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Neena was only aware of the thief, the call of his crime and the ruckus that his chase down caused because it was partially served running through the game that she was playing with the kids further down the street. The boy had run past her only a few seconds before the cries of 'Thief!' had rent the air and the children that Neena had been playing the hoop game with stopped to watch with faces anxious. Perhaps they knew the boy, perhaps they knew what he had done, but there was no way that Neena was going to ask them. Even if they had trusted her quickly enough to welcome her into their game, she was still a stranger. And street kids looked after themselves. That much, Neena remembered.
When the cries of his crime started to bounce around the crowds, however, Neena was looking out and across the spectators as best that she could with her short stature. There were grumbles, the sound of chasing feet and then a scuffle and a groan of fighting and suppression as many of the crowd called out in success.
Nosey by character and curious by nature, Neena stopped the hoop she had been rolling with a simple grab to the rim, returned it to the child she had gotten it from with a murmured thank you and then headed into the crowd herself, winding between the legs and hips of the audience of Egyptians until she reached the opening circle that had formed around the young boy, to the side of the main promenade. Atop the boy was a young man, dressed in a formal uniformed skirt and headpiece. He pinned the boy - for that was all he was by age - to the ground, covering him and his own knees in the yellow grit of the sand beneath.
"Stop." Neena tried to tell them, her years as the wife of a tribal leader coming into play as she tried to make a command that she only remembered belatedly was likely to be ignored. "You're hurting him. Let go of his arm, you have the taken item." Yet she knew that her words would likely fall on deaf ears as an older, haughty looking woman in finery and jewels was made way for in the crowd by her slaves and was able to loudly identify the satchel as her own and the boy its pilferer. For the punishment for thievery in Egypt was the loss of a hand.
"I'm sure it was just a mistake." Neena tried again. "Let him go. He's learnt his lesson."
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Neena was only aware of the thief, the call of his crime and the ruckus that his chase down caused because it was partially served running through the game that she was playing with the kids further down the street. The boy had run past her only a few seconds before the cries of 'Thief!' had rent the air and the children that Neena had been playing the hoop game with stopped to watch with faces anxious. Perhaps they knew the boy, perhaps they knew what he had done, but there was no way that Neena was going to ask them. Even if they had trusted her quickly enough to welcome her into their game, she was still a stranger. And street kids looked after themselves. That much, Neena remembered.
When the cries of his crime started to bounce around the crowds, however, Neena was looking out and across the spectators as best that she could with her short stature. There were grumbles, the sound of chasing feet and then a scuffle and a groan of fighting and suppression as many of the crowd called out in success.
Nosey by character and curious by nature, Neena stopped the hoop she had been rolling with a simple grab to the rim, returned it to the child she had gotten it from with a murmured thank you and then headed into the crowd herself, winding between the legs and hips of the audience of Egyptians until she reached the opening circle that had formed around the young boy, to the side of the main promenade. Atop the boy was a young man, dressed in a formal uniformed skirt and headpiece. He pinned the boy - for that was all he was by age - to the ground, covering him and his own knees in the yellow grit of the sand beneath.
"Stop." Neena tried to tell them, her years as the wife of a tribal leader coming into play as she tried to make a command that she only remembered belatedly was likely to be ignored. "You're hurting him. Let go of his arm, you have the taken item." Yet she knew that her words would likely fall on deaf ears as an older, haughty looking woman in finery and jewels was made way for in the crowd by her slaves and was able to loudly identify the satchel as her own and the boy its pilferer. For the punishment for thievery in Egypt was the loss of a hand.
"I'm sure it was just a mistake." Neena tried again. "Let him go. He's learnt his lesson."
Neena was only aware of the thief, the call of his crime and the ruckus that his chase down caused because it was partially served running through the game that she was playing with the kids further down the street. The boy had run past her only a few seconds before the cries of 'Thief!' had rent the air and the children that Neena had been playing the hoop game with stopped to watch with faces anxious. Perhaps they knew the boy, perhaps they knew what he had done, but there was no way that Neena was going to ask them. Even if they had trusted her quickly enough to welcome her into their game, she was still a stranger. And street kids looked after themselves. That much, Neena remembered.
When the cries of his crime started to bounce around the crowds, however, Neena was looking out and across the spectators as best that she could with her short stature. There were grumbles, the sound of chasing feet and then a scuffle and a groan of fighting and suppression as many of the crowd called out in success.
Nosey by character and curious by nature, Neena stopped the hoop she had been rolling with a simple grab to the rim, returned it to the child she had gotten it from with a murmured thank you and then headed into the crowd herself, winding between the legs and hips of the audience of Egyptians until she reached the opening circle that had formed around the young boy, to the side of the main promenade. Atop the boy was a young man, dressed in a formal uniformed skirt and headpiece. He pinned the boy - for that was all he was by age - to the ground, covering him and his own knees in the yellow grit of the sand beneath.
"Stop." Neena tried to tell them, her years as the wife of a tribal leader coming into play as she tried to make a command that she only remembered belatedly was likely to be ignored. "You're hurting him. Let go of his arm, you have the taken item." Yet she knew that her words would likely fall on deaf ears as an older, haughty looking woman in finery and jewels was made way for in the crowd by her slaves and was able to loudly identify the satchel as her own and the boy its pilferer. For the punishment for thievery in Egypt was the loss of a hand.
"I'm sure it was just a mistake." Neena tried again. "Let him go. He's learnt his lesson."
If Nafretiri felt a little safer in crowds in general, she was even more likely to feel that way when it was a crowd of her sister priestesses.That being said, she stiffened in fear every time she thought she saw a man who might look like the H'Moghadams' steward. She always worried about being spotted during religious ceremonies, and sometimes a temple full of women did not seem like the best defense, even if certain types of men would probably always send shivers up her spine.
It could not be helped, though. The temples might have been the best refuge she could have hoped for at the time. While, due to her previous circumstances, Hathor would not have been the goddess she would choose to serve, she had seemed the kindest of them, and then there was the argument that fertility didn't necessarily always have to refer to sexual intercourse. It could mean good crops as well.
And so, two years later, here she was, at the festival of Opet.
As the crowd moved along, however, mention of a thief caused her to freeze in her tracks. Gods forbid such a person want more than wealth....
By the time she had almost caught up with her sister priestesses, Nafretiri had noticed the girl, who at least appeared to Nafretiri to be a little further away from most of the royal entourage, a little away from the litters carrying the king and queen.
She knew from experience that most slaves, at least, might try to appear unassuming, but the girl's jewelry, fine enough to mark her as someone who served the Paraoh, made her stand out at least a little, the lapis lazuli beads accentuating her curly hair beautifully. Nafretiri was well aware that she was probably openly staring, but she couldn't seem to help herself. The girl's complexion was darker than hers, but those curls and those eyes made Nafretiri think that she might potentially be looking at a sibling or cousin!
That's unusual, she thought to herself, barely managing to snap her mouth closed before Aneksi, running up with some other children to give her own token of affection to the royals since everyone was welcome on this day, said, "Amma, no!"
She knew what her daughter meant. As kindly and simply as she knew how, Nafretiri had told Aneksi often that it was not polite to stare at people.
But, struggling to keep her mind from dwelling on the thief- who did indeed seem to be trying to make some sort of escape- Nafretiri thought it was far safer to stare at the girl than to let herself be overcome by her own fear for what seemed the thousandth time in her life since coming to Egypt.
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If Nafretiri felt a little safer in crowds in general, she was even more likely to feel that way when it was a crowd of her sister priestesses.That being said, she stiffened in fear every time she thought she saw a man who might look like the H'Moghadams' steward. She always worried about being spotted during religious ceremonies, and sometimes a temple full of women did not seem like the best defense, even if certain types of men would probably always send shivers up her spine.
It could not be helped, though. The temples might have been the best refuge she could have hoped for at the time. While, due to her previous circumstances, Hathor would not have been the goddess she would choose to serve, she had seemed the kindest of them, and then there was the argument that fertility didn't necessarily always have to refer to sexual intercourse. It could mean good crops as well.
And so, two years later, here she was, at the festival of Opet.
As the crowd moved along, however, mention of a thief caused her to freeze in her tracks. Gods forbid such a person want more than wealth....
By the time she had almost caught up with her sister priestesses, Nafretiri had noticed the girl, who at least appeared to Nafretiri to be a little further away from most of the royal entourage, a little away from the litters carrying the king and queen.
She knew from experience that most slaves, at least, might try to appear unassuming, but the girl's jewelry, fine enough to mark her as someone who served the Paraoh, made her stand out at least a little, the lapis lazuli beads accentuating her curly hair beautifully. Nafretiri was well aware that she was probably openly staring, but she couldn't seem to help herself. The girl's complexion was darker than hers, but those curls and those eyes made Nafretiri think that she might potentially be looking at a sibling or cousin!
That's unusual, she thought to herself, barely managing to snap her mouth closed before Aneksi, running up with some other children to give her own token of affection to the royals since everyone was welcome on this day, said, "Amma, no!"
She knew what her daughter meant. As kindly and simply as she knew how, Nafretiri had told Aneksi often that it was not polite to stare at people.
But, struggling to keep her mind from dwelling on the thief- who did indeed seem to be trying to make some sort of escape- Nafretiri thought it was far safer to stare at the girl than to let herself be overcome by her own fear for what seemed the thousandth time in her life since coming to Egypt.
If Nafretiri felt a little safer in crowds in general, she was even more likely to feel that way when it was a crowd of her sister priestesses.That being said, she stiffened in fear every time she thought she saw a man who might look like the H'Moghadams' steward. She always worried about being spotted during religious ceremonies, and sometimes a temple full of women did not seem like the best defense, even if certain types of men would probably always send shivers up her spine.
It could not be helped, though. The temples might have been the best refuge she could have hoped for at the time. While, due to her previous circumstances, Hathor would not have been the goddess she would choose to serve, she had seemed the kindest of them, and then there was the argument that fertility didn't necessarily always have to refer to sexual intercourse. It could mean good crops as well.
And so, two years later, here she was, at the festival of Opet.
As the crowd moved along, however, mention of a thief caused her to freeze in her tracks. Gods forbid such a person want more than wealth....
By the time she had almost caught up with her sister priestesses, Nafretiri had noticed the girl, who at least appeared to Nafretiri to be a little further away from most of the royal entourage, a little away from the litters carrying the king and queen.
She knew from experience that most slaves, at least, might try to appear unassuming, but the girl's jewelry, fine enough to mark her as someone who served the Paraoh, made her stand out at least a little, the lapis lazuli beads accentuating her curly hair beautifully. Nafretiri was well aware that she was probably openly staring, but she couldn't seem to help herself. The girl's complexion was darker than hers, but those curls and those eyes made Nafretiri think that she might potentially be looking at a sibling or cousin!
That's unusual, she thought to herself, barely managing to snap her mouth closed before Aneksi, running up with some other children to give her own token of affection to the royals since everyone was welcome on this day, said, "Amma, no!"
She knew what her daughter meant. As kindly and simply as she knew how, Nafretiri had told Aneksi often that it was not polite to stare at people.
But, struggling to keep her mind from dwelling on the thief- who did indeed seem to be trying to make some sort of escape- Nafretiri thought it was far safer to stare at the girl than to let herself be overcome by her own fear for what seemed the thousandth time in her life since coming to Egypt.
While she was no stranger to festivals and celebrations, this was a first to be so close to the action. It made Safiya wonder about a lot of things, was she wearing the right clothes for instance? She had selected colours that would match and compliment the queen, not outshine because while it could be an option, the last thing that she wanted to do act in a fashion that might give the queen cause to question what was going on here.
Safiya took a deep breath though, she hadn't been sure about whether she would become seasick but mercifully it hadn't come to pass. Something that she would have to own to and be teased about by her sister; she'd told her that there was not going to be a problem but Safiya had still worried about throwing up and looking anything other poised during the event "...it's all so grand" she admitted, not sure that she should be speaking. The rule and complex elements of protocol and confused her from the very beginning, even her early teachers had despaired of her mastering it.
Just because she was not a handmaid didn't change the core of her personality and the method of her own learning. Such as it was.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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While she was no stranger to festivals and celebrations, this was a first to be so close to the action. It made Safiya wonder about a lot of things, was she wearing the right clothes for instance? She had selected colours that would match and compliment the queen, not outshine because while it could be an option, the last thing that she wanted to do act in a fashion that might give the queen cause to question what was going on here.
Safiya took a deep breath though, she hadn't been sure about whether she would become seasick but mercifully it hadn't come to pass. Something that she would have to own to and be teased about by her sister; she'd told her that there was not going to be a problem but Safiya had still worried about throwing up and looking anything other poised during the event "...it's all so grand" she admitted, not sure that she should be speaking. The rule and complex elements of protocol and confused her from the very beginning, even her early teachers had despaired of her mastering it.
Just because she was not a handmaid didn't change the core of her personality and the method of her own learning. Such as it was.
While she was no stranger to festivals and celebrations, this was a first to be so close to the action. It made Safiya wonder about a lot of things, was she wearing the right clothes for instance? She had selected colours that would match and compliment the queen, not outshine because while it could be an option, the last thing that she wanted to do act in a fashion that might give the queen cause to question what was going on here.
