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She'd made the summons of her own accord, for Hena need not be involved in this particular discussion with his sister. There was no animosity between the two, as far as she could tell, but with the way their first meeting had gone... suffice it to say there was the need for them to become more familiar on a personal level. It stood to reason that Nia was aware of the purchase her brother had made, the lavish furnishings and the servants that now waited on her and perhaps, the wrong impression could be made.
Anastasia reveled in the finery of the world. She kept her jewels nearby always, craving their proximity in order to curb the eternal thirst for more that still lived within her all of these years later. She hadn't felt the need to go out and perform, instead shifting the furniture of her new home to her liking. She furnished the door with a peculiar device she'd heard tell of from the merchants. A system of tumblers and pins that opened with a wooden 'key', it seemed a vast improvement over letting anyone who knew the location of her home just... stumble in. She'd also moved the painting at the entrance, a beautiful piece that depicted her as the falling star landing into the life of a handsome noble, into the commons so that she might gaze upon it whenever she chose.
All in all, she was satisfied with the changes, and knew that soon the particular itch within her to venture outside of this place would arrive. So, before that, she needed to meet with the noble woman. In the centre of the commons, she'd placed a clay saucer at the top of as of embers. She cultivated them carefully, having done this several times with Hena since their first foray into the opium den. She did not yet partake, for the rich substance was meant to be an offering, a means for Neithotep and Ana to bond much in the same way as one might bond with a sister. She wanted nothing more than to correct assumptions and cultivate a relationship.
It simply wouldn't do for Neithotep to despise me... she thought on as she moved from the commons to her own bedroom. She'd carefully placed all of her clothes in a dedicated wardrobe, fashioned of sleek wood that surely hadn't come cheap the the Lord Akhenaten. Truly, this place was a marvel, a slice of the life that the lord himself lived in. It was strange to her, that he spent so much more time in Cairo than he did in Thebes, but she'd never asked him why. She figured it was the proximity to the better taverns and opium dens, and hoped that Neithotep was of a similar sensibility and need not travel too far to find her.
Anastasia allowed a servant to assist her in dressing, taking not to the Egyptian styles of relative nudity while in the comforts of her own home. Anastasia was not a modest woman, but rather, she craved the comforts of rich linens and fine silks as they draped over her body. She adorned herself in a kalasiris, tied at the waist with a fine silken sash that brought the garment to her abdomen. Upon her throat she wore her sapphire pendant, dipped in pristine silver that matched the links that wrapped within her hair. Of course, she wanted to look her best for the Sheifa woman. Once properly dressed for the occasion, she made her way into her commons, letting her weight settle into a a kline, one eye on the door as the other found admiration in the painting she treasured so deeply.
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Anastasia couldn't help but be nervous.
She'd made the summons of her own accord, for Hena need not be involved in this particular discussion with his sister. There was no animosity between the two, as far as she could tell, but with the way their first meeting had gone... suffice it to say there was the need for them to become more familiar on a personal level. It stood to reason that Nia was aware of the purchase her brother had made, the lavish furnishings and the servants that now waited on her and perhaps, the wrong impression could be made.
Anastasia reveled in the finery of the world. She kept her jewels nearby always, craving their proximity in order to curb the eternal thirst for more that still lived within her all of these years later. She hadn't felt the need to go out and perform, instead shifting the furniture of her new home to her liking. She furnished the door with a peculiar device she'd heard tell of from the merchants. A system of tumblers and pins that opened with a wooden 'key', it seemed a vast improvement over letting anyone who knew the location of her home just... stumble in. She'd also moved the painting at the entrance, a beautiful piece that depicted her as the falling star landing into the life of a handsome noble, into the commons so that she might gaze upon it whenever she chose.
All in all, she was satisfied with the changes, and knew that soon the particular itch within her to venture outside of this place would arrive. So, before that, she needed to meet with the noble woman. In the centre of the commons, she'd placed a clay saucer at the top of as of embers. She cultivated them carefully, having done this several times with Hena since their first foray into the opium den. She did not yet partake, for the rich substance was meant to be an offering, a means for Neithotep and Ana to bond much in the same way as one might bond with a sister. She wanted nothing more than to correct assumptions and cultivate a relationship.
It simply wouldn't do for Neithotep to despise me... she thought on as she moved from the commons to her own bedroom. She'd carefully placed all of her clothes in a dedicated wardrobe, fashioned of sleek wood that surely hadn't come cheap the the Lord Akhenaten. Truly, this place was a marvel, a slice of the life that the lord himself lived in. It was strange to her, that he spent so much more time in Cairo than he did in Thebes, but she'd never asked him why. She figured it was the proximity to the better taverns and opium dens, and hoped that Neithotep was of a similar sensibility and need not travel too far to find her.
Anastasia allowed a servant to assist her in dressing, taking not to the Egyptian styles of relative nudity while in the comforts of her own home. Anastasia was not a modest woman, but rather, she craved the comforts of rich linens and fine silks as they draped over her body. She adorned herself in a kalasiris, tied at the waist with a fine silken sash that brought the garment to her abdomen. Upon her throat she wore her sapphire pendant, dipped in pristine silver that matched the links that wrapped within her hair. Of course, she wanted to look her best for the Sheifa woman. Once properly dressed for the occasion, she made her way into her commons, letting her weight settle into a a kline, one eye on the door as the other found admiration in the painting she treasured so deeply.
Anastasia couldn't help but be nervous.
She'd made the summons of her own accord, for Hena need not be involved in this particular discussion with his sister. There was no animosity between the two, as far as she could tell, but with the way their first meeting had gone... suffice it to say there was the need for them to become more familiar on a personal level. It stood to reason that Nia was aware of the purchase her brother had made, the lavish furnishings and the servants that now waited on her and perhaps, the wrong impression could be made.
Anastasia reveled in the finery of the world. She kept her jewels nearby always, craving their proximity in order to curb the eternal thirst for more that still lived within her all of these years later. She hadn't felt the need to go out and perform, instead shifting the furniture of her new home to her liking. She furnished the door with a peculiar device she'd heard tell of from the merchants. A system of tumblers and pins that opened with a wooden 'key', it seemed a vast improvement over letting anyone who knew the location of her home just... stumble in. She'd also moved the painting at the entrance, a beautiful piece that depicted her as the falling star landing into the life of a handsome noble, into the commons so that she might gaze upon it whenever she chose.
All in all, she was satisfied with the changes, and knew that soon the particular itch within her to venture outside of this place would arrive. So, before that, she needed to meet with the noble woman. In the centre of the commons, she'd placed a clay saucer at the top of as of embers. She cultivated them carefully, having done this several times with Hena since their first foray into the opium den. She did not yet partake, for the rich substance was meant to be an offering, a means for Neithotep and Ana to bond much in the same way as one might bond with a sister. She wanted nothing more than to correct assumptions and cultivate a relationship.
It simply wouldn't do for Neithotep to despise me... she thought on as she moved from the commons to her own bedroom. She'd carefully placed all of her clothes in a dedicated wardrobe, fashioned of sleek wood that surely hadn't come cheap the the Lord Akhenaten. Truly, this place was a marvel, a slice of the life that the lord himself lived in. It was strange to her, that he spent so much more time in Cairo than he did in Thebes, but she'd never asked him why. She figured it was the proximity to the better taverns and opium dens, and hoped that Neithotep was of a similar sensibility and need not travel too far to find her.
Anastasia allowed a servant to assist her in dressing, taking not to the Egyptian styles of relative nudity while in the comforts of her own home. Anastasia was not a modest woman, but rather, she craved the comforts of rich linens and fine silks as they draped over her body. She adorned herself in a kalasiris, tied at the waist with a fine silken sash that brought the garment to her abdomen. Upon her throat she wore her sapphire pendant, dipped in pristine silver that matched the links that wrapped within her hair. Of course, she wanted to look her best for the Sheifa woman. Once properly dressed for the occasion, she made her way into her commons, letting her weight settle into a a kline, one eye on the door as the other found admiration in the painting she treasured so deeply.
When Neithotep received the invitation from her brother’s mistress, she was mildly surprised to find the woman reaching out to her. Nia never deigned to become very close to Hena’s conquests—they tended to last about as long as her own, if that long. As surprised as she was to get the invitation, she was even more shocked at the length of time this one had stuck around. After learning her brother bought this Anastasia a house in the Ghani district, one so close to their own, she started to reconsider how he must feel about her.
Was her baby brother in love? She could not recall him every truly being so, and to see him so enamored of a Greek commoner was even more unusual. Hena was a man who reveled in his wealth and status, and while he might deign to bed commoners and whores, he never formed true attachments to them. What was so special about this one?
To say Nia was overprotective of her youngest sibling was an understatement. Both so largely ignored by most of their family for so many years, they came to rely on each other with the sort of devotion that bordered on unhealthy. In addition to being his closest friend, Nia was nearly Hena’s mother for all the care she showed him, so naturally, she was suspicious of anyone who sought their way into her brother’s heart. Their Hei was fabulously wealthy—many had sought ties to them for that alone. Was Anastasia like this, as well?
Well, apparently, she now had the opportunity to find out. She had no doubt the foreign bard knew of her closeness to Hena, and that was likely the reason for her reaching out now. Did she seek to win Nia’s favor? To get her blessing on their unexpected relationship? Nia still wasn’t sure how she felt about the whole thing, but at least this was a way to start finding out.
Garbing herself in a black linen kalasiris accented with a gold and lapis lazuli collar, Nia left her hair free to fall around her shoulders. Securing the palm frond armband around her arm that matched her brother’s (just a subtle way of reminding Anastasia of their closeness), she slipped her feet into golden sandals and brightened her lips with a touch of carmine. Satisfied with her appearance that both showed her status and yet lacked the ostentation she could have affected, she nodded to the looking glass and headed down the stairs. Even without ten pounds of adornment, Nia was confident in her beauty. While she didn’t need to necessarily impress her brother’s mistress, she didn’t mean to underwhelm her either.
