In her painting smock and seriously concentrating, Nenet hadn’t called out for the servant to come in until the fifth polite knock had turned into a sixth BANG BANG BANG when the man had lost his patience. She glared at the door, ripped off her smock, tossing it on the ground, and wrenched the door open, leveling the servant with a sullen glare. The man was not afraid of her and glared right back.

”Lady Neithotep requests your presence at the stables.” The servant aimed for a remarkable degree of calm in his voice that his face did not mimic. ”What may I tell her?”

“W-w-why?” Nenet’s suspicions immediately shot out of her mouth and she narrowed her eyes, wondering what sort of trick this might be of her sister’s.

”Horses?” the man ventured and, to his intense relief, Nenet, after a long, tense moment, nodded. She shut the door immediately in his face and did not give him a timeframe, but it didn’t matter. He was off to inform his other mistress that, yes, Nenet would meet her, while Nenet herself set about scrubbing her nails free of paint. She was reclusive, not dirty. It took five minutes with a bristled brush to rid herself of dry flecks of paint, but at last Nenet was slipping her feet into her sandals and leaving her room.

As she moved along the shadowed interior corridor of the upstairs, she ran her fingers along the cool stone walls. The way the houses were built, they maintained a remarkable ability to be cool during the day and warm at night. Though the house could be downright cold at midnight, most of the time Nenet did not have need for a shawl or anything close to it, and she wandered out into the courtyard in a kalasiris of plain white. Unlike most women, Nenet did not bare her breasts in public. Nor did she usually wear a lot of jewelry. The only indicator of her station as daughter of the house at the moment was the make of her clothes and the obvious expense that the fabric cost.

Her eyebrows raised when she saw Nia sitting atop the horse. At Nia’s question, Nenet smiled impishly and nodded. “A-always,” she answered as smoothly as she ever did. Had Nia asked her to ride before this moment and she forgot? Or was this a surprise? Either way, Nenet intended to ride the new horse that Nia had brought home so mysteriously. Nenet had not asked where it came from or why Nia was with it. It was best not to ask those kinds of questions.

On approach, the slave had that particular horse already saddled and was handing her the reins. Nenet nodded to him and swung herself up easily into the saddle, looking over at her elder sister with the kind of superior confidence she only ever displayed while riding. “N-nia,” she looked her over and pointed. “S-s-sit s-s-trait-ter.” Without giving Nia more instructions than that, nor asking where her sister wanted to go, Nenet simply squeezed her thighs against the horse and was delighted that the mare practically glided forward. She twisted to look at Nia and laughed a little before turning back around. How lovely!

The Sheifa’s gate melted away behind her and she felt like she could finally breathe. This must be how fish felt when they darted through the river, or a bird soaring on a wind current; complete and total freedom. Nenet set the reins in her lap and flung her arms out to the sides, head tipped back, eyes closed, letting the sun’s heat bathe her face. It turned her freckles bronze and outlined her profile in molten gold. The mare beneath her responded to even the least of Nenet’s commands and she finally lowered her arms, to smooth her fingers over the horse’s coarse mane.

Quick, jealous trots brought Nia’s horse together with this new mare and Nenet felt her horse sidestep to bring a little bit of distance between them. Obviously this new mare would need to find her place in the hierarchy of the Sheifa’s tiny herd and Nenet suddenly thought that it might be difficult. Though the mare was docile with people, she might not be so with her own kind and Nenet had the sneaking suspicion that her new girl might want to be top of the pyramid.

“How do you like her?” Nia asked, prompting Nenet to look over. Her deep brown gaze swept over her sister, alighting with the flitting, lilting way of a bird along Nia’s hips, the placement of her knees, the reins gripped in her sister’s hands as though they’d ever keep her on the animal, then back up to Nia’s face. She smiled in return, now satisfied that her sister wasn’t going to slide straight off. That would put an abrupt end to today’s outing.

“S-she’s-s b-beaut-tif-f-ul,” Nenet always found her stutter was amazingly better when she was either alone or in the presence of animals. Perhaps it was the lack of judgement or the fact that the animals didn’t care how long it took her to speak. With Nia here, the stutter was still present but not quite as bad as when Nenet was agitated.
“The person I got her from said she was very fine. Not that I really know how to tell.”
That made Nenet look Nia over again, her expression guarded. Her dark eyes searched Nia’s for any hint of the animosity that was so often there, but she did not find a single bit of it today. Instead, she found only her sister’s honesty and Nenet allowed her smile to lighten her features. It was the warm, easy smile she did not often use. There was never much reason to use it.

