had broken that day. The irritation was clear on his face, and he supposed that Nenet wouldn’t be all that happy about having to spend time with her brother either. They had never been close, Hena had Nia and Nenet had Sutekh, though now he supposed that she didn’t. He wasn’t aware of an existing relationship between Nenet and any of their other siblings.
Or perhaps they were all close and Hena simply didn’t care enough to notice.
“We will find a slave to bring, I’m not carrying anything for you.” He stated, as if he was beneath such things.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Akhenaten was not in a good mood, being forced to waste his time escorting his sister to the market was not his idea of a good day. Didn’t they have slaves for this sort of thing? An argument he had presented to his father, to no avail. The man still insisted his son and heir escort his sister. He had stormed off in anger, though he fully intended to do as his father asked. He knew when to pick his battles, he wasn’t looking to get disowned. He knew that wasn’t something his parents could be easily pushed to do, especially without another male heir in the family, but if he pushed hard enough, it was a possibility.
So despite his anger and unwillingness to see to the task, he headed for his sisters room, hoping that she would be there and he wouldn’t have to go hunting for her. She was the complete opposite of her brother, quiet and reserved and preferring to spend her time alone instead of with anyone. It was hard to believe that the two were even related.
As he walked to her room, he tried his best to calm himself down. He wasn’t mad at his sister, nor was he truly mad at his father, he was just mad that his plans had been altered and he was expected to escort her, despite the fact that they had slaves who were supposed to be the ones doing these sorts of things.
He made it to her room and knocked three times loudly on her door before he pushed it open with no regard for whether or not she wanted him to.
“Come. Father has asked me to escort you to market today, and I will not waste my entire day waiting for you.” He said, snapping at his sister though these were the first words the two had broken that day. The irritation was clear on his face, and he supposed that Nenet wouldn’t be all that happy about having to spend time with her brother either. They had never been close, Hena had Nia and Nenet had Sutekh, though now he supposed that she didn’t. He wasn’t aware of an existing relationship between Nenet and any of their other siblings.
Or perhaps they were all close and Hena simply didn’t care enough to notice.
“We will find a slave to bring, I’m not carrying anything for you.” He stated, as if he was beneath such things.
Akhenaten was not in a good mood, being forced to waste his time escorting his sister to the market was not his idea of a good day. Didn’t they have slaves for this sort of thing? An argument he had presented to his father, to no avail. The man still insisted his son and heir escort his sister. He had stormed off in anger, though he fully intended to do as his father asked. He knew when to pick his battles, he wasn’t looking to get disowned. He knew that wasn’t something his parents could be easily pushed to do, especially without another male heir in the family, but if he pushed hard enough, it was a possibility.
So despite his anger and unwillingness to see to the task, he headed for his sisters room, hoping that she would be there and he wouldn’t have to go hunting for her. She was the complete opposite of her brother, quiet and reserved and preferring to spend her time alone instead of with anyone. It was hard to believe that the two were even related.
As he walked to her room, he tried his best to calm himself down. He wasn’t mad at his sister, nor was he truly mad at his father, he was just mad that his plans had been altered and he was expected to escort her, despite the fact that they had slaves who were supposed to be the ones doing these sorts of things.
He made it to her room and knocked three times loudly on her door before he pushed it open with no regard for whether or not she wanted him to.
“Come. Father has asked me to escort you to market today, and I will not waste my entire day waiting for you.” He said, snapping at his sister though these were the first words the two had broken that day. The irritation was clear on his face, and he supposed that Nenet wouldn’t be all that happy about having to spend time with her brother either. They had never been close, Hena had Nia and Nenet had Sutekh, though now he supposed that she didn’t. He wasn’t aware of an existing relationship between Nenet and any of their other siblings.
Or perhaps they were all close and Hena simply didn’t care enough to notice.
“We will find a slave to bring, I’m not carrying anything for you.” He stated, as if he was beneath such things.
Nenet lay on her bed, beneath the gauzy curtains that extended from one end of the four poster to the other. She’d pulled the curtains down to keep away the flies that found their way into her room through the open windows. Her room was at the corner of the house and, to that end, had windows on three walls. The shutters of each window were thrown back, allowing light and creating a constant breezeway that made the curtains move back and forth as though they were breathing. Up here in the quiet, she was on her back, book held up above her face, bare legs crossed at the ankle and propped up on the left most post of her bed. Her dress was a wrinkled mess from being lain on so long and her hair was still fluffy and mussed from sleep. When she’d gone down to breakfast this morning, she hadn’t bothered to tie it back.
She was so absorbed in her book, that she did not hear her brother’s footsteps in the hall as he stalked toward her door. Nor did she pay any mind to the voices of people calling to one another out in the streets beneath her window. Her narrow focus was on tales of a daring girl, boarding a merchant’s vessel and being borne away toward a wonderful adventure. This was a book she technically shouldn’t have. Not only did it depict a woman acting immorally, but she’d already kissed this merchant and the book strongly alluded to the fact that the girl wasn’t sleeping alone. Honestly it reminded her of Neithhotep, but she forced herself to picture someone else in the heroine’s place instead. Herself, for example.
Three successive knocks jarred her straight out of her chapter. The book slipped and fell on her face and she barely sat up in time to jerk her legs underneath her so that her brother wouldn’t have to see her bare butt from where her dress had been dipping away from her propped up ankles so high on the post. She stared, wide eyed and annoyed at his sullen face as he spoke.
“Come. Father has asked me to escort you to market today, and I will not waste my entire day waiting for you.”
“I’m n-n-not g-going t-to the mmmmarket t-tod-day,” she mumbled, heat flaming in her cheeks. He’d startled her into speaking. But at his sullen agitation made her close the book anyway, despite being positive she’d mentioned to no one any sort of nonsense about wanting to go to that crowded, awful place. She slid off the bed, giving Hena a side eye, but that was all the fight on this he’d get out of her. Who had gotten the idea she wanted to go, she didn’t know. But arguing it would only make her have to speak more and her brother was already too irritated, she felt, to put up with more of her stammering. Stutters that would only grow worse the more upset she became, which was likely to happen since he was never one to back down from a row.
“We will find a slave to bring, I’m not carrying anything for you.” Hena’s voice hit her back as she searched under the bed for her sandals. She’d not needed them for days and now she couldn’t find them. Oh. There was that book she’d been looking for. Nenet pulled it out and dusted off the cover, knowing she’d finished this one already, but wanting to read a certain part again anyway. It had been far, far too tragic not to read a fifth time.
Nenet ignored her brother as she sat on her knees, her legs neatly tucked beneath her, holding this newfound book to her chest and looking around. Sandals, sandals...sandals. The room was a mess. She didn’t let the servants come in and clean it because she didn’t want them telling her parents about anything they found. It was easy enough to keep it looking this way, since she was always in here to prevent the servant girls from moving anything. Candleholders sat beside her bed, on window ledges, on the little table at the side of the room, on her dressing table, in the book cases, on the floor by her bed, all with candlesticks more than half gone and bits and pieces of wax everywhere.
Her eyes lit on her small harp that she carried with her, lying on the table and, there, beneath the table, were her sandals. Ah. She remembered now. She’d had to go somewhere with her mother and she’d come home, slid out of her shoes, and left them there. Instead of by the door. Probably she should be more organized but, then, that would make instances like this one, where her brother was forcing her out, take less time in starting.
“S-ss-sorry,” she mumbled, tossing her book onto the rumpled bed and wandering over to pick up her shoes, one at a time, and slowly slide them onto her feet. Only then, when she could find no other reason to delay their journey except to stop and find a ribbon to tie her hair up, did she present herself to him without another word.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Nenet lay on her bed, beneath the gauzy curtains that extended from one end of the four poster to the other. She’d pulled the curtains down to keep away the flies that found their way into her room through the open windows. Her room was at the corner of the house and, to that end, had windows on three walls. The shutters of each window were thrown back, allowing light and creating a constant breezeway that made the curtains move back and forth as though they were breathing. Up here in the quiet, she was on her back, book held up above her face, bare legs crossed at the ankle and propped up on the left most post of her bed. Her dress was a wrinkled mess from being lain on so long and her hair was still fluffy and mussed from sleep. When she’d gone down to breakfast this morning, she hadn’t bothered to tie it back.
She was so absorbed in her book, that she did not hear her brother’s footsteps in the hall as he stalked toward her door. Nor did she pay any mind to the voices of people calling to one another out in the streets beneath her window. Her narrow focus was on tales of a daring girl, boarding a merchant’s vessel and being borne away toward a wonderful adventure. This was a book she technically shouldn’t have. Not only did it depict a woman acting immorally, but she’d already kissed this merchant and the book strongly alluded to the fact that the girl wasn’t sleeping alone. Honestly it reminded her of Neithhotep, but she forced herself to picture someone else in the heroine’s place instead. Herself, for example.
Three successive knocks jarred her straight out of her chapter. The book slipped and fell on her face and she barely sat up in time to jerk her legs underneath her so that her brother wouldn’t have to see her bare butt from where her dress had been dipping away from her propped up ankles so high on the post. She stared, wide eyed and annoyed at his sullen face as he spoke.
“Come. Father has asked me to escort you to market today, and I will not waste my entire day waiting for you.”
“I’m n-n-not g-going t-to the mmmmarket t-tod-day,” she mumbled, heat flaming in her cheeks. He’d startled her into speaking. But at his sullen agitation made her close the book anyway, despite being positive she’d mentioned to no one any sort of nonsense about wanting to go to that crowded, awful place. She slid off the bed, giving Hena a side eye, but that was all the fight on this he’d get out of her. Who had gotten the idea she wanted to go, she didn’t know. But arguing it would only make her have to speak more and her brother was already too irritated, she felt, to put up with more of her stammering. Stutters that would only grow worse the more upset she became, which was likely to happen since he was never one to back down from a row.
“We will find a slave to bring, I’m not carrying anything for you.” Hena’s voice hit her back as she searched under the bed for her sandals. She’d not needed them for days and now she couldn’t find them. Oh. There was that book she’d been looking for. Nenet pulled it out and dusted off the cover, knowing she’d finished this one already, but wanting to read a certain part again anyway. It had been far, far too tragic not to read a fifth time.
Nenet ignored her brother as she sat on her knees, her legs neatly tucked beneath her, holding this newfound book to her chest and looking around. Sandals, sandals...sandals. The room was a mess. She didn’t let the servants come in and clean it because she didn’t want them telling her parents about anything they found. It was easy enough to keep it looking this way, since she was always in here to prevent the servant girls from moving anything. Candleholders sat beside her bed, on window ledges, on the little table at the side of the room, on her dressing table, in the book cases, on the floor by her bed, all with candlesticks more than half gone and bits and pieces of wax everywhere.
Her eyes lit on her small harp that she carried with her, lying on the table and, there, beneath the table, were her sandals. Ah. She remembered now. She’d had to go somewhere with her mother and she’d come home, slid out of her shoes, and left them there. Instead of by the door. Probably she should be more organized but, then, that would make instances like this one, where her brother was forcing her out, take less time in starting.
“S-ss-sorry,” she mumbled, tossing her book onto the rumpled bed and wandering over to pick up her shoes, one at a time, and slowly slide them onto her feet. Only then, when she could find no other reason to delay their journey except to stop and find a ribbon to tie her hair up, did she present herself to him without another word.
Nenet lay on her bed, beneath the gauzy curtains that extended from one end of the four poster to the other. She’d pulled the curtains down to keep away the flies that found their way into her room through the open windows. Her room was at the corner of the house and, to that end, had windows on three walls. The shutters of each window were thrown back, allowing light and creating a constant breezeway that made the curtains move back and forth as though they were breathing. Up here in the quiet, she was on her back, book held up above her face, bare legs crossed at the ankle and propped up on the left most post of her bed. Her dress was a wrinkled mess from being lain on so long and her hair was still fluffy and mussed from sleep. When she’d gone down to breakfast this morning, she hadn’t bothered to tie it back.
She was so absorbed in her book, that she did not hear her brother’s footsteps in the hall as he stalked toward her door. Nor did she pay any mind to the voices of people calling to one another out in the streets beneath her window. Her narrow focus was on tales of a daring girl, boarding a merchant’s vessel and being borne away toward a wonderful adventure. This was a book she technically shouldn’t have. Not only did it depict a woman acting immorally, but she’d already kissed this merchant and the book strongly alluded to the fact that the girl wasn’t sleeping alone. Honestly it reminded her of Neithhotep, but she forced herself to picture someone else in the heroine’s place instead. Herself, for example.
Three successive knocks jarred her straight out of her chapter. The book slipped and fell on her face and she barely sat up in time to jerk her legs underneath her so that her brother wouldn’t have to see her bare butt from where her dress had been dipping away from her propped up ankles so high on the post. She stared, wide eyed and annoyed at his sullen face as he spoke.
“Come. Father has asked me to escort you to market today, and I will not waste my entire day waiting for you.”
“I’m n-n-not g-going t-to the mmmmarket t-tod-day,” she mumbled, heat flaming in her cheeks. He’d startled her into speaking. But at his sullen agitation made her close the book anyway, despite being positive she’d mentioned to no one any sort of nonsense about wanting to go to that crowded, awful place. She slid off the bed, giving Hena a side eye, but that was all the fight on this he’d get out of her. Who had gotten the idea she wanted to go, she didn’t know. But arguing it would only make her have to speak more and her brother was already too irritated, she felt, to put up with more of her stammering. Stutters that would only grow worse the more upset she became, which was likely to happen since he was never one to back down from a row.
“We will find a slave to bring, I’m not carrying anything for you.” Hena’s voice hit her back as she searched under the bed for her sandals. She’d not needed them for days and now she couldn’t find them. Oh. There was that book she’d been looking for. Nenet pulled it out and dusted off the cover, knowing she’d finished this one already, but wanting to read a certain part again anyway. It had been far, far too tragic not to read a fifth time.
Nenet ignored her brother as she sat on her knees, her legs neatly tucked beneath her, holding this newfound book to her chest and looking around. Sandals, sandals...sandals. The room was a mess. She didn’t let the servants come in and clean it because she didn’t want them telling her parents about anything they found. It was easy enough to keep it looking this way, since she was always in here to prevent the servant girls from moving anything. Candleholders sat beside her bed, on window ledges, on the little table at the side of the room, on her dressing table, in the book cases, on the floor by her bed, all with candlesticks more than half gone and bits and pieces of wax everywhere.
Her eyes lit on her small harp that she carried with her, lying on the table and, there, beneath the table, were her sandals. Ah. She remembered now. She’d had to go somewhere with her mother and she’d come home, slid out of her shoes, and left them there. Instead of by the door. Probably she should be more organized but, then, that would make instances like this one, where her brother was forcing her out, take less time in starting.