Safiya took a deep breath though, she hadn't been sure about whether she would become seasick but mercifully it hadn't come to pass. Something that she would have to own to and be teased about by her sister; she'd told her that there was not going to be a problem but Safiya had still worried about throwing up and looking anything other poised during the event "...it's all so grand" she admitted, not sure that she should be speaking. The rule and complex elements of protocol and confused her from the very beginning, even her early teachers had despaired of her mastering it.
Just because she was not a handmaid didn't change the core of her personality and the method of her own learning. Such as it was.
What had been a perfectly joyous and colorful celebration was disrupted when a sudden and loud call that took a moment to process in Kreios's head, before the Grecian finally identified it as a thief who had made the juncture in the procession. His question never did get answered by the tall, beautiful Egyptian sirdsett he had been conversing with, because all of a sudden, it seemed as if all attention was riveted upon the thief now dashing through the throngs of people, in a panic now that he has been discovered.
It was obvious from where Kreios stood a distance away from the crowd, at least, that some people were pursuit if he were to judge from the amount of people running. By his heels, Typhon's ears were on alert, the hound padding his feet on all fours, eager to go and join the chase, but Kreios quickly hushed the hound with a hand upon his neck. He wanted to allow chase, but neither did he wish to be caught in the midst of a fight if his canine accidentally took a life, so in foreign lands, Kreios would rather not risk it.
Instead, the man merely watched as a scruffy looking male obviously not of nobility managed to tackle the thief, a gasp going up from the surrounding crowd as a finer looking man Kreios assumed to be one of nobility finally approached the now apprehended thief. He had merely intended to watch the proceedings, but when he watched who he supposed... well, 'charge' would be a weird word to use, but he couldn't think of anything else, so when he watched his charge approach the situation, the man gave a deep seated groan, but made his excuses to the sirdsett, before clicking his tongue for Typhon to follow him as he made his way to the area.
Joining the crowd there felt odd, considering he was very obviously the odd one out in a crowd made up of Egyptians, especially those who did not take too kindly to Grecian's. As a merchant however, he did know a few of them who had been his patrons before, and did a quick nod here and there to acknowledge his clients, before hissing at Neena once he got within auditory range. "Don't mess with the laws and actions of those in their homeland Neena. Even I can't get you out of a mess if you do." Kreios warned, his eyes still wary upon the gathered Egyptians as their cries for appropriate punishment for the thief grew louder.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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What had been a perfectly joyous and colorful celebration was disrupted when a sudden and loud call that took a moment to process in Kreios's head, before the Grecian finally identified it as a thief who had made the juncture in the procession. His question never did get answered by the tall, beautiful Egyptian sirdsett he had been conversing with, because all of a sudden, it seemed as if all attention was riveted upon the thief now dashing through the throngs of people, in a panic now that he has been discovered.
It was obvious from where Kreios stood a distance away from the crowd, at least, that some people were pursuit if he were to judge from the amount of people running. By his heels, Typhon's ears were on alert, the hound padding his feet on all fours, eager to go and join the chase, but Kreios quickly hushed the hound with a hand upon his neck. He wanted to allow chase, but neither did he wish to be caught in the midst of a fight if his canine accidentally took a life, so in foreign lands, Kreios would rather not risk it.
Instead, the man merely watched as a scruffy looking male obviously not of nobility managed to tackle the thief, a gasp going up from the surrounding crowd as a finer looking man Kreios assumed to be one of nobility finally approached the now apprehended thief. He had merely intended to watch the proceedings, but when he watched who he supposed... well, 'charge' would be a weird word to use, but he couldn't think of anything else, so when he watched his charge approach the situation, the man gave a deep seated groan, but made his excuses to the sirdsett, before clicking his tongue for Typhon to follow him as he made his way to the area.
Joining the crowd there felt odd, considering he was very obviously the odd one out in a crowd made up of Egyptians, especially those who did not take too kindly to Grecian's. As a merchant however, he did know a few of them who had been his patrons before, and did a quick nod here and there to acknowledge his clients, before hissing at Neena once he got within auditory range. "Don't mess with the laws and actions of those in their homeland Neena. Even I can't get you out of a mess if you do." Kreios warned, his eyes still wary upon the gathered Egyptians as their cries for appropriate punishment for the thief grew louder.
What had been a perfectly joyous and colorful celebration was disrupted when a sudden and loud call that took a moment to process in Kreios's head, before the Grecian finally identified it as a thief who had made the juncture in the procession. His question never did get answered by the tall, beautiful Egyptian sirdsett he had been conversing with, because all of a sudden, it seemed as if all attention was riveted upon the thief now dashing through the throngs of people, in a panic now that he has been discovered.
It was obvious from where Kreios stood a distance away from the crowd, at least, that some people were pursuit if he were to judge from the amount of people running. By his heels, Typhon's ears were on alert, the hound padding his feet on all fours, eager to go and join the chase, but Kreios quickly hushed the hound with a hand upon his neck. He wanted to allow chase, but neither did he wish to be caught in the midst of a fight if his canine accidentally took a life, so in foreign lands, Kreios would rather not risk it.
Instead, the man merely watched as a scruffy looking male obviously not of nobility managed to tackle the thief, a gasp going up from the surrounding crowd as a finer looking man Kreios assumed to be one of nobility finally approached the now apprehended thief. He had merely intended to watch the proceedings, but when he watched who he supposed... well, 'charge' would be a weird word to use, but he couldn't think of anything else, so when he watched his charge approach the situation, the man gave a deep seated groan, but made his excuses to the sirdsett, before clicking his tongue for Typhon to follow him as he made his way to the area.
Joining the crowd there felt odd, considering he was very obviously the odd one out in a crowd made up of Egyptians, especially those who did not take too kindly to Grecian's. As a merchant however, he did know a few of them who had been his patrons before, and did a quick nod here and there to acknowledge his clients, before hissing at Neena once he got within auditory range. "Don't mess with the laws and actions of those in their homeland Neena. Even I can't get you out of a mess if you do." Kreios warned, his eyes still wary upon the gathered Egyptians as their cries for appropriate punishment for the thief grew louder.
Hena raised an eyebrow as someone dared to say that the thief had learned his lesson and should be let go. He vaguely recognized the woman, and then it clicked where he had seen her before. Just a few short months ago she had joined his group during their celebration of the new year. If he remembered correctly, she had been rather entertaining.
Akhenaten said nothing as the crowd seemed to wait with baited breath for his decision on what his slave would do with the boy. He had been the one who had caught the thief, so it seemed to be up to him what would be done. First he saw the purse wordlessly returned to the woman it belonged to. With a slight bow and a charming smile, she took her stolen purse back and stepped back, calling for the boy’s punishment as many others around him did.
Then his attentions turned to the foreign woman who he had met once before, under much friendlier and much less sober conditions. His brown eyes locked on hers, reading her gaze for quite some time before he looked away, his decision made, he opened his mouth to voice it.
“Take him. See to it that his hand is removed, and in the action, a lesson is learned.” He said, his voice unwavering and steady as he gave the command that would so greatly affect the boys life. He should have thought of the consequences before he attempted to steal, especially in such a public place.
His slave moved to stand up, yanking the boy up with him as the young boy screamed and cried and begged, illiciting a scoff from Hena. He motioned to his other male slave.
“You. Help him.” He said, and the man hurried over to help restrain the boy as they took him to the side to see his punishment given away from the crowds so no one would need to watch if they did not wish to, and no blood would be spilled upon the citizens.
“The thief will be appropriately punished! Let this serve warning to him and any others who would see possessions removed from their true owners!” He declared, earning cheers from the crowd, satisfied that the Lord had seen to swift justice for the theft.
“Come, let us return to celebration! No need to let a thief ruin the fun!” He declared, earning even louder cheers. He grinned and turned, intending to return to the wine and shade that awaited him back over out of the crowd. At least that had been a bit of entertainment for the young Lord. He would see to it that his slave was rewarded for being able to capture and punish the boy. An extra bit of food that night ought to reinforce his actions. Hena wasn’t completely awful to his slaves, at least not all the time. The slave had after all caught the boy when many others who had been pursuing him had been unable to do so.
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Hena raised an eyebrow as someone dared to say that the thief had learned his lesson and should be let go. He vaguely recognized the woman, and then it clicked where he had seen her before. Just a few short months ago she had joined his group during their celebration of the new year. If he remembered correctly, she had been rather entertaining.
Akhenaten said nothing as the crowd seemed to wait with baited breath for his decision on what his slave would do with the boy. He had been the one who had caught the thief, so it seemed to be up to him what would be done. First he saw the purse wordlessly returned to the woman it belonged to. With a slight bow and a charming smile, she took her stolen purse back and stepped back, calling for the boy’s punishment as many others around him did.
Then his attentions turned to the foreign woman who he had met once before, under much friendlier and much less sober conditions. His brown eyes locked on hers, reading her gaze for quite some time before he looked away, his decision made, he opened his mouth to voice it.
“Take him. See to it that his hand is removed, and in the action, a lesson is learned.” He said, his voice unwavering and steady as he gave the command that would so greatly affect the boys life. He should have thought of the consequences before he attempted to steal, especially in such a public place.
His slave moved to stand up, yanking the boy up with him as the young boy screamed and cried and begged, illiciting a scoff from Hena. He motioned to his other male slave.
“You. Help him.” He said, and the man hurried over to help restrain the boy as they took him to the side to see his punishment given away from the crowds so no one would need to watch if they did not wish to, and no blood would be spilled upon the citizens.
“The thief will be appropriately punished! Let this serve warning to him and any others who would see possessions removed from their true owners!” He declared, earning cheers from the crowd, satisfied that the Lord had seen to swift justice for the theft.
“Come, let us return to celebration! No need to let a thief ruin the fun!” He declared, earning even louder cheers. He grinned and turned, intending to return to the wine and shade that awaited him back over out of the crowd. At least that had been a bit of entertainment for the young Lord. He would see to it that his slave was rewarded for being able to capture and punish the boy. An extra bit of food that night ought to reinforce his actions. Hena wasn’t completely awful to his slaves, at least not all the time. The slave had after all caught the boy when many others who had been pursuing him had been unable to do so.
Hena raised an eyebrow as someone dared to say that the thief had learned his lesson and should be let go. He vaguely recognized the woman, and then it clicked where he had seen her before. Just a few short months ago she had joined his group during their celebration of the new year. If he remembered correctly, she had been rather entertaining.
Akhenaten said nothing as the crowd seemed to wait with baited breath for his decision on what his slave would do with the boy. He had been the one who had caught the thief, so it seemed to be up to him what would be done. First he saw the purse wordlessly returned to the woman it belonged to. With a slight bow and a charming smile, she took her stolen purse back and stepped back, calling for the boy’s punishment as many others around him did.
Then his attentions turned to the foreign woman who he had met once before, under much friendlier and much less sober conditions. His brown eyes locked on hers, reading her gaze for quite some time before he looked away, his decision made, he opened his mouth to voice it.
“Take him. See to it that his hand is removed, and in the action, a lesson is learned.” He said, his voice unwavering and steady as he gave the command that would so greatly affect the boys life. He should have thought of the consequences before he attempted to steal, especially in such a public place.
His slave moved to stand up, yanking the boy up with him as the young boy screamed and cried and begged, illiciting a scoff from Hena. He motioned to his other male slave.
“You. Help him.” He said, and the man hurried over to help restrain the boy as they took him to the side to see his punishment given away from the crowds so no one would need to watch if they did not wish to, and no blood would be spilled upon the citizens.
“The thief will be appropriately punished! Let this serve warning to him and any others who would see possessions removed from their true owners!” He declared, earning cheers from the crowd, satisfied that the Lord had seen to swift justice for the theft.
“Come, let us return to celebration! No need to let a thief ruin the fun!” He declared, earning even louder cheers. He grinned and turned, intending to return to the wine and shade that awaited him back over out of the crowd. At least that had been a bit of entertainment for the young Lord. He would see to it that his slave was rewarded for being able to capture and punish the boy. An extra bit of food that night ought to reinforce his actions. Hena wasn’t completely awful to his slaves, at least not all the time. The slave had after all caught the boy when many others who had been pursuing him had been unable to do so.
Although Nafretiri hadn't become a woman- biologically- until sixteen, she was well aware that at home, the boy was probably of the age to be considered a man. Therefore she was not quite so shocked as she might have been if the thief had been a child. But she was still grateful not to have to watch the boy receive his punishment. At home, in Israel, it seemed the community had to be present at every...punishment. Well, there wasone exception where a good Jew was most likely not to have to see, and that one was carried out outside the city- or camp- limits.
"Cursed is any man who hangs on a tree...." She shivered at the thought. She knew she really ought to thank the man for not subjecting the crowd to the boy's agony. With a courage she only felt because of the crowd she was in the middle of, she approached because it seemed the polite thing to do to offer thanks.
"Thank you, sir. While I understand that thieves must be punished- and the sooner the better- back home, the crowd would have been advised to watch. Punishments themselves- not just their results- were a warning to the community at large. And always, but particularly on such a festive day as this one, thievery is an offense to the gods, as we know."
While she knew that some nobles committed acts of thievery in secret, and often got away with them, and moreover that her comment would most likely mark her as a foreigner- not just a Polykemetic religious adherent- she didn't need him to know that she knew these things.