”Y-y-you b-bought-t hherr f-forr m-me?” Her hand crept over her heart and her fingers curled into a relaxed fist, as though she was holding the sudden surge of gratitude and surprise she felt. That Nia had actually thought enough of her to buy her something. Not only something but a horse this beautiful! It was hard to put precisely into words what that meant...or didn’t mean. She didn’t know. It was hard to sort exactly what she felt except that she rather glowed.

“I thought she was pretty, anyway. Have you named her yet?”

“W-whatt i-ss th-thee nnnaaaaamme sheee c-c-camme w-with?” She had to bite down and hold some of the words to keep them from stumbling over each other and she blushed hard, not sure if it was worse to listen to stuttering or practically humming words.

“She’s gorgeous, and I know how much you like horses. It hardly seemed right for me to keep her.” Nia’s smooth half truth fooled Nenet completely. She listened to her sister speaking, imagining the scene as though she was standing right there. She pictured Nia wandering around the Souk, probably in the earliest of mornings. Her sister’s clothes would be askew from either a party or from dragging herself from some horrible man’s bed. Her makeup would be smudged and she’d be wandering the Souk on her way home, possibly to grab a bite to eat, since she’d have been too busy the evening before to even consider food. (Nenet had Nia’s entire life sorted in her head as a string of constant trysts). Then, Nia would look over and she’d see this horse being walked across the Souk. The glossy coat shone in the dawning sun, muscles on perfect display and even someone like Nia would know that this was an animal of the rarest quality. That Nia had admired the mare so much to consider her for Nenet was truly heartwarming and Nenet didn’t even spare a snarky thought to who Nia might have been with. All she thought about was Nia gliding over and paying a king’s amount for this animal just to bring her home to her. She felt her face getting warm and rubbed a finger at the corner of her eye, pretending there was dust.

“Obviously, I’m not quite the horsey type.” Nia was saying, smiling.

Nenet smiled in return with a kindly meant, “N-n-no, n-n-not-t r-r-reallllly.”

Nenet’s eyebrows rose when Nia admitted she didn’t know the Mare’s name, nor that she thought it mattered. Huh. That was entirely strange and Nenet’s mouth twisted in thought as her brows came down. She smoothed her hand along the mare’s neck and ‘hmmmm’ed to herself. What moron wouldn’t name a gorgeous creature such as this? But that, of course, prompted other questions. Questions which were interrupted by Nia’s next comment. “I doubt it matters much to her.”

The horse wasn’t offended but Nenet was. Didn’t matter? Of course it mattered! Horses had feelings! They knew their own names, they loved their caretakers! Horses were so much more trustworthy than humans and rather than explain any of this to her sister, who she knew wouldn’t care, Nenet leaned down and wrapped her arms around the Mare’s neck, pressing her face against the horse’s coarse mane. “Sh-she doesn’t un-understand,” she whispered to the mare. Her stutter was either better or non-existent when she spoke with animals and whether that was due to the animal having no judgement or because Nenet herself didn’t notice was hard to determine. And, of course, with no one around to hear, there was no one to tell her.

“Is there anywhere in particular you want to go? I know you go riding far more often than I do. Any favorite spots?” Nia’s question had Nenet raising up to look around.

“Ummmm,” she chewed her bottom lip as she thought. There were so many places they could go…”W-w-we c-c-c-ould r-r-rid-de t-t-t-ooo N-n-nepht-tys’s t-t-tem-m-p-p-ple?” The ride was pleasant and would take them along the Nile, as most did, but they would have a nice ending to their ride. She turned her mare that way, not really waiting for Nia to say yes or no. For once in their relationship, Nenet had the control and she knew that Nia’s horse would probably follow wherever her fellow horse went. Nia’s was the gentlest and also the one who had the least opinion about things which, of course, made her ideal for a beginner. It also meant that Nenet could use the horse to do whatever she wanted. If she wanted them to trot, then Nia’s horse would very likely match pace no matter what Nia did. That wasn’t something Nenet would do, however, unless she felt Nia deserved it. At the moment, Nia was in a good place in her mind, what with this thoughtful gift and all.

“S-s-so h-how o-old-d is-s sh-shee?” she asked conversationally, patting her new mare again. There were so many unknowns about this horse and she was curious.

Nenet stroked her new horse’s mane fondly, smiling to herself as she did so. She watched her fingers slide through the horse’s coarse mane, thinking that with the right applications of soaps, she could condition this hair into a fine glossy river. She imagined herself burying her face in the mare’s mane, getting to know her better than she knew her own family. Horses were simple like that. They didn’t have petty plans for you or plan to marry you off to the first horrible sirdar that came asking.