It was a very short walk to the home where the bard now resided, the location clearly one of Hena’s choice. That alone spoke volumes of the way he felt about this woman, that he sought to keep her so close and in such luxury. Stopping outside the door, Nia knocked politely and stepped back to wait, nose twitching delicately at the scent of the smoke within.
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When Neithotep received the invitation from her brother’s mistress, she was mildly surprised to find the woman reaching out to her. Nia never deigned to become very close to Hena’s conquests—they tended to last about as long as her own, if that long. As surprised as she was to get the invitation, she was even more shocked at the length of time this one had stuck around. After learning her brother bought this Anastasia a house in the Ghani district, one so close to their own, she started to reconsider how he must feel about her.
Was her baby brother in love? She could not recall him every truly being so, and to see him so enamored of a Greek commoner was even more unusual. Hena was a man who reveled in his wealth and status, and while he might deign to bed commoners and whores, he never formed true attachments to them. What was so special about this one?
To say Nia was overprotective of her youngest sibling was an understatement. Both so largely ignored by most of their family for so many years, they came to rely on each other with the sort of devotion that bordered on unhealthy. In addition to being his closest friend, Nia was nearly Hena’s mother for all the care she showed him, so naturally, she was suspicious of anyone who sought their way into her brother’s heart. Their Hei was fabulously wealthy—many had sought ties to them for that alone. Was Anastasia like this, as well?
Well, apparently, she now had the opportunity to find out. She had no doubt the foreign bard knew of her closeness to Hena, and that was likely the reason for her reaching out now. Did she seek to win Nia’s favor? To get her blessing on their unexpected relationship? Nia still wasn’t sure how she felt about the whole thing, but at least this was a way to start finding out.
Garbing herself in a black linen kalasiris accented with a gold and lapis lazuli collar, Nia left her hair free to fall around her shoulders. Securing the palm frond armband around her arm that matched her brother’s (just a subtle way of reminding Anastasia of their closeness), she slipped her feet into golden sandals and brightened her lips with a touch of carmine. Satisfied with her appearance that both showed her status and yet lacked the ostentation she could have affected, she nodded to the looking glass and headed down the stairs. Even without ten pounds of adornment, Nia was confident in her beauty. While she didn’t need to necessarily impress her brother’s mistress, she didn’t mean to underwhelm her either.
It was a very short walk to the home where the bard now resided, the location clearly one of Hena’s choice. That alone spoke volumes of the way he felt about this woman, that he sought to keep her so close and in such luxury. Stopping outside the door, Nia knocked politely and stepped back to wait, nose twitching delicately at the scent of the smoke within.
When Neithotep received the invitation from her brother’s mistress, she was mildly surprised to find the woman reaching out to her. Nia never deigned to become very close to Hena’s conquests—they tended to last about as long as her own, if that long. As surprised as she was to get the invitation, she was even more shocked at the length of time this one had stuck around. After learning her brother bought this Anastasia a house in the Ghani district, one so close to their own, she started to reconsider how he must feel about her.
Was her baby brother in love? She could not recall him every truly being so, and to see him so enamored of a Greek commoner was even more unusual. Hena was a man who reveled in his wealth and status, and while he might deign to bed commoners and whores, he never formed true attachments to them. What was so special about this one?
To say Nia was overprotective of her youngest sibling was an understatement. Both so largely ignored by most of their family for so many years, they came to rely on each other with the sort of devotion that bordered on unhealthy. In addition to being his closest friend, Nia was nearly Hena’s mother for all the care she showed him, so naturally, she was suspicious of anyone who sought their way into her brother’s heart. Their Hei was fabulously wealthy—many had sought ties to them for that alone. Was Anastasia like this, as well?
Well, apparently, she now had the opportunity to find out. She had no doubt the foreign bard knew of her closeness to Hena, and that was likely the reason for her reaching out now. Did she seek to win Nia’s favor? To get her blessing on their unexpected relationship? Nia still wasn’t sure how she felt about the whole thing, but at least this was a way to start finding out.
Garbing herself in a black linen kalasiris accented with a gold and lapis lazuli collar, Nia left her hair free to fall around her shoulders. Securing the palm frond armband around her arm that matched her brother’s (just a subtle way of reminding Anastasia of their closeness), she slipped her feet into golden sandals and brightened her lips with a touch of carmine. Satisfied with her appearance that both showed her status and yet lacked the ostentation she could have affected, she nodded to the looking glass and headed down the stairs. Even without ten pounds of adornment, Nia was confident in her beauty. While she didn’t need to necessarily impress her brother’s mistress, she didn’t mean to underwhelm her either.
It was a very short walk to the home where the bard now resided, the location clearly one of Hena’s choice. That alone spoke volumes of the way he felt about this woman, that he sought to keep her so close and in such luxury. Stopping outside the door, Nia knocked politely and stepped back to wait, nose twitching delicately at the scent of the smoke within.
Anastasia wasn't kept waiting for long, but the apprehension of the moment made it carry for an age. She wondered if she'd forgotten, then dreaded the idea of her remembering. The idea of meeting her lover's sister alone wasn't one she was looking forward to. But, she'd made the decision regardless. She wanted to enjoy both of their companies, in different ways. She wanted to... not be seen quite as family, because that wasn't what Anastasia was, but as a friend. As a confidante. Anastasia of the Fallen Star felt things stirring within her, emotions that she'd hoped left abandoned in Greece.
Anastasia had come to Egypt seeking an escape from the troubles of her home country and yet... the conflicts of the heart replaced the conflicts of her deepest nature. Could Anastasia persist on without hurting her lover? Could she bring herself closer to him, inexorably so, and still be free? The questions were legion as they set within her thoughts, and so tempted was she to partake in the opium to forget all of it, to let herself languish in the silken nothingness of the greatest heights of ecstasy. And yet, she abstained. Not a drop of wine poured into her mouth just yet, either, though she'd enlisted the help of a servant in gathering everything that could be offered to the Sheifa sister.
The comforts of home should be offered to her, for this is her brother's purchase, even if it is my sanctum.
Then, Ana heard the knock from the distance, her attention having drifted from the painting over to the smoldering coals of opium. Hurriedly, she asked a servant to change them over as she went to personally answer the door. She heard the satisfying click of the wooden tumblers falling out of place before she pulled back and offered her widest possible smile. It came so naturally upon her lips as she stepped aside to offer Neithotep access into her home.
"Lady Neithotep, I'm so pleased that you accepted my invitation," she began, a cursory gaze studying the slightly younger woman's expression and the sort of care that she put into arranging her attire. She seemed prepared for anything, her attire not so ostentatious as to suspect she was going to court, but rich enough that Ana's attention was immediately drawn to the golden collar that set against her skin. She lingered her gaze a moment too long upon it, a subtle twitch of her fingertips as she reminded herself,
This is not a mark.
Years of uninhibited thievery had rendered Anastasia a keenly observant young woman, her mind unconsciously drawn to the finery she bathed herself in and the sort she could sell and bathe in the fortunes of her success. Anastasia did not need wealth, but she needed the satisfaction of scratching the itch, of plotting her means of obtaining reward, of stealing into one's pocket or their bed or their carriage and taking from it whatever she wanted. Neithotep was surely so easy to take from, a fragile noblewoman with naught a thought of danger on her mind.
Stop.
She made it clear in her mind, letting the thought of Akhenaten and the life she could make here with him. She felt the swell within her as she let his voice repeat the words in her mind.
I am asking you to remain in Egypt. To remain with me. To allow your heart to be tethered as mine is to you.
Anastasia clawed her way back to command of her thoughts, pushing the prince of thieves back into its hovel, sealing its doors and placing a lock in an effort to stall its escape.
"Welcome... Please make yourself comfortable," she said, motioning to the kline nearest to the smoldering coals.
"Lord Akhenaten," she started, doing her utmost to stop herself from calling him Hena. Surely, Nia knew that they were close, but would she grow possessive of the name? She didn't know how to approach this and figured that formality was the best way. "told me of his and your propensity for this. We've indulged in it a few times, as well. I was hoping, as an offering, that we could, as well? Not right now, but after we've said what I invited you here to say."
Then, she went out with it. She abandoned the pretense of caution as she admitted,
"I love your brother."
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Anastasia wasn't kept waiting for long, but the apprehension of the moment made it carry for an age. She wondered if she'd forgotten, then dreaded the idea of her remembering. The idea of meeting her lover's sister alone wasn't one she was looking forward to. But, she'd made the decision regardless. She wanted to enjoy both of their companies, in different ways. She wanted to... not be seen quite as family, because that wasn't what Anastasia was, but as a friend. As a confidante. Anastasia of the Fallen Star felt things stirring within her, emotions that she'd hoped left abandoned in Greece.
Anastasia had come to Egypt seeking an escape from the troubles of her home country and yet... the conflicts of the heart replaced the conflicts of her deepest nature. Could Anastasia persist on without hurting her lover? Could she bring herself closer to him, inexorably so, and still be free? The questions were legion as they set within her thoughts, and so tempted was she to partake in the opium to forget all of it, to let herself languish in the silken nothingness of the greatest heights of ecstasy. And yet, she abstained. Not a drop of wine poured into her mouth just yet, either, though she'd enlisted the help of a servant in gathering everything that could be offered to the Sheifa sister.
The comforts of home should be offered to her, for this is her brother's purchase, even if it is my sanctum.