Still, some part of her was satisfied that maybe the gods would reward the nobleman for what to her seemed an act of kindness. Saying so felt to her like a personal victory, a return, somewhat, to the braver person she had been. And as she moved to rejoin her sister priestesses, somehow she felt that she was standing a little taller than before, at least a little aware, even within herself, of the personal act of courage that her speaking to someone in public- and a man at that- felt like. As she caught the man's comment that there was no need to let a thief ruin the fun of the celebration, she realized that perhaps he was right. Maybe, just today, just for now, there was indeed a celebration to be had- just not only the religious one, at least for Nafretiri.
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Although Nafretiri hadn't become a woman- biologically- until sixteen, she was well aware that at home, the boy was probably of the age to be considered a man. Therefore she was not quite so shocked as she might have been if the thief had been a child. But she was still grateful not to have to watch the boy receive his punishment. At home, in Israel, it seemed the community had to be present at every...punishment. Well, there wasone exception where a good Jew was most likely not to have to see, and that one was carried out outside the city- or camp- limits.
"Cursed is any man who hangs on a tree...." She shivered at the thought. She knew she really ought to thank the man for not subjecting the crowd to the boy's agony. With a courage she only felt because of the crowd she was in the middle of, she approached because it seemed the polite thing to do to offer thanks.
"Thank you, sir. While I understand that thieves must be punished- and the sooner the better- back home, the crowd would have been advised to watch. Punishments themselves- not just their results- were a warning to the community at large. And always, but particularly on such a festive day as this one, thievery is an offense to the gods, as we know."
While she knew that some nobles committed acts of thievery in secret, and often got away with them, and moreover that her comment would most likely mark her as a foreigner- not just a Polykemetic religious adherent- she didn't need him to know that she knew these things.
Still, some part of her was satisfied that maybe the gods would reward the nobleman for what to her seemed an act of kindness. Saying so felt to her like a personal victory, a return, somewhat, to the braver person she had been. And as she moved to rejoin her sister priestesses, somehow she felt that she was standing a little taller than before, at least a little aware, even within herself, of the personal act of courage that her speaking to someone in public- and a man at that- felt like. As she caught the man's comment that there was no need to let a thief ruin the fun of the celebration, she realized that perhaps he was right. Maybe, just today, just for now, there was indeed a celebration to be had- just not only the religious one, at least for Nafretiri.
Although Nafretiri hadn't become a woman- biologically- until sixteen, she was well aware that at home, the boy was probably of the age to be considered a man. Therefore she was not quite so shocked as she might have been if the thief had been a child. But she was still grateful not to have to watch the boy receive his punishment. At home, in Israel, it seemed the community had to be present at every...punishment. Well, there wasone exception where a good Jew was most likely not to have to see, and that one was carried out outside the city- or camp- limits.
"Cursed is any man who hangs on a tree...." She shivered at the thought. She knew she really ought to thank the man for not subjecting the crowd to the boy's agony. With a courage she only felt because of the crowd she was in the middle of, she approached because it seemed the polite thing to do to offer thanks.
"Thank you, sir. While I understand that thieves must be punished- and the sooner the better- back home, the crowd would have been advised to watch. Punishments themselves- not just their results- were a warning to the community at large. And always, but particularly on such a festive day as this one, thievery is an offense to the gods, as we know."
While she knew that some nobles committed acts of thievery in secret, and often got away with them, and moreover that her comment would most likely mark her as a foreigner- not just a Polykemetic religious adherent- she didn't need him to know that she knew these things.
Still, some part of her was satisfied that maybe the gods would reward the nobleman for what to her seemed an act of kindness. Saying so felt to her like a personal victory, a return, somewhat, to the braver person she had been. And as she moved to rejoin her sister priestesses, somehow she felt that she was standing a little taller than before, at least a little aware, even within herself, of the personal act of courage that her speaking to someone in public- and a man at that- felt like. As she caught the man's comment that there was no need to let a thief ruin the fun of the celebration, she realized that perhaps he was right. Maybe, just today, just for now, there was indeed a celebration to be had- just not only the religious one, at least for Nafretiri.
Neena very rarely was the sort of person to become angered by the misfortunes of others. Normally, she accepted life as it went by her, swirling in a temporal shift of colour and shape. She knew that different nations held different laws, that they celebrated different cultures. And normally she was one to simply step backwards and permit it to happen. She, a single woman in a world of many, would not be able to change the mind of a nation. It was how she had witnessed the executions of those who loved the same sex as themselves in Judea. It was how she had walked away from beheadings for adultery. She was of the opinion that you could not appreciate the diversity of the world without also accepting the differences.
But this particular instance was one that struck at her heart. Partially because it was one so reminiscent of her own life and the manner in which she had been caught stealing in Bedoa. She had been given the option between the loss of a hand and slavery. Seeing that same punishment being carried out before her struck a more personal chord within her own spirit and spurred her to action.
Secondly, and more importantly, if she were to save the boy and his hand, it wasn't because she would be changing the opinion of a nation - for that was impossible - but she had simply to change the choice of one man. A man she already knew and had gotten drunk with just a few months previous.
"Wait!" Neena tried to say, ignoring Kreios' warnings in her ear and shrugging away from his close contact as she stomped between the people of the crowd, headed for the Egyptian nobleman who had given the order to have the boy's hand removed. He had looked her dead in the eye and issued the punishment!
"Wait, how is he supposed to-" her words were swallowed by the bodies or people stepping into her way as the crowds turned back to their celebrations. She had been about to say - how is he supposed to earn money and sustain himself in a manner that would make it unnecessary for him to steal if he only had one hand? By making his life harder to secure funds, he was more likely to steal in order to feed himself!
Neena struggled forward in the crowd, clearly unwilling to let the matter rest, despite her small frame being blocked at every turn by the rising cheer and excitement of the Egyptian celebrations.
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Neena very rarely was the sort of person to become angered by the misfortunes of others. Normally, she accepted life as it went by her, swirling in a temporal shift of colour and shape. She knew that different nations held different laws, that they celebrated different cultures. And normally she was one to simply step backwards and permit it to happen. She, a single woman in a world of many, would not be able to change the mind of a nation. It was how she had witnessed the executions of those who loved the same sex as themselves in Judea. It was how she had walked away from beheadings for adultery. She was of the opinion that you could not appreciate the diversity of the world without also accepting the differences.
But this particular instance was one that struck at her heart. Partially because it was one so reminiscent of her own life and the manner in which she had been caught stealing in Bedoa. She had been given the option between the loss of a hand and slavery. Seeing that same punishment being carried out before her struck a more personal chord within her own spirit and spurred her to action.
Secondly, and more importantly, if she were to save the boy and his hand, it wasn't because she would be changing the opinion of a nation - for that was impossible - but she had simply to change the choice of one man. A man she already knew and had gotten drunk with just a few months previous.
"Wait!" Neena tried to say, ignoring Kreios' warnings in her ear and shrugging away from his close contact as she stomped between the people of the crowd, headed for the Egyptian nobleman who had given the order to have the boy's hand removed. He had looked her dead in the eye and issued the punishment!
"Wait, how is he supposed to-" her words were swallowed by the bodies or people stepping into her way as the crowds turned back to their celebrations. She had been about to say - how is he supposed to earn money and sustain himself in a manner that would make it unnecessary for him to steal if he only had one hand? By making his life harder to secure funds, he was more likely to steal in order to feed himself!
Neena struggled forward in the crowd, clearly unwilling to let the matter rest, despite her small frame being blocked at every turn by the rising cheer and excitement of the Egyptian celebrations.
Neena very rarely was the sort of person to become angered by the misfortunes of others. Normally, she accepted life as it went by her, swirling in a temporal shift of colour and shape. She knew that different nations held different laws, that they celebrated different cultures. And normally she was one to simply step backwards and permit it to happen. She, a single woman in a world of many, would not be able to change the mind of a nation. It was how she had witnessed the executions of those who loved the same sex as themselves in Judea. It was how she had walked away from beheadings for adultery. She was of the opinion that you could not appreciate the diversity of the world without also accepting the differences.
But this particular instance was one that struck at her heart. Partially because it was one so reminiscent of her own life and the manner in which she had been caught stealing in Bedoa. She had been given the option between the loss of a hand and slavery. Seeing that same punishment being carried out before her struck a more personal chord within her own spirit and spurred her to action.
Secondly, and more importantly, if she were to save the boy and his hand, it wasn't because she would be changing the opinion of a nation - for that was impossible - but she had simply to change the choice of one man. A man she already knew and had gotten drunk with just a few months previous.
"Wait!" Neena tried to say, ignoring Kreios' warnings in her ear and shrugging away from his close contact as she stomped between the people of the crowd, headed for the Egyptian nobleman who had given the order to have the boy's hand removed. He had looked her dead in the eye and issued the punishment!
"Wait, how is he supposed to-" her words were swallowed by the bodies or people stepping into her way as the crowds turned back to their celebrations. She had been about to say - how is he supposed to earn money and sustain himself in a manner that would make it unnecessary for him to steal if he only had one hand? By making his life harder to secure funds, he was more likely to steal in order to feed himself!
Neena struggled forward in the crowd, clearly unwilling to let the matter rest, despite her small frame being blocked at every turn by the rising cheer and excitement of the Egyptian celebrations.
His annoyance was almost palpable when Neena practically ignored what he said, and shrugged away from the hand he had grabbed ahold of her upper arm. FOr one so well travelled, one would think she knew she rules of being in a foreign land? To speak out of turn or to try and bend the rules of another culture was unheard of and dangerous, and she would get her own eyes gouged out and her tongue cut if she continued.
Irritation surfaced in the form of a growl as she tried to dart through the people of the crowd, but it was obvious that the Egyptians had their own laws to follow, and was not about to heed the words of a small Bedoan - thank the Gods for that.
Cursing lowly under his breathe as the order rang clear and true and was met with strong shouts of approval from the remaining Egyptians gathered. The barbarians would see to it that the punishment became a spectacle, but Kreios did not intend to stick around and watch. Instead the man quickly followed Neena's movements, and grabbed her despite her struggling. Her form was small albeit lithe, but Kreios took advantage of her distraction in her desperation to act the hero, and scooped her up by the waist.
Hauling her over his shoulder like one would do to a sack of rice, Kreios ignored her protests and whistled at Typhon, walking off once the hound padded slowly by his heels to emerge from the squalling crowd following the prosecutor who would inflict upon the captured thief. It was a chilling punishment, but one that was necessary - Kreios did not interfere in the laws and culture of another land. "Unless you wish to have your hand join his, do not try and return. The laws of others is not something we can infringe upon." he muttered as he hauled her further and further away from the crowds gathering for the celebrations, intending to bring her all the way back to the ship. Afterall, he only intended it to be a short jaunt, and seeing as he was the owner of the ship, he now intended the jaunt to be over.
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His annoyance was almost palpable when Neena practically ignored what he said, and shrugged away from the hand he had grabbed ahold of her upper arm. FOr one so well travelled, one would think she knew she rules of being in a foreign land? To speak out of turn or to try and bend the rules of another culture was unheard of and dangerous, and she would get her own eyes gouged out and her tongue cut if she continued.
Irritation surfaced in the form of a growl as she tried to dart through the people of the crowd, but it was obvious that the Egyptians had their own laws to follow, and was not about to heed the words of a small Bedoan - thank the Gods for that.
Cursing lowly under his breathe as the order rang clear and true and was met with strong shouts of approval from the remaining Egyptians gathered. The barbarians would see to it that the punishment became a spectacle, but Kreios did not intend to stick around and watch. Instead the man quickly followed Neena's movements, and grabbed her despite her struggling. Her form was small albeit lithe, but Kreios took advantage of her distraction in her desperation to act the hero, and scooped her up by the waist.
Hauling her over his shoulder like one would do to a sack of rice, Kreios ignored her protests and whistled at Typhon, walking off once the hound padded slowly by his heels to emerge from the squalling crowd following the prosecutor who would inflict upon the captured thief. It was a chilling punishment, but one that was necessary - Kreios did not interfere in the laws and culture of another land. "Unless you wish to have your hand join his, do not try and return. The laws of others is not something we can infringe upon." he muttered as he hauled her further and further away from the crowds gathering for the celebrations, intending to bring her all the way back to the ship. Afterall, he only intended it to be a short jaunt, and seeing as he was the owner of the ship, he now intended the jaunt to be over.
His annoyance was almost palpable when Neena practically ignored what he said, and shrugged away from the hand he had grabbed ahold of her upper arm. FOr one so well travelled, one would think she knew she rules of being in a foreign land? To speak out of turn or to try and bend the rules of another culture was unheard of and dangerous, and she would get her own eyes gouged out and her tongue cut if she continued.
Irritation surfaced in the form of a growl as she tried to dart through the people of the crowd, but it was obvious that the Egyptians had their own laws to follow, and was not about to heed the words of a small Bedoan - thank the Gods for that.
Cursing lowly under his breathe as the order rang clear and true and was met with strong shouts of approval from the remaining Egyptians gathered. The barbarians would see to it that the punishment became a spectacle, but Kreios did not intend to stick around and watch. Instead the man quickly followed Neena's movements, and grabbed her despite her struggling. Her form was small albeit lithe, but Kreios took advantage of her distraction in her desperation to act the hero, and scooped her up by the waist.