Nia admitted she wasn’t entirely sure how old this horse was but that didn’t raise flags with Nenet. She didn’t expect Nia to know or think to ask those kinds of questions. But her sister had been pulling out the unexpected today and so she was willing to believe that maybe Nia had thoroughly quizzed the horse seller all about this beautiful animal...but apparently not.

“Not very old, I don’t think? But I guess she’s been trained, so… not very young, either?” Nia floundered and Nenet twisted in her saddle, giving her sister a benevolent, patient smile.

“P-pro-b-baly th-thr-ree or-r s-s-s-o,” she hazarded helpfully. Possibly four. But how well trained remained to be seen. Nenet was not going to set this horse through her paces today. No, they were going on a sweet, sedate ride, with her sweet sister. Well. Mostly sweet. ...sometimes sweet. …………………...why had she bought her a horse??

Nenet frowned, staring ahead as they rode. Nia didn’t buy her things. Nia insulted her and called her names. Yet, here was this over generous gift. Oh gods. Nia had done something. She was pregnant. She needed a secret kept. ...she’d lost Nenet’s favorite BOOK!

“Sorry, I didn’t really ask a lot of questions,” Nia was saying and Nenet blinked.

“Huh?” she hastily tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“It was kind of a snap decision. Besides, I don’t really know what sorts of questions to ask. If you had been there, I’m sure you would have.”

“O-oh. Uh. Y-y-yess. Uh.” She squinted at Nia, thinking but let it go. Being suspicious was exhausting and if this gift wasn’t from the goodness of her sister’s heart, she figured she’d find out soon enough. Facing forward again, they rode quietly along the Nile, saying nothing for a time. Nenet liked this part of the rides. Nothing needed to be said. They could just be. Horse hooves scraping, body swaying in time with the thousand pound beast beneath you, in perfect harmony with nature and gods alike. It was beautiful.

All at once, something skittered in the reeds...and lunged. Nenet saw it out of the corner of her eye. A crocodile easily longer than herself had decided to take a snap, although a half hearted one, at Nia’s horse. This was so unusual that Nenet had never heard of such a thing, and yet here it was. It was as if Sobek himself was taking a bite of Nia, too. But before she could explore that thought further, Nia’s horse leaped forward with her own gliding after.

The world whirred past in an expanse of glittering river and golden sand, interspersed with brown blurs of palms and shadow. “H-hold on!” Nenet called, her stutter much less pronounced now that she wasn’t concentrating on speaking. She didn’t like Nia throwing her arms around the Mare’s neck like that. She could clearly see in her mind’s eye the mare shying at something and Nia being flung straight off. That hold might feel safe now but it was dangerous unless in the correct circumstances, which this was decidedly not.

“S-sit u-up!” Nenet called against the wind but she wasn’t entirely sure her sister would hear her. Growling under her breath but secretly elated, Nenet dug her heels into her new mare’s flanks and practically flew forward. This was like riding wind! Oh it was glorious! She spread out her arms, gripping the horses’s sides with her thighs, lifting her face to the sun. Oh how wondrous. The pleasure of such a smooth gait...she was in no danger of her spine being jarred and her muscles aching from having to fight this animal for some semblance of a nice canter.

Then she became aware of having come up beside Nia. Oh. Right. Yes, she was supposed to be rescuing her sister. She lowered her arms and laughed, reaching out and catching hold of the reins. “Y-you-u-re alr-right-t,” she assured her, pulling her own mare to a more gentle pace and forcing Nia’s to do the same.

On the up side, they were nearer to Nephtys’s temple now. Nenet pointed. “W-we m-mad-de it-t in-n r-r-rec-c-cord-d t-t-t-t-time.” She shrunk in the saddle a little, watching the priestesses and priests going about their business. Looking over at Nia, she nodded. “D-do y-you th-think-k m-m-mayb-b-e I c-c-c-could-d d-d-d-o th-that?” Could she be a priestess? It would certainly save her from Hena’s awful plan.

Nenet wasn’t worried about Nia’s tumble off the horse’s back, not in the least. Falling into sand was almost a delight, honestly. It could have been much worse, of course, falling onto rock or stony ground, or what have you. And really, the mare hadn’t even been in danger of trampling on Nia so, in respect to lucky falls, Nia’s was pleasant. ...Pleasantish. What Nenet was most concerned about was the question she’d posed her sister.