“S-ss-sorry,” she mumbled, tossing her book onto the rumpled bed and wandering over to pick up her shoes, one at a time, and slowly slide them onto her feet. Only then, when she could find no other reason to delay their journey except to stop and find a ribbon to tie her hair up, did she present herself to him without another word.
Akhenaten gritted his teeth as his sister said she wasn’t going to the market. He wasn’t about to stand there and argue with her. She was going because their father had commanded it, and he wasn’t about to be held responsible if it didn’t happen. He held in his hand a list of items that she was to procure for their father, he hadn’t read it himself to see what they were even going to get. He didn’t care what they were going to get, he was simply there to escort his sister so she wasn’t going into the market on her own or with just slaves.
He tried his best not to get too angry with her, but he had a short fuse and he was already unhappy with having to go with her in the first place.
“You are absolutely going.” He stated, hoping she would realize that she was not being given a choice in the matter. Finally she got up and began to get ready, and he calmed a little. The calm didn’t last long though as she messed around, finding some book under her bed, taking her sweet time to find what ever she was looking for and he saw red for a few moments. He wanted to step into her room, grab her by the hair and pull her out of the room by it. An audible growl could be heard from the heir as he did his best not to get violent with his sister.
“Nenet!” He nearly shouted, the irritation clear in his voice. Finally she found her shoes and began to slip them on, and he did his best to try and think rationally and calm himself. His hands had balled into fists without him noticing, the list of market items crumpled in his hand, and his nails had dug into his palms hard enough to leave marks.
“Come. Now.” He demanded, the look in his eyes showing that he was not going to wait around for her, and she was seconds from stepping over the line. Sibling bond be damned, his rage knew no bounds if he lost complete control of it.
He turned on his heel and started walking away from her room, down the hallway of the house. He passed a slave he recognized, and motioned for the man to follow him. He slowed a little as he began to calm, holding the now crumpled list out to his sister.
“Father wants you to get these for him. For some fucking reason I have to go with you. Lets just get this stuff and get this over with. Neither of us want the other’s company, so lets not pretend we do.” He said, which he was sure was true. They had never been close, they had hardly ever talked in fact. The two were so different, he didn’t think they had a single thing in common other than blood. The only reason he had anything to do with her was because it was hard to avoid his own sister.
For the most part, the siblings stayed out of each others way.
Akhenaten stepped out into the hot Egyptian sun, already wishing he could make a stop at a tavern or two on his way, but he wasn’t about to with his sister in tow.
“You and your stupid books. You waste your life, allow it to pass by you while you’re stuck in your fantasy worlds that will never be true.” He said, he was in a bad mood now, and he felt like taking it out on his sister.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Akhenaten gritted his teeth as his sister said she wasn’t going to the market. He wasn’t about to stand there and argue with her. She was going because their father had commanded it, and he wasn’t about to be held responsible if it didn’t happen. He held in his hand a list of items that she was to procure for their father, he hadn’t read it himself to see what they were even going to get. He didn’t care what they were going to get, he was simply there to escort his sister so she wasn’t going into the market on her own or with just slaves.
He tried his best not to get too angry with her, but he had a short fuse and he was already unhappy with having to go with her in the first place.
“You are absolutely going.” He stated, hoping she would realize that she was not being given a choice in the matter. Finally she got up and began to get ready, and he calmed a little. The calm didn’t last long though as she messed around, finding some book under her bed, taking her sweet time to find what ever she was looking for and he saw red for a few moments. He wanted to step into her room, grab her by the hair and pull her out of the room by it. An audible growl could be heard from the heir as he did his best not to get violent with his sister.
“Nenet!” He nearly shouted, the irritation clear in his voice. Finally she found her shoes and began to slip them on, and he did his best to try and think rationally and calm himself. His hands had balled into fists without him noticing, the list of market items crumpled in his hand, and his nails had dug into his palms hard enough to leave marks.
“Come. Now.” He demanded, the look in his eyes showing that he was not going to wait around for her, and she was seconds from stepping over the line. Sibling bond be damned, his rage knew no bounds if he lost complete control of it.
He turned on his heel and started walking away from her room, down the hallway of the house. He passed a slave he recognized, and motioned for the man to follow him. He slowed a little as he began to calm, holding the now crumpled list out to his sister.
“Father wants you to get these for him. For some fucking reason I have to go with you. Lets just get this stuff and get this over with. Neither of us want the other’s company, so lets not pretend we do.” He said, which he was sure was true. They had never been close, they had hardly ever talked in fact. The two were so different, he didn’t think they had a single thing in common other than blood. The only reason he had anything to do with her was because it was hard to avoid his own sister.
For the most part, the siblings stayed out of each others way.
Akhenaten stepped out into the hot Egyptian sun, already wishing he could make a stop at a tavern or two on his way, but he wasn’t about to with his sister in tow.
“You and your stupid books. You waste your life, allow it to pass by you while you’re stuck in your fantasy worlds that will never be true.” He said, he was in a bad mood now, and he felt like taking it out on his sister.
Akhenaten gritted his teeth as his sister said she wasn’t going to the market. He wasn’t about to stand there and argue with her. She was going because their father had commanded it, and he wasn’t about to be held responsible if it didn’t happen. He held in his hand a list of items that she was to procure for their father, he hadn’t read it himself to see what they were even going to get. He didn’t care what they were going to get, he was simply there to escort his sister so she wasn’t going into the market on her own or with just slaves.
He tried his best not to get too angry with her, but he had a short fuse and he was already unhappy with having to go with her in the first place.
“You are absolutely going.” He stated, hoping she would realize that she was not being given a choice in the matter. Finally she got up and began to get ready, and he calmed a little. The calm didn’t last long though as she messed around, finding some book under her bed, taking her sweet time to find what ever she was looking for and he saw red for a few moments. He wanted to step into her room, grab her by the hair and pull her out of the room by it. An audible growl could be heard from the heir as he did his best not to get violent with his sister.
“Nenet!” He nearly shouted, the irritation clear in his voice. Finally she found her shoes and began to slip them on, and he did his best to try and think rationally and calm himself. His hands had balled into fists without him noticing, the list of market items crumpled in his hand, and his nails had dug into his palms hard enough to leave marks.
“Come. Now.” He demanded, the look in his eyes showing that he was not going to wait around for her, and she was seconds from stepping over the line. Sibling bond be damned, his rage knew no bounds if he lost complete control of it.
He turned on his heel and started walking away from her room, down the hallway of the house. He passed a slave he recognized, and motioned for the man to follow him. He slowed a little as he began to calm, holding the now crumpled list out to his sister.
“Father wants you to get these for him. For some fucking reason I have to go with you. Lets just get this stuff and get this over with. Neither of us want the other’s company, so lets not pretend we do.” He said, which he was sure was true. They had never been close, they had hardly ever talked in fact. The two were so different, he didn’t think they had a single thing in common other than blood. The only reason he had anything to do with her was because it was hard to avoid his own sister.
For the most part, the siblings stayed out of each others way.
Akhenaten stepped out into the hot Egyptian sun, already wishing he could make a stop at a tavern or two on his way, but he wasn’t about to with his sister in tow.
“You and your stupid books. You waste your life, allow it to pass by you while you’re stuck in your fantasy worlds that will never be true.” He said, he was in a bad mood now, and he felt like taking it out on his sister.
“Nenet!” The sudden rage in his voice made her cower like a cub in long grass, except that, already on her knees, she used the sitting stool of her vanity to shield her for the moment from her brother. His irritation made her slide her sandals on quickly enough and she’d nabbed the ribbon off the top of her vanity before his next command echoed in the room. “Come. Now.”
Her fingers trembled as she tied up her hair, and she knocked her hip against one of her tables, sending her momentarily sidestepping the other way, where she knocked into a bookcase. The huge wooden piece of furniture remained immobile, but the jarring effect of the bump made loose papers spill out and flutter to the floor around her, exposing drawings she’d done for all the world to see. They were all of them very good and not at all interesting. She’d captured the likeness of people on the street, or stacks of books, vases, fruit, her own reflection. Random things in the house.
Thankfully, Akhenaten didn’t appear to care about anything at all except his own agitation. Nenet didn’t bother to pick up the papers, though she did stare at them for a few seconds. But as her brother turned, she didn’t want to test him further by taking the time to scoop them all up and hastily dump them on her bed. More likely that she’d get them in her arms and find them jerked back out and ripped to pieces. It was best to leave them on the floor.
She shut the door to her room with a soft, unobtrusive click, and crossed her thin arms tightly over her small chest. Behind her brother, who was handsome and confident and a large presence, she was tiny, mousey, and a little pathetic. Something that she rather hoped would make no one speak to her today. They passed a servant who fell into line behind her, prompting a furtive glance over her shoulder at him before she heard Hena speaking, looked back, and found crumpled paper being shoved into her face. Jerking her head back to avoid it, she snatched the paper from him with one hand and smoothed it out with her thumb.
“Father wants you to get these for him. For some fucking reason I have to go with you. Let's just get this stuff and get this over with. Neither of us want the other’s company, so lets not pretend we do.”
His words might have stung if she cared at all about his good opinion. Instead, she merely nodding, wholly agreeing. The thought of having to spend the entire afternoon in his presence made her already exhausted. She wondered, as they passed another couple of doorways and headed towards stairs, if she could pretend to roll her ankle...or, she could truly fall down the stairs and roll it...that would get her out of going to the market…
Her mind conjured the image of her standing at the top of the stairs, taking one intentional misstep, and then her thin body tumbling all the way down to the bottom. Only, she could well imagine the bumps and bruises, possible head trauma, and then perhaps the sting of a face slap from Hena for being such an idiot. No. She was too much of a coward to fling herself down the stairs and when they came to them, meekly took each step carefully, now a little concerned that she might fall on accident. Her hand brushed the cool stone wall, giving her a bit of balance, until the very last step, where she stumbled, nearly fell to her knees, and was only prevented from doing so because the servant behind her had the presence of mind to grasp her arm to keep her upright.
She made a sound in the back of her throat at the servant that the man probably took as thanks. Or, at least she hoped he did, but after that, she kept her form tucked into a tight, upright, walking hug to herself. The first step out into the blinding sun made her blink rapidly, attempting to clear her vision, but giving up nearly immediately and dropping her gaze to the ground.
“You and your stupid books. You waste your life, allow it to pass by you while you’re stuck in your fantasy worlds that will never be true.” Hena mused allowed. Nenet glared. Her mouth twisted and she nearly aimed a kick at his ankle, but looked at the size of him first. Two years older, she’d been able to best him for a little while, but he’d had the nerve to grow up and become a man, while she remained tiny. Not in height, perhaps, but in build. Her body was only a little better than a young girl’s. Her hips were a little wider than they had been in youth, and she had what some people might call breasts, but when she looked at herself in the mirror, it was always with disappointment.
As much as she’d have liked to tell him he was the stupid one, she didn’t. All she did was mutter, “L-let’s g-go.” And strode on out into the street without him. His anger was giving her the courage to walk first, though she regretted it instantly. Looking from side to side, she bit her lower lip, not remembering which way it was to the souk. She turned and looked to Hena, hating that she needed the help, and not too prideful to do it.
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“Nenet!” The sudden rage in his voice made her cower like a cub in long grass, except that, already on her knees, she used the sitting stool of her vanity to shield her for the moment from her brother. His irritation made her slide her sandals on quickly enough and she’d nabbed the ribbon off the top of her vanity before his next command echoed in the room. “Come. Now.”
Her fingers trembled as she tied up her hair, and she knocked her hip against one of her tables, sending her momentarily sidestepping the other way, where she knocked into a bookcase. The huge wooden piece of furniture remained immobile, but the jarring effect of the bump made loose papers spill out and flutter to the floor around her, exposing drawings she’d done for all the world to see. They were all of them very good and not at all interesting. She’d captured the likeness of people on the street, or stacks of books, vases, fruit, her own reflection. Random things in the house.
Thankfully, Akhenaten didn’t appear to care about anything at all except his own agitation. Nenet didn’t bother to pick up the papers, though she did stare at them for a few seconds. But as her brother turned, she didn’t want to test him further by taking the time to scoop them all up and hastily dump them on her bed. More likely that she’d get them in her arms and find them jerked back out and ripped to pieces. It was best to leave them on the floor.
She shut the door to her room with a soft, unobtrusive click, and crossed her thin arms tightly over her small chest. Behind her brother, who was handsome and confident and a large presence, she was tiny, mousey, and a little pathetic. Something that she rather hoped would make no one speak to her today. They passed a servant who fell into line behind her, prompting a furtive glance over her shoulder at him before she heard Hena speaking, looked back, and found crumpled paper being shoved into her face. Jerking her head back to avoid it, she snatched the paper from him with one hand and smoothed it out with her thumb.
“Father wants you to get these for him. For some fucking reason I have to go with you. Let's just get this stuff and get this over with. Neither of us want the other’s company, so lets not pretend we do.”
His words might have stung if she cared at all about his good opinion. Instead, she merely nodding, wholly agreeing. The thought of having to spend the entire afternoon in his presence made her already exhausted. She wondered, as they passed another couple of doorways and headed towards stairs, if she could pretend to roll her ankle...or, she could truly fall down the stairs and roll it...that would get her out of going to the market…
Her mind conjured the image of her standing at the top of the stairs, taking one intentional misstep, and then her thin body tumbling all the way down to the bottom. Only, she could well imagine the bumps and bruises, possible head trauma, and then perhaps the sting of a face slap from Hena for being such an idiot. No. She was too much of a coward to fling herself down the stairs and when they came to them, meekly took each step carefully, now a little concerned that she might fall on accident. Her hand brushed the cool stone wall, giving her a bit of balance, until the very last step, where she stumbled, nearly fell to her knees, and was only prevented from doing so because the servant behind her had the presence of mind to grasp her arm to keep her upright.
She made a sound in the back of her throat at the servant that the man probably took as thanks. Or, at least she hoped he did, but after that, she kept her form tucked into a tight, upright, walking hug to herself. The first step out into the blinding sun made her blink rapidly, attempting to clear her vision, but giving up nearly immediately and dropping her gaze to the ground.
“You and your stupid books. You waste your life, allow it to pass by you while you’re stuck in your fantasy worlds that will never be true.” Hena mused allowed. Nenet glared. Her mouth twisted and she nearly aimed a kick at his ankle, but looked at the size of him first. Two years older, she’d been able to best him for a little while, but he’d had the nerve to grow up and become a man, while she remained tiny. Not in height, perhaps, but in build. Her body was only a little better than a young girl’s. Her hips were a little wider than they had been in youth, and she had what some people might call breasts, but when she looked at herself in the mirror, it was always with disappointment.