Hauling her over his shoulder like one would do to a sack of rice, Kreios ignored her protests and whistled at Typhon, walking off once the hound padded slowly by his heels to emerge from the squalling crowd following the prosecutor who would inflict upon the captured thief. It was a chilling punishment, but one that was necessary - Kreios did not interfere in the laws and culture of another land. "Unless you wish to have your hand join his, do not try and return. The laws of others is not something we can infringe upon." he muttered as he hauled her further and further away from the crowds gathering for the celebrations, intending to bring her all the way back to the ship. Afterall, he only intended it to be a short jaunt, and seeing as he was the owner of the ship, he now intended the jaunt to be over.
Hena hadn’t expected it as a woman stepped forward from the crowd and thanked him for not subjecting the crowd to having to watch the boy’s punishment.
“No need to get blood on anyone’s clothes.” He replied simply, watching as the woman disappeared among the crowd once more before he had his announcement that the celebrations should continue. He was feeling confident about his decision for the thief.
Akhenaten heard Neena calling after him in protest as he walked away, had heard her tone and her words, and yet he continued on his path, back towards his own lavish set up where he could sit and be comfortable and drink wine that was likely worth more than the thieving boy had ever seen in his life. Such was the way of the world. Akhenaten was a noble, a Lord of a rich family, he had the joys of nobleblood, and commoners lived their lives as commoners did. If they chose to stoop to thievery, they would face punishment when caught.
He made it back to his area, and one of his slaves had a cup of wine ready for him, he took it and wandered over towards where his male slaves had taken the boy, intent on watching his punishment be doled out. Hena wasn’t one to cringe away from blood, at least not when it came to things like this. A common boy, a no-good thief, watching his hand be removed would be a fun spectacle for the day. Perhaps more interesting than watching the crowds as they celebrated.
He looked around for a moment, seeing no glimpse of Neena who had been so adamant in changing his mind. He was a little surprised she wasn’t there to try her best to stop the punishment still. Had she given up so easily? Hena didn’t know her well, but he could see the fire in her, and he had fully expected her to run in there and try to get the boy out or something.
“Shame.” He muttered to himself, he would have liked the drama of her doing something like that, but as it was, the boy’s punishment was about to happen, and Hena’s attention turned back to the spectacle of it all.
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Hena hadn’t expected it as a woman stepped forward from the crowd and thanked him for not subjecting the crowd to having to watch the boy’s punishment.
“No need to get blood on anyone’s clothes.” He replied simply, watching as the woman disappeared among the crowd once more before he had his announcement that the celebrations should continue. He was feeling confident about his decision for the thief.
Akhenaten heard Neena calling after him in protest as he walked away, had heard her tone and her words, and yet he continued on his path, back towards his own lavish set up where he could sit and be comfortable and drink wine that was likely worth more than the thieving boy had ever seen in his life. Such was the way of the world. Akhenaten was a noble, a Lord of a rich family, he had the joys of nobleblood, and commoners lived their lives as commoners did. If they chose to stoop to thievery, they would face punishment when caught.
He made it back to his area, and one of his slaves had a cup of wine ready for him, he took it and wandered over towards where his male slaves had taken the boy, intent on watching his punishment be doled out. Hena wasn’t one to cringe away from blood, at least not when it came to things like this. A common boy, a no-good thief, watching his hand be removed would be a fun spectacle for the day. Perhaps more interesting than watching the crowds as they celebrated.
He looked around for a moment, seeing no glimpse of Neena who had been so adamant in changing his mind. He was a little surprised she wasn’t there to try her best to stop the punishment still. Had she given up so easily? Hena didn’t know her well, but he could see the fire in her, and he had fully expected her to run in there and try to get the boy out or something.
“Shame.” He muttered to himself, he would have liked the drama of her doing something like that, but as it was, the boy’s punishment was about to happen, and Hena’s attention turned back to the spectacle of it all.
Hena hadn’t expected it as a woman stepped forward from the crowd and thanked him for not subjecting the crowd to having to watch the boy’s punishment.
“No need to get blood on anyone’s clothes.” He replied simply, watching as the woman disappeared among the crowd once more before he had his announcement that the celebrations should continue. He was feeling confident about his decision for the thief.
Akhenaten heard Neena calling after him in protest as he walked away, had heard her tone and her words, and yet he continued on his path, back towards his own lavish set up where he could sit and be comfortable and drink wine that was likely worth more than the thieving boy had ever seen in his life. Such was the way of the world. Akhenaten was a noble, a Lord of a rich family, he had the joys of nobleblood, and commoners lived their lives as commoners did. If they chose to stoop to thievery, they would face punishment when caught.
He made it back to his area, and one of his slaves had a cup of wine ready for him, he took it and wandered over towards where his male slaves had taken the boy, intent on watching his punishment be doled out. Hena wasn’t one to cringe away from blood, at least not when it came to things like this. A common boy, a no-good thief, watching his hand be removed would be a fun spectacle for the day. Perhaps more interesting than watching the crowds as they celebrated.
He looked around for a moment, seeing no glimpse of Neena who had been so adamant in changing his mind. He was a little surprised she wasn’t there to try her best to stop the punishment still. Had she given up so easily? Hena didn’t know her well, but he could see the fire in her, and he had fully expected her to run in there and try to get the boy out or something.
“Shame.” He muttered to himself, he would have liked the drama of her doing something like that, but as it was, the boy’s punishment was about to happen, and Hena’s attention turned back to the spectacle of it all.
When the man said there was no need for blood on anyone's clothes, Nafretiri nodded. "Well said, sir." Privately, she was bothered by the fact that anyone would be punished the way they were doing to this young man, regardless of his thievery. Surely there had to be less torturous ways to get the message across that stealing was wrong. Or perhaps one of the gods ought to strike the boy dead, in an act of mercy. As a former slave, however, even if no one else here were to know, Nafretiri felt some pressure to agree with the nobleman. It was, most likely, safest, if one didn't want to cause trouble. Still, she kept her expression as neutral as she could as she bowed to him again before continuing on her way.
As the crowd moved forward, Aneksi, now tired and in her mother's arms, let out an excited squeal. "Amma! Neena!" Or maybe it was one word. Time seemed to move so fast from that point that Nafretiri was no longer sure.
There seemed to be little time to act, especially because she was still slightly behind the gaggle of priestesses, but she could almost have cared less. Neena was someone she liked, and Aneksi did too. Was she doomed to lose someone else she considered a friend, again?
"By the gods, what are you doing!? Do you want to get yourself killed?" Though Nafretiri had no idea whether Neena would be able to hear her over the crowd, she felt she had to try to catch her attention. Nafretiri was not sprinting, trying to consider her daughter in her arms. Aneksi loved speed, but too much could make her vomit. Nonetheless, she could still hear her own footsteps slapping on the sand. By the time she could see a little better what was happening, it appeared that a man was in pursuit of Neena as well, and Nafretiri gaped in shock as he pulled Neena into his arms. She hadn't seen this man before, and it seemed that he had nearly appeared from thin air. She was about to investigate just what the man was going to do with- or to- Neena, but was called to by another of the priestesses, wanting to know what was taking her so long, and had to look in the other direction to see who was addressing her. She was unaware that she had turned rather pale.
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When the man said there was no need for blood on anyone's clothes, Nafretiri nodded. "Well said, sir." Privately, she was bothered by the fact that anyone would be punished the way they were doing to this young man, regardless of his thievery. Surely there had to be less torturous ways to get the message across that stealing was wrong. Or perhaps one of the gods ought to strike the boy dead, in an act of mercy. As a former slave, however, even if no one else here were to know, Nafretiri felt some pressure to agree with the nobleman. It was, most likely, safest, if one didn't want to cause trouble. Still, she kept her expression as neutral as she could as she bowed to him again before continuing on her way.
As the crowd moved forward, Aneksi, now tired and in her mother's arms, let out an excited squeal. "Amma! Neena!" Or maybe it was one word. Time seemed to move so fast from that point that Nafretiri was no longer sure.
There seemed to be little time to act, especially because she was still slightly behind the gaggle of priestesses, but she could almost have cared less. Neena was someone she liked, and Aneksi did too. Was she doomed to lose someone else she considered a friend, again?
"By the gods, what are you doing!? Do you want to get yourself killed?" Though Nafretiri had no idea whether Neena would be able to hear her over the crowd, she felt she had to try to catch her attention. Nafretiri was not sprinting, trying to consider her daughter in her arms. Aneksi loved speed, but too much could make her vomit. Nonetheless, she could still hear her own footsteps slapping on the sand. By the time she could see a little better what was happening, it appeared that a man was in pursuit of Neena as well, and Nafretiri gaped in shock as he pulled Neena into his arms. She hadn't seen this man before, and it seemed that he had nearly appeared from thin air. She was about to investigate just what the man was going to do with- or to- Neena, but was called to by another of the priestesses, wanting to know what was taking her so long, and had to look in the other direction to see who was addressing her. She was unaware that she had turned rather pale.
When the man said there was no need for blood on anyone's clothes, Nafretiri nodded. "Well said, sir." Privately, she was bothered by the fact that anyone would be punished the way they were doing to this young man, regardless of his thievery. Surely there had to be less torturous ways to get the message across that stealing was wrong. Or perhaps one of the gods ought to strike the boy dead, in an act of mercy. As a former slave, however, even if no one else here were to know, Nafretiri felt some pressure to agree with the nobleman. It was, most likely, safest, if one didn't want to cause trouble. Still, she kept her expression as neutral as she could as she bowed to him again before continuing on her way.
As the crowd moved forward, Aneksi, now tired and in her mother's arms, let out an excited squeal. "Amma! Neena!" Or maybe it was one word. Time seemed to move so fast from that point that Nafretiri was no longer sure.
There seemed to be little time to act, especially because she was still slightly behind the gaggle of priestesses, but she could almost have cared less. Neena was someone she liked, and Aneksi did too. Was she doomed to lose someone else she considered a friend, again?
"By the gods, what are you doing!? Do you want to get yourself killed?" Though Nafretiri had no idea whether Neena would be able to hear her over the crowd, she felt she had to try to catch her attention. Nafretiri was not sprinting, trying to consider her daughter in her arms. Aneksi loved speed, but too much could make her vomit. Nonetheless, she could still hear her own footsteps slapping on the sand. By the time she could see a little better what was happening, it appeared that a man was in pursuit of Neena as well, and Nafretiri gaped in shock as he pulled Neena into his arms. She hadn't seen this man before, and it seemed that he had nearly appeared from thin air. She was about to investigate just what the man was going to do with- or to- Neena, but was called to by another of the priestesses, wanting to know what was taking her so long, and had to look in the other direction to see who was addressing her. She was unaware that she had turned rather pale.
As the small barge carrying the newest Naddar prince arrived at the dock, Sutekh quickly discovered that he was not prepared for the waves of homesickness that crashed over him as the familiar skyline of Thebes came into view. All it took was one step before a sharp jab hit him in the lower stomach, threatening to keel him over. The pain and the longing was so strong that the Prince was convinced for a moment that someone must have struck him. He knew that this couldn’t be the case though as no one was close enough to him to commit such a foolish action -- if anything, it could have only been the gods given how much distance everyone had been giving him since the truth of who Sutekh really was had come to light. Perhaps they had decided that along with the misery he felt that he should be punished for his parents’ sins with physical pain as well? Clearly, the change in his name hadn’t been enough of a reminder of the shame that his birth had brought over himself and the Sheifa.
Or perhaps the panging in his stomach had a different cause. After all, Hatshepsut had been so busy with the preparations for the festival today that she could not spare the time to dine with Sutekh and the boy was so exhausted that he could not recall if yesterday had been the same as well…
Well, either way, at least with the whole of Thebes descending upon the city streets, it was more than likely that every market stall would be overflowing with all sorts of delicacies. Luckily, this also meant that Iahotep would never be able to possibly predict which merchant Sutekh would be haggling with for a meal. The prince could easily feast like a king that evening and not worry for a moment about being poisoned. He didn’t think that he had been able to say that since first arriving at the Evening Star Palace. The sheer reassurance that this rationalization brought coaxed a smile onto the Prince’s face as he made his way into the throngs of people gathered for the celebration.
Even though Sutekh was a Prince, not many people took notice of his arrival. Instead, their eyes were glued to the sedan chairs passing nearby, clamoring for a chance to see the Pharaoh and his young queen -- his half-sister. The young man offered Hatshepsut a small smile as the procession moved close to him, but he was sure that she wouldn’t have been able to pick him out among the hundreds of other faces in the crowd. That was probably for the best though. After all, there was a reason why Sutekh had traveled separately and wasn’t attempting to call much attention to his presence here in Thebes; the wounds of his parentage still stung for many here as the Sheifa Saraaya was only a short walk away from the city center where the populace was gathered. He was lucky that the other child of Imopehatsuma had welcomed him into her life, but he knew that the other Sheifa’s were still in the midst of his scandal. He did not want to bring them unnecessary pain and humiliation on such a happy day by being near his sister and her husband. He still cared far too much to let that happen.