Then, Ana heard the knock from the distance, her attention having drifted from the painting over to the smoldering coals of opium. Hurriedly, she asked a servant to change them over as she went to personally answer the door. She heard the satisfying click of the wooden tumblers falling out of place before she pulled back and offered her widest possible smile. It came so naturally upon her lips as she stepped aside to offer Neithotep access into her home.
"Lady Neithotep, I'm so pleased that you accepted my invitation," she began, a cursory gaze studying the slightly younger woman's expression and the sort of care that she put into arranging her attire. She seemed prepared for anything, her attire not so ostentatious as to suspect she was going to court, but rich enough that Ana's attention was immediately drawn to the golden collar that set against her skin. She lingered her gaze a moment too long upon it, a subtle twitch of her fingertips as she reminded herself,
This is not a mark.
Years of uninhibited thievery had rendered Anastasia a keenly observant young woman, her mind unconsciously drawn to the finery she bathed herself in and the sort she could sell and bathe in the fortunes of her success. Anastasia did not need wealth, but she needed the satisfaction of scratching the itch, of plotting her means of obtaining reward, of stealing into one's pocket or their bed or their carriage and taking from it whatever she wanted. Neithotep was surely so easy to take from, a fragile noblewoman with naught a thought of danger on her mind.
Stop.
She made it clear in her mind, letting the thought of Akhenaten and the life she could make here with him. She felt the swell within her as she let his voice repeat the words in her mind.
I am asking you to remain in Egypt. To remain with me. To allow your heart to be tethered as mine is to you.
Anastasia clawed her way back to command of her thoughts, pushing the prince of thieves back into its hovel, sealing its doors and placing a lock in an effort to stall its escape.
"Welcome... Please make yourself comfortable," she said, motioning to the kline nearest to the smoldering coals.
"Lord Akhenaten," she started, doing her utmost to stop herself from calling him Hena. Surely, Nia knew that they were close, but would she grow possessive of the name? She didn't know how to approach this and figured that formality was the best way. "told me of his and your propensity for this. We've indulged in it a few times, as well. I was hoping, as an offering, that we could, as well? Not right now, but after we've said what I invited you here to say."
Then, she went out with it. She abandoned the pretense of caution as she admitted,
"I love your brother."
Anastasia wasn't kept waiting for long, but the apprehension of the moment made it carry for an age. She wondered if she'd forgotten, then dreaded the idea of her remembering. The idea of meeting her lover's sister alone wasn't one she was looking forward to. But, she'd made the decision regardless. She wanted to enjoy both of their companies, in different ways. She wanted to... not be seen quite as family, because that wasn't what Anastasia was, but as a friend. As a confidante. Anastasia of the Fallen Star felt things stirring within her, emotions that she'd hoped left abandoned in Greece.
Anastasia had come to Egypt seeking an escape from the troubles of her home country and yet... the conflicts of the heart replaced the conflicts of her deepest nature. Could Anastasia persist on without hurting her lover? Could she bring herself closer to him, inexorably so, and still be free? The questions were legion as they set within her thoughts, and so tempted was she to partake in the opium to forget all of it, to let herself languish in the silken nothingness of the greatest heights of ecstasy. And yet, she abstained. Not a drop of wine poured into her mouth just yet, either, though she'd enlisted the help of a servant in gathering everything that could be offered to the Sheifa sister.
The comforts of home should be offered to her, for this is her brother's purchase, even if it is my sanctum.
Then, Ana heard the knock from the distance, her attention having drifted from the painting over to the smoldering coals of opium. Hurriedly, she asked a servant to change them over as she went to personally answer the door. She heard the satisfying click of the wooden tumblers falling out of place before she pulled back and offered her widest possible smile. It came so naturally upon her lips as she stepped aside to offer Neithotep access into her home.
"Lady Neithotep, I'm so pleased that you accepted my invitation," she began, a cursory gaze studying the slightly younger woman's expression and the sort of care that she put into arranging her attire. She seemed prepared for anything, her attire not so ostentatious as to suspect she was going to court, but rich enough that Ana's attention was immediately drawn to the golden collar that set against her skin. She lingered her gaze a moment too long upon it, a subtle twitch of her fingertips as she reminded herself,
This is not a mark.
Years of uninhibited thievery had rendered Anastasia a keenly observant young woman, her mind unconsciously drawn to the finery she bathed herself in and the sort she could sell and bathe in the fortunes of her success. Anastasia did not need wealth, but she needed the satisfaction of scratching the itch, of plotting her means of obtaining reward, of stealing into one's pocket or their bed or their carriage and taking from it whatever she wanted. Neithotep was surely so easy to take from, a fragile noblewoman with naught a thought of danger on her mind.
Stop.
She made it clear in her mind, letting the thought of Akhenaten and the life she could make here with him. She felt the swell within her as she let his voice repeat the words in her mind.
I am asking you to remain in Egypt. To remain with me. To allow your heart to be tethered as mine is to you.
Anastasia clawed her way back to command of her thoughts, pushing the prince of thieves back into its hovel, sealing its doors and placing a lock in an effort to stall its escape.
"Welcome... Please make yourself comfortable," she said, motioning to the kline nearest to the smoldering coals.
"Lord Akhenaten," she started, doing her utmost to stop herself from calling him Hena. Surely, Nia knew that they were close, but would she grow possessive of the name? She didn't know how to approach this and figured that formality was the best way. "told me of his and your propensity for this. We've indulged in it a few times, as well. I was hoping, as an offering, that we could, as well? Not right now, but after we've said what I invited you here to say."
Then, she went out with it. She abandoned the pretense of caution as she admitted,
"I love your brother."
Welcomed inside by the woman who named herself a fallen star, Neithotep followed behind her with curious eyes trailing over the trappings of the house. There seemed to be a good mixture of décor from near and far, and she idly wondered how much of it Anastasia had acquired herself and how much had been provided by the generosity of her brother. Whatever it was, his mistress certainly wanted for nothing; as with anything Akhenaten financed, the home was the epitome of luxury. His feelings for the woman must run deeply indeed to outfit her in such a grandiose fashion.
Her attention was particularly drawn to the portrait dominating one of the walls of a falling star crashing down into the world of a handsome man. She thought the metaphor a bit heavy-handed, a sidelong gaze flicking toward Anastasia. What was it about this woman that drew his attention for such an ostentatious gesture? Was it not a bit suspect that she should call herself a celestial body rather than bear the truth of where she came from? What was this Anastasia hiding that she should obscure herself behind such tales of grandeur?
While Nia did not necessarily dislike her, she did remain suspicious of Ana. Afraid that her brother would be too easily manipulated by a beautiful and mysterious woman, she was reluctant to trust the intentions of the arm candy who had so quickly abandoned Hena in the disastrous jewel sale some months prior. Was she using him? Was this just a game to her, or did she mirror what Akhenaten so obviously felt for her?
However, Nia let none of this doubt show on her face, offering Ana a warm smile in response to her greeting. “Thank you for inviting me,” she replied as the woman led her further into the house and gestured for her to sit down. She sank down onto the kline and eyed the smoldering coals before turning to Ana, her smile deepening. “I’m sure my brother would be thrilled to know we are spending this time together. He speaks of you quite fondly.”
Was Anastasia nervous, she wondered? Nia thought she probably would be, were she in the foreign woman’s position. The closeness she and Hena shared was no secret, and she could only imagine how it must feel to be an outsider to such affection. Were Ana’s feelings genuine, Nia supposed she could tolerate her presence, perhaps even grow to like her. If it were not genuine, however…
“It would be my pleasure to share such indulgence with you,” she replied to Ana’s offer; after all, she’d smelled it outside. Opium was a particular vice of hers, an occasional pastime turned to addiction, particularly in the past couple months. The poppy haze was one of the only things that made life bearable, particularly after one of her dreaded late night sessions with the Pharaoh. Smoking it here now with her brother’s mistress would surely help to endear them to one another.
When Ana spoke again, it was as if she read Nia’s earlier thoughts, declaring her love for Hena in no uncertain terms. The noblewoman had expected more of an overture, more skirting around the subject before coming to the heart of it, but apparently the bard had other ideas. Nia’s brows rose in surprise at the sudden admission, though she gave no other outward reaction, at first. How did she feel about this? Truthfully, she wasn’t sure.
I love your brother.
Did she truly? Or were these words simply meant to wind her way into Neithotep’s good graces so she could continue with whatever scheme she’d used to ensnare her brother’s heart? However, after a moment of examining Ana’s face, she could find no hint of dishonesty, only a simple earnestness combined with a touch of anxiety. It was hard not to believe her, but gods knew Nia had been fooled before.
Finally, Nia smiled, even if she wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Hena is a very lovable man,” she replied with a soft laugh. “Though, many would disagree.” Tilting her head curiously, her gaze locked with Ana’s. Her voice was quieter, more serious as the smile slowly faded. “Does he love you?”
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Welcomed inside by the woman who named herself a fallen star, Neithotep followed behind her with curious eyes trailing over the trappings of the house. There seemed to be a good mixture of décor from near and far, and she idly wondered how much of it Anastasia had acquired herself and how much had been provided by the generosity of her brother. Whatever it was, his mistress certainly wanted for nothing; as with anything Akhenaten financed, the home was the epitome of luxury. His feelings for the woman must run deeply indeed to outfit her in such a grandiose fashion.
Her attention was particularly drawn to the portrait dominating one of the walls of a falling star crashing down into the world of a handsome man. She thought the metaphor a bit heavy-handed, a sidelong gaze flicking toward Anastasia. What was it about this woman that drew his attention for such an ostentatious gesture? Was it not a bit suspect that she should call herself a celestial body rather than bear the truth of where she came from? What was this Anastasia hiding that she should obscure herself behind such tales of grandeur?