As much as she’d have liked to tell him he was the stupid one, she didn’t. All she did was mutter, “L-let’s g-go.” And strode on out into the street without him. His anger was giving her the courage to walk first, though she regretted it instantly. Looking from side to side, she bit her lower lip, not remembering which way it was to the souk. She turned and looked to Hena, hating that she needed the help, and not too prideful to do it.
“Nenet!” The sudden rage in his voice made her cower like a cub in long grass, except that, already on her knees, she used the sitting stool of her vanity to shield her for the moment from her brother. His irritation made her slide her sandals on quickly enough and she’d nabbed the ribbon off the top of her vanity before his next command echoed in the room. “Come. Now.”
Her fingers trembled as she tied up her hair, and she knocked her hip against one of her tables, sending her momentarily sidestepping the other way, where she knocked into a bookcase. The huge wooden piece of furniture remained immobile, but the jarring effect of the bump made loose papers spill out and flutter to the floor around her, exposing drawings she’d done for all the world to see. They were all of them very good and not at all interesting. She’d captured the likeness of people on the street, or stacks of books, vases, fruit, her own reflection. Random things in the house.
Thankfully, Akhenaten didn’t appear to care about anything at all except his own agitation. Nenet didn’t bother to pick up the papers, though she did stare at them for a few seconds. But as her brother turned, she didn’t want to test him further by taking the time to scoop them all up and hastily dump them on her bed. More likely that she’d get them in her arms and find them jerked back out and ripped to pieces. It was best to leave them on the floor.
She shut the door to her room with a soft, unobtrusive click, and crossed her thin arms tightly over her small chest. Behind her brother, who was handsome and confident and a large presence, she was tiny, mousey, and a little pathetic. Something that she rather hoped would make no one speak to her today. They passed a servant who fell into line behind her, prompting a furtive glance over her shoulder at him before she heard Hena speaking, looked back, and found crumpled paper being shoved into her face. Jerking her head back to avoid it, she snatched the paper from him with one hand and smoothed it out with her thumb.
“Father wants you to get these for him. For some fucking reason I have to go with you. Let's just get this stuff and get this over with. Neither of us want the other’s company, so lets not pretend we do.”
His words might have stung if she cared at all about his good opinion. Instead, she merely nodding, wholly agreeing. The thought of having to spend the entire afternoon in his presence made her already exhausted. She wondered, as they passed another couple of doorways and headed towards stairs, if she could pretend to roll her ankle...or, she could truly fall down the stairs and roll it...that would get her out of going to the market…
Her mind conjured the image of her standing at the top of the stairs, taking one intentional misstep, and then her thin body tumbling all the way down to the bottom. Only, she could well imagine the bumps and bruises, possible head trauma, and then perhaps the sting of a face slap from Hena for being such an idiot. No. She was too much of a coward to fling herself down the stairs and when they came to them, meekly took each step carefully, now a little concerned that she might fall on accident. Her hand brushed the cool stone wall, giving her a bit of balance, until the very last step, where she stumbled, nearly fell to her knees, and was only prevented from doing so because the servant behind her had the presence of mind to grasp her arm to keep her upright.
She made a sound in the back of her throat at the servant that the man probably took as thanks. Or, at least she hoped he did, but after that, she kept her form tucked into a tight, upright, walking hug to herself. The first step out into the blinding sun made her blink rapidly, attempting to clear her vision, but giving up nearly immediately and dropping her gaze to the ground.
“You and your stupid books. You waste your life, allow it to pass by you while you’re stuck in your fantasy worlds that will never be true.” Hena mused allowed. Nenet glared. Her mouth twisted and she nearly aimed a kick at his ankle, but looked at the size of him first. Two years older, she’d been able to best him for a little while, but he’d had the nerve to grow up and become a man, while she remained tiny. Not in height, perhaps, but in build. Her body was only a little better than a young girl’s. Her hips were a little wider than they had been in youth, and she had what some people might call breasts, but when she looked at herself in the mirror, it was always with disappointment.
As much as she’d have liked to tell him he was the stupid one, she didn’t. All she did was mutter, “L-let’s g-go.” And strode on out into the street without him. His anger was giving her the courage to walk first, though she regretted it instantly. Looking from side to side, she bit her lower lip, not remembering which way it was to the souk. She turned and looked to Hena, hating that she needed the help, and not too prideful to do it.
Hena scoffed as his sister nearly fell on the stairs. He found her pathetic, weak and weak-willed, she didn’t fit into the family at all. All of them were confident, commanding and stubborn. She was like some mouse who had wandered into a den of cats and some how made it this far without being eaten. He made no comment on her clumsiness, as much as he wanted to mock her more. It was almost too easy at this point, mocking her had lost some of its entertainment value over the years.
If Hena had to guess that any of them had not truly been a full-fledged H’Sheifa, he would have guessed it was Nenet. At least Sutekh had fit in with the rest of them, even if they didn’t get along.
He smirked a little as she tried to ignore his words, but the way that she hurried her pace when they arrived outside made him think that his words had gotten to her more than she would admit. He followed her, not caring to pick up his pace to match hers, his stride casual as he enjoyed the warmth of the sun, their slave following behind Akhenaten, more afraid of the Lord’s wrath than he was of his sister.
He raised an eyebrow as she stopped suddenly and looked at him in confusion.
“Have you forgotten your way, sister?” He teased. He wasn’t surprised, she never went outside, preferring to sit alone and read her books instead of experiencing life and the real world.
“This way.” He said, once he had caught up to her, he grabbed her arm and pulled her in the direction of the market where they would find what their father wanted from them. He let go of her arm and walked at her side so she wouldn’t get lost and end up some where without him. His father had been adamant that he needed to escort Nenet and keep her safe, as if he could do anything if someone were to attack. He was no fighter.
He fell silent as they walked, not knowing what to say to his sister. He didn’t really hate her, as cruel as he could be to her sometimes, they just didn’t get along. The two were polar opposites, the only reason they ever interacted was because they were forced to as family. Other than that, they tended to stay out of each other’s way. She preferred to get lost in her books, and he preferred to get lost in wine and opium.
He paused for a moment, spotting one of his favourite taverns. He decided that the call of the wine was worth potentially spending more time in his sister’s presence.
“Come.” He demanded, grabbing her arm again and dragging her inside. The tavern wasn’t overly full because it was early, though people milled about here and there. He led his sister to a table and sat, waving a serving girl over, he ordered a pitcher of wine and two cups. He actually wasn’t sure if his sister even drank wine, but he would try to get her to. At least provide him a bit of entertainment.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Hena scoffed as his sister nearly fell on the stairs. He found her pathetic, weak and weak-willed, she didn’t fit into the family at all. All of them were confident, commanding and stubborn. She was like some mouse who had wandered into a den of cats and some how made it this far without being eaten. He made no comment on her clumsiness, as much as he wanted to mock her more. It was almost too easy at this point, mocking her had lost some of its entertainment value over the years.
If Hena had to guess that any of them had not truly been a full-fledged H’Sheifa, he would have guessed it was Nenet. At least Sutekh had fit in with the rest of them, even if they didn’t get along.
He smirked a little as she tried to ignore his words, but the way that she hurried her pace when they arrived outside made him think that his words had gotten to her more than she would admit. He followed her, not caring to pick up his pace to match hers, his stride casual as he enjoyed the warmth of the sun, their slave following behind Akhenaten, more afraid of the Lord’s wrath than he was of his sister.
He raised an eyebrow as she stopped suddenly and looked at him in confusion.
“Have you forgotten your way, sister?” He teased. He wasn’t surprised, she never went outside, preferring to sit alone and read her books instead of experiencing life and the real world.
“This way.” He said, once he had caught up to her, he grabbed her arm and pulled her in the direction of the market where they would find what their father wanted from them. He let go of her arm and walked at her side so she wouldn’t get lost and end up some where without him. His father had been adamant that he needed to escort Nenet and keep her safe, as if he could do anything if someone were to attack. He was no fighter.
He fell silent as they walked, not knowing what to say to his sister. He didn’t really hate her, as cruel as he could be to her sometimes, they just didn’t get along. The two were polar opposites, the only reason they ever interacted was because they were forced to as family. Other than that, they tended to stay out of each other’s way. She preferred to get lost in her books, and he preferred to get lost in wine and opium.
He paused for a moment, spotting one of his favourite taverns. He decided that the call of the wine was worth potentially spending more time in his sister’s presence.
“Come.” He demanded, grabbing her arm again and dragging her inside. The tavern wasn’t overly full because it was early, though people milled about here and there. He led his sister to a table and sat, waving a serving girl over, he ordered a pitcher of wine and two cups. He actually wasn’t sure if his sister even drank wine, but he would try to get her to. At least provide him a bit of entertainment.
Hena scoffed as his sister nearly fell on the stairs. He found her pathetic, weak and weak-willed, she didn’t fit into the family at all. All of them were confident, commanding and stubborn. She was like some mouse who had wandered into a den of cats and some how made it this far without being eaten. He made no comment on her clumsiness, as much as he wanted to mock her more. It was almost too easy at this point, mocking her had lost some of its entertainment value over the years.
If Hena had to guess that any of them had not truly been a full-fledged H’Sheifa, he would have guessed it was Nenet. At least Sutekh had fit in with the rest of them, even if they didn’t get along.
He smirked a little as she tried to ignore his words, but the way that she hurried her pace when they arrived outside made him think that his words had gotten to her more than she would admit. He followed her, not caring to pick up his pace to match hers, his stride casual as he enjoyed the warmth of the sun, their slave following behind Akhenaten, more afraid of the Lord’s wrath than he was of his sister.
He raised an eyebrow as she stopped suddenly and looked at him in confusion.
“Have you forgotten your way, sister?” He teased. He wasn’t surprised, she never went outside, preferring to sit alone and read her books instead of experiencing life and the real world.
“This way.” He said, once he had caught up to her, he grabbed her arm and pulled her in the direction of the market where they would find what their father wanted from them. He let go of her arm and walked at her side so she wouldn’t get lost and end up some where without him. His father had been adamant that he needed to escort Nenet and keep her safe, as if he could do anything if someone were to attack. He was no fighter.
He fell silent as they walked, not knowing what to say to his sister. He didn’t really hate her, as cruel as he could be to her sometimes, they just didn’t get along. The two were polar opposites, the only reason they ever interacted was because they were forced to as family. Other than that, they tended to stay out of each other’s way. She preferred to get lost in her books, and he preferred to get lost in wine and opium.
He paused for a moment, spotting one of his favourite taverns. He decided that the call of the wine was worth potentially spending more time in his sister’s presence.
“Come.” He demanded, grabbing her arm again and dragging her inside. The tavern wasn’t overly full because it was early, though people milled about here and there. He led his sister to a table and sat, waving a serving girl over, he ordered a pitcher of wine and two cups. He actually wasn’t sure if his sister even drank wine, but he would try to get her to. At least provide him a bit of entertainment.
She didn’t need to read her brother’s asinine thoughts. They were etched into every feature, displayed through his narrowed, dark eyes, plastered across his curling sneer. If she’d ever valued his opinion, she no longer did and hadn’t in years. His disgust didn’t bother her in the way it might have if she’d cared much about him, but it still didn’t feel nice to walk alongside someone who so clearly despised her very being. There were things she admired about her brother, but they were the sorts of things she’d have admired in a stranger. He was handsome, he was confident, he was well dressed, and he was mostly intelligent. He was also someone she wouldn’t have wished on her worst enemy. Why Neithotep liked him so much was beyond her.
When she’d stopped, Hena’s snide teasing made her clench her jaw. If she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth hard enough, she could avoid speaking. She was sure of it. With a stiff nod, she admitted that, yes, she had forgotten the way. "This way,” he said and before she realized quiet what was happening, she felt his fingers curl around her upper arm, pulling her in the opposite direction. Nenet jerked against his hold but there was no way she could free herself unless Hena decided she could. Her feet tangled over themselves, again and she gripped his arm for support as they walked along. It was right about that moment that he chose to let go and she found herself being the one to keep the connection until she could right herself. By then, her cheeks flamed red and she avoided looking at him.
Nenet was trying to figure out if it was wrong to hate your brother. She’d have to ask one of her parents. If it was wrong, she wasn’t totally sure she’d work on not hating him. It was just good to know where she stood, in the grand scheme of eternity. Hate might be strong. She didn’t wish him dead. Maybe he could end up with a papercut? That’d be alright.
For a long while, they walked side by side, Nenet managing not to trip or do anything particularly stupid the whole time. Just as she was growing a bit more comfortable in his presence and had started to forget their irritation with one another, she heard him say ”Come,”, felt her arm grabbed again, and made a “Huh?” sound as she was soundly tugged in the direction of a tavern.
“Hen-n-na!” she pulled at his fingers around her arm, brows furrowed, eyes wide. “I d-don’t w-wannt t-to!” She protested and might have pointed out that they were supposed to be going to the market, but they were already through the darkened doorway of the tavern. It was at that point that Nenet stopped working at his hold on her and grasped his clothing instead, pressing as close to him as she dared. Akhenaten might have been worthless in a fight, but Nenet didn’t feel that way about him. To her, he was the shield between these people and herself. Therefore, she chose to believe he was strong and courageous. A person she needed to stay right next to.
They moved through the tavern, weaving around this table and that until they came upon one that Akhenaten deemed appropriate. She was loathe to part with her hold on him but it became necessary when he sat. She remained standing for a fraction of a second longer than he did, her small hands curled into fists at her sides, before she took the seat right next to him. A serving girl came and brought a pitcher. Two cups sat before them and Nenet scooted her chair closer to Hena. She glanced sideways at him, wondering what on earth he was here for in the first place.
She leaned back in her chair, keeping her fists in her lap, looking around for the purpose of this visit. “W-who a-are y-y-you ssseeing?” she whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible while also wanting to know what he meant by this. Why hadn’t she thought to bring her book? It would have been so much easier to pass notes back and forth with him...if he’d have indulged her, that is. For all she knew, he’d have torn the papyrus and scattered it across the street.
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She didn’t need to read her brother’s asinine thoughts. They were etched into every feature, displayed through his narrowed, dark eyes, plastered across his curling sneer. If she’d ever valued his opinion, she no longer did and hadn’t in years. His disgust didn’t bother her in the way it might have if she’d cared much about him, but it still didn’t feel nice to walk alongside someone who so clearly despised her very being. There were things she admired about her brother, but they were the sorts of things she’d have admired in a stranger. He was handsome, he was confident, he was well dressed, and he was mostly intelligent. He was also someone she wouldn’t have wished on her worst enemy. Why Neithotep liked him so much was beyond her.