Her large doe eyes rested on the priestesses going about their business - bearing vessels of wine and water, the priests waving long chains of gold which held golden incense bowls. She imagined the life of an acolyte to be both delightful and weary drudgery. But if it was in service to something greater than oneself, was there a nobler calling? Besides, she couldn’t imagine that priestesses were supposed to speak all that much. If she was called upon to do incantations or speeches, she was positive they would be rare and far between. What if...in service to the goddess, Nephthys took compassion on her and got rid of her horrid stutter?

These were the sorts of fantasies that Nenet liked to think on from time to time, but if she was honest with herself, she knew they weren’t realistic. She’d be expected to get up before dawn, to go to sleep after nightfall. Perhaps she’d be the most junior priestess and be expected to sweep the floors and scrub them. What if she had to take out all the chamber pots? Could she deal with dozens of people’s urine and feces? Her nose wrinkled. It wasn’t this life that they should be concerned with though, but the afterlife. If she did well enough here then she would be assured to have a joyous eternity there.

“I’m sure you could,” Nia said from somewhere below her and Nenet looked down at her, a small smile beginning. Did she really think so? Truly? “I didn’t even know that was something you wanted, though,” Nia continued and at that Nenet looked back towards the temples. She toyed with telling her sister the truth - that her desires were real but spurred on by their younger brother and his threats of forcing her to marry someone horrendous. Or at all.

When Nia asked which god Nenet wanted to serve, Nenet nodded towards the temple and replied that she’d like to serve Nephthys, possibly. Nenet felt fairly insignificant and while Nephthys was the goddess of night, she was also the goddess of magic, touching also on death and immorality. Nenet felt that while Hathor would be more obvious, she didn’t actually want to have to lay with people if she did not want to, but that if she wanted to bring her more lascivious books with her to the temple, that the Nephthys priestesses probably wouldn’t mind. She’d thought all this out fairly thoroughly and explained it stutteringly to Nia, trusting her sister a little more with each word she managed to get out, and placing her hopes in Nia’s care the way she wouldn’t have done if not for the horse present.

Once there was a lull, she returned that question to Nia. Would Nia become a priestess? To Hathor, possibly?

If some man on the street had called her beautiful, Nenet would have blushed and hurried onwards. She didn’t like attention from strangers like that. If Sameera told her she was beautiful, she’d have blushed and brushed it off because what else was a friend supposed to say? But coming from Nia, a person Nenet both fought often with, and was a little jealous of, telling her something so nice - warmth flowed through Nenet and she glowed at the praise, though her head still ducked a fraction. So her sister thought her beautiful and not a troll. That was a departure from normal because Nia had called her some pretty horrid things in the past. Not that Nenet hadn’t done the same and possibly worse, on occasion. Sisters fought. It’s just how it was.

The conversation moved on and Nia told Nenet what she expected to hear - no, she wouldn’t be becoming a priestess. No shock there, but Nenet had been curious nonetheless. She listened in silence as Nia sort of stumbled over an answer about serving the gods but not serving the goddess which Nenet smiled slowly at. What Nia meant was she wanted the freedom to turn down men she found ugly, Nenet decided.

“I want to get married one day. Start a family, all that. But not because I have to, you know?” Nia went on and Nenet glanced at her. No...she hadn’t known. Except rather than saying it and having to start a verbal conversation about it, she raised her eyebrows in expectation of her sister to continue, which Nia did verbosely. Nia didn’t want their parents to choose some husband for her, she wanted to choose herself, she didn’t want some old weebly wobbly to totter after her demanding things...Nenet whole heartedly agreed. For some reason, every time she pictured someone that Hena might try to tie her to, she pictured having to say her vows to Osorsen senior and she shuddered at that. But he would be who Hena picked, if for no other reason than to make her miserable. Nenet’s eyes narrowed as she thought of it, only half listening to Nia by then.

She fully caught ”-big of an ask, but apparently it is. Oh, well.” as Nia finished and Nenet widened her eyes and nodded exaggeratedly, agreeing with all of it because she didn’t want to explain that she’d missed that last bit. Or, not the last last but the bit in the middle somewhere. She’d caught the word ‘happy’ and something about nobles...it was fine. Nia didn’t seem to require an actual answer, so, phew.

They’d reached the temple by then anyway and they waited for a servant to grace them with her presence. Nenet looked down at her nails as she waited, turning her hand over and splaying her fingers as she took inventory of the pristine condition of her fingers. At last a servant came and Nenet dismounted with a flourish. But that was the last of any grace she’d display. Once on the ground, she stumbled a little and had to recover rather quickly, hiding it badly by sticking her nose in the air and half closing her eyes like the whole little mishap of knocking into Nia’s horse’s side didn’t happen.