While Nia did not necessarily dislike her, she did remain suspicious of Ana. Afraid that her brother would be too easily manipulated by a beautiful and mysterious woman, she was reluctant to trust the intentions of the arm candy who had so quickly abandoned Hena in the disastrous jewel sale some months prior. Was she using him? Was this just a game to her, or did she mirror what Akhenaten so obviously felt for her?
However, Nia let none of this doubt show on her face, offering Ana a warm smile in response to her greeting. “Thank you for inviting me,” she replied as the woman led her further into the house and gestured for her to sit down. She sank down onto the kline and eyed the smoldering coals before turning to Ana, her smile deepening. “I’m sure my brother would be thrilled to know we are spending this time together. He speaks of you quite fondly.”
Was Anastasia nervous, she wondered? Nia thought she probably would be, were she in the foreign woman’s position. The closeness she and Hena shared was no secret, and she could only imagine how it must feel to be an outsider to such affection. Were Ana’s feelings genuine, Nia supposed she could tolerate her presence, perhaps even grow to like her. If it were not genuine, however…
“It would be my pleasure to share such indulgence with you,” she replied to Ana’s offer; after all, she’d smelled it outside. Opium was a particular vice of hers, an occasional pastime turned to addiction, particularly in the past couple months. The poppy haze was one of the only things that made life bearable, particularly after one of her dreaded late night sessions with the Pharaoh. Smoking it here now with her brother’s mistress would surely help to endear them to one another.
When Ana spoke again, it was as if she read Nia’s earlier thoughts, declaring her love for Hena in no uncertain terms. The noblewoman had expected more of an overture, more skirting around the subject before coming to the heart of it, but apparently the bard had other ideas. Nia’s brows rose in surprise at the sudden admission, though she gave no other outward reaction, at first. How did she feel about this? Truthfully, she wasn’t sure.
I love your brother.
Did she truly? Or were these words simply meant to wind her way into Neithotep’s good graces so she could continue with whatever scheme she’d used to ensnare her brother’s heart? However, after a moment of examining Ana’s face, she could find no hint of dishonesty, only a simple earnestness combined with a touch of anxiety. It was hard not to believe her, but gods knew Nia had been fooled before.
Finally, Nia smiled, even if she wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Hena is a very lovable man,” she replied with a soft laugh. “Though, many would disagree.” Tilting her head curiously, her gaze locked with Ana’s. Her voice was quieter, more serious as the smile slowly faded. “Does he love you?”
Welcomed inside by the woman who named herself a fallen star, Neithotep followed behind her with curious eyes trailing over the trappings of the house. There seemed to be a good mixture of décor from near and far, and she idly wondered how much of it Anastasia had acquired herself and how much had been provided by the generosity of her brother. Whatever it was, his mistress certainly wanted for nothing; as with anything Akhenaten financed, the home was the epitome of luxury. His feelings for the woman must run deeply indeed to outfit her in such a grandiose fashion.
Her attention was particularly drawn to the portrait dominating one of the walls of a falling star crashing down into the world of a handsome man. She thought the metaphor a bit heavy-handed, a sidelong gaze flicking toward Anastasia. What was it about this woman that drew his attention for such an ostentatious gesture? Was it not a bit suspect that she should call herself a celestial body rather than bear the truth of where she came from? What was this Anastasia hiding that she should obscure herself behind such tales of grandeur?
While Nia did not necessarily dislike her, she did remain suspicious of Ana. Afraid that her brother would be too easily manipulated by a beautiful and mysterious woman, she was reluctant to trust the intentions of the arm candy who had so quickly abandoned Hena in the disastrous jewel sale some months prior. Was she using him? Was this just a game to her, or did she mirror what Akhenaten so obviously felt for her?
However, Nia let none of this doubt show on her face, offering Ana a warm smile in response to her greeting. “Thank you for inviting me,” she replied as the woman led her further into the house and gestured for her to sit down. She sank down onto the kline and eyed the smoldering coals before turning to Ana, her smile deepening. “I’m sure my brother would be thrilled to know we are spending this time together. He speaks of you quite fondly.”
Was Anastasia nervous, she wondered? Nia thought she probably would be, were she in the foreign woman’s position. The closeness she and Hena shared was no secret, and she could only imagine how it must feel to be an outsider to such affection. Were Ana’s feelings genuine, Nia supposed she could tolerate her presence, perhaps even grow to like her. If it were not genuine, however…
“It would be my pleasure to share such indulgence with you,” she replied to Ana’s offer; after all, she’d smelled it outside. Opium was a particular vice of hers, an occasional pastime turned to addiction, particularly in the past couple months. The poppy haze was one of the only things that made life bearable, particularly after one of her dreaded late night sessions with the Pharaoh. Smoking it here now with her brother’s mistress would surely help to endear them to one another.
When Ana spoke again, it was as if she read Nia’s earlier thoughts, declaring her love for Hena in no uncertain terms. The noblewoman had expected more of an overture, more skirting around the subject before coming to the heart of it, but apparently the bard had other ideas. Nia’s brows rose in surprise at the sudden admission, though she gave no other outward reaction, at first. How did she feel about this? Truthfully, she wasn’t sure.
I love your brother.
Did she truly? Or were these words simply meant to wind her way into Neithotep’s good graces so she could continue with whatever scheme she’d used to ensnare her brother’s heart? However, after a moment of examining Ana’s face, she could find no hint of dishonesty, only a simple earnestness combined with a touch of anxiety. It was hard not to believe her, but gods knew Nia had been fooled before.
Finally, Nia smiled, even if she wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Hena is a very lovable man,” she replied with a soft laugh. “Though, many would disagree.” Tilting her head curiously, her gaze locked with Ana’s. Her voice was quieter, more serious as the smile slowly faded. “Does he love you?”
Everything that Anastasia made for herself was made from twisting the truth.
An identity spun from the deepest reaches of fables, a visor that sought to draw people in with the absurdity of its nature. Anastasia, like many storytellers before her, and even more after her, moulded her own legend to hold some of the illustrious nature that her preferred fables held. Stories of the Greek Gods and their mighty deeds, tales of the fantastical creatures that none lived to tell. There were legends upon legends, more and more of which in her time being here were Egyptian, that could be referenced. Ana, not knowing much of Egypt when she'd arrived, chose the Fallen Star as her reference, as her identity.
Stars are as mysterious as their light is beautiful. It suited the need, she'd rationalized. But now, she suspected that the grandeur of her introduction might have set Neithotep off somehow. She'd seen it the day they met, the subtle twitch of her nose, the disbelief, while fine in it of itself, that sought to threaten Ana's ability to get in Nia's good graces. It hadn't mattered then, when she saw Akhenaten as some fling to be played with and let continue on with his life... but now, he was much more, and Neithotep needed to be as well. At the very least, Nia wore smiles and not expressions of contempt, or poised neutrality that did little but cause discomfort.
Akhenaten was closest to Nia, more so than his sisters, or his parents. Nia was the woman she needed to be friendliest with, the one who could possibly turn Akhenaten away from her with sordid words and false impressions. She admitted her reason for inviting Nia immediately, stating the truth that she felt for Hena, not wanting to mince words. There was no merit in deceit here, something that Anastasia found almost laughable amidst the countless lies she'd told to everyone, including Hena himself. Nia raised her eyebrows and offered nothing else in the means of expression, that smile turning to the neutrality that Anastasia had hoped to avoid.
No matter... she grumbled internally. Then, she was asked the question and... was disarmed by it. She thought she might be questioned about her motives, about the legitimacy of her statement. Instead, she turned it over to Akhenaten and it...
It caused Ana to laugh!
The chuckle that escaped her lips was both mortifying and liberating. It dispelled the nerves she felt in the situation while she was all too aware of how it must look. But, it continued for a moment longer before she reached to stoke the coals with a stick before she tilted her body and reached for the saucer, using the movement to calm herself down from the sudden outburst.
"People are quite deceitful when it comes to love, aren't they?" she asked, tilting her head just slightly before she continued,
"Where I come from, lady Nia, love is a fantasy, woven about by commoners as they work the land. People pair of by necessity, and that sort of practice extends to this place, as well. I hope that Hena told me the truth. I think that he's in love with me, but perhaps I've been blinded by my own feelings," she murmured.
"He asked me to deny other men, to be his. And I asked him what he meant by that. I think he's being truthful, Nia, but I'm open to your interpretation of it," she added before she transferred some opium from the saucer in her hand to the one heated by coals.
"After you, of course."
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Everything that Anastasia made for herself was made from twisting the truth.
An identity spun from the deepest reaches of fables, a visor that sought to draw people in with the absurdity of its nature. Anastasia, like many storytellers before her, and even more after her, moulded her own legend to hold some of the illustrious nature that her preferred fables held. Stories of the Greek Gods and their mighty deeds, tales of the fantastical creatures that none lived to tell. There were legends upon legends, more and more of which in her time being here were Egyptian, that could be referenced. Ana, not knowing much of Egypt when she'd arrived, chose the Fallen Star as her reference, as her identity.
Stars are as mysterious as their light is beautiful. It suited the need, she'd rationalized. But now, she suspected that the grandeur of her introduction might have set Neithotep off somehow. She'd seen it the day they met, the subtle twitch of her nose, the disbelief, while fine in it of itself, that sought to threaten Ana's ability to get in Nia's good graces. It hadn't mattered then, when she saw Akhenaten as some fling to be played with and let continue on with his life... but now, he was much more, and Neithotep needed to be as well. At the very least, Nia wore smiles and not expressions of contempt, or poised neutrality that did little but cause discomfort.