When she’d stopped, Hena’s snide teasing made her clench her jaw. If she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth hard enough, she could avoid speaking. She was sure of it. With a stiff nod, she admitted that, yes, she had forgotten the way. "This way,” he said and before she realized quiet what was happening, she felt his fingers curl around her upper arm, pulling her in the opposite direction. Nenet jerked against his hold but there was no way she could free herself unless Hena decided she could. Her feet tangled over themselves, again and she gripped his arm for support as they walked along. It was right about that moment that he chose to let go and she found herself being the one to keep the connection until she could right herself. By then, her cheeks flamed red and she avoided looking at him.
Nenet was trying to figure out if it was wrong to hate your brother. She’d have to ask one of her parents. If it was wrong, she wasn’t totally sure she’d work on not hating him. It was just good to know where she stood, in the grand scheme of eternity. Hate might be strong. She didn’t wish him dead. Maybe he could end up with a papercut? That’d be alright.
For a long while, they walked side by side, Nenet managing not to trip or do anything particularly stupid the whole time. Just as she was growing a bit more comfortable in his presence and had started to forget their irritation with one another, she heard him say ”Come,”, felt her arm grabbed again, and made a “Huh?” sound as she was soundly tugged in the direction of a tavern.
“Hen-n-na!” she pulled at his fingers around her arm, brows furrowed, eyes wide. “I d-don’t w-wannt t-to!” She protested and might have pointed out that they were supposed to be going to the market, but they were already through the darkened doorway of the tavern. It was at that point that Nenet stopped working at his hold on her and grasped his clothing instead, pressing as close to him as she dared. Akhenaten might have been worthless in a fight, but Nenet didn’t feel that way about him. To her, he was the shield between these people and herself. Therefore, she chose to believe he was strong and courageous. A person she needed to stay right next to.
They moved through the tavern, weaving around this table and that until they came upon one that Akhenaten deemed appropriate. She was loathe to part with her hold on him but it became necessary when he sat. She remained standing for a fraction of a second longer than he did, her small hands curled into fists at her sides, before she took the seat right next to him. A serving girl came and brought a pitcher. Two cups sat before them and Nenet scooted her chair closer to Hena. She glanced sideways at him, wondering what on earth he was here for in the first place.
She leaned back in her chair, keeping her fists in her lap, looking around for the purpose of this visit. “W-who a-are y-y-you ssseeing?” she whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible while also wanting to know what he meant by this. Why hadn’t she thought to bring her book? It would have been so much easier to pass notes back and forth with him...if he’d have indulged her, that is. For all she knew, he’d have torn the papyrus and scattered it across the street.
She didn’t need to read her brother’s asinine thoughts. They were etched into every feature, displayed through his narrowed, dark eyes, plastered across his curling sneer. If she’d ever valued his opinion, she no longer did and hadn’t in years. His disgust didn’t bother her in the way it might have if she’d cared much about him, but it still didn’t feel nice to walk alongside someone who so clearly despised her very being. There were things she admired about her brother, but they were the sorts of things she’d have admired in a stranger. He was handsome, he was confident, he was well dressed, and he was mostly intelligent. He was also someone she wouldn’t have wished on her worst enemy. Why Neithotep liked him so much was beyond her.
When she’d stopped, Hena’s snide teasing made her clench her jaw. If she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth hard enough, she could avoid speaking. She was sure of it. With a stiff nod, she admitted that, yes, she had forgotten the way. "This way,” he said and before she realized quiet what was happening, she felt his fingers curl around her upper arm, pulling her in the opposite direction. Nenet jerked against his hold but there was no way she could free herself unless Hena decided she could. Her feet tangled over themselves, again and she gripped his arm for support as they walked along. It was right about that moment that he chose to let go and she found herself being the one to keep the connection until she could right herself. By then, her cheeks flamed red and she avoided looking at him.
Nenet was trying to figure out if it was wrong to hate your brother. She’d have to ask one of her parents. If it was wrong, she wasn’t totally sure she’d work on not hating him. It was just good to know where she stood, in the grand scheme of eternity. Hate might be strong. She didn’t wish him dead. Maybe he could end up with a papercut? That’d be alright.
For a long while, they walked side by side, Nenet managing not to trip or do anything particularly stupid the whole time. Just as she was growing a bit more comfortable in his presence and had started to forget their irritation with one another, she heard him say ”Come,”, felt her arm grabbed again, and made a “Huh?” sound as she was soundly tugged in the direction of a tavern.
“Hen-n-na!” she pulled at his fingers around her arm, brows furrowed, eyes wide. “I d-don’t w-wannt t-to!” She protested and might have pointed out that they were supposed to be going to the market, but they were already through the darkened doorway of the tavern. It was at that point that Nenet stopped working at his hold on her and grasped his clothing instead, pressing as close to him as she dared. Akhenaten might have been worthless in a fight, but Nenet didn’t feel that way about him. To her, he was the shield between these people and herself. Therefore, she chose to believe he was strong and courageous. A person she needed to stay right next to.
They moved through the tavern, weaving around this table and that until they came upon one that Akhenaten deemed appropriate. She was loathe to part with her hold on him but it became necessary when he sat. She remained standing for a fraction of a second longer than he did, her small hands curled into fists at her sides, before she took the seat right next to him. A serving girl came and brought a pitcher. Two cups sat before them and Nenet scooted her chair closer to Hena. She glanced sideways at him, wondering what on earth he was here for in the first place.
She leaned back in her chair, keeping her fists in her lap, looking around for the purpose of this visit. “W-who a-are y-y-you ssseeing?” she whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible while also wanting to know what he meant by this. Why hadn’t she thought to bring her book? It would have been so much easier to pass notes back and forth with him...if he’d have indulged her, that is. For all she knew, he’d have torn the papyrus and scattered it across the street.
Akhenaten couldn’t understand how one person could be so clumsy and awkward, especially a person who came from a rich, noble family. How in the world had she become so opposite of her siblings, and become so... not confident when the world had handed her everything good upon birth. He would never comprehend what went through his sisters mind, or how she could be so incompetent and life in general.
Hena ignored his sisters protests as he pulled her into the tavern, noting the way she pressed herself right up against him as if she thought everyone in the room was out to get her. When she sat and moved as close as possible to him, he raised an eyebrow. He could see the discomfort clear as day on her features, and while he felt the slightest bit sorry for frightening her in this way, the call of the drink was enough to make him not care and remain planted firmly in his seat.
He snickered when she asked who he was meeting, and he held up a cup of the red wine.
“This beautiful redhead right here.” He stated, downing at least half the cup in one drink before he motioned towards the other cup of wine.
“Surely you can bare to share one cup of wine with your brother.” He insisted, draining his own cup before pouring another.
“You need to learn the truths of the world, Nenet. You can’t remain locked in your room with your books forever. What happens when you’re married off? Do you think your future husband will be happy to have his wife locked away in a room reading rather than tending to her duties?” He asked, harsh but true words. One day his parents would marry Nenet off to some poor soul, and she would be expected to be a wife. How was she to do so when she couldn’t even face strangers in a tavern without nearly wetting herself?
“What terrifies you so much about this place? Not a single person in here wishes harm upon us. So tell me what it is that has you so scared that you would remain close to a brother you despise?” He asked, genuinely curious what it was about being here that scared her so much. He didn’t see any threats, and he doubted that if someone were to come after them, they would do so in front of so many other people. If anything, they were in more danger on the quiet streets than they were in a tavern full of other people. Besides, they had their slave with them, the man standing silently near the table in case he was needed for anything.
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Akhenaten couldn’t understand how one person could be so clumsy and awkward, especially a person who came from a rich, noble family. How in the world had she become so opposite of her siblings, and become so... not confident when the world had handed her everything good upon birth. He would never comprehend what went through his sisters mind, or how she could be so incompetent and life in general.
Hena ignored his sisters protests as he pulled her into the tavern, noting the way she pressed herself right up against him as if she thought everyone in the room was out to get her. When she sat and moved as close as possible to him, he raised an eyebrow. He could see the discomfort clear as day on her features, and while he felt the slightest bit sorry for frightening her in this way, the call of the drink was enough to make him not care and remain planted firmly in his seat.
He snickered when she asked who he was meeting, and he held up a cup of the red wine.
“This beautiful redhead right here.” He stated, downing at least half the cup in one drink before he motioned towards the other cup of wine.
“Surely you can bare to share one cup of wine with your brother.” He insisted, draining his own cup before pouring another.
“You need to learn the truths of the world, Nenet. You can’t remain locked in your room with your books forever. What happens when you’re married off? Do you think your future husband will be happy to have his wife locked away in a room reading rather than tending to her duties?” He asked, harsh but true words. One day his parents would marry Nenet off to some poor soul, and she would be expected to be a wife. How was she to do so when she couldn’t even face strangers in a tavern without nearly wetting herself?
“What terrifies you so much about this place? Not a single person in here wishes harm upon us. So tell me what it is that has you so scared that you would remain close to a brother you despise?” He asked, genuinely curious what it was about being here that scared her so much. He didn’t see any threats, and he doubted that if someone were to come after them, they would do so in front of so many other people. If anything, they were in more danger on the quiet streets than they were in a tavern full of other people. Besides, they had their slave with them, the man standing silently near the table in case he was needed for anything.
Akhenaten couldn’t understand how one person could be so clumsy and awkward, especially a person who came from a rich, noble family. How in the world had she become so opposite of her siblings, and become so... not confident when the world had handed her everything good upon birth. He would never comprehend what went through his sisters mind, or how she could be so incompetent and life in general.
Hena ignored his sisters protests as he pulled her into the tavern, noting the way she pressed herself right up against him as if she thought everyone in the room was out to get her. When she sat and moved as close as possible to him, he raised an eyebrow. He could see the discomfort clear as day on her features, and while he felt the slightest bit sorry for frightening her in this way, the call of the drink was enough to make him not care and remain planted firmly in his seat.
He snickered when she asked who he was meeting, and he held up a cup of the red wine.
“This beautiful redhead right here.” He stated, downing at least half the cup in one drink before he motioned towards the other cup of wine.
“Surely you can bare to share one cup of wine with your brother.” He insisted, draining his own cup before pouring another.
“You need to learn the truths of the world, Nenet. You can’t remain locked in your room with your books forever. What happens when you’re married off? Do you think your future husband will be happy to have his wife locked away in a room reading rather than tending to her duties?” He asked, harsh but true words. One day his parents would marry Nenet off to some poor soul, and she would be expected to be a wife. How was she to do so when she couldn’t even face strangers in a tavern without nearly wetting herself?
“What terrifies you so much about this place? Not a single person in here wishes harm upon us. So tell me what it is that has you so scared that you would remain close to a brother you despise?” He asked, genuinely curious what it was about being here that scared her so much. He didn’t see any threats, and he doubted that if someone were to come after them, they would do so in front of so many other people. If anything, they were in more danger on the quiet streets than they were in a tavern full of other people. Besides, they had their slave with them, the man standing silently near the table in case he was needed for anything.
Redhead? Nenet frowned and looked around the room for any person with red hair. Did Hena associate closely with Greeks? But they were so...unfortunate. Her eyes roved, jumping from person to person, finding only dark hair highlighted white from the sun streaming in through the open windows and doorway. On the far end of the room, the tops of their heads shone in yellow from the bowls of fire burning to chase away the shadows. But not on a single person did she see red hair. Nor did she see horrible pasty skin. All she could see were a few men too deep in their cups, hear bawdy laughter, and watched maids skitter here and there, bringing whatever was ordered.
Looking back at her brother, she watched him drink appreciatively from his cup and her mouth tightened as her gaze flattened. Oh. That redhead. As though wine was a person. Ha. Ha. How witty he was. Nenet rolled her eyes and rested her chin in her palm, elbow propped on the table as she watched him. What a dolt. He was still guzzling the wine and her lip curled as she watched the apple of his throat bob up and down with each lusty swallow. Gross.
"Surely you can bare to share one cup of wine with your brother,” he finally took his lips away from the cup enough to speak and Nenet fancied she could hear a bit of breathlessness to his voice. No wonder. It was hard to breathe and drink at the same time. And women found this attractive? ...why…? Droplets glistened in the sparse hairs of his mustache. A mustache he really should let go of, in her opinion. A cup was pushed towards her and she took the stem, not because she wanted to do this, but because she was half afraid that he’d pull her by the hair and shove wine down her throat if she didn’t do it for the asking.
As she lifted the cup to her nose, inhaling the subpar scent, she glanced at him and listened with growing resentment as he pointed out that she couldn’t very well live her life the way she wanted to - locked up with her books and her art. What happened when she married? Pft. Marriage. Nenet rolled her eyes when Akhenaten went on to point out that her future husband (who would never materialize if she had her way) would not appreciate her disappearing somewhere to be alone.
“I w-w-won-n’t m-marr-r-ry-y,” she said as stoutly as she knew how and drank the wine to spite him. Although, half way through the glass as she’d seen him doing, she wondered if this was spite or just obedience. Sometimes they were irritatingly similar.
"What terrifies you so much about this place?” He demanded. ”Not a single person in here wishes harm upon us. So tell me what it is that has you so scared that you would remain close to a brother you despise?"
She finished the entire cup and set it down purposefully in front of him to show that she’d done what he wanted and now they could leave. As to his irritating question, her jaw took on a stubborn tilt and she didn’t answer him. He wouldn’t understand. Couldn’t understand. He was a man. He wouldn’t have to face the things she did, the uncertainty. Nenet wasn’t unfair enough to disregard that he was also trapped by life circumstances, but they simply weren’t the same, and as to why she was scared? She didn’t know how to explain the coils of dread that wrapped around her insides, threatening pain and death no matter the occasion. And she didn’t feel like attempting to verbally explain it.
Her own narrowed eyes met his in a silent plea for them to leave. If he made her drink more...she wasn’t totally sure what would happen, but she knew it wasn’t what he’d been instructed to do...
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Redhead? Nenet frowned and looked around the room for any person with red hair. Did Hena associate closely with Greeks? But they were so...unfortunate. Her eyes roved, jumping from person to person, finding only dark hair highlighted white from the sun streaming in through the open windows and doorway. On the far end of the room, the tops of their heads shone in yellow from the bowls of fire burning to chase away the shadows. But not on a single person did she see red hair. Nor did she see horrible pasty skin. All she could see were a few men too deep in their cups, hear bawdy laughter, and watched maids skitter here and there, bringing whatever was ordered.