By that time, Nia was in the temple’s doorway and ushering Nenet through. That made the next stumble that much more embarrassing because her sister had just called her beautiful. Rather than gliding elegantly through the doorway, Nenet, in her hurry, caught one foot over the other and danced into the temple. It was the sort of dance with back bent, arms wheeling, kalasiris flowing, all at a rapid speed as the dancer tries not to faceplant.

Worshippers moved out of Nenet’s way and one finally caught her by the arm. They did a sort of slinging move where she whipped around and the man who had her by the arm spun so that they finally came together with almost the same move of bodies pressed together, Nenet’s arm bent at her chest to keep them apart, and their other arms extended, palms facing each other. It was very weird and Nenet mumbled something that might have passed as a thank you to the man. He told her to be careful and not to stop being such a foolish young person. Then he grumbled the entire way out of the temple, muttering about how young women nowadays were so flighty and that she might ought to take care in the house of a god but no, she’d just run about as she pleased.

Nenet sighed and looked to Nia. Her embarrassment was gone now because she didn’t much care what an old commoner codger thought of her, and, he hadn’t seemed to catch the stutter. So, all in all, not too terribly bad. With a growing smile, she gestured deeper into the temple. This way.

Nenet looked around the brightly painted columns and the grand ceiling in awe. Yes, this was where she planned to be spending her days. The goddesses idol was near the center of the temple, presiding over offerings with clouds of holy incense burning around her. They said that if you were a follower of Nephthys, you could perform magic, which Nenet was very interested in. Perhaps...just maybe, she’d learn something to help with her speech.

There was no tour guide that appeared ahead of them. It was mainly Nenet looking around and realizing that she and her sister didn't have anything to sacrifice. They could send a servant back for something...because they could not and should not kneel before a god's statue without something in their hands as a gift. Everyone knew this. 

"W-w-w-w-what-t-t-t  d-d-d-d-d-do  y-y-you-u  th-thin-n-k-k?"

”It’s beautiful,” Nia answered, looking around. Nenet followed her sister’s gaze around the interior of the temple, but inevitably her eyes traveled upward. The ceiling where a network of scalloped tiles outlined in gold made up the expanse of what was no doubt meant to remind one of night. She couldn’t tell quite what the tiles were made of, lapis or agate or a combination, but the color was a deep, rich blue. Turning slowly in place, she followed the tiles where they were broken up every so often by rounded disks of gold that caught the light of the oil lamps burning below. The gold shone and glistened, flickering when someone’s shadow moved briefly against the light.

Dominating the temple’s walls and wide, imposing columns were depictions of Nephthys. They were spells over the temple in the goddess’s name, invoking blessings for those who worshipped her here, for the priests and priestesses who took such diligent care of her likeness. On other walls there were stories of her life, her love, her tragedies and warnings of her wrath when crossed. Set was sometimes pictured with her and Nenet wondered what it must be like to be married to someone so prone to violence and anger.

Movement from her sister caught her eye and she looked to find Nia holding out a golden bracelet to her. Nenet took it and slipped off an onyx ring from her little finger. The band was simple and silver, inset with a small, square stone of deep, polished black. She was loath to part with it but then, she figured, that was the point of a sacrifice. Moving with Nia, she bowed her head and put both the golden bangle and the silver ring at the goddess’s feet.

Once they were standing again and drawing back to make room for other worshipers, Nenet crossed her arms again and turned to Nia as the other spoke. “What was it that interested you in Nephthys in the first place? Not that I can blame you, but I would think Horus would be more your style.”

Nenet smiled tightly and turned towards the door. “S-s-s-spell-ll-lls,” she said. Not only did Nephthys perform rites for the departed souls or see to parts of the night - she was a goddess of spells, too. Where the goddess Isis was light and goodness, Nephthys was something else. Something darker but necessary. Nenet did not add that, predictably, one of the spells she wanted to learn she would attempt to cast on herself or have someone do it for her - to cure her stutter. The other, of course, would be used to curse Akhenaten. That bastard did not deserve the good fortune he’d struck, nor would she allow him to use his power against her.

Nenet looked sweet and her stutter made her seem weak. The delicate framework of her body made her appear fragile but she felt anything except that inside. With constant hounding by her other brother, there was a black hatred for him taking hold...growing more sinister with each slight against her. Every time he threatened her, vowing to make her life miserable, or saying she was worthless; these were things Nenet tucked away and thought on often. They’d see who made who miserable.