Akhenaten was closest to Nia, more so than his sisters, or his parents. Nia was the woman she needed to be friendliest with, the one who could possibly turn Akhenaten away from her with sordid words and false impressions. She admitted her reason for inviting Nia immediately, stating the truth that she felt for Hena, not wanting to mince words. There was no merit in deceit here, something that Anastasia found almost laughable amidst the countless lies she'd told to everyone, including Hena himself. Nia raised her eyebrows and offered nothing else in the means of expression, that smile turning to the neutrality that Anastasia had hoped to avoid.
No matter... she grumbled internally. Then, she was asked the question and... was disarmed by it. She thought she might be questioned about her motives, about the legitimacy of her statement. Instead, she turned it over to Akhenaten and it...
It caused Ana to laugh!
The chuckle that escaped her lips was both mortifying and liberating. It dispelled the nerves she felt in the situation while she was all too aware of how it must look. But, it continued for a moment longer before she reached to stoke the coals with a stick before she tilted her body and reached for the saucer, using the movement to calm herself down from the sudden outburst.
"People are quite deceitful when it comes to love, aren't they?" she asked, tilting her head just slightly before she continued,
"Where I come from, lady Nia, love is a fantasy, woven about by commoners as they work the land. People pair of by necessity, and that sort of practice extends to this place, as well. I hope that Hena told me the truth. I think that he's in love with me, but perhaps I've been blinded by my own feelings," she murmured.
"He asked me to deny other men, to be his. And I asked him what he meant by that. I think he's being truthful, Nia, but I'm open to your interpretation of it," she added before she transferred some opium from the saucer in her hand to the one heated by coals.
"After you, of course."
Everything that Anastasia made for herself was made from twisting the truth.
An identity spun from the deepest reaches of fables, a visor that sought to draw people in with the absurdity of its nature. Anastasia, like many storytellers before her, and even more after her, moulded her own legend to hold some of the illustrious nature that her preferred fables held. Stories of the Greek Gods and their mighty deeds, tales of the fantastical creatures that none lived to tell. There were legends upon legends, more and more of which in her time being here were Egyptian, that could be referenced. Ana, not knowing much of Egypt when she'd arrived, chose the Fallen Star as her reference, as her identity.
Stars are as mysterious as their light is beautiful. It suited the need, she'd rationalized. But now, she suspected that the grandeur of her introduction might have set Neithotep off somehow. She'd seen it the day they met, the subtle twitch of her nose, the disbelief, while fine in it of itself, that sought to threaten Ana's ability to get in Nia's good graces. It hadn't mattered then, when she saw Akhenaten as some fling to be played with and let continue on with his life... but now, he was much more, and Neithotep needed to be as well. At the very least, Nia wore smiles and not expressions of contempt, or poised neutrality that did little but cause discomfort.
Akhenaten was closest to Nia, more so than his sisters, or his parents. Nia was the woman she needed to be friendliest with, the one who could possibly turn Akhenaten away from her with sordid words and false impressions. She admitted her reason for inviting Nia immediately, stating the truth that she felt for Hena, not wanting to mince words. There was no merit in deceit here, something that Anastasia found almost laughable amidst the countless lies she'd told to everyone, including Hena himself. Nia raised her eyebrows and offered nothing else in the means of expression, that smile turning to the neutrality that Anastasia had hoped to avoid.
No matter... she grumbled internally. Then, she was asked the question and... was disarmed by it. She thought she might be questioned about her motives, about the legitimacy of her statement. Instead, she turned it over to Akhenaten and it...
It caused Ana to laugh!
The chuckle that escaped her lips was both mortifying and liberating. It dispelled the nerves she felt in the situation while she was all too aware of how it must look. But, it continued for a moment longer before she reached to stoke the coals with a stick before she tilted her body and reached for the saucer, using the movement to calm herself down from the sudden outburst.
"People are quite deceitful when it comes to love, aren't they?" she asked, tilting her head just slightly before she continued,
"Where I come from, lady Nia, love is a fantasy, woven about by commoners as they work the land. People pair of by necessity, and that sort of practice extends to this place, as well. I hope that Hena told me the truth. I think that he's in love with me, but perhaps I've been blinded by my own feelings," she murmured.
"He asked me to deny other men, to be his. And I asked him what he meant by that. I think he's being truthful, Nia, but I'm open to your interpretation of it," she added before she transferred some opium from the saucer in her hand to the one heated by coals.
"After you, of course."
Nia was caught off guard by Ana’s laughter, instantly ready to go on the defensive. Was it truly such a funny question, to ask her brother’s lover if he loved her in return? However, it soon became clear her mirth was simply a way of releasing anxiety rather than an affront to her question. Some of the nearly palpable tension in the room eased as Nia realized the woman’s intention, the smile returning to her features.
“Love is much like that here, too,” she mused in return, watching Ana poke at the smoldering coals. And well did Nia know it; her own life had almost been sold to Narmer H’Haikkadad in exchange for the prominence of his family name. Somehow, some way, she had managed to talk her mother out of the arrangement, ending it with the Sirdar herself. And the reasons she gave…
Gods, but did Nia know how love burned. How it soothed, how it healed, how it destroyed and decayed. Neithotep H’Sheifa was a woman who freely indulged in the whims of her heart, but the past few months had seen complication upon complication as she was caught up in an affair she had not chosen. Did Nia hold affection for the man who captivated her? No, not an ounce of softness could be found for the Pharaoh, but there was another affair, a dangerous one that did hold her heart in thrall. An affair that could never be anything more than that.
Perhaps she understood Ana better than she thought. At least the foreign woman got to openly languish in the affection and favor of her lover. Nia could only hide in the shadows.
Nia forced her mind away from Zoser and back to the situation at hand, her face once more softening as Ana spoke of her brother and the fealty he offered. “I don’t know that he’s ever said such things to a woman,” she murmured with the hint of a smile, dark eyes unreadable as the flicked up to meet Ana’s. “You should count yourself lucky, indeed. Akhenaten normally takes lovers by the dozen, and never have I seen him dote on them the way he seems to with you.”
It was as close to a blessing that Ana was likely to get from her, at least for now. Even if her demeanor had already eased from the time she entered the house, Nia still had her reservations. She, of all people, knew what treachery could linger beneath the surface of soft touches and words of adulation. Time would serve to tell the truth of the bard’s words.
The warmed opium smoke was already starting to drift through the room, filling the air with a bluish haze that relaxed languid muscles and eased hardened hearts. At Ana’s insistence she stepped forward, wafting the smoke toward her and taking a deep breath. While she normally used a pipe or even snorted it the way her mother had shown her, this would serve its purpose well enough. It would be hard to come down with the smoke filling the whole room.
“Did you ever indulge back where you came from?” Nia asked lazily, eyeing the woman. It wasn’t a direct question at her origins, but it was clear enough. Perhaps the smoke would loosen her tongue enough to lend some truth to the tales of Anastasia of the Fallen Star.
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Nia was caught off guard by Ana’s laughter, instantly ready to go on the defensive. Was it truly such a funny question, to ask her brother’s lover if he loved her in return? However, it soon became clear her mirth was simply a way of releasing anxiety rather than an affront to her question. Some of the nearly palpable tension in the room eased as Nia realized the woman’s intention, the smile returning to her features.
“Love is much like that here, too,” she mused in return, watching Ana poke at the smoldering coals. And well did Nia know it; her own life had almost been sold to Narmer H’Haikkadad in exchange for the prominence of his family name. Somehow, some way, she had managed to talk her mother out of the arrangement, ending it with the Sirdar herself. And the reasons she gave…
Gods, but did Nia know how love burned. How it soothed, how it healed, how it destroyed and decayed. Neithotep H’Sheifa was a woman who freely indulged in the whims of her heart, but the past few months had seen complication upon complication as she was caught up in an affair she had not chosen. Did Nia hold affection for the man who captivated her? No, not an ounce of softness could be found for the Pharaoh, but there was another affair, a dangerous one that did hold her heart in thrall. An affair that could never be anything more than that.
Perhaps she understood Ana better than she thought. At least the foreign woman got to openly languish in the affection and favor of her lover. Nia could only hide in the shadows.
Nia forced her mind away from Zoser and back to the situation at hand, her face once more softening as Ana spoke of her brother and the fealty he offered. “I don’t know that he’s ever said such things to a woman,” she murmured with the hint of a smile, dark eyes unreadable as the flicked up to meet Ana’s. “You should count yourself lucky, indeed. Akhenaten normally takes lovers by the dozen, and never have I seen him dote on them the way he seems to with you.”
It was as close to a blessing that Ana was likely to get from her, at least for now. Even if her demeanor had already eased from the time she entered the house, Nia still had her reservations. She, of all people, knew what treachery could linger beneath the surface of soft touches and words of adulation. Time would serve to tell the truth of the bard’s words.
The warmed opium smoke was already starting to drift through the room, filling the air with a bluish haze that relaxed languid muscles and eased hardened hearts. At Ana’s insistence she stepped forward, wafting the smoke toward her and taking a deep breath. While she normally used a pipe or even snorted it the way her mother had shown her, this would serve its purpose well enough. It would be hard to come down with the smoke filling the whole room.
“Did you ever indulge back where you came from?” Nia asked lazily, eyeing the woman. It wasn’t a direct question at her origins, but it was clear enough. Perhaps the smoke would loosen her tongue enough to lend some truth to the tales of Anastasia of the Fallen Star.
Nia was caught off guard by Ana’s laughter, instantly ready to go on the defensive. Was it truly such a funny question, to ask her brother’s lover if he loved her in return? However, it soon became clear her mirth was simply a way of releasing anxiety rather than an affront to her question. Some of the nearly palpable tension in the room eased as Nia realized the woman’s intention, the smile returning to her features.