Looking back at her brother, she watched him drink appreciatively from his cup and her mouth tightened as her gaze flattened. Oh. That redhead. As though wine was a person. Ha. Ha. How witty he was. Nenet rolled her eyes and rested her chin in her palm, elbow propped on the table as she watched him. What a dolt. He was still guzzling the wine and her lip curled as she watched the apple of his throat bob up and down with each lusty swallow. Gross.
"Surely you can bare to share one cup of wine with your brother,” he finally took his lips away from the cup enough to speak and Nenet fancied she could hear a bit of breathlessness to his voice. No wonder. It was hard to breathe and drink at the same time. And women found this attractive? ...why…? Droplets glistened in the sparse hairs of his mustache. A mustache he really should let go of, in her opinion. A cup was pushed towards her and she took the stem, not because she wanted to do this, but because she was half afraid that he’d pull her by the hair and shove wine down her throat if she didn’t do it for the asking.
As she lifted the cup to her nose, inhaling the subpar scent, she glanced at him and listened with growing resentment as he pointed out that she couldn’t very well live her life the way she wanted to - locked up with her books and her art. What happened when she married? Pft. Marriage. Nenet rolled her eyes when Akhenaten went on to point out that her future husband (who would never materialize if she had her way) would not appreciate her disappearing somewhere to be alone.
“I w-w-won-n’t m-marr-r-ry-y,” she said as stoutly as she knew how and drank the wine to spite him. Although, half way through the glass as she’d seen him doing, she wondered if this was spite or just obedience. Sometimes they were irritatingly similar.
"What terrifies you so much about this place?” He demanded. ”Not a single person in here wishes harm upon us. So tell me what it is that has you so scared that you would remain close to a brother you despise?"
She finished the entire cup and set it down purposefully in front of him to show that she’d done what he wanted and now they could leave. As to his irritating question, her jaw took on a stubborn tilt and she didn’t answer him. He wouldn’t understand. Couldn’t understand. He was a man. He wouldn’t have to face the things she did, the uncertainty. Nenet wasn’t unfair enough to disregard that he was also trapped by life circumstances, but they simply weren’t the same, and as to why she was scared? She didn’t know how to explain the coils of dread that wrapped around her insides, threatening pain and death no matter the occasion. And she didn’t feel like attempting to verbally explain it.
Her own narrowed eyes met his in a silent plea for them to leave. If he made her drink more...she wasn’t totally sure what would happen, but she knew it wasn’t what he’d been instructed to do...
Redhead? Nenet frowned and looked around the room for any person with red hair. Did Hena associate closely with Greeks? But they were so...unfortunate. Her eyes roved, jumping from person to person, finding only dark hair highlighted white from the sun streaming in through the open windows and doorway. On the far end of the room, the tops of their heads shone in yellow from the bowls of fire burning to chase away the shadows. But not on a single person did she see red hair. Nor did she see horrible pasty skin. All she could see were a few men too deep in their cups, hear bawdy laughter, and watched maids skitter here and there, bringing whatever was ordered.
Looking back at her brother, she watched him drink appreciatively from his cup and her mouth tightened as her gaze flattened. Oh. That redhead. As though wine was a person. Ha. Ha. How witty he was. Nenet rolled her eyes and rested her chin in her palm, elbow propped on the table as she watched him. What a dolt. He was still guzzling the wine and her lip curled as she watched the apple of his throat bob up and down with each lusty swallow. Gross.
"Surely you can bare to share one cup of wine with your brother,” he finally took his lips away from the cup enough to speak and Nenet fancied she could hear a bit of breathlessness to his voice. No wonder. It was hard to breathe and drink at the same time. And women found this attractive? ...why…? Droplets glistened in the sparse hairs of his mustache. A mustache he really should let go of, in her opinion. A cup was pushed towards her and she took the stem, not because she wanted to do this, but because she was half afraid that he’d pull her by the hair and shove wine down her throat if she didn’t do it for the asking.
As she lifted the cup to her nose, inhaling the subpar scent, she glanced at him and listened with growing resentment as he pointed out that she couldn’t very well live her life the way she wanted to - locked up with her books and her art. What happened when she married? Pft. Marriage. Nenet rolled her eyes when Akhenaten went on to point out that her future husband (who would never materialize if she had her way) would not appreciate her disappearing somewhere to be alone.
“I w-w-won-n’t m-marr-r-ry-y,” she said as stoutly as she knew how and drank the wine to spite him. Although, half way through the glass as she’d seen him doing, she wondered if this was spite or just obedience. Sometimes they were irritatingly similar.
"What terrifies you so much about this place?” He demanded. ”Not a single person in here wishes harm upon us. So tell me what it is that has you so scared that you would remain close to a brother you despise?"
She finished the entire cup and set it down purposefully in front of him to show that she’d done what he wanted and now they could leave. As to his irritating question, her jaw took on a stubborn tilt and she didn’t answer him. He wouldn’t understand. Couldn’t understand. He was a man. He wouldn’t have to face the things she did, the uncertainty. Nenet wasn’t unfair enough to disregard that he was also trapped by life circumstances, but they simply weren’t the same, and as to why she was scared? She didn’t know how to explain the coils of dread that wrapped around her insides, threatening pain and death no matter the occasion. And she didn’t feel like attempting to verbally explain it.
Her own narrowed eyes met his in a silent plea for them to leave. If he made her drink more...she wasn’t totally sure what would happen, but she knew it wasn’t what he’d been instructed to do...
He smirked a little as she tried to argue and say she wouldn’t marry.
“You don’t have a choice dear sister. The unfortunate part of our blood means that we must marry someone of appropriate breeding, and you will be expected to provide children to your future husband. And if not? Well, I can’t have a dead weight in the family, now can I?” He said, and yes it was a threat. He would not let his sisters mooch of the family forever, they would be married off to the highest bidder, and they would do their duties as wives and appease their husbands, for Hena would not take them back in and support them when he was in charge of the family. Except Nia, who he would allow to do what ever she wished with no arguments.
He watched as she finished the wine, wondering if it was out of fear for the situation and her wish to get out of there, or if it was out of spite for a brother that she didn’t care for. Either way, he was content that she had drank the wine, and he followed suit, finishing his own off as well.
He rolled his eyes as she didn’t answer him, but instead gave him that pleading look, assuming that she wanted to leave. She was absolutely no fun, couldn’t even stay in a tavern for ten minutes and have a few drinks without looking like she was about to wet herself. One day the cold realities of life would hit her, and she would have to deal with them. He wasn’t sure she could, she would likely absolutely break down into a nervous wreck, he would bet on it.
“Come then.” He said, putting coin on the table to pay for their drinks before he stood, taking her hand if only to lead her out of the tavern without incident. She seemed like she would die if one person in the building even looked at her funny. He couldn’t imagine being so scared that you just allowed your entire life to pass you by without experiencing a single thing outside of books.
He lead her from the tavern and back out into the sun, letting go of her hand once they were outside. He silently headed back towards the market where they had originally been going. He supposed he could just get this done with and then ditch her and go drink on his own if she wouldn’t play along and let him drink now.
For a brief moment he thought how funny it would be to lose her in the crowds at the market and leave her there to fend for herself, to see if she would be able to make it back to the house on her own. She needed to learn. Hena hadn’t yet determined if that was his plan or not. He would see how things went while they shopped for what their father had sent them out for. He knew he would be in a bunch of trouble if he did ditch her, though it wouldn’t be the first time for him.
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He smirked a little as she tried to argue and say she wouldn’t marry.
“You don’t have a choice dear sister. The unfortunate part of our blood means that we must marry someone of appropriate breeding, and you will be expected to provide children to your future husband. And if not? Well, I can’t have a dead weight in the family, now can I?” He said, and yes it was a threat. He would not let his sisters mooch of the family forever, they would be married off to the highest bidder, and they would do their duties as wives and appease their husbands, for Hena would not take them back in and support them when he was in charge of the family. Except Nia, who he would allow to do what ever she wished with no arguments.
He watched as she finished the wine, wondering if it was out of fear for the situation and her wish to get out of there, or if it was out of spite for a brother that she didn’t care for. Either way, he was content that she had drank the wine, and he followed suit, finishing his own off as well.
He rolled his eyes as she didn’t answer him, but instead gave him that pleading look, assuming that she wanted to leave. She was absolutely no fun, couldn’t even stay in a tavern for ten minutes and have a few drinks without looking like she was about to wet herself. One day the cold realities of life would hit her, and she would have to deal with them. He wasn’t sure she could, she would likely absolutely break down into a nervous wreck, he would bet on it.
“Come then.” He said, putting coin on the table to pay for their drinks before he stood, taking her hand if only to lead her out of the tavern without incident. She seemed like she would die if one person in the building even looked at her funny. He couldn’t imagine being so scared that you just allowed your entire life to pass you by without experiencing a single thing outside of books.
He lead her from the tavern and back out into the sun, letting go of her hand once they were outside. He silently headed back towards the market where they had originally been going. He supposed he could just get this done with and then ditch her and go drink on his own if she wouldn’t play along and let him drink now.
For a brief moment he thought how funny it would be to lose her in the crowds at the market and leave her there to fend for herself, to see if she would be able to make it back to the house on her own. She needed to learn. Hena hadn’t yet determined if that was his plan or not. He would see how things went while they shopped for what their father had sent them out for. He knew he would be in a bunch of trouble if he did ditch her, though it wouldn’t be the first time for him.
He smirked a little as she tried to argue and say she wouldn’t marry.
“You don’t have a choice dear sister. The unfortunate part of our blood means that we must marry someone of appropriate breeding, and you will be expected to provide children to your future husband. And if not? Well, I can’t have a dead weight in the family, now can I?” He said, and yes it was a threat. He would not let his sisters mooch of the family forever, they would be married off to the highest bidder, and they would do their duties as wives and appease their husbands, for Hena would not take them back in and support them when he was in charge of the family. Except Nia, who he would allow to do what ever she wished with no arguments.
He watched as she finished the wine, wondering if it was out of fear for the situation and her wish to get out of there, or if it was out of spite for a brother that she didn’t care for. Either way, he was content that she had drank the wine, and he followed suit, finishing his own off as well.
He rolled his eyes as she didn’t answer him, but instead gave him that pleading look, assuming that she wanted to leave. She was absolutely no fun, couldn’t even stay in a tavern for ten minutes and have a few drinks without looking like she was about to wet herself. One day the cold realities of life would hit her, and she would have to deal with them. He wasn’t sure she could, she would likely absolutely break down into a nervous wreck, he would bet on it.
“Come then.” He said, putting coin on the table to pay for their drinks before he stood, taking her hand if only to lead her out of the tavern without incident. She seemed like she would die if one person in the building even looked at her funny. He couldn’t imagine being so scared that you just allowed your entire life to pass you by without experiencing a single thing outside of books.
He lead her from the tavern and back out into the sun, letting go of her hand once they were outside. He silently headed back towards the market where they had originally been going. He supposed he could just get this done with and then ditch her and go drink on his own if she wouldn’t play along and let him drink now.
For a brief moment he thought how funny it would be to lose her in the crowds at the market and leave her there to fend for herself, to see if she would be able to make it back to the house on her own. She needed to learn. Hena hadn’t yet determined if that was his plan or not. He would see how things went while they shopped for what their father had sent them out for. He knew he would be in a bunch of trouble if he did ditch her, though it wouldn’t be the first time for him.
Like all the children of Iaheru, Akhenaten was pleasing to the eye. His strong features and soulful brown eyes would be enough to draw any woman in and forgive him for any of the horrid things that fell from his lips. Any woman but Nenet. As his sister, his powers of charm were lost on her and she fancied she could see him for what he was; a cruel brat. In sneering tones, Akhenaten outlined her future for her and though she wanted to close her ears to him, she could not. With Sutekh out of the family, she was no longer protected the way she might have been. When her father died, and she prayed that would be decades from now, she would be at the mercy of Akhenaten. Already he laid out a callous, unfeeling future for her. If she didn’t marry while she was young and passably attractive, then she likely wouldn’t marry at all. And if he somehow pawned her off on someone, the man her brother found would be, to Nenet’s mind, a punishment for her than for any real reason.
Either way, by her own choice or her brother’s, the life he described was bleak. The bitterness of the future Hena threatened left a horrid taste in her mouth that had nothing to do with the subpar wine this place provided.
Hena didn’t tease her about the wine like she assumed he might, and he didn’t force her to drink more. For a brief moment, she was elated that her silent pleading had worked. He rolled his eyes and stood, the chairs scraping against the stone floor as she followed him. His hand enclosed around hers and she thought, for just a moment, that he’d garnered some kind of brotherly affection for her, or softened just the slightest bit to her plight. That fantasy was over the second they were outside. He severed their connection by dropping her hand abruptly.
Nenet rolled her eyes. Gods forbid he was kind for too long. No, that might reveal him as a human being and what a crime that would be. She folded her arms and walked along just behind him towards the market. She glanced back at the servant who trotted along behind them. He was a tall, plain man who looked more bored than even Hena to be dragged into this with them. She wondered what he would have been doing at home if he’d not had to come with two bickering siblings. Nenet was not insensible that she was waited on hand and foot by other people, but what they did outside of take care of her, she wasn’t certain. Nor did her care extend quite so far as a radical notion born among some of the Egyptians that slaves should be paid and freed. What nonsense.
Turning back around, she blinked in vague startlement that they were already so close to the edges of the market. Dust billowed up into the air, giving the stalls, vendors, and patrons a hazy look. She glanced down at her white kalasiris, already annoyed that she was going to get dirty. Nenet threw Hena a look, like this was somehow his fault instead of their father’s, and glanced down at the list.
She chewed her bottom lip, noting that some of these things would definitely need haggled for. Stopping in the middle of the road, not caring that a few people grumbled in irritation for her disrupting the flow of traffic, forcing them to go around, she waved the papyrus under Hena’s nose.
“Y-y-y-our-rr g-g-o-oin-ng t-t-to-o h-hag-g-g-le? R-r-ight?” Her face burned but the haughty tone was definitely there, underneath her embarrassment. The truth was that Nenet was as spoiled as any of them. She just happened to be a lot more shy and it didn’t show as often.
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Like all the children of Iaheru, Akhenaten was pleasing to the eye. His strong features and soulful brown eyes would be enough to draw any woman in and forgive him for any of the horrid things that fell from his lips. Any woman but Nenet. As his sister, his powers of charm were lost on her and she fancied she could see him for what he was; a cruel brat. In sneering tones, Akhenaten outlined her future for her and though she wanted to close her ears to him, she could not. With Sutekh out of the family, she was no longer protected the way she might have been. When her father died, and she prayed that would be decades from now, she would be at the mercy of Akhenaten. Already he laid out a callous, unfeeling future for her. If she didn’t marry while she was young and passably attractive, then she likely wouldn’t marry at all. And if he somehow pawned her off on someone, the man her brother found would be, to Nenet’s mind, a punishment for her than for any real reason.