Yet, he couldn’t shake how close his old family was from his mind. It wasn’t that far of a distance between the temples and his old home. Surely, no one would notice if he slipped away to return to the Saraaya. Perhaps Onuphrious would have avoided the festivities and time would have lessened the rage in his father’s heart. Maybe… just maybe… if he could talk to the Sirdar…
No. You have to stop doing that, Sutekh silently chastised himself as he moved away from the bulk of the crowd. He is never going to let you go back and you need to accept it. The words hurt, but Sutekh knew that eventually, he was going to accept them. It would just be difficult today given everything that had happened and what Thebes meant to him. He knew that it would be hard coming back to the city, but he would have to grin and bear it. Just like a good Sheifa would.
He had half the mind to distract himself with food before the procession traveled on to the temples, but a flurry of commotion stole his attention. Sutekh was too far away to intervene as cries about a thief went up in the crowd and by the time he had pushed himself close enough to the action to see what was happening; he could see that it was better that he wasn’t in the thick of it. Especially when it appeared that it was his half-brother Hena who apprehended the thief in question and already ordered the punishment by the time Sutekh got close enough to hear. His heart swelled at the sight of his brother, both from pride and the familiar pang of homesickness. It had only been a short while since Hena was forced to take the mantle of heir and from this action alone it seemed that he was taking to it rather well… which was not what Sutekh had expected from his troublesome little brother.
When Sutekh had left, Hena could barely have been bothered to be sober for more than an hour. How could it be that the same boy was now intervening to do the right thing when presented with chaos? It seemed almost ludicrous and if Sutekh wasn’t seeing it for his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed that it had happened at all. It looked as if Hena was taking to the responsibility of being heir like a duck to water and the realization of this hit Sutekh squarely in his gut again. Although he was proud of his brother doing what was right, this was a clear sign to Sutekh that he had very easily been replaced. For twenty years, Hena had been useless, a pest, and an annoyance. Sutekh was seen as the only boy who could do anything right and the boy had spent years making sure that he followed the straight and narrow in order to make his parents proud.
Had all that effort been replaced so quickly?
As the Bedoan girl near Hena began to panic over the punishment being doled out to the thief, Sutekh took that chance to slip away from the incident. He didn’t want to see Hena and have to confront this new version of his brother was before him. It was just simply too much and far too soon. It would be far easier to disappear into the crowd for now. Perhaps if the boy had stayed longer he might have seen more clues that Akhenaten wasn’t the golden heir that he appeared to be at that moment. Oh well, at least there would be quite a shock waiting for him the next time the brothers crossed paths -- whenever that would be.
It was a good thing though that Sutekh tried to put as much space between himself and his brother as possible. After all, if the Prince hadn’t been turned around in his quest for food, he may not have had the chance to cross paths with someone else who looked just as lost and alone as he was in this crowd of thousands.
Safiya H’Haikkidad... Or Sameera… Truthfully, Sutekh could never tell the difference between the girls.
Regardless as to which twin she was, Sutekh had always been cordial with both -- especially as it became clear that Isetheperu would never choose a man from the Heis for her daughter’s bridegroom and the Sheifa would have to build those sort of connections elsewhere. So at least maybe the Prince could find some sort of distraction in a conversation with her? Though, that would rest on the presumption that the girl wouldn’t turn him away on account of the scandal. Sutekh didn’t know what the other Heis thought of the revelation that he was illegitimate or if they blamed him for the scandal that had befallen the family the only family he had ever known. He hoped that this wasn’t the case. After all, he didn’t know if he could cope with being both rejected and replaced in the span of ten minutes.
Moving his way through the crowd to where she was, looking like a beacon with her bright fabric, the former Sheifa heir fell into place next to the younger girl. He took care to announce his presence to her so that she wouldn’t be frightened by a man coming this close to her -- an action that was now permitted due to his change in rank. “ Forgive my intrusion, Lady…” He hastily said, purposely trailing off at the end so the twin would be able to save him the embarrassment of mislabeling her for her sister, “ Are you alright? I couldn’t help, but notice you appeared to be… troubled.” Sutekh paused for a moment as he tried to find the right word to describe the nervous energy Safiya appeared to be giving off amidst the crowd. It knew it wouldn’t be polite to call it worried, nervous, or apprehensive, but he thought the word he had settled on wouldn’t have caused much offense.
“ Where is your family? Your sister?” Sutekh asked as he glanced around, expecting to see the girl’s mirror image somewhere nearby. However, the girl appeared to be all alone. Was that the source of the Haikkidad’s worries? He turned back to her with a confused expression, waiting to see what the girl would say to his inquiries… and his presence to begin with. Sutekh didn’t know what the Cario-based Hei thought of the scandal. She could very well refuse to answer his questions and turn her nose up at him -- leaving them both to wander the crowds alone again. However, if she was alone… she wouldn’t turn away a man of his rank who was clearly just as apprehensive about the whole event as she was…
Would she?
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As the small barge carrying the newest Naddar prince arrived at the dock, Sutekh quickly discovered that he was not prepared for the waves of homesickness that crashed over him as the familiar skyline of Thebes came into view. All it took was one step before a sharp jab hit him in the lower stomach, threatening to keel him over. The pain and the longing was so strong that the Prince was convinced for a moment that someone must have struck him. He knew that this couldn’t be the case though as no one was close enough to him to commit such a foolish action -- if anything, it could have only been the gods given how much distance everyone had been giving him since the truth of who Sutekh really was had come to light. Perhaps they had decided that along with the misery he felt that he should be punished for his parents’ sins with physical pain as well? Clearly, the change in his name hadn’t been enough of a reminder of the shame that his birth had brought over himself and the Sheifa.
Or perhaps the panging in his stomach had a different cause. After all, Hatshepsut had been so busy with the preparations for the festival today that she could not spare the time to dine with Sutekh and the boy was so exhausted that he could not recall if yesterday had been the same as well…
Well, either way, at least with the whole of Thebes descending upon the city streets, it was more than likely that every market stall would be overflowing with all sorts of delicacies. Luckily, this also meant that Iahotep would never be able to possibly predict which merchant Sutekh would be haggling with for a meal. The prince could easily feast like a king that evening and not worry for a moment about being poisoned. He didn’t think that he had been able to say that since first arriving at the Evening Star Palace. The sheer reassurance that this rationalization brought coaxed a smile onto the Prince’s face as he made his way into the throngs of people gathered for the celebration.
Even though Sutekh was a Prince, not many people took notice of his arrival. Instead, their eyes were glued to the sedan chairs passing nearby, clamoring for a chance to see the Pharaoh and his young queen -- his half-sister. The young man offered Hatshepsut a small smile as the procession moved close to him, but he was sure that she wouldn’t have been able to pick him out among the hundreds of other faces in the crowd. That was probably for the best though. After all, there was a reason why Sutekh had traveled separately and wasn’t attempting to call much attention to his presence here in Thebes; the wounds of his parentage still stung for many here as the Sheifa Saraaya was only a short walk away from the city center where the populace was gathered. He was lucky that the other child of Imopehatsuma had welcomed him into her life, but he knew that the other Sheifa’s were still in the midst of his scandal. He did not want to bring them unnecessary pain and humiliation on such a happy day by being near his sister and her husband. He still cared far too much to let that happen.
Yet, he couldn’t shake how close his old family was from his mind. It wasn’t that far of a distance between the temples and his old home. Surely, no one would notice if he slipped away to return to the Saraaya. Perhaps Onuphrious would have avoided the festivities and time would have lessened the rage in his father’s heart. Maybe… just maybe… if he could talk to the Sirdar…
No. You have to stop doing that, Sutekh silently chastised himself as he moved away from the bulk of the crowd. He is never going to let you go back and you need to accept it. The words hurt, but Sutekh knew that eventually, he was going to accept them. It would just be difficult today given everything that had happened and what Thebes meant to him. He knew that it would be hard coming back to the city, but he would have to grin and bear it. Just like a good Sheifa would.
He had half the mind to distract himself with food before the procession traveled on to the temples, but a flurry of commotion stole his attention. Sutekh was too far away to intervene as cries about a thief went up in the crowd and by the time he had pushed himself close enough to the action to see what was happening; he could see that it was better that he wasn’t in the thick of it. Especially when it appeared that it was his half-brother Hena who apprehended the thief in question and already ordered the punishment by the time Sutekh got close enough to hear. His heart swelled at the sight of his brother, both from pride and the familiar pang of homesickness. It had only been a short while since Hena was forced to take the mantle of heir and from this action alone it seemed that he was taking to it rather well… which was not what Sutekh had expected from his troublesome little brother.
When Sutekh had left, Hena could barely have been bothered to be sober for more than an hour. How could it be that the same boy was now intervening to do the right thing when presented with chaos? It seemed almost ludicrous and if Sutekh wasn’t seeing it for his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed that it had happened at all. It looked as if Hena was taking to the responsibility of being heir like a duck to water and the realization of this hit Sutekh squarely in his gut again. Although he was proud of his brother doing what was right, this was a clear sign to Sutekh that he had very easily been replaced. For twenty years, Hena had been useless, a pest, and an annoyance. Sutekh was seen as the only boy who could do anything right and the boy had spent years making sure that he followed the straight and narrow in order to make his parents proud.
Had all that effort been replaced so quickly?
As the Bedoan girl near Hena began to panic over the punishment being doled out to the thief, Sutekh took that chance to slip away from the incident. He didn’t want to see Hena and have to confront this new version of his brother was before him. It was just simply too much and far too soon. It would be far easier to disappear into the crowd for now. Perhaps if the boy had stayed longer he might have seen more clues that Akhenaten wasn’t the golden heir that he appeared to be at that moment. Oh well, at least there would be quite a shock waiting for him the next time the brothers crossed paths -- whenever that would be.
It was a good thing though that Sutekh tried to put as much space between himself and his brother as possible. After all, if the Prince hadn’t been turned around in his quest for food, he may not have had the chance to cross paths with someone else who looked just as lost and alone as he was in this crowd of thousands.
Safiya H’Haikkidad... Or Sameera… Truthfully, Sutekh could never tell the difference between the girls.
Regardless as to which twin she was, Sutekh had always been cordial with both -- especially as it became clear that Isetheperu would never choose a man from the Heis for her daughter’s bridegroom and the Sheifa would have to build those sort of connections elsewhere. So at least maybe the Prince could find some sort of distraction in a conversation with her? Though, that would rest on the presumption that the girl wouldn’t turn him away on account of the scandal. Sutekh didn’t know what the other Heis thought of the revelation that he was illegitimate or if they blamed him for the scandal that had befallen the family the only family he had ever known. He hoped that this wasn’t the case. After all, he didn’t know if he could cope with being both rejected and replaced in the span of ten minutes.
Moving his way through the crowd to where she was, looking like a beacon with her bright fabric, the former Sheifa heir fell into place next to the younger girl. He took care to announce his presence to her so that she wouldn’t be frightened by a man coming this close to her -- an action that was now permitted due to his change in rank. “ Forgive my intrusion, Lady…” He hastily said, purposely trailing off at the end so the twin would be able to save him the embarrassment of mislabeling her for her sister, “ Are you alright? I couldn’t help, but notice you appeared to be… troubled.” Sutekh paused for a moment as he tried to find the right word to describe the nervous energy Safiya appeared to be giving off amidst the crowd. It knew it wouldn’t be polite to call it worried, nervous, or apprehensive, but he thought the word he had settled on wouldn’t have caused much offense.
“ Where is your family? Your sister?” Sutekh asked as he glanced around, expecting to see the girl’s mirror image somewhere nearby. However, the girl appeared to be all alone. Was that the source of the Haikkidad’s worries? He turned back to her with a confused expression, waiting to see what the girl would say to his inquiries… and his presence to begin with. Sutekh didn’t know what the Cario-based Hei thought of the scandal. She could very well refuse to answer his questions and turn her nose up at him -- leaving them both to wander the crowds alone again. However, if she was alone… she wouldn’t turn away a man of his rank who was clearly just as apprehensive about the whole event as she was…
Would she?
As the small barge carrying the newest Naddar prince arrived at the dock, Sutekh quickly discovered that he was not prepared for the waves of homesickness that crashed over him as the familiar skyline of Thebes came into view. All it took was one step before a sharp jab hit him in the lower stomach, threatening to keel him over. The pain and the longing was so strong that the Prince was convinced for a moment that someone must have struck him. He knew that this couldn’t be the case though as no one was close enough to him to commit such a foolish action -- if anything, it could have only been the gods given how much distance everyone had been giving him since the truth of who Sutekh really was had come to light. Perhaps they had decided that along with the misery he felt that he should be punished for his parents’ sins with physical pain as well? Clearly, the change in his name hadn’t been enough of a reminder of the shame that his birth had brought over himself and the Sheifa.
Or perhaps the panging in his stomach had a different cause. After all, Hatshepsut had been so busy with the preparations for the festival today that she could not spare the time to dine with Sutekh and the boy was so exhausted that he could not recall if yesterday had been the same as well…
Well, either way, at least with the whole of Thebes descending upon the city streets, it was more than likely that every market stall would be overflowing with all sorts of delicacies. Luckily, this also meant that Iahotep would never be able to possibly predict which merchant Sutekh would be haggling with for a meal. The prince could easily feast like a king that evening and not worry for a moment about being poisoned. He didn’t think that he had been able to say that since first arriving at the Evening Star Palace. The sheer reassurance that this rationalization brought coaxed a smile onto the Prince’s face as he made his way into the throngs of people gathered for the celebration.