“Love is much like that here, too,” she mused in return, watching Ana poke at the smoldering coals. And well did Nia know it; her own life had almost been sold to Narmer H’Haikkadad in exchange for the prominence of his family name. Somehow, some way, she had managed to talk her mother out of the arrangement, ending it with the Sirdar herself. And the reasons she gave…
Gods, but did Nia know how love burned. How it soothed, how it healed, how it destroyed and decayed. Neithotep H’Sheifa was a woman who freely indulged in the whims of her heart, but the past few months had seen complication upon complication as she was caught up in an affair she had not chosen. Did Nia hold affection for the man who captivated her? No, not an ounce of softness could be found for the Pharaoh, but there was another affair, a dangerous one that did hold her heart in thrall. An affair that could never be anything more than that.
Perhaps she understood Ana better than she thought. At least the foreign woman got to openly languish in the affection and favor of her lover. Nia could only hide in the shadows.
Nia forced her mind away from Zoser and back to the situation at hand, her face once more softening as Ana spoke of her brother and the fealty he offered. “I don’t know that he’s ever said such things to a woman,” she murmured with the hint of a smile, dark eyes unreadable as the flicked up to meet Ana’s. “You should count yourself lucky, indeed. Akhenaten normally takes lovers by the dozen, and never have I seen him dote on them the way he seems to with you.”
It was as close to a blessing that Ana was likely to get from her, at least for now. Even if her demeanor had already eased from the time she entered the house, Nia still had her reservations. She, of all people, knew what treachery could linger beneath the surface of soft touches and words of adulation. Time would serve to tell the truth of the bard’s words.
The warmed opium smoke was already starting to drift through the room, filling the air with a bluish haze that relaxed languid muscles and eased hardened hearts. At Ana’s insistence she stepped forward, wafting the smoke toward her and taking a deep breath. While she normally used a pipe or even snorted it the way her mother had shown her, this would serve its purpose well enough. It would be hard to come down with the smoke filling the whole room.
“Did you ever indulge back where you came from?” Nia asked lazily, eyeing the woman. It wasn’t a direct question at her origins, but it was clear enough. Perhaps the smoke would loosen her tongue enough to lend some truth to the tales of Anastasia of the Fallen Star.
"Love is much like that here, too."
Of course it was. The idea of being conscripted to bring honour to family was something altogether... unfamiliar to Anastasia. Her own marriage, left behind so long ago... was nothing of the sort. Greed and anguish had separated Calliope of Aetaea from her father, and while neither men she'd lived in the same house in were in any way generous or loving... she'd preferred wholeheartedly the life in Aetaea to the one in Athenia. Not that the latter didn't serve its purpose. When Calliope left Athenia, she was a broken, but well-learned young woman, and sought to build her body and the strength of her spirit just as she had her mind. As the years passed her by, the idea of loving another was well forgotten, replaced instead with a drive for self-preservation and confidence that made her think she could live without it.
Blessed Euterpe, she reflected, thinking back on the Harimtu who had set her soul free.
However, life had different plans for Ana than keeping her so incomplete, searching the world for distraction and allowing the hole in her heart to continue bleeding. Akhenaten's confessions to her seemed capable of healing those wounds, and even as she admitted her doubts aloud to Neithotep, his words continued to cause her comfort laden with an unknown sort of duress. It was a complicated feeling, one that she yearned for as much as she rebuked. She'd laugh off the idea of her conflict to most, but Nia, in her efforts to protect her brother, deserved more of the truth than she'd admit to most others. The flickering smile upon the other woman's face as she spoke denoted her surprise at such an answer, but her expression gave Ana nothing else to work with in terms of attempting to glean more of the truth that was Akhenaten.
Love is a flame, so easily stamped out at first. But, it grows and grows, to an encompassing fire that is not so easily extinguished.
She'd told that lesson so many times before, in tales of the Greek Gods, in the weaving of stories of her own creation. But, often enough she spoke of different types of love, leaving romantic to simmer in the distance. The laughter of before was gone, replaced instead by a pensive nod. Nia's words weren't... reassuring, and she doubted the noblewoman meant them to be. But, they did denote a sort of... acceptance, of Ana's place in Hena's life. Which, to Ana, was well enough. She craved that sort of acceptance, especially from her. If the sister who was most protective of Ana's lover could offer that much, then she could be happy that Hena would not so easily release Ana from his life. In the man's embrace, she found pleasure and freedom that she'd never known before, even as he asked her to abandon the idea of seducing other men.
Men have been prey... In this place... this life, there's no real need for it, she assured herself as the room filled with smoke and Ana let herself breathe it in. She felt the waves of relaxation course through her as the smoke from throughout the room wafted in her nostrils. She let Nia have her turn, then replenished the opium in the saucer and allowed it to billow anew, breathing it in and letting it fill her lungs and veins with the delicious narcotic that spread further pleasure through her body. She leaned back in her place, shaking her head at the woman's question.
She took far too long to respond. She thought it over once, then again, and a third time, trying to force her tongue into motion but it merely ended up with her biting the end of it by mistake. When she finally found the will to respond, she found her eyes closed, her expression befitting the lazy satisfaction that only this particular drug brought to her.
"It's not quite as common in Greece," she reflected. She'd had several opportunities, but with the need to always be wary and always be in motion... the lazy abandon was not quite as appealing to her as the allure of liquor. She couldn't quite muster up a reason for it, especially as her head filled with clouds and she just kept speaking,
"Able to be found, sure, but... not the same. It is difficult... to be in my line of work... when you can barely speak," she added, the giggle low in her throat.
"Liquor never does that to me, so I've been content with it. But.... it's nice. Different... Opium is a lovely delicacy."
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"Love is much like that here, too."
Of course it was. The idea of being conscripted to bring honour to family was something altogether... unfamiliar to Anastasia. Her own marriage, left behind so long ago... was nothing of the sort. Greed and anguish had separated Calliope of Aetaea from her father, and while neither men she'd lived in the same house in were in any way generous or loving... she'd preferred wholeheartedly the life in Aetaea to the one in Athenia. Not that the latter didn't serve its purpose. When Calliope left Athenia, she was a broken, but well-learned young woman, and sought to build her body and the strength of her spirit just as she had her mind. As the years passed her by, the idea of loving another was well forgotten, replaced instead with a drive for self-preservation and confidence that made her think she could live without it.
Blessed Euterpe, she reflected, thinking back on the Harimtu who had set her soul free.
However, life had different plans for Ana than keeping her so incomplete, searching the world for distraction and allowing the hole in her heart to continue bleeding. Akhenaten's confessions to her seemed capable of healing those wounds, and even as she admitted her doubts aloud to Neithotep, his words continued to cause her comfort laden with an unknown sort of duress. It was a complicated feeling, one that she yearned for as much as she rebuked. She'd laugh off the idea of her conflict to most, but Nia, in her efforts to protect her brother, deserved more of the truth than she'd admit to most others. The flickering smile upon the other woman's face as she spoke denoted her surprise at such an answer, but her expression gave Ana nothing else to work with in terms of attempting to glean more of the truth that was Akhenaten.
Love is a flame, so easily stamped out at first. But, it grows and grows, to an encompassing fire that is not so easily extinguished.
She'd told that lesson so many times before, in tales of the Greek Gods, in the weaving of stories of her own creation. But, often enough she spoke of different types of love, leaving romantic to simmer in the distance. The laughter of before was gone, replaced instead by a pensive nod. Nia's words weren't... reassuring, and she doubted the noblewoman meant them to be. But, they did denote a sort of... acceptance, of Ana's place in Hena's life. Which, to Ana, was well enough. She craved that sort of acceptance, especially from her. If the sister who was most protective of Ana's lover could offer that much, then she could be happy that Hena would not so easily release Ana from his life. In the man's embrace, she found pleasure and freedom that she'd never known before, even as he asked her to abandon the idea of seducing other men.
Men have been prey... In this place... this life, there's no real need for it, she assured herself as the room filled with smoke and Ana let herself breathe it in. She felt the waves of relaxation course through her as the smoke from throughout the room wafted in her nostrils. She let Nia have her turn, then replenished the opium in the saucer and allowed it to billow anew, breathing it in and letting it fill her lungs and veins with the delicious narcotic that spread further pleasure through her body. She leaned back in her place, shaking her head at the woman's question.
She took far too long to respond. She thought it over once, then again, and a third time, trying to force her tongue into motion but it merely ended up with her biting the end of it by mistake. When she finally found the will to respond, she found her eyes closed, her expression befitting the lazy satisfaction that only this particular drug brought to her.
"It's not quite as common in Greece," she reflected. She'd had several opportunities, but with the need to always be wary and always be in motion... the lazy abandon was not quite as appealing to her as the allure of liquor. She couldn't quite muster up a reason for it, especially as her head filled with clouds and she just kept speaking,
"Able to be found, sure, but... not the same. It is difficult... to be in my line of work... when you can barely speak," she added, the giggle low in her throat.
"Liquor never does that to me, so I've been content with it. But.... it's nice. Different... Opium is a lovely delicacy."
"Love is much like that here, too."
Of course it was. The idea of being conscripted to bring honour to family was something altogether... unfamiliar to Anastasia. Her own marriage, left behind so long ago... was nothing of the sort. Greed and anguish had separated Calliope of Aetaea from her father, and while neither men she'd lived in the same house in were in any way generous or loving... she'd preferred wholeheartedly the life in Aetaea to the one in Athenia. Not that the latter didn't serve its purpose. When Calliope left Athenia, she was a broken, but well-learned young woman, and sought to build her body and the strength of her spirit just as she had her mind. As the years passed her by, the idea of loving another was well forgotten, replaced instead with a drive for self-preservation and confidence that made her think she could live without it.