Either way, by her own choice or her brother’s, the life he described was bleak. The bitterness of the future Hena threatened left a horrid taste in her mouth that had nothing to do with the subpar wine this place provided.
Hena didn’t tease her about the wine like she assumed he might, and he didn’t force her to drink more. For a brief moment, she was elated that her silent pleading had worked. He rolled his eyes and stood, the chairs scraping against the stone floor as she followed him. His hand enclosed around hers and she thought, for just a moment, that he’d garnered some kind of brotherly affection for her, or softened just the slightest bit to her plight. That fantasy was over the second they were outside. He severed their connection by dropping her hand abruptly.
Nenet rolled her eyes. Gods forbid he was kind for too long. No, that might reveal him as a human being and what a crime that would be. She folded her arms and walked along just behind him towards the market. She glanced back at the servant who trotted along behind them. He was a tall, plain man who looked more bored than even Hena to be dragged into this with them. She wondered what he would have been doing at home if he’d not had to come with two bickering siblings. Nenet was not insensible that she was waited on hand and foot by other people, but what they did outside of take care of her, she wasn’t certain. Nor did her care extend quite so far as a radical notion born among some of the Egyptians that slaves should be paid and freed. What nonsense.
Turning back around, she blinked in vague startlement that they were already so close to the edges of the market. Dust billowed up into the air, giving the stalls, vendors, and patrons a hazy look. She glanced down at her white kalasiris, already annoyed that she was going to get dirty. Nenet threw Hena a look, like this was somehow his fault instead of their father’s, and glanced down at the list.
She chewed her bottom lip, noting that some of these things would definitely need haggled for. Stopping in the middle of the road, not caring that a few people grumbled in irritation for her disrupting the flow of traffic, forcing them to go around, she waved the papyrus under Hena’s nose.
“Y-y-y-our-rr g-g-o-oin-ng t-t-to-o h-hag-g-g-le? R-r-ight?” Her face burned but the haughty tone was definitely there, underneath her embarrassment. The truth was that Nenet was as spoiled as any of them. She just happened to be a lot more shy and it didn’t show as often.
Like all the children of Iaheru, Akhenaten was pleasing to the eye. His strong features and soulful brown eyes would be enough to draw any woman in and forgive him for any of the horrid things that fell from his lips. Any woman but Nenet. As his sister, his powers of charm were lost on her and she fancied she could see him for what he was; a cruel brat. In sneering tones, Akhenaten outlined her future for her and though she wanted to close her ears to him, she could not. With Sutekh out of the family, she was no longer protected the way she might have been. When her father died, and she prayed that would be decades from now, she would be at the mercy of Akhenaten. Already he laid out a callous, unfeeling future for her. If she didn’t marry while she was young and passably attractive, then she likely wouldn’t marry at all. And if he somehow pawned her off on someone, the man her brother found would be, to Nenet’s mind, a punishment for her than for any real reason.
Either way, by her own choice or her brother’s, the life he described was bleak. The bitterness of the future Hena threatened left a horrid taste in her mouth that had nothing to do with the subpar wine this place provided.
Hena didn’t tease her about the wine like she assumed he might, and he didn’t force her to drink more. For a brief moment, she was elated that her silent pleading had worked. He rolled his eyes and stood, the chairs scraping against the stone floor as she followed him. His hand enclosed around hers and she thought, for just a moment, that he’d garnered some kind of brotherly affection for her, or softened just the slightest bit to her plight. That fantasy was over the second they were outside. He severed their connection by dropping her hand abruptly.
Nenet rolled her eyes. Gods forbid he was kind for too long. No, that might reveal him as a human being and what a crime that would be. She folded her arms and walked along just behind him towards the market. She glanced back at the servant who trotted along behind them. He was a tall, plain man who looked more bored than even Hena to be dragged into this with them. She wondered what he would have been doing at home if he’d not had to come with two bickering siblings. Nenet was not insensible that she was waited on hand and foot by other people, but what they did outside of take care of her, she wasn’t certain. Nor did her care extend quite so far as a radical notion born among some of the Egyptians that slaves should be paid and freed. What nonsense.
Turning back around, she blinked in vague startlement that they were already so close to the edges of the market. Dust billowed up into the air, giving the stalls, vendors, and patrons a hazy look. She glanced down at her white kalasiris, already annoyed that she was going to get dirty. Nenet threw Hena a look, like this was somehow his fault instead of their father’s, and glanced down at the list.
She chewed her bottom lip, noting that some of these things would definitely need haggled for. Stopping in the middle of the road, not caring that a few people grumbled in irritation for her disrupting the flow of traffic, forcing them to go around, she waved the papyrus under Hena’s nose.
“Y-y-y-our-rr g-g-o-oin-ng t-t-to-o h-hag-g-g-le? R-r-ight?” Her face burned but the haughty tone was definitely there, underneath her embarrassment. The truth was that Nenet was as spoiled as any of them. She just happened to be a lot more shy and it didn’t show as often.
Hena held no sympathy for his sister when it came to what her future would be. She had chosen herself to avoid life, to avoid the chance of finding her own husband. Unless she changed now and went out and found herself someone good to marry that she might actually like, she would be forced to marry who ever Akhenaten chose for her. And he would not care if she liked the man or anything, he would care about what the marriage could provide to the family. He did not care if any of his sisters were married off to someone they loved, they were merely pawns for him to move the family forward. Except for Nia. She would be allowed to do what ever she wanted when Hena took over the family.
He scowled as suddenly his sister stopped in the middle of walking and stuttered out a sentence that he barely understood. Suddenly he smirked. He had fully planned on doing the haggling, having better things to do with his day than spend all day listening to her try to stutter her way through a deal. But now, that she had brought it up and she looked so utterly terrified? Now he would make her do it and he would enjoy watching her struggle.
“No. You will be. I’m only here to make sure you’re safe, father sent you to market, not me.” He said simply, figuring if nothing else he would get some entertainment from watching his sister struggle with the simplest task. As a family that had garnered their reputation and money as merchants, they needed to know how to do these things. Nenet would need to learn one way or another, what better day than now?
“Come then, we don’t have all day.” He said, grabbing her arm, he pulled her again so that she would start walking, as funny as it would be to watch her struggle, he didn’t feel like standing in the middle of the street waiting for her to get over herself and move on with the task. They could be there all damn day if he didn’t hurry her along. She needed to learn to get out of her room and live in the real world, not the world she had made in her head. He was surprised she hadn’t just wasted away in her room already.
“What’s first on the list then?” He asked, looking around to try and determine where they needed to go first. At least the list wasn’t huge by any means, so it shouldn’t take too much longer for them to get what they needed and get the hell home. Hena was thinking about the wine that was waiting for him, and the potential for escaping any more tasks given by his father and perhaps finding Ana instead. She would provide much better company than his sister did.
“You need to take some initiative here. I can’t be pulling you around and making you do things for the rest of your life.” He scowled, growing annoyed once more at this waste of time.
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Hena held no sympathy for his sister when it came to what her future would be. She had chosen herself to avoid life, to avoid the chance of finding her own husband. Unless she changed now and went out and found herself someone good to marry that she might actually like, she would be forced to marry who ever Akhenaten chose for her. And he would not care if she liked the man or anything, he would care about what the marriage could provide to the family. He did not care if any of his sisters were married off to someone they loved, they were merely pawns for him to move the family forward. Except for Nia. She would be allowed to do what ever she wanted when Hena took over the family.
He scowled as suddenly his sister stopped in the middle of walking and stuttered out a sentence that he barely understood. Suddenly he smirked. He had fully planned on doing the haggling, having better things to do with his day than spend all day listening to her try to stutter her way through a deal. But now, that she had brought it up and she looked so utterly terrified? Now he would make her do it and he would enjoy watching her struggle.
“No. You will be. I’m only here to make sure you’re safe, father sent you to market, not me.” He said simply, figuring if nothing else he would get some entertainment from watching his sister struggle with the simplest task. As a family that had garnered their reputation and money as merchants, they needed to know how to do these things. Nenet would need to learn one way or another, what better day than now?
“Come then, we don’t have all day.” He said, grabbing her arm, he pulled her again so that she would start walking, as funny as it would be to watch her struggle, he didn’t feel like standing in the middle of the street waiting for her to get over herself and move on with the task. They could be there all damn day if he didn’t hurry her along. She needed to learn to get out of her room and live in the real world, not the world she had made in her head. He was surprised she hadn’t just wasted away in her room already.
“What’s first on the list then?” He asked, looking around to try and determine where they needed to go first. At least the list wasn’t huge by any means, so it shouldn’t take too much longer for them to get what they needed and get the hell home. Hena was thinking about the wine that was waiting for him, and the potential for escaping any more tasks given by his father and perhaps finding Ana instead. She would provide much better company than his sister did.
“You need to take some initiative here. I can’t be pulling you around and making you do things for the rest of your life.” He scowled, growing annoyed once more at this waste of time.
Hena held no sympathy for his sister when it came to what her future would be. She had chosen herself to avoid life, to avoid the chance of finding her own husband. Unless she changed now and went out and found herself someone good to marry that she might actually like, she would be forced to marry who ever Akhenaten chose for her. And he would not care if she liked the man or anything, he would care about what the marriage could provide to the family. He did not care if any of his sisters were married off to someone they loved, they were merely pawns for him to move the family forward. Except for Nia. She would be allowed to do what ever she wanted when Hena took over the family.
He scowled as suddenly his sister stopped in the middle of walking and stuttered out a sentence that he barely understood. Suddenly he smirked. He had fully planned on doing the haggling, having better things to do with his day than spend all day listening to her try to stutter her way through a deal. But now, that she had brought it up and she looked so utterly terrified? Now he would make her do it and he would enjoy watching her struggle.
“No. You will be. I’m only here to make sure you’re safe, father sent you to market, not me.” He said simply, figuring if nothing else he would get some entertainment from watching his sister struggle with the simplest task. As a family that had garnered their reputation and money as merchants, they needed to know how to do these things. Nenet would need to learn one way or another, what better day than now?
“Come then, we don’t have all day.” He said, grabbing her arm, he pulled her again so that she would start walking, as funny as it would be to watch her struggle, he didn’t feel like standing in the middle of the street waiting for her to get over herself and move on with the task. They could be there all damn day if he didn’t hurry her along. She needed to learn to get out of her room and live in the real world, not the world she had made in her head. He was surprised she hadn’t just wasted away in her room already.
“What’s first on the list then?” He asked, looking around to try and determine where they needed to go first. At least the list wasn’t huge by any means, so it shouldn’t take too much longer for them to get what they needed and get the hell home. Hena was thinking about the wine that was waiting for him, and the potential for escaping any more tasks given by his father and perhaps finding Ana instead. She would provide much better company than his sister did.
“You need to take some initiative here. I can’t be pulling you around and making you do things for the rest of your life.” He scowled, growing annoyed once more at this waste of time.
It was like the spirit of Set lived inside Akhenaten. He’d looked annoyed while she spoke, but then his face so utterly changed from irritation to the kind of cruel joy Nenet had learned to dread. Her mouth dropped open as Akhenaten explained that, no, he wouldn’t be the one to be haggling. She would. “M-m-me?” she squeaked in indignation, brown eyes blazing at him with all the heat of glowing coals.
”I’m only here to make sure you’re safe, father sent you to market, not me," Akhenaten continued smoothly.
“N-n-no,” she shook her head violently against that notion. There was no way that their father, the man who babied her, would make that kind of distinction. He’d meant for Akhenaten to haggle. She was sure of it. With her stutter and the horrible time it would take to get through any transaction, she couldn’t imagine that Onuphrious would want his daughter to embarrass both herself and their family by making a spectacle. Akhenaten didn’t appear to care much for her plight. Quite the reverse, actually. He seemed to enjoy it.
Taking her arm, Akhenaten pulled on her to get her going again. Nenet dug her sandals against the ground but his hold had her sliding along as though she wasn’t putting up any resistance at all. How. Irritating!"Come then, we don’t have all day." Hena said casually, as though they weren’t having a silent struggle in the street. It was the stares from passersby more than his pulling on her that finally made her follow him. She jerked her arm free of his grasp after a few steps, shooting a glare of pure loathing at him and then pulled out the sheet when he asked what was on it first.
"You need to take some initiative here.” He said while she was trying to read. There was a brief gust of wind that folded the paper in her hands and she was trying to smooth it back out so that she could get a proper look at what it was they were after. ”I can’t be pulling you around and making you do things for the rest of your life."
“Sh-sh-u-t-t u-up!” Nenet snapped at him under her breath. Glaring at the list, she thrust it back at the servant behind them to get him to read it aloud. The man took it from her and without looking at Akhenaten for permission, began to rattle off the items. The servant didn't want to be here any longer than they did.
”Three horses, x amount of ink, papyrus, and finding someone to commission a new chariot.” the servant finished. Nenet blanched. So this wasn’t exactly a grocery run, which made sense. If it had ben, servants would be doing this. Not one of the ladies of the house. And Nenet knew horses better than anyone in the family. How annoying.
“D-d-on’t-t b-b-b-e m-mean-n!” she begged her brother. All of that would take forever if she had to haggle herself.
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It was like the spirit of Set lived inside Akhenaten. He’d looked annoyed while she spoke, but then his face so utterly changed from irritation to the kind of cruel joy Nenet had learned to dread. Her mouth dropped open as Akhenaten explained that, no, he wouldn’t be the one to be haggling. She would. “M-m-me?” she squeaked in indignation, brown eyes blazing at him with all the heat of glowing coals.
”I’m only here to make sure you’re safe, father sent you to market, not me," Akhenaten continued smoothly.
“N-n-no,” she shook her head violently against that notion. There was no way that their father, the man who babied her, would make that kind of distinction. He’d meant for Akhenaten to haggle. She was sure of it. With her stutter and the horrible time it would take to get through any transaction, she couldn’t imagine that Onuphrious would want his daughter to embarrass both herself and their family by making a spectacle. Akhenaten didn’t appear to care much for her plight. Quite the reverse, actually. He seemed to enjoy it.
Taking her arm, Akhenaten pulled on her to get her going again. Nenet dug her sandals against the ground but his hold had her sliding along as though she wasn’t putting up any resistance at all. How. Irritating!"Come then, we don’t have all day." Hena said casually, as though they weren’t having a silent struggle in the street. It was the stares from passersby more than his pulling on her that finally made her follow him. She jerked her arm free of his grasp after a few steps, shooting a glare of pure loathing at him and then pulled out the sheet when he asked what was on it first.