Even though Sutekh was a Prince, not many people took notice of his arrival. Instead, their eyes were glued to the sedan chairs passing nearby, clamoring for a chance to see the Pharaoh and his young queen -- his half-sister. The young man offered Hatshepsut a small smile as the procession moved close to him, but he was sure that she wouldn’t have been able to pick him out among the hundreds of other faces in the crowd. That was probably for the best though. After all, there was a reason why Sutekh had traveled separately and wasn’t attempting to call much attention to his presence here in Thebes; the wounds of his parentage still stung for many here as the Sheifa Saraaya was only a short walk away from the city center where the populace was gathered. He was lucky that the other child of Imopehatsuma had welcomed him into her life, but he knew that the other Sheifa’s were still in the midst of his scandal. He did not want to bring them unnecessary pain and humiliation on such a happy day by being near his sister and her husband. He still cared far too much to let that happen.
Yet, he couldn’t shake how close his old family was from his mind. It wasn’t that far of a distance between the temples and his old home. Surely, no one would notice if he slipped away to return to the Saraaya. Perhaps Onuphrious would have avoided the festivities and time would have lessened the rage in his father’s heart. Maybe… just maybe… if he could talk to the Sirdar…
No. You have to stop doing that, Sutekh silently chastised himself as he moved away from the bulk of the crowd. He is never going to let you go back and you need to accept it. The words hurt, but Sutekh knew that eventually, he was going to accept them. It would just be difficult today given everything that had happened and what Thebes meant to him. He knew that it would be hard coming back to the city, but he would have to grin and bear it. Just like a good Sheifa would.
He had half the mind to distract himself with food before the procession traveled on to the temples, but a flurry of commotion stole his attention. Sutekh was too far away to intervene as cries about a thief went up in the crowd and by the time he had pushed himself close enough to the action to see what was happening; he could see that it was better that he wasn’t in the thick of it. Especially when it appeared that it was his half-brother Hena who apprehended the thief in question and already ordered the punishment by the time Sutekh got close enough to hear. His heart swelled at the sight of his brother, both from pride and the familiar pang of homesickness. It had only been a short while since Hena was forced to take the mantle of heir and from this action alone it seemed that he was taking to it rather well… which was not what Sutekh had expected from his troublesome little brother.
When Sutekh had left, Hena could barely have been bothered to be sober for more than an hour. How could it be that the same boy was now intervening to do the right thing when presented with chaos? It seemed almost ludicrous and if Sutekh wasn’t seeing it for his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed that it had happened at all. It looked as if Hena was taking to the responsibility of being heir like a duck to water and the realization of this hit Sutekh squarely in his gut again. Although he was proud of his brother doing what was right, this was a clear sign to Sutekh that he had very easily been replaced. For twenty years, Hena had been useless, a pest, and an annoyance. Sutekh was seen as the only boy who could do anything right and the boy had spent years making sure that he followed the straight and narrow in order to make his parents proud.
Had all that effort been replaced so quickly?
As the Bedoan girl near Hena began to panic over the punishment being doled out to the thief, Sutekh took that chance to slip away from the incident. He didn’t want to see Hena and have to confront this new version of his brother was before him. It was just simply too much and far too soon. It would be far easier to disappear into the crowd for now. Perhaps if the boy had stayed longer he might have seen more clues that Akhenaten wasn’t the golden heir that he appeared to be at that moment. Oh well, at least there would be quite a shock waiting for him the next time the brothers crossed paths -- whenever that would be.
It was a good thing though that Sutekh tried to put as much space between himself and his brother as possible. After all, if the Prince hadn’t been turned around in his quest for food, he may not have had the chance to cross paths with someone else who looked just as lost and alone as he was in this crowd of thousands.
Safiya H’Haikkidad... Or Sameera… Truthfully, Sutekh could never tell the difference between the girls.
Regardless as to which twin she was, Sutekh had always been cordial with both -- especially as it became clear that Isetheperu would never choose a man from the Heis for her daughter’s bridegroom and the Sheifa would have to build those sort of connections elsewhere. So at least maybe the Prince could find some sort of distraction in a conversation with her? Though, that would rest on the presumption that the girl wouldn’t turn him away on account of the scandal. Sutekh didn’t know what the other Heis thought of the revelation that he was illegitimate or if they blamed him for the scandal that had befallen the family the only family he had ever known. He hoped that this wasn’t the case. After all, he didn’t know if he could cope with being both rejected and replaced in the span of ten minutes.
Moving his way through the crowd to where she was, looking like a beacon with her bright fabric, the former Sheifa heir fell into place next to the younger girl. He took care to announce his presence to her so that she wouldn’t be frightened by a man coming this close to her -- an action that was now permitted due to his change in rank. “ Forgive my intrusion, Lady…” He hastily said, purposely trailing off at the end so the twin would be able to save him the embarrassment of mislabeling her for her sister, “ Are you alright? I couldn’t help, but notice you appeared to be… troubled.” Sutekh paused for a moment as he tried to find the right word to describe the nervous energy Safiya appeared to be giving off amidst the crowd. It knew it wouldn’t be polite to call it worried, nervous, or apprehensive, but he thought the word he had settled on wouldn’t have caused much offense.
“ Where is your family? Your sister?” Sutekh asked as he glanced around, expecting to see the girl’s mirror image somewhere nearby. However, the girl appeared to be all alone. Was that the source of the Haikkidad’s worries? He turned back to her with a confused expression, waiting to see what the girl would say to his inquiries… and his presence to begin with. Sutekh didn’t know what the Cario-based Hei thought of the scandal. She could very well refuse to answer his questions and turn her nose up at him -- leaving them both to wander the crowds alone again. However, if she was alone… she wouldn’t turn away a man of his rank who was clearly just as apprehensive about the whole event as she was…
Would she?
She didn't like to believe in court gossip. It didn't stop her from listening to whenever she had the chance, and of course, her own actions resulted in some as well. That was why in spite of the shiny and new aura that was attached to this royal family member and prince, she knew him on sight.
Normally Safiya was a little bit careful with making any gross assumptions about another person based on a casual look in their direction. However, Safiya knew this one and so she grinned widely. It was actually a little bit inappropriate to be talking to him, she knew that much. If her uncle learned about it then it was possible he would be disappointed and even angry - or would he? She wasn't sure if he wouldn't instead want to spend time attempting to figure out the best way to use it all to the fullest advantage possible.
Lately, it had all become: politics.
"You are very kind. I mean that, but I am just a little overwhelmed. This is the first time I've been here for anything like this - but you must be the same?" she was not trying to be rude, it was just in her nature to have her thoughts immediately pop into life in her words when spoken to another person. It was a bad habit in light of recent developments but Safiya was not conscious of it at the moment, she was perfectly willing to accept advice. If and when it was pointed out to her as being necessary.
Safiya shrugged "I am sure she is around, were you looking for her, prince Sutekh?" it was often the case that people picked the wrong twin and found themselves dealing with that particular moment of awkward confusion.
"Do you want to come with me and we can find her together?" the suggestion was made brightly and with her usual confidence in such things, the happy generosity of being able to know that they could help out and hopefully just make sure that everything would work out for the best. Though Safiya was hesitating in being sure about what was going on with his words. Had she misunderstood?
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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She didn't like to believe in court gossip. It didn't stop her from listening to whenever she had the chance, and of course, her own actions resulted in some as well. That was why in spite of the shiny and new aura that was attached to this royal family member and prince, she knew him on sight.
Normally Safiya was a little bit careful with making any gross assumptions about another person based on a casual look in their direction. However, Safiya knew this one and so she grinned widely. It was actually a little bit inappropriate to be talking to him, she knew that much. If her uncle learned about it then it was possible he would be disappointed and even angry - or would he? She wasn't sure if he wouldn't instead want to spend time attempting to figure out the best way to use it all to the fullest advantage possible.
Lately, it had all become: politics.
"You are very kind. I mean that, but I am just a little overwhelmed. This is the first time I've been here for anything like this - but you must be the same?" she was not trying to be rude, it was just in her nature to have her thoughts immediately pop into life in her words when spoken to another person. It was a bad habit in light of recent developments but Safiya was not conscious of it at the moment, she was perfectly willing to accept advice. If and when it was pointed out to her as being necessary.
Safiya shrugged "I am sure she is around, were you looking for her, prince Sutekh?" it was often the case that people picked the wrong twin and found themselves dealing with that particular moment of awkward confusion.
"Do you want to come with me and we can find her together?" the suggestion was made brightly and with her usual confidence in such things, the happy generosity of being able to know that they could help out and hopefully just make sure that everything would work out for the best. Though Safiya was hesitating in being sure about what was going on with his words. Had she misunderstood?
She didn't like to believe in court gossip. It didn't stop her from listening to whenever she had the chance, and of course, her own actions resulted in some as well. That was why in spite of the shiny and new aura that was attached to this royal family member and prince, she knew him on sight.
Normally Safiya was a little bit careful with making any gross assumptions about another person based on a casual look in their direction. However, Safiya knew this one and so she grinned widely. It was actually a little bit inappropriate to be talking to him, she knew that much. If her uncle learned about it then it was possible he would be disappointed and even angry - or would he? She wasn't sure if he wouldn't instead want to spend time attempting to figure out the best way to use it all to the fullest advantage possible.
Lately, it had all become: politics.
"You are very kind. I mean that, but I am just a little overwhelmed. This is the first time I've been here for anything like this - but you must be the same?" she was not trying to be rude, it was just in her nature to have her thoughts immediately pop into life in her words when spoken to another person. It was a bad habit in light of recent developments but Safiya was not conscious of it at the moment, she was perfectly willing to accept advice. If and when it was pointed out to her as being necessary.
Safiya shrugged "I am sure she is around, were you looking for her, prince Sutekh?" it was often the case that people picked the wrong twin and found themselves dealing with that particular moment of awkward confusion.
"Do you want to come with me and we can find her together?" the suggestion was made brightly and with her usual confidence in such things, the happy generosity of being able to know that they could help out and hopefully just make sure that everything would work out for the best. Though Safiya was hesitating in being sure about what was going on with his words. Had she misunderstood?
Sutekh was relieved when the Haikkaddad girl didn’t seem to judge him too harshly when he approached. The Bastard Prince visibly relaxed at this revelation, grateful that he had been, thus far, spared from another humiliation. Though, truthfully, he probably should have expected the young woman to be receptive to his presence. Neither twin had ever struck him as being overly-fond of the gossip circuits. Not while Safiya was assertive and bold, seemingly placing herself above such ‘lowly’ thing as rumors. Her mirror half was cut from a similar cloth, but her more reserved nature lent to Sameera’s general disinterest in the whole activity. She actually reminded the former Sheifa heir as Nenet in that respect…
He tried to shake the thoughts about his former family out of his head before they fully crept in. It would do him no good to let his mind drift here -- especially as the wounds that had formed from the separation and silence from his baby sister hadn’t even come close to healing.
Instead, the young man tried to refocus his efforts on narrowing down the identity of the noblewoman before him. She had (annoyingly) neglected to state which of the twins she was when he had tried to gently inquire about the delicate subject. He was pretty sure that the girls would not be fond of being mistaken for the other and Sutekh didn’t want to run the risk of inciting their wrath if this assumption was correct. A small scowl formed on his face as he thought over this conundrum. His mind already leaping to the conclusion that she was playing some sort of game with him. As if she could get Sutekh to guess which of the twins she was.
If this was right, then the girl before him was most certainly Safiya. After all, her sister was far too reserved to initiate this sort of thing. However, it was also entirely possible that she had just merely neglected to catch his silent question. Perhaps that would mean that she was Sameera?... Though, maybe this was Safiya, purposely trying to trick Sutekh into thinking that she was her more oblivious sister?...
Good gods, how did Sirdar Narmer keep track of them?
“ Well it is not my first Opet Festival,” Sutekh responded with a pained grin, trying to set the Haikkadad girl at ease while she approached a rather touchy topic for the new Prince. For the first twenty-four years of his life, Sutekh had been the heir to one of the more prominent Heis here in Thebes. It would be sacrilege if the Sheifa were not present for the festivities and so Sutekh had been following those covered statues since before he could walk properly. It was so ingrained in him that he had to present for this event that he couldn’t bear remaining in Cairo as Hatshepsut and her husband traveled down the Nile to his former home. The trouble he had gone through for him to arrange being here had been well worth it --considering the sheer amount of anxiety and stress that he would have suffered from if he remained in the Evening Star Palace.
That desire to be a good Sheifa was still strong in him, even after everything that happened.
Yet, the younger woman was right. As familiar as the Beautiful Feast was to him, it was overwhelmingly foreign too. Thebes was no longer his home and in many ways, he was not welcomed here. Not when the majority of the people likely saw him as the cause of the scandal that rocked the H’Sheifa. (He may not have done anything wrong, but the Bastard Prince had no doubts that he would be blamed anyway.) Sutekh was not welcome to take his usual place beside his siblings nor was it wise for him to travel through the procession with his half-sister. This was the first Opet festival where he was a stranger. Never before had he felt like he didn’t belong.