Blessed Euterpe, she reflected, thinking back on the Harimtu who had set her soul free.
However, life had different plans for Ana than keeping her so incomplete, searching the world for distraction and allowing the hole in her heart to continue bleeding. Akhenaten's confessions to her seemed capable of healing those wounds, and even as she admitted her doubts aloud to Neithotep, his words continued to cause her comfort laden with an unknown sort of duress. It was a complicated feeling, one that she yearned for as much as she rebuked. She'd laugh off the idea of her conflict to most, but Nia, in her efforts to protect her brother, deserved more of the truth than she'd admit to most others. The flickering smile upon the other woman's face as she spoke denoted her surprise at such an answer, but her expression gave Ana nothing else to work with in terms of attempting to glean more of the truth that was Akhenaten.
Love is a flame, so easily stamped out at first. But, it grows and grows, to an encompassing fire that is not so easily extinguished.
She'd told that lesson so many times before, in tales of the Greek Gods, in the weaving of stories of her own creation. But, often enough she spoke of different types of love, leaving romantic to simmer in the distance. The laughter of before was gone, replaced instead by a pensive nod. Nia's words weren't... reassuring, and she doubted the noblewoman meant them to be. But, they did denote a sort of... acceptance, of Ana's place in Hena's life. Which, to Ana, was well enough. She craved that sort of acceptance, especially from her. If the sister who was most protective of Ana's lover could offer that much, then she could be happy that Hena would not so easily release Ana from his life. In the man's embrace, she found pleasure and freedom that she'd never known before, even as he asked her to abandon the idea of seducing other men.
Men have been prey... In this place... this life, there's no real need for it, she assured herself as the room filled with smoke and Ana let herself breathe it in. She felt the waves of relaxation course through her as the smoke from throughout the room wafted in her nostrils. She let Nia have her turn, then replenished the opium in the saucer and allowed it to billow anew, breathing it in and letting it fill her lungs and veins with the delicious narcotic that spread further pleasure through her body. She leaned back in her place, shaking her head at the woman's question.
She took far too long to respond. She thought it over once, then again, and a third time, trying to force her tongue into motion but it merely ended up with her biting the end of it by mistake. When she finally found the will to respond, she found her eyes closed, her expression befitting the lazy satisfaction that only this particular drug brought to her.
"It's not quite as common in Greece," she reflected. She'd had several opportunities, but with the need to always be wary and always be in motion... the lazy abandon was not quite as appealing to her as the allure of liquor. She couldn't quite muster up a reason for it, especially as her head filled with clouds and she just kept speaking,
"Able to be found, sure, but... not the same. It is difficult... to be in my line of work... when you can barely speak," she added, the giggle low in her throat.
"Liquor never does that to me, so I've been content with it. But.... it's nice. Different... Opium is a lovely delicacy."
Opium was indeed a lovely delicacy, one Neithotep spent far too much of her time consuming. Before, it had been an occasional indulgence; like Ana, the Egyptian woman typically preferred alcohol. But now… now it was daily, often more than once, and her tolerance for the smoke was almost alarming. She found as the days went on, she needed more and more of it to have the same mind-numbing effect, and there was a part of her that whispered of the dangerous road she walked.
But Nia would yield to addiction if it made her nights any easier.
Vaguely, she became aware of the words Ana spoke, the cursory admission of her home land, one that was most certainly mortal and not of the skies. While she knew the bard’s tales for what they were, it was an unidentifiable relief to hear her assert herself as the human she was, rather than the bold proclamations of heavenly origins.
“My favored indulgences don’t truly require speech,” she replied with a laugh, her own demeanor yet to soften to the smoke’s influence. “Nor do my obligations. All that’s really expected of me is to stand in Court and look pretty—even better if I don’t speak.” Rolling her eyes, Nia leaned back further against the kline she rested on. “Once, I preferred alcohol too, but tastes change, I suppose.” Perhaps she was warming up to Ana, but certainly not enough to give the reasons for that change. “It is a delicacy readily available here. Hei Sheifa has connections to nearly every industry across the known world. I’m sure Akhenaten will be able to keep you as supplied as you like, should you wish to indulge more often.”
Idly twirling one of her necklaces around her finger, Nia’s lazy gaze rested on Ana curiously. Just how much would the poppy loosen her tongue? What could she hope to pry out of her brother’s mistress this evening? There was something to be said for the sharing of such substances, and the mellowing effect it had on the involved parties. How much would it mellow the Greek?
“Greece?” she repeated casually, her muscles slowly relaxing with each breath she took; the blessed relief taking hold at last. “There is more than one Greek kingdom, is there not? Which one was lucky enough to spring you from its shores?” Her offhand demeanor was feigned, hoping that the more nonchalant she seemed, the more likely her companion would be to speak. Truthfully, she was dying to know more, desperate to unravel the threads that made up the enigma of the bard.
While Nia certainly had her own secrets to keep these days, before, she was always a woman who lived her life openly and without restraint. Anyone who did not was a curiosity to her, and Ana shrouded herself in tales so fanciful, she couldn’t help but wonder at the secrets they concealed. And especially with a woman so close to her brother… she wanted to ensure that which she concealed would not bring danger on them later.
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Opium was indeed a lovely delicacy, one Neithotep spent far too much of her time consuming. Before, it had been an occasional indulgence; like Ana, the Egyptian woman typically preferred alcohol. But now… now it was daily, often more than once, and her tolerance for the smoke was almost alarming. She found as the days went on, she needed more and more of it to have the same mind-numbing effect, and there was a part of her that whispered of the dangerous road she walked.
But Nia would yield to addiction if it made her nights any easier.
Vaguely, she became aware of the words Ana spoke, the cursory admission of her home land, one that was most certainly mortal and not of the skies. While she knew the bard’s tales for what they were, it was an unidentifiable relief to hear her assert herself as the human she was, rather than the bold proclamations of heavenly origins.
“My favored indulgences don’t truly require speech,” she replied with a laugh, her own demeanor yet to soften to the smoke’s influence. “Nor do my obligations. All that’s really expected of me is to stand in Court and look pretty—even better if I don’t speak.” Rolling her eyes, Nia leaned back further against the kline she rested on. “Once, I preferred alcohol too, but tastes change, I suppose.” Perhaps she was warming up to Ana, but certainly not enough to give the reasons for that change. “It is a delicacy readily available here. Hei Sheifa has connections to nearly every industry across the known world. I’m sure Akhenaten will be able to keep you as supplied as you like, should you wish to indulge more often.”
Idly twirling one of her necklaces around her finger, Nia’s lazy gaze rested on Ana curiously. Just how much would the poppy loosen her tongue? What could she hope to pry out of her brother’s mistress this evening? There was something to be said for the sharing of such substances, and the mellowing effect it had on the involved parties. How much would it mellow the Greek?
“Greece?” she repeated casually, her muscles slowly relaxing with each breath she took; the blessed relief taking hold at last. “There is more than one Greek kingdom, is there not? Which one was lucky enough to spring you from its shores?” Her offhand demeanor was feigned, hoping that the more nonchalant she seemed, the more likely her companion would be to speak. Truthfully, she was dying to know more, desperate to unravel the threads that made up the enigma of the bard.
While Nia certainly had her own secrets to keep these days, before, she was always a woman who lived her life openly and without restraint. Anyone who did not was a curiosity to her, and Ana shrouded herself in tales so fanciful, she couldn’t help but wonder at the secrets they concealed. And especially with a woman so close to her brother… she wanted to ensure that which she concealed would not bring danger on them later.
Opium was indeed a lovely delicacy, one Neithotep spent far too much of her time consuming. Before, it had been an occasional indulgence; like Ana, the Egyptian woman typically preferred alcohol. But now… now it was daily, often more than once, and her tolerance for the smoke was almost alarming. She found as the days went on, she needed more and more of it to have the same mind-numbing effect, and there was a part of her that whispered of the dangerous road she walked.
But Nia would yield to addiction if it made her nights any easier.
Vaguely, she became aware of the words Ana spoke, the cursory admission of her home land, one that was most certainly mortal and not of the skies. While she knew the bard’s tales for what they were, it was an unidentifiable relief to hear her assert herself as the human she was, rather than the bold proclamations of heavenly origins.
“My favored indulgences don’t truly require speech,” she replied with a laugh, her own demeanor yet to soften to the smoke’s influence. “Nor do my obligations. All that’s really expected of me is to stand in Court and look pretty—even better if I don’t speak.” Rolling her eyes, Nia leaned back further against the kline she rested on. “Once, I preferred alcohol too, but tastes change, I suppose.” Perhaps she was warming up to Ana, but certainly not enough to give the reasons for that change. “It is a delicacy readily available here. Hei Sheifa has connections to nearly every industry across the known world. I’m sure Akhenaten will be able to keep you as supplied as you like, should you wish to indulge more often.”
Idly twirling one of her necklaces around her finger, Nia’s lazy gaze rested on Ana curiously. Just how much would the poppy loosen her tongue? What could she hope to pry out of her brother’s mistress this evening? There was something to be said for the sharing of such substances, and the mellowing effect it had on the involved parties. How much would it mellow the Greek?
“Greece?” she repeated casually, her muscles slowly relaxing with each breath she took; the blessed relief taking hold at last. “There is more than one Greek kingdom, is there not? Which one was lucky enough to spring you from its shores?” Her offhand demeanor was feigned, hoping that the more nonchalant she seemed, the more likely her companion would be to speak. Truthfully, she was dying to know more, desperate to unravel the threads that made up the enigma of the bard.