"You need to take some initiative here.” He said while she was trying to read. There was a brief gust of wind that folded the paper in her hands and she was trying to smooth it back out so that she could get a proper look at what it was they were after. ”I can’t be pulling you around and making you do things for the rest of your life."
“Sh-sh-u-t-t u-up!” Nenet snapped at him under her breath. Glaring at the list, she thrust it back at the servant behind them to get him to read it aloud. The man took it from her and without looking at Akhenaten for permission, began to rattle off the items. The servant didn't want to be here any longer than they did.
”Three horses, x amount of ink, papyrus, and finding someone to commission a new chariot.” the servant finished. Nenet blanched. So this wasn’t exactly a grocery run, which made sense. If it had ben, servants would be doing this. Not one of the ladies of the house. And Nenet knew horses better than anyone in the family. How annoying.
“D-d-on’t-t b-b-b-e m-mean-n!” she begged her brother. All of that would take forever if she had to haggle herself.
It was like the spirit of Set lived inside Akhenaten. He’d looked annoyed while she spoke, but then his face so utterly changed from irritation to the kind of cruel joy Nenet had learned to dread. Her mouth dropped open as Akhenaten explained that, no, he wouldn’t be the one to be haggling. She would. “M-m-me?” she squeaked in indignation, brown eyes blazing at him with all the heat of glowing coals.
”I’m only here to make sure you’re safe, father sent you to market, not me," Akhenaten continued smoothly.
“N-n-no,” she shook her head violently against that notion. There was no way that their father, the man who babied her, would make that kind of distinction. He’d meant for Akhenaten to haggle. She was sure of it. With her stutter and the horrible time it would take to get through any transaction, she couldn’t imagine that Onuphrious would want his daughter to embarrass both herself and their family by making a spectacle. Akhenaten didn’t appear to care much for her plight. Quite the reverse, actually. He seemed to enjoy it.
Taking her arm, Akhenaten pulled on her to get her going again. Nenet dug her sandals against the ground but his hold had her sliding along as though she wasn’t putting up any resistance at all. How. Irritating!"Come then, we don’t have all day." Hena said casually, as though they weren’t having a silent struggle in the street. It was the stares from passersby more than his pulling on her that finally made her follow him. She jerked her arm free of his grasp after a few steps, shooting a glare of pure loathing at him and then pulled out the sheet when he asked what was on it first.
"You need to take some initiative here.” He said while she was trying to read. There was a brief gust of wind that folded the paper in her hands and she was trying to smooth it back out so that she could get a proper look at what it was they were after. ”I can’t be pulling you around and making you do things for the rest of your life."
“Sh-sh-u-t-t u-up!” Nenet snapped at him under her breath. Glaring at the list, she thrust it back at the servant behind them to get him to read it aloud. The man took it from her and without looking at Akhenaten for permission, began to rattle off the items. The servant didn't want to be here any longer than they did.
”Three horses, x amount of ink, papyrus, and finding someone to commission a new chariot.” the servant finished. Nenet blanched. So this wasn’t exactly a grocery run, which made sense. If it had ben, servants would be doing this. Not one of the ladies of the house. And Nenet knew horses better than anyone in the family. How annoying.
“D-d-on’t-t b-b-b-e m-mean-n!” she begged her brother. All of that would take forever if she had to haggle herself.
“Yes.” He said simply, the cruel and gleeful smile still on his face at her pure horror. She had to expect something like this, she couldn’t have thought that Hena would just take over for her and do it all. He was not Sutekh who thought himself the most important person in the world. Oh no, Hena was a nice guy, he would allow his sister this opportunity to practice her haggling. After all, it was an important skill to have when one came from a merchant family, and one day when she was married off either by their father or by Hena himself, she would need to take care of household things. She very well could not expect her husband to go to market for food and such. Men were far too busy for such things.
He felt her attempt to dig in and not let him pull her, but she was tiny and it was easy for Hena to drag her along, even if he was not the strongest man. He was still stronger than she was.
He ignored her as she told him to shut up, even that sounded timid even though she was clearly mad at him. He couldn’t believe that someone so mild was even related to him. She was pathetic, she had absolutely no confidence in anything. He had no clue how she had been Sutekh’s favourite, or even their mother and father’s favourite either.
“I’m not being mean. I’m preparing you for real life. Do you think that you would just get a free ride off the family’s money for the rest of your life? Even if I do not find a man who would be dumb enough to want to marry you, you will not be sitting in your room reading and spending the house’s money. Not under my roof.” He said, with his last declaration his cruel smile grew. She would need to face the reality that Hena would soon be the head of the house, when their father became too old and passed the mantle down to him. And she would not be given special favour. She had been treated as a precious little angel her whole life, had gotten more attention than Hena even though she was a cowering fool. She would not get the same from him.
“We will get the horses last then, so we are not attempting to lead them around while we procure the rest.” He said, pausing just on the outside of the busiest part of the market. He looked at Nenet.
“Come then dear sister, you take the lead as this is your trip. And you’d best make sure that everything on that list is purchased, and the price is low. Or father will not be happy.” He said, taking far too much joy out of the discomfort on his sister’s face. Normally he left her to her own things, but if he was being forced to be out here wasting time with her, then he would at least enjoy himself doing it.
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“Yes.” He said simply, the cruel and gleeful smile still on his face at her pure horror. She had to expect something like this, she couldn’t have thought that Hena would just take over for her and do it all. He was not Sutekh who thought himself the most important person in the world. Oh no, Hena was a nice guy, he would allow his sister this opportunity to practice her haggling. After all, it was an important skill to have when one came from a merchant family, and one day when she was married off either by their father or by Hena himself, she would need to take care of household things. She very well could not expect her husband to go to market for food and such. Men were far too busy for such things.
He felt her attempt to dig in and not let him pull her, but she was tiny and it was easy for Hena to drag her along, even if he was not the strongest man. He was still stronger than she was.
He ignored her as she told him to shut up, even that sounded timid even though she was clearly mad at him. He couldn’t believe that someone so mild was even related to him. She was pathetic, she had absolutely no confidence in anything. He had no clue how she had been Sutekh’s favourite, or even their mother and father’s favourite either.
“I’m not being mean. I’m preparing you for real life. Do you think that you would just get a free ride off the family’s money for the rest of your life? Even if I do not find a man who would be dumb enough to want to marry you, you will not be sitting in your room reading and spending the house’s money. Not under my roof.” He said, with his last declaration his cruel smile grew. She would need to face the reality that Hena would soon be the head of the house, when their father became too old and passed the mantle down to him. And she would not be given special favour. She had been treated as a precious little angel her whole life, had gotten more attention than Hena even though she was a cowering fool. She would not get the same from him.
“We will get the horses last then, so we are not attempting to lead them around while we procure the rest.” He said, pausing just on the outside of the busiest part of the market. He looked at Nenet.
“Come then dear sister, you take the lead as this is your trip. And you’d best make sure that everything on that list is purchased, and the price is low. Or father will not be happy.” He said, taking far too much joy out of the discomfort on his sister’s face. Normally he left her to her own things, but if he was being forced to be out here wasting time with her, then he would at least enjoy himself doing it.
“Yes.” He said simply, the cruel and gleeful smile still on his face at her pure horror. She had to expect something like this, she couldn’t have thought that Hena would just take over for her and do it all. He was not Sutekh who thought himself the most important person in the world. Oh no, Hena was a nice guy, he would allow his sister this opportunity to practice her haggling. After all, it was an important skill to have when one came from a merchant family, and one day when she was married off either by their father or by Hena himself, she would need to take care of household things. She very well could not expect her husband to go to market for food and such. Men were far too busy for such things.
He felt her attempt to dig in and not let him pull her, but she was tiny and it was easy for Hena to drag her along, even if he was not the strongest man. He was still stronger than she was.
He ignored her as she told him to shut up, even that sounded timid even though she was clearly mad at him. He couldn’t believe that someone so mild was even related to him. She was pathetic, she had absolutely no confidence in anything. He had no clue how she had been Sutekh’s favourite, or even their mother and father’s favourite either.
“I’m not being mean. I’m preparing you for real life. Do you think that you would just get a free ride off the family’s money for the rest of your life? Even if I do not find a man who would be dumb enough to want to marry you, you will not be sitting in your room reading and spending the house’s money. Not under my roof.” He said, with his last declaration his cruel smile grew. She would need to face the reality that Hena would soon be the head of the house, when their father became too old and passed the mantle down to him. And she would not be given special favour. She had been treated as a precious little angel her whole life, had gotten more attention than Hena even though she was a cowering fool. She would not get the same from him.
“We will get the horses last then, so we are not attempting to lead them around while we procure the rest.” He said, pausing just on the outside of the busiest part of the market. He looked at Nenet.
“Come then dear sister, you take the lead as this is your trip. And you’d best make sure that everything on that list is purchased, and the price is low. Or father will not be happy.” He said, taking far too much joy out of the discomfort on his sister’s face. Normally he left her to her own things, but if he was being forced to be out here wasting time with her, then he would at least enjoy himself doing it.
Would father be that mad if Hena turned up poisoned? Surely not. Her sandals skidded across the sandy ground without a problem and if she was younger and liked Hena better, this little desert skiing trip might have been fun. Every word, dripping with disdain and sarcasm out of her brother’s mouth made her loathe him. Someone dumb enough to marry her? The insult shouldn’t have stung but it did. Nenet had never bothered to try and figure out why the H’Sheifa children were oil and water. There wasn’t a point. The sun rose, the sun set, and the children of Iaheru and Oniphrious were destined to fight each other.
The day was too hot and there were too many people for her to tear up at anything else he said, no matter how horrible. Whatever burr was in his saddle, she didn’t know, but she found herself being shoved toward the noisiest part of the bustling market. Biting her lower lip, she resisted looking back at him for some sort of reassurance. There wouldn’t be one. If anything, she’d probably only find exasperation, or, worse, condescension. He needed to be careful, she decided. Because she might very well feel like hunting a snake tonight and have it end up in his bed by morning.
Right, she thought, now chewing her thumbnail and looking about with dark eyes, round and flitting from stall to stall. Papyrus… Though she’d sworn to herself that she would not turn to ask Hena, she did exactly that, only the smug look on his face made her narrow her eyes at him and spin quickly around again. Now she was kind of wishing she’d drank a little more, because the liquid courage he’d tried to give her wasn’t working. If she was quick enough, could she dodge him and run back home?
A loud bellow made her jump and she leaped forward to avoid a camel and its master that appeared out of nowhere. The huge animal stomped by, making another horrible sound and left a lingering, distasteful tang in the air as it loudly expelled a gush of air from its backside. That was enough for Nenet. She practically hurled herself into the bustling souk. Almost at once, she was lost. Stalls swept up and down the street in a never ending parade of brightly colored cloth roofs and waving arms. Some stalls had huge clay pots sitting outside them, others held mountains of pottery, hanging clothes, animals in cages. The air was thick with sweat and roasting meats. Somewhere over all of that, she could smell the fishmarket beyond the souk, out of sight and still as potent.
Men and women brushed past her in a dizzying blur and she spun on the spot trying to find some sort of scribe or see a stall that looked like it might sell ink, but nothing stood out to her immediately. The fear of Hena publicly embarrassing her was stronger than her fear of talking to strangers, at the moment, and she stepped forward, peering at each booth as she passed it. The first several, she jumped when the owners wildly waved her to come forward, shouting things like “Pretty necklaces for pretty ladies!” or “Oil! Finest in the souk!” and “WIGS! YOU NEED ONE, MY LADY!”
Nenet gave him a wide look and felt her hair. No, she didn’t. This one was fine. How dare he! But did she do anything? No. Like the coward her brother assumed she was, she slunk past, merely shooting the man a withering look. Her sour mood was short lived for, there, a few stalls away, sat a prim man in a sleek white kilt, on a fine plush carpet. With his legs tucked neatly beneath him and his head bowed over a clay tablet, he could be nothing else than a scribe. If he did not sell papyrus, he certainly knew someone who did.
Weak with relief and the sudden rush of near success, Nenet didn’t look behind her to see if Hena followed. She merely pressed on until she came to the man. It was here that her new courage faltered and she stood mute when he looked up at her with a polite smile. ”Yes, my lady?” His own smile faded when she merely looked toward the servant who had not lost her in the crowd. The man did not speak for her, however, but did hand her the list, which she shoved immediately into the surprised scribe’s arms. He scanned it. ”You need ink and papyrus?” he asked, clearly unsure about this. Nenet nodded and the scribe asked the dreaded question: how much?
“Uh,” she said articulately. Then, she gave a half shrug. This did not impress the scribe, who, despite their difference in station, or perhaps because of it, was not willing to name a number. It was a struggle, and her face was on fire the entire time, but she finally stuttered out a high amount. This was both practical and accurate. She wasn’t mentally deficient and had calculated, in her head, how much ink and paper she went through, then the likely amount her father, mother, sisters, and brother went through. Hena, obviously, did not account for the heavy load of paper, what with his mind being filled with drink and women. The scribe then made her spend a painful half hour haggling about price. He, at least, was mostly patient with her speech, but she felt like she could practically feel her brother’s annoyance. At last, they were free and she walked with one hand shielding her eyes towards the chariot makers, not wanting to speak to Hena.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Would father be that mad if Hena turned up poisoned? Surely not. Her sandals skidded across the sandy ground without a problem and if she was younger and liked Hena better, this little desert skiing trip might have been fun. Every word, dripping with disdain and sarcasm out of her brother’s mouth made her loathe him. Someone dumb enough to marry her? The insult shouldn’t have stung but it did. Nenet had never bothered to try and figure out why the H’Sheifa children were oil and water. There wasn’t a point. The sun rose, the sun set, and the children of Iaheru and Oniphrious were destined to fight each other.
The day was too hot and there were too many people for her to tear up at anything else he said, no matter how horrible. Whatever burr was in his saddle, she didn’t know, but she found herself being shoved toward the noisiest part of the bustling market. Biting her lower lip, she resisted looking back at him for some sort of reassurance. There wouldn’t be one. If anything, she’d probably only find exasperation, or, worse, condescension. He needed to be careful, she decided. Because she might very well feel like hunting a snake tonight and have it end up in his bed by morning.
Right, she thought, now chewing her thumbnail and looking about with dark eyes, round and flitting from stall to stall. Papyrus… Though she’d sworn to herself that she would not turn to ask Hena, she did exactly that, only the smug look on his face made her narrow her eyes at him and spin quickly around again. Now she was kind of wishing she’d drank a little more, because the liquid courage he’d tried to give her wasn’t working. If she was quick enough, could she dodge him and run back home?