“ But yes, I haven’t been to one quite like this before. Perhaps we can try to navigate it together?” He asked with a light chuckle as he offered her his arm to hold as any good nobleman would do. This was something that he never would have done as the Sheifa heir and truthfully? He was a little stunned that he was being so forward as well -- especially as Safiya (or Sameera) was seemingly unaccompanied by any other relative. However, these were different times and Sutekh was a different person. He may struggle to convince himself of the finality of his new living conditions, but he was a Prince of Egypt now. Sutekh could do practically anything that he wished with no consequences. Sirdar Narmer could worry later about the implications of his young niece being seen so publicly with a disgraced bastard, but it wasn’t like he was going to cause a fuss given that Sutekh had royal blood flowing through his veins.
Plus, Sirdar Narmer wouldn’t need to worry too greatly. Sutekh was not his brother or brother-in-law. He was not asking to spend the day with the mystery twin because he had nefarious intentions. In truth, Sutekh was just lonely. He was homesick for the life he once had and the boy struggled to trust the few kind faces that had been presented to him. The other girl seemed to be just as lost as him and regardless if she was Sameera or Safiya, Sutekh had never had an issue with either twin. Perhaps she could help him forget the miserable cloud that hung over him and he could still enjoy this beloved festival?
It was then that the games continued for the poor confused prince and the mystery girl. When she asked if Sutekh was looking for her mirror image, he couldn’t help lifting an eyebrow and quipping back, “ Should I?” Although the words were terse, his tone made it clear that he was merely playing along, making it clear that he still had no idea whether she was Safiya or Sameera. In truth, Sutekh didn’t have much of a preference between the two girls. If he had to choose, he’d probably go with Sameera as the elder twin’s reputation alone reminded him too much of Nef and Nia. Those two had given him so much strife growing up that Sutekh was not eager to spend time with other versions of him.
Little did he know that it was Safiya before him and not the other twin as he expected.
“ In truth, finding her is of little consequence to me. I am far more concerned for your wellbeing,” Sutekh affirmed as he graciously accepted her offer to search for the other Haikkadads together, “ It’s not safe for a noblewoman like yourself to traverse the crowds alone. The crowd can be a bit… stiffling once the procession is underway.” As soon as the Pharaoh and his wife had moved out of the square it was likely that the two of them would be swept up in the crowds as the parade moved from temple to temple. This wasn’t that much of a problem for Sutekh as he could handle himself in such a chaotic environment, but a pretty, nubile noble girl? He wouldn’t have been surprised if disaster struck even if she was the headstrong Safiya. At least now they could look out for each other if things got too chaotic for just one of them to handle.
As the two of them began maneuvering through the crowd, keeping an eye out for any of her relatives, the fact that the girl was alone did beg a certain question… “ Forgive my impertinence, but why were you and your sister parted in the first place? Knowing your sister, I doubt she would want to be separated from you during such an event?” A curious expression crossed his face as he continued the game, trying to see if he could goad the girl into revealing more information about who she was. Hopefully, this wasn’t a game at all and the girl was just merely forgetful in her introductions.
But if not, Sutekh was curious to see how far the game would go and how long it would take for him to identify the twin before him…
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Sutekh was relieved when the Haikkaddad girl didn’t seem to judge him too harshly when he approached. The Bastard Prince visibly relaxed at this revelation, grateful that he had been, thus far, spared from another humiliation. Though, truthfully, he probably should have expected the young woman to be receptive to his presence. Neither twin had ever struck him as being overly-fond of the gossip circuits. Not while Safiya was assertive and bold, seemingly placing herself above such ‘lowly’ thing as rumors. Her mirror half was cut from a similar cloth, but her more reserved nature lent to Sameera’s general disinterest in the whole activity. She actually reminded the former Sheifa heir as Nenet in that respect…
He tried to shake the thoughts about his former family out of his head before they fully crept in. It would do him no good to let his mind drift here -- especially as the wounds that had formed from the separation and silence from his baby sister hadn’t even come close to healing.
Instead, the young man tried to refocus his efforts on narrowing down the identity of the noblewoman before him. She had (annoyingly) neglected to state which of the twins she was when he had tried to gently inquire about the delicate subject. He was pretty sure that the girls would not be fond of being mistaken for the other and Sutekh didn’t want to run the risk of inciting their wrath if this assumption was correct. A small scowl formed on his face as he thought over this conundrum. His mind already leaping to the conclusion that she was playing some sort of game with him. As if she could get Sutekh to guess which of the twins she was.
If this was right, then the girl before him was most certainly Safiya. After all, her sister was far too reserved to initiate this sort of thing. However, it was also entirely possible that she had just merely neglected to catch his silent question. Perhaps that would mean that she was Sameera?... Though, maybe this was Safiya, purposely trying to trick Sutekh into thinking that she was her more oblivious sister?...
Good gods, how did Sirdar Narmer keep track of them?
“ Well it is not my first Opet Festival,” Sutekh responded with a pained grin, trying to set the Haikkadad girl at ease while she approached a rather touchy topic for the new Prince. For the first twenty-four years of his life, Sutekh had been the heir to one of the more prominent Heis here in Thebes. It would be sacrilege if the Sheifa were not present for the festivities and so Sutekh had been following those covered statues since before he could walk properly. It was so ingrained in him that he had to present for this event that he couldn’t bear remaining in Cairo as Hatshepsut and her husband traveled down the Nile to his former home. The trouble he had gone through for him to arrange being here had been well worth it --considering the sheer amount of anxiety and stress that he would have suffered from if he remained in the Evening Star Palace.
That desire to be a good Sheifa was still strong in him, even after everything that happened.
Yet, the younger woman was right. As familiar as the Beautiful Feast was to him, it was overwhelmingly foreign too. Thebes was no longer his home and in many ways, he was not welcomed here. Not when the majority of the people likely saw him as the cause of the scandal that rocked the H’Sheifa. (He may not have done anything wrong, but the Bastard Prince had no doubts that he would be blamed anyway.) Sutekh was not welcome to take his usual place beside his siblings nor was it wise for him to travel through the procession with his half-sister. This was the first Opet festival where he was a stranger. Never before had he felt like he didn’t belong.
“ But yes, I haven’t been to one quite like this before. Perhaps we can try to navigate it together?” He asked with a light chuckle as he offered her his arm to hold as any good nobleman would do. This was something that he never would have done as the Sheifa heir and truthfully? He was a little stunned that he was being so forward as well -- especially as Safiya (or Sameera) was seemingly unaccompanied by any other relative. However, these were different times and Sutekh was a different person. He may struggle to convince himself of the finality of his new living conditions, but he was a Prince of Egypt now. Sutekh could do practically anything that he wished with no consequences. Sirdar Narmer could worry later about the implications of his young niece being seen so publicly with a disgraced bastard, but it wasn’t like he was going to cause a fuss given that Sutekh had royal blood flowing through his veins.
Plus, Sirdar Narmer wouldn’t need to worry too greatly. Sutekh was not his brother or brother-in-law. He was not asking to spend the day with the mystery twin because he had nefarious intentions. In truth, Sutekh was just lonely. He was homesick for the life he once had and the boy struggled to trust the few kind faces that had been presented to him. The other girl seemed to be just as lost as him and regardless if she was Sameera or Safiya, Sutekh had never had an issue with either twin. Perhaps she could help him forget the miserable cloud that hung over him and he could still enjoy this beloved festival?
It was then that the games continued for the poor confused prince and the mystery girl. When she asked if Sutekh was looking for her mirror image, he couldn’t help lifting an eyebrow and quipping back, “ Should I?” Although the words were terse, his tone made it clear that he was merely playing along, making it clear that he still had no idea whether she was Safiya or Sameera. In truth, Sutekh didn’t have much of a preference between the two girls. If he had to choose, he’d probably go with Sameera as the elder twin’s reputation alone reminded him too much of Nef and Nia. Those two had given him so much strife growing up that Sutekh was not eager to spend time with other versions of him.
Little did he know that it was Safiya before him and not the other twin as he expected.
“ In truth, finding her is of little consequence to me. I am far more concerned for your wellbeing,” Sutekh affirmed as he graciously accepted her offer to search for the other Haikkadads together, “ It’s not safe for a noblewoman like yourself to traverse the crowds alone. The crowd can be a bit… stiffling once the procession is underway.” As soon as the Pharaoh and his wife had moved out of the square it was likely that the two of them would be swept up in the crowds as the parade moved from temple to temple. This wasn’t that much of a problem for Sutekh as he could handle himself in such a chaotic environment, but a pretty, nubile noble girl? He wouldn’t have been surprised if disaster struck even if she was the headstrong Safiya. At least now they could look out for each other if things got too chaotic for just one of them to handle.
As the two of them began maneuvering through the crowd, keeping an eye out for any of her relatives, the fact that the girl was alone did beg a certain question… “ Forgive my impertinence, but why were you and your sister parted in the first place? Knowing your sister, I doubt she would want to be separated from you during such an event?” A curious expression crossed his face as he continued the game, trying to see if he could goad the girl into revealing more information about who she was. Hopefully, this wasn’t a game at all and the girl was just merely forgetful in her introductions.
But if not, Sutekh was curious to see how far the game would go and how long it would take for him to identify the twin before him…
Sutekh was relieved when the Haikkaddad girl didn’t seem to judge him too harshly when he approached. The Bastard Prince visibly relaxed at this revelation, grateful that he had been, thus far, spared from another humiliation. Though, truthfully, he probably should have expected the young woman to be receptive to his presence. Neither twin had ever struck him as being overly-fond of the gossip circuits. Not while Safiya was assertive and bold, seemingly placing herself above such ‘lowly’ thing as rumors. Her mirror half was cut from a similar cloth, but her more reserved nature lent to Sameera’s general disinterest in the whole activity. She actually reminded the former Sheifa heir as Nenet in that respect…
He tried to shake the thoughts about his former family out of his head before they fully crept in. It would do him no good to let his mind drift here -- especially as the wounds that had formed from the separation and silence from his baby sister hadn’t even come close to healing.
Instead, the young man tried to refocus his efforts on narrowing down the identity of the noblewoman before him. She had (annoyingly) neglected to state which of the twins she was when he had tried to gently inquire about the delicate subject. He was pretty sure that the girls would not be fond of being mistaken for the other and Sutekh didn’t want to run the risk of inciting their wrath if this assumption was correct. A small scowl formed on his face as he thought over this conundrum. His mind already leaping to the conclusion that she was playing some sort of game with him. As if she could get Sutekh to guess which of the twins she was.
If this was right, then the girl before him was most certainly Safiya. After all, her sister was far too reserved to initiate this sort of thing. However, it was also entirely possible that she had just merely neglected to catch his silent question. Perhaps that would mean that she was Sameera?... Though, maybe this was Safiya, purposely trying to trick Sutekh into thinking that she was her more oblivious sister?...
Good gods, how did Sirdar Narmer keep track of them?
“ Well it is not my first Opet Festival,” Sutekh responded with a pained grin, trying to set the Haikkadad girl at ease while she approached a rather touchy topic for the new Prince. For the first twenty-four years of his life, Sutekh had been the heir to one of the more prominent Heis here in Thebes. It would be sacrilege if the Sheifa were not present for the festivities and so Sutekh had been following those covered statues since before he could walk properly. It was so ingrained in him that he had to present for this event that he couldn’t bear remaining in Cairo as Hatshepsut and her husband traveled down the Nile to his former home. The trouble he had gone through for him to arrange being here had been well worth it --considering the sheer amount of anxiety and stress that he would have suffered from if he remained in the Evening Star Palace.
That desire to be a good Sheifa was still strong in him, even after everything that happened.
Yet, the younger woman was right. As familiar as the Beautiful Feast was to him, it was overwhelmingly foreign too. Thebes was no longer his home and in many ways, he was not welcomed here. Not when the majority of the people likely saw him as the cause of the scandal that rocked the H’Sheifa. (He may not have done anything wrong, but the Bastard Prince had no doubts that he would be blamed anyway.) Sutekh was not welcome to take his usual place beside his siblings nor was it wise for him to travel through the procession with his half-sister. This was the first Opet festival where he was a stranger. Never before had he felt like he didn’t belong.
“ But yes, I haven’t been to one quite like this before. Perhaps we can try to navigate it together?” He asked with a light chuckle as he offered her his arm to hold as any good nobleman would do. This was something that he never would have done as the Sheifa heir and truthfully? He was a little stunned that he was being so forward as well -- especially as Safiya (or Sameera) was seemingly unaccompanied by any other relative. However, these were different times and Sutekh was a different person. He may struggle to convince himself of the finality of his new living conditions, but he was a Prince of Egypt now. Sutekh could do practically anything that he wished with no consequences. Sirdar Narmer could worry later about the implications of his young niece being seen so publicly with a disgraced bastard, but it wasn’t like he was going to cause a fuss given that Sutekh had royal blood flowing through his veins.
Plus, Sirdar Narmer wouldn’t need to worry too greatly. Sutekh was not his brother or brother-in-law. He was not asking to spend the day with the mystery twin because he had nefarious intentions. In truth, Sutekh was just lonely. He was homesick for the life he once had and the boy struggled to trust the few kind faces that had been presented to him. The other girl seemed to be just as lost as him and regardless if she was Sameera or Safiya, Sutekh had never had an issue with either twin. Perhaps she could help him forget the miserable cloud that hung over him and he could still enjoy this beloved festival?