A loud bellow made her jump and she leaped forward to avoid a camel and its master that appeared out of nowhere. The huge animal stomped by, making another horrible sound and left a lingering, distasteful tang in the air as it loudly expelled a gush of air from its backside. That was enough for Nenet. She practically hurled herself into the bustling souk. Almost at once, she was lost. Stalls swept up and down the street in a never ending parade of brightly colored cloth roofs and waving arms. Some stalls had huge clay pots sitting outside them, others held mountains of pottery, hanging clothes, animals in cages. The air was thick with sweat and roasting meats. Somewhere over all of that, she could smell the fishmarket beyond the souk, out of sight and still as potent.
Men and women brushed past her in a dizzying blur and she spun on the spot trying to find some sort of scribe or see a stall that looked like it might sell ink, but nothing stood out to her immediately. The fear of Hena publicly embarrassing her was stronger than her fear of talking to strangers, at the moment, and she stepped forward, peering at each booth as she passed it. The first several, she jumped when the owners wildly waved her to come forward, shouting things like “Pretty necklaces for pretty ladies!” or “Oil! Finest in the souk!” and “WIGS! YOU NEED ONE, MY LADY!”
Nenet gave him a wide look and felt her hair. No, she didn’t. This one was fine. How dare he! But did she do anything? No. Like the coward her brother assumed she was, she slunk past, merely shooting the man a withering look. Her sour mood was short lived for, there, a few stalls away, sat a prim man in a sleek white kilt, on a fine plush carpet. With his legs tucked neatly beneath him and his head bowed over a clay tablet, he could be nothing else than a scribe. If he did not sell papyrus, he certainly knew someone who did.
Weak with relief and the sudden rush of near success, Nenet didn’t look behind her to see if Hena followed. She merely pressed on until she came to the man. It was here that her new courage faltered and she stood mute when he looked up at her with a polite smile. ”Yes, my lady?” His own smile faded when she merely looked toward the servant who had not lost her in the crowd. The man did not speak for her, however, but did hand her the list, which she shoved immediately into the surprised scribe’s arms. He scanned it. ”You need ink and papyrus?” he asked, clearly unsure about this. Nenet nodded and the scribe asked the dreaded question: how much?
“Uh,” she said articulately. Then, she gave a half shrug. This did not impress the scribe, who, despite their difference in station, or perhaps because of it, was not willing to name a number. It was a struggle, and her face was on fire the entire time, but she finally stuttered out a high amount. This was both practical and accurate. She wasn’t mentally deficient and had calculated, in her head, how much ink and paper she went through, then the likely amount her father, mother, sisters, and brother went through. Hena, obviously, did not account for the heavy load of paper, what with his mind being filled with drink and women. The scribe then made her spend a painful half hour haggling about price. He, at least, was mostly patient with her speech, but she felt like she could practically feel her brother’s annoyance. At last, they were free and she walked with one hand shielding her eyes towards the chariot makers, not wanting to speak to Hena.
Would father be that mad if Hena turned up poisoned? Surely not. Her sandals skidded across the sandy ground without a problem and if she was younger and liked Hena better, this little desert skiing trip might have been fun. Every word, dripping with disdain and sarcasm out of her brother’s mouth made her loathe him. Someone dumb enough to marry her? The insult shouldn’t have stung but it did. Nenet had never bothered to try and figure out why the H’Sheifa children were oil and water. There wasn’t a point. The sun rose, the sun set, and the children of Iaheru and Oniphrious were destined to fight each other.
The day was too hot and there were too many people for her to tear up at anything else he said, no matter how horrible. Whatever burr was in his saddle, she didn’t know, but she found herself being shoved toward the noisiest part of the bustling market. Biting her lower lip, she resisted looking back at him for some sort of reassurance. There wouldn’t be one. If anything, she’d probably only find exasperation, or, worse, condescension. He needed to be careful, she decided. Because she might very well feel like hunting a snake tonight and have it end up in his bed by morning.
Right, she thought, now chewing her thumbnail and looking about with dark eyes, round and flitting from stall to stall. Papyrus… Though she’d sworn to herself that she would not turn to ask Hena, she did exactly that, only the smug look on his face made her narrow her eyes at him and spin quickly around again. Now she was kind of wishing she’d drank a little more, because the liquid courage he’d tried to give her wasn’t working. If she was quick enough, could she dodge him and run back home?
A loud bellow made her jump and she leaped forward to avoid a camel and its master that appeared out of nowhere. The huge animal stomped by, making another horrible sound and left a lingering, distasteful tang in the air as it loudly expelled a gush of air from its backside. That was enough for Nenet. She practically hurled herself into the bustling souk. Almost at once, she was lost. Stalls swept up and down the street in a never ending parade of brightly colored cloth roofs and waving arms. Some stalls had huge clay pots sitting outside them, others held mountains of pottery, hanging clothes, animals in cages. The air was thick with sweat and roasting meats. Somewhere over all of that, she could smell the fishmarket beyond the souk, out of sight and still as potent.
Men and women brushed past her in a dizzying blur and she spun on the spot trying to find some sort of scribe or see a stall that looked like it might sell ink, but nothing stood out to her immediately. The fear of Hena publicly embarrassing her was stronger than her fear of talking to strangers, at the moment, and she stepped forward, peering at each booth as she passed it. The first several, she jumped when the owners wildly waved her to come forward, shouting things like “Pretty necklaces for pretty ladies!” or “Oil! Finest in the souk!” and “WIGS! YOU NEED ONE, MY LADY!”
Nenet gave him a wide look and felt her hair. No, she didn’t. This one was fine. How dare he! But did she do anything? No. Like the coward her brother assumed she was, she slunk past, merely shooting the man a withering look. Her sour mood was short lived for, there, a few stalls away, sat a prim man in a sleek white kilt, on a fine plush carpet. With his legs tucked neatly beneath him and his head bowed over a clay tablet, he could be nothing else than a scribe. If he did not sell papyrus, he certainly knew someone who did.
Weak with relief and the sudden rush of near success, Nenet didn’t look behind her to see if Hena followed. She merely pressed on until she came to the man. It was here that her new courage faltered and she stood mute when he looked up at her with a polite smile. ”Yes, my lady?” His own smile faded when she merely looked toward the servant who had not lost her in the crowd. The man did not speak for her, however, but did hand her the list, which she shoved immediately into the surprised scribe’s arms. He scanned it. ”You need ink and papyrus?” he asked, clearly unsure about this. Nenet nodded and the scribe asked the dreaded question: how much?
“Uh,” she said articulately. Then, she gave a half shrug. This did not impress the scribe, who, despite their difference in station, or perhaps because of it, was not willing to name a number. It was a struggle, and her face was on fire the entire time, but she finally stuttered out a high amount. This was both practical and accurate. She wasn’t mentally deficient and had calculated, in her head, how much ink and paper she went through, then the likely amount her father, mother, sisters, and brother went through. Hena, obviously, did not account for the heavy load of paper, what with his mind being filled with drink and women. The scribe then made her spend a painful half hour haggling about price. He, at least, was mostly patient with her speech, but she felt like she could practically feel her brother’s annoyance. At last, they were free and she walked with one hand shielding her eyes towards the chariot makers, not wanting to speak to Hena.
Hena simply followed his sister, taking probably too much joy out of her discomfort. Some would claim he was being cruel, Hena would counter with the fact that he was simply teaching her how the world worked. She would not always have the luxury of hiding away in her room with her stupid books, especially when Hena took over the family. She would make herself useful to him or she would find herself wed off to the first person who was desperate enough for a wife to take someone like her. Hena would not allow her to spend his families money, his future fortune, while wasting away in her room. She would face the world and show him that she could be of use, or she would find out quickly the way the world worked when not living in the lap of luxury.
Hena laughed loudly as he watched his sister run off terrified from a camel. One of the most common animals to be found in Egypt, a tame and harmless creature, she ran from it as if it had been holding a knife up to her and demanding her money. He rolled his eyes and moved to follow after her, and while his pace was a bit more brisk to catch up with her, it was much more casual than her run had been.
He waited there, rather impatiently as she stammered and stuttered her way through haggling terribly. She managed to get an okay price for the item though, and he couldn’t complain much about that.
He snickered as she seemed to hurry off, seemingly trying to avoid further interaction with him. Not if he had something to say about it.
“Oh look, you spoke to someone and didn’t die.” He scoffed, mocking her for her avoidance of human interaction. He could not understand her fear, she had never been hurt by anyone truly as far as he knew. She had just always been so timid of everything, even while living a sheltered life.
“Come then, I will speak to the next one.” He said, taking the lead as he caught up to her. Mostly he just didn’t feel like spending the majority of his day listening to her struggling to get words out. She had taken so long with the last merchant that he felt like if he let her do every single deal, they would be there until the sun set and the market closed. The list was an easy one, it should not take so long to do.
He approached the chariot makers with his usual confidence, knowing that he would be able to strike a good deal with the man, or if the man was not reasonable, he would simply move on to the next and take his business elsewhere. He knew the tips and tricks to bartering, though his parents probably thought he had not been paying attention to such things, Hena had the blood of a merchant, and despite his flippant attitude, he actually enjoyed the art of haggling.
The conversation was much shorter than the one his sister had struggled through with the merchant, a deal being struck quickly that worked for both Hena and the chariot builder. After sealing the deal with a deposit of some money, Hena lead his sister from the shop before speaking.
“It is not difficult, sister. It is about knowing your business is important. Without our business and the business of people like us, these shops would have to close. You need to remember that these people rely on his for their food and shelter, and with that have the confidence in knowing that they will strike a deal if pressed for one.” He said, attempting to give her some genuine advice.
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.
Badges
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Hena simply followed his sister, taking probably too much joy out of her discomfort. Some would claim he was being cruel, Hena would counter with the fact that he was simply teaching her how the world worked. She would not always have the luxury of hiding away in her room with her stupid books, especially when Hena took over the family. She would make herself useful to him or she would find herself wed off to the first person who was desperate enough for a wife to take someone like her. Hena would not allow her to spend his families money, his future fortune, while wasting away in her room. She would face the world and show him that she could be of use, or she would find out quickly the way the world worked when not living in the lap of luxury.
Hena laughed loudly as he watched his sister run off terrified from a camel. One of the most common animals to be found in Egypt, a tame and harmless creature, she ran from it as if it had been holding a knife up to her and demanding her money. He rolled his eyes and moved to follow after her, and while his pace was a bit more brisk to catch up with her, it was much more casual than her run had been.
He waited there, rather impatiently as she stammered and stuttered her way through haggling terribly. She managed to get an okay price for the item though, and he couldn’t complain much about that.
He snickered as she seemed to hurry off, seemingly trying to avoid further interaction with him. Not if he had something to say about it.
“Oh look, you spoke to someone and didn’t die.” He scoffed, mocking her for her avoidance of human interaction. He could not understand her fear, she had never been hurt by anyone truly as far as he knew. She had just always been so timid of everything, even while living a sheltered life.
“Come then, I will speak to the next one.” He said, taking the lead as he caught up to her. Mostly he just didn’t feel like spending the majority of his day listening to her struggling to get words out. She had taken so long with the last merchant that he felt like if he let her do every single deal, they would be there until the sun set and the market closed. The list was an easy one, it should not take so long to do.
He approached the chariot makers with his usual confidence, knowing that he would be able to strike a good deal with the man, or if the man was not reasonable, he would simply move on to the next and take his business elsewhere. He knew the tips and tricks to bartering, though his parents probably thought he had not been paying attention to such things, Hena had the blood of a merchant, and despite his flippant attitude, he actually enjoyed the art of haggling.
The conversation was much shorter than the one his sister had struggled through with the merchant, a deal being struck quickly that worked for both Hena and the chariot builder. After sealing the deal with a deposit of some money, Hena lead his sister from the shop before speaking.
“It is not difficult, sister. It is about knowing your business is important. Without our business and the business of people like us, these shops would have to close. You need to remember that these people rely on his for their food and shelter, and with that have the confidence in knowing that they will strike a deal if pressed for one.” He said, attempting to give her some genuine advice.
Hena simply followed his sister, taking probably too much joy out of her discomfort. Some would claim he was being cruel, Hena would counter with the fact that he was simply teaching her how the world worked. She would not always have the luxury of hiding away in her room with her stupid books, especially when Hena took over the family. She would make herself useful to him or she would find herself wed off to the first person who was desperate enough for a wife to take someone like her. Hena would not allow her to spend his families money, his future fortune, while wasting away in her room. She would face the world and show him that she could be of use, or she would find out quickly the way the world worked when not living in the lap of luxury.
Hena laughed loudly as he watched his sister run off terrified from a camel. One of the most common animals to be found in Egypt, a tame and harmless creature, she ran from it as if it had been holding a knife up to her and demanding her money. He rolled his eyes and moved to follow after her, and while his pace was a bit more brisk to catch up with her, it was much more casual than her run had been.
He waited there, rather impatiently as she stammered and stuttered her way through haggling terribly. She managed to get an okay price for the item though, and he couldn’t complain much about that.
He snickered as she seemed to hurry off, seemingly trying to avoid further interaction with him. Not if he had something to say about it.
“Oh look, you spoke to someone and didn’t die.” He scoffed, mocking her for her avoidance of human interaction. He could not understand her fear, she had never been hurt by anyone truly as far as he knew. She had just always been so timid of everything, even while living a sheltered life.
“Come then, I will speak to the next one.” He said, taking the lead as he caught up to her. Mostly he just didn’t feel like spending the majority of his day listening to her struggling to get words out. She had taken so long with the last merchant that he felt like if he let her do every single deal, they would be there until the sun set and the market closed. The list was an easy one, it should not take so long to do.
He approached the chariot makers with his usual confidence, knowing that he would be able to strike a good deal with the man, or if the man was not reasonable, he would simply move on to the next and take his business elsewhere. He knew the tips and tricks to bartering, though his parents probably thought he had not been paying attention to such things, Hena had the blood of a merchant, and despite his flippant attitude, he actually enjoyed the art of haggling.
The conversation was much shorter than the one his sister had struggled through with the merchant, a deal being struck quickly that worked for both Hena and the chariot builder. After sealing the deal with a deposit of some money, Hena lead his sister from the shop before speaking.
“It is not difficult, sister. It is about knowing your business is important. Without our business and the business of people like us, these shops would have to close. You need to remember that these people rely on his for their food and shelter, and with that have the confidence in knowing that they will strike a deal if pressed for one.” He said, attempting to give her some genuine advice.