It was then that the games continued for the poor confused prince and the mystery girl. When she asked if Sutekh was looking for her mirror image, he couldn’t help lifting an eyebrow and quipping back, “ Should I?” Although the words were terse, his tone made it clear that he was merely playing along, making it clear that he still had no idea whether she was Safiya or Sameera. In truth, Sutekh didn’t have much of a preference between the two girls. If he had to choose, he’d probably go with Sameera as the elder twin’s reputation alone reminded him too much of Nef and Nia. Those two had given him so much strife growing up that Sutekh was not eager to spend time with other versions of him.
Little did he know that it was Safiya before him and not the other twin as he expected.
“ In truth, finding her is of little consequence to me. I am far more concerned for your wellbeing,” Sutekh affirmed as he graciously accepted her offer to search for the other Haikkadads together, “ It’s not safe for a noblewoman like yourself to traverse the crowds alone. The crowd can be a bit… stiffling once the procession is underway.” As soon as the Pharaoh and his wife had moved out of the square it was likely that the two of them would be swept up in the crowds as the parade moved from temple to temple. This wasn’t that much of a problem for Sutekh as he could handle himself in such a chaotic environment, but a pretty, nubile noble girl? He wouldn’t have been surprised if disaster struck even if she was the headstrong Safiya. At least now they could look out for each other if things got too chaotic for just one of them to handle.
As the two of them began maneuvering through the crowd, keeping an eye out for any of her relatives, the fact that the girl was alone did beg a certain question… “ Forgive my impertinence, but why were you and your sister parted in the first place? Knowing your sister, I doubt she would want to be separated from you during such an event?” A curious expression crossed his face as he continued the game, trying to see if he could goad the girl into revealing more information about who she was. Hopefully, this wasn’t a game at all and the girl was just merely forgetful in her introductions.
But if not, Sutekh was curious to see how far the game would go and how long it would take for him to identify the twin before him…
They didn't like to be mistaken for each other, but that didn't actually prevent them from being delighted when it managed to confuse those around them. It had been amusing as children to play the games of who am I? with their family, the only one who had never been taken in had been their mother. Now they were young women and they had learned about the options of a wider audience but it was lesser now, and the amusement only came to them from time to time and often unplanned.
Generally, though they preferred to claim their own identities, the sign perhaps that they were growing up as much as they were just changing from the young girls that they had been "Well, the first time is always special. So, I would love to accompany, that way I won't look so terribly lost, hmm?!" Safiya didn't mind that he had been able to tease him slightly back but that was the sort of thing that she was pretty well known for being the case. Safiya was not the sort to be ashamed by her character or the playful nature that underlay it all. She wanted to be able to celebrate being alive and all that came with it.
While life was serious of late, it didn't alter her own decision to try and locate the joy in life and seize hold of as much of it as possible.
"I don't know, would you like to be? We can try together and wander through it all wide-eyed and surprised - it might start a new trend, would you like that?" she suggested. Not really trying to hide her identity and as he had not asked to go after her sister, it seemed that it wasn't Sameera that he was looking for, which suited her just fine as she would like to spend time with Sutekh and see what he had to say and do. Then she could share it with her sister later on when they were catching up.
Safiya shrugged "We're not joined at the hip. She wanted to find drinks and saw one of her friends. I was distracted - these things happen, doesn't it happen to you? Getting separated at parties?" she asked him, coming up close and then reaching to pick up his hand as she attempted to take his arm.
"With that in mind we should stick close and hold on, what do you say?" she asked him brightly.
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They didn't like to be mistaken for each other, but that didn't actually prevent them from being delighted when it managed to confuse those around them. It had been amusing as children to play the games of who am I? with their family, the only one who had never been taken in had been their mother. Now they were young women and they had learned about the options of a wider audience but it was lesser now, and the amusement only came to them from time to time and often unplanned.
Generally, though they preferred to claim their own identities, the sign perhaps that they were growing up as much as they were just changing from the young girls that they had been "Well, the first time is always special. So, I would love to accompany, that way I won't look so terribly lost, hmm?!" Safiya didn't mind that he had been able to tease him slightly back but that was the sort of thing that she was pretty well known for being the case. Safiya was not the sort to be ashamed by her character or the playful nature that underlay it all. She wanted to be able to celebrate being alive and all that came with it.
While life was serious of late, it didn't alter her own decision to try and locate the joy in life and seize hold of as much of it as possible.
"I don't know, would you like to be? We can try together and wander through it all wide-eyed and surprised - it might start a new trend, would you like that?" she suggested. Not really trying to hide her identity and as he had not asked to go after her sister, it seemed that it wasn't Sameera that he was looking for, which suited her just fine as she would like to spend time with Sutekh and see what he had to say and do. Then she could share it with her sister later on when they were catching up.
Safiya shrugged "We're not joined at the hip. She wanted to find drinks and saw one of her friends. I was distracted - these things happen, doesn't it happen to you? Getting separated at parties?" she asked him, coming up close and then reaching to pick up his hand as she attempted to take his arm.
"With that in mind we should stick close and hold on, what do you say?" she asked him brightly.
They didn't like to be mistaken for each other, but that didn't actually prevent them from being delighted when it managed to confuse those around them. It had been amusing as children to play the games of who am I? with their family, the only one who had never been taken in had been their mother. Now they were young women and they had learned about the options of a wider audience but it was lesser now, and the amusement only came to them from time to time and often unplanned.
Generally, though they preferred to claim their own identities, the sign perhaps that they were growing up as much as they were just changing from the young girls that they had been "Well, the first time is always special. So, I would love to accompany, that way I won't look so terribly lost, hmm?!" Safiya didn't mind that he had been able to tease him slightly back but that was the sort of thing that she was pretty well known for being the case. Safiya was not the sort to be ashamed by her character or the playful nature that underlay it all. She wanted to be able to celebrate being alive and all that came with it.
While life was serious of late, it didn't alter her own decision to try and locate the joy in life and seize hold of as much of it as possible.
"I don't know, would you like to be? We can try together and wander through it all wide-eyed and surprised - it might start a new trend, would you like that?" she suggested. Not really trying to hide her identity and as he had not asked to go after her sister, it seemed that it wasn't Sameera that he was looking for, which suited her just fine as she would like to spend time with Sutekh and see what he had to say and do. Then she could share it with her sister later on when they were catching up.
Safiya shrugged "We're not joined at the hip. She wanted to find drinks and saw one of her friends. I was distracted - these things happen, doesn't it happen to you? Getting separated at parties?" she asked him, coming up close and then reaching to pick up his hand as she attempted to take his arm.
"With that in mind we should stick close and hold on, what do you say?" she asked him brightly.
Neena wasn't about to let such a thing rest just because a whole lot of people wanted to be sadistic and support such a heathenistic manner of punishment. A woman well-travelled, indeed, it made Neena not only aware of the laws of multiple kingdoms but also the hypocrisy or nonsense of them. Had she been raised solely in one kingdom, it was likely that she would place faith and trust in the judiciary system of that kingdom. Yet with exposure to other ways of handling law and order, she was perhaps more objective than those that were native. Such knowledge was dangerous and occasionally prompted her to step in where she should not.
Normally, Neena was happy to permit the comings and goings of those around her - to witness the lives and culture into which she had stepped, without hindrance, influence or persuasion. It was part of being a wanderer. You knew that anything you attempted to do was perhaps pointless and that you had to permit those around you to continue on their way. They were, after all, the ones who had to continue living in the world of their creation after any visitor or intruder continued their wanderings elsewhere.
Yet, when it came to thinks that were particularly violent - decisions that would be nonsensical in terms of hindering a man or boy from feeding his family, it was hard not to speak out; not to attempt to do something. Neena was a compassionate and logical person and not entirely great at holding her tongue. So, spontaneous involvement when it came to the harshest of punishments were sometimes something that she could not resist.
By the time Kreios had caught up to her, Neena had all but given up. Still attempting to break through the crowd in order to speak with someone in charge - to try and sway their opinion towards a more lenient punishment - there was a small voice in her head that new the truth of such potentials. That she wouldn't be able to make a difference in the matter.
Distracted by such a depressing thought and by her continuing steps through the audience of such carryings of justice, she was surprised when two large hands wrapped around her waist and were hauling her around and up.
With a yelp, Neena found herself suddenly over the shoulder of Kreios - her breasts against his back and her bum in the air over his shoulder. She kicked initially, making a skwark of protest, and then found herself surprised when (despite the power in her legs) she was unable to even set him off balance.
All she succeeded in doing was sending her arse higher and her head lower down his back so that she suddenly had a close up of the poison-peddler's backside.
Knowing, however, that her frustration was not truly at Kreios, Neena cooled quickly and simply permitted him to haul her around like a sack of vegetables and placed bracing hands on the small of his back so that her nose didn't bash into his bum.
"I swear if you pass wind right now, Grumps, we are having words." She grumbled, in her own miniature form of protest as he carried her back towards the docks and the ship.
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Neena wasn't about to let such a thing rest just because a whole lot of people wanted to be sadistic and support such a heathenistic manner of punishment. A woman well-travelled, indeed, it made Neena not only aware of the laws of multiple kingdoms but also the hypocrisy or nonsense of them. Had she been raised solely in one kingdom, it was likely that she would place faith and trust in the judiciary system of that kingdom. Yet with exposure to other ways of handling law and order, she was perhaps more objective than those that were native. Such knowledge was dangerous and occasionally prompted her to step in where she should not.
Normally, Neena was happy to permit the comings and goings of those around her - to witness the lives and culture into which she had stepped, without hindrance, influence or persuasion. It was part of being a wanderer. You knew that anything you attempted to do was perhaps pointless and that you had to permit those around you to continue on their way. They were, after all, the ones who had to continue living in the world of their creation after any visitor or intruder continued their wanderings elsewhere.
Yet, when it came to thinks that were particularly violent - decisions that would be nonsensical in terms of hindering a man or boy from feeding his family, it was hard not to speak out; not to attempt to do something. Neena was a compassionate and logical person and not entirely great at holding her tongue. So, spontaneous involvement when it came to the harshest of punishments were sometimes something that she could not resist.
By the time Kreios had caught up to her, Neena had all but given up. Still attempting to break through the crowd in order to speak with someone in charge - to try and sway their opinion towards a more lenient punishment - there was a small voice in her head that new the truth of such potentials. That she wouldn't be able to make a difference in the matter.
Distracted by such a depressing thought and by her continuing steps through the audience of such carryings of justice, she was surprised when two large hands wrapped around her waist and were hauling her around and up.
With a yelp, Neena found herself suddenly over the shoulder of Kreios - her breasts against his back and her bum in the air over his shoulder. She kicked initially, making a skwark of protest, and then found herself surprised when (despite the power in her legs) she was unable to even set him off balance.
All she succeeded in doing was sending her arse higher and her head lower down his back so that she suddenly had a close up of the poison-peddler's backside.
Knowing, however, that her frustration was not truly at Kreios, Neena cooled quickly and simply permitted him to haul her around like a sack of vegetables and placed bracing hands on the small of his back so that her nose didn't bash into his bum.
"I swear if you pass wind right now, Grumps, we are having words." She grumbled, in her own miniature form of protest as he carried her back towards the docks and the ship.
Neena wasn't about to let such a thing rest just because a whole lot of people wanted to be sadistic and support such a heathenistic manner of punishment. A woman well-travelled, indeed, it made Neena not only aware of the laws of multiple kingdoms but also the hypocrisy or nonsense of them. Had she been raised solely in one kingdom, it was likely that she would place faith and trust in the judiciary system of that kingdom. Yet with exposure to other ways of handling law and order, she was perhaps more objective than those that were native. Such knowledge was dangerous and occasionally prompted her to step in where she should not.
Normally, Neena was happy to permit the comings and goings of those around her - to witness the lives and culture into which she had stepped, without hindrance, influence or persuasion. It was part of being a wanderer. You knew that anything you attempted to do was perhaps pointless and that you had to permit those around you to continue on their way. They were, after all, the ones who had to continue living in the world of their creation after any visitor or intruder continued their wanderings elsewhere.
Yet, when it came to thinks that were particularly violent - decisions that would be nonsensical in terms of hindering a man or boy from feeding his family, it was hard not to speak out; not to attempt to do something. Neena was a compassionate and logical person and not entirely great at holding her tongue. So, spontaneous involvement when it came to the harshest of punishments were sometimes something that she could not resist.
By the time Kreios had caught up to her, Neena had all but given up. Still attempting to break through the crowd in order to speak with someone in charge - to try and sway their opinion towards a more lenient punishment - there was a small voice in her head that new the truth of such potentials. That she wouldn't be able to make a difference in the matter.
Distracted by such a depressing thought and by her continuing steps through the audience of such carryings of justice, she was surprised when two large hands wrapped around her waist and were hauling her around and up.
With a yelp, Neena found herself suddenly over the shoulder of Kreios - her breasts against his back and her bum in the air over his shoulder. She kicked initially, making a skwark of protest, and then found herself surprised when (despite the power in her legs) she was unable to even set him off balance.
All she succeeded in doing was sending her arse higher and her head lower down his back so that she suddenly had a close up of the poison-peddler's backside.
Knowing, however, that her frustration was not truly at Kreios, Neena cooled quickly and simply permitted him to haul her around like a sack of vegetables and placed bracing hands on the small of his back so that her nose didn't bash into his bum.
"I swear if you pass wind right now, Grumps, we are having words." She grumbled, in her own miniature form of protest as he carried her back towards the docks and the ship.