While Nia certainly had her own secrets to keep these days, before, she was always a woman who lived her life openly and without restraint. Anyone who did not was a curiosity to her, and Ana shrouded herself in tales so fanciful, she couldn’t help but wonder at the secrets they concealed. And especially with a woman so close to her brother… she wanted to ensure that which she concealed would not bring danger on them later.
Anastasia of the Fallen Star.
It was her most recent persona and more than likely, yet another that would fall by the wayside. As the young woman became more and more comfortable in sharing herself with Akhenaten, the need to go out and craft stories for the Egyptians lessened. The desire to learn more about the Gods seemed hollow at best when she'd had it and in fairness, there was nothing to tell. War made for ill time for a bard with limited knowledge to make her mark on the world. So, Anastasia of the Fallen Star turned towards obsolescence, and so did the need to maintain the facade.
Now, she was simply Anastasia, while also a false identity, it was one that did not require her to hold to the notion of pseudo-divinity. To be struck down by foreign Gods was an ill enough prospect, and if there was little money to be made by it, then the juice was simply not worth the squeeze. Instead, Ana laughed with Egyptians, danced through the night, indulged with Hena or without him, but hadn't crossed any sort of lines with anyone else. There was no need when she was consistently being satiated by such a gorgeous man. Everything was made better by the fact that she'd grown to love him, wasn't it?
Neithotep provided a suitable distraction from the thought when she turned the conversation towards herself. the obligations of a denizen of the courts, of looking pretty and acting in line with perceptions... While Ana was never a noble, she was once a wife to a powerful merchant. She understood better than most common-blooded people the notions of propriety and just how stifling they could be. Alcohol was a good release, but Nia took to opium, and she could see why. When Hena was your best friend and your brother, when the world made it difficult to accept oneself and one's notions... then drugs made everything better.
Anastasia shifted, taking in another deep breath of opium-suffused air after stoking the coals. She continued to listen to Neithotep, deciding to make use of her time falling deeper into the stupor that, unbeknownst to her, the Egyptian girl wanted her in. Ana felt a shiver of delight course like fire through her nerves, the soft collision of her back against the kline magnified again and again. She relished in the sensations as she twisted her head and watched Nia take her own relaxation with the opium that wafted around them.
Anastasia nodded, not missing the question. Of course Nia knew she was from Greece, her little question seemed almost... indulgent. But, Ana didn't say anything about it. She let Nia pose her question, one that was much more difficult to answer than she might've thought. Athenia might've birthed her, but Anastasia was not made in Athenia. She paused and a flash of scarlet hair and a dazzling smile whirled within her thoughts.
"Colchis. However, I traveled quite a lot between there and Taengea as I grew into my own as a story weaver. It was, perhaps, easier back then. I know so many of my people's legends... and not enough of yours," she lamented. Not quite wrested from the grip of her sanity, Anastasia was guarded, trying to answer appropriately without giving into the deeper truths behind her identity.
It was more difficult to lie to Neithotep than some drunk wastrel hitting on her in an agora, or a tavern, or on the streets. But, she did her utmost, and the words came out easily enough.
"I had this ruse, much like the fallen star. Anastasia of the Siren's Song, I called myself. Calling attention to oneself without giving up the truth is the hallmark of a bard."
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Anastasia of the Fallen Star.
It was her most recent persona and more than likely, yet another that would fall by the wayside. As the young woman became more and more comfortable in sharing herself with Akhenaten, the need to go out and craft stories for the Egyptians lessened. The desire to learn more about the Gods seemed hollow at best when she'd had it and in fairness, there was nothing to tell. War made for ill time for a bard with limited knowledge to make her mark on the world. So, Anastasia of the Fallen Star turned towards obsolescence, and so did the need to maintain the facade.
Now, she was simply Anastasia, while also a false identity, it was one that did not require her to hold to the notion of pseudo-divinity. To be struck down by foreign Gods was an ill enough prospect, and if there was little money to be made by it, then the juice was simply not worth the squeeze. Instead, Ana laughed with Egyptians, danced through the night, indulged with Hena or without him, but hadn't crossed any sort of lines with anyone else. There was no need when she was consistently being satiated by such a gorgeous man. Everything was made better by the fact that she'd grown to love him, wasn't it?
Neithotep provided a suitable distraction from the thought when she turned the conversation towards herself. the obligations of a denizen of the courts, of looking pretty and acting in line with perceptions... While Ana was never a noble, she was once a wife to a powerful merchant. She understood better than most common-blooded people the notions of propriety and just how stifling they could be. Alcohol was a good release, but Nia took to opium, and she could see why. When Hena was your best friend and your brother, when the world made it difficult to accept oneself and one's notions... then drugs made everything better.
Anastasia shifted, taking in another deep breath of opium-suffused air after stoking the coals. She continued to listen to Neithotep, deciding to make use of her time falling deeper into the stupor that, unbeknownst to her, the Egyptian girl wanted her in. Ana felt a shiver of delight course like fire through her nerves, the soft collision of her back against the kline magnified again and again. She relished in the sensations as she twisted her head and watched Nia take her own relaxation with the opium that wafted around them.
Anastasia nodded, not missing the question. Of course Nia knew she was from Greece, her little question seemed almost... indulgent. But, Ana didn't say anything about it. She let Nia pose her question, one that was much more difficult to answer than she might've thought. Athenia might've birthed her, but Anastasia was not made in Athenia. She paused and a flash of scarlet hair and a dazzling smile whirled within her thoughts.
"Colchis. However, I traveled quite a lot between there and Taengea as I grew into my own as a story weaver. It was, perhaps, easier back then. I know so many of my people's legends... and not enough of yours," she lamented. Not quite wrested from the grip of her sanity, Anastasia was guarded, trying to answer appropriately without giving into the deeper truths behind her identity.
It was more difficult to lie to Neithotep than some drunk wastrel hitting on her in an agora, or a tavern, or on the streets. But, she did her utmost, and the words came out easily enough.
"I had this ruse, much like the fallen star. Anastasia of the Siren's Song, I called myself. Calling attention to oneself without giving up the truth is the hallmark of a bard."
Anastasia of the Fallen Star.
It was her most recent persona and more than likely, yet another that would fall by the wayside. As the young woman became more and more comfortable in sharing herself with Akhenaten, the need to go out and craft stories for the Egyptians lessened. The desire to learn more about the Gods seemed hollow at best when she'd had it and in fairness, there was nothing to tell. War made for ill time for a bard with limited knowledge to make her mark on the world. So, Anastasia of the Fallen Star turned towards obsolescence, and so did the need to maintain the facade.
Now, she was simply Anastasia, while also a false identity, it was one that did not require her to hold to the notion of pseudo-divinity. To be struck down by foreign Gods was an ill enough prospect, and if there was little money to be made by it, then the juice was simply not worth the squeeze. Instead, Ana laughed with Egyptians, danced through the night, indulged with Hena or without him, but hadn't crossed any sort of lines with anyone else. There was no need when she was consistently being satiated by such a gorgeous man. Everything was made better by the fact that she'd grown to love him, wasn't it?
Neithotep provided a suitable distraction from the thought when she turned the conversation towards herself. the obligations of a denizen of the courts, of looking pretty and acting in line with perceptions... While Ana was never a noble, she was once a wife to a powerful merchant. She understood better than most common-blooded people the notions of propriety and just how stifling they could be. Alcohol was a good release, but Nia took to opium, and she could see why. When Hena was your best friend and your brother, when the world made it difficult to accept oneself and one's notions... then drugs made everything better.
Anastasia shifted, taking in another deep breath of opium-suffused air after stoking the coals. She continued to listen to Neithotep, deciding to make use of her time falling deeper into the stupor that, unbeknownst to her, the Egyptian girl wanted her in. Ana felt a shiver of delight course like fire through her nerves, the soft collision of her back against the kline magnified again and again. She relished in the sensations as she twisted her head and watched Nia take her own relaxation with the opium that wafted around them.
Anastasia nodded, not missing the question. Of course Nia knew she was from Greece, her little question seemed almost... indulgent. But, Ana didn't say anything about it. She let Nia pose her question, one that was much more difficult to answer than she might've thought. Athenia might've birthed her, but Anastasia was not made in Athenia. She paused and a flash of scarlet hair and a dazzling smile whirled within her thoughts.
"Colchis. However, I traveled quite a lot between there and Taengea as I grew into my own as a story weaver. It was, perhaps, easier back then. I know so many of my people's legends... and not enough of yours," she lamented. Not quite wrested from the grip of her sanity, Anastasia was guarded, trying to answer appropriately without giving into the deeper truths behind her identity.
It was more difficult to lie to Neithotep than some drunk wastrel hitting on her in an agora, or a tavern, or on the streets. But, she did her utmost, and the words came out easily enough.
"I had this ruse, much like the fallen star. Anastasia of the Siren's Song, I called myself. Calling attention to oneself without giving up the truth is the hallmark of a bard."
Anastasia offered her country of origin, Nia nodding absently as she rifled through the small bit of knowledge she had acquired about the Greek kingdoms over the years. While she came from a prominent merchant family, one that catered to lands near and far, the young noblewoman had never been one to pay close heed to the lessons her parents tried to impart in her. Colchis, Colchis… that was the militaristic one, right? Or was that Athenia? Taengea was the… scholarly one, wasn’t it? No, maybe that was Athenia… Nia sighed and shook her head. Head hazy with opium, now was hardly the ideal time to remember things she’d barely learned in the first place. She’d look it up tomorrow.
“I can scarce keep track of our own stories and traditions sometimes, and I live here,” she sympathized with the other woman, the corner of her mouth tilting up in an amused smirk. “It’s quite a lot to learn.” Laughing softly, she wafted a bit more of the smoke in her direction before leaning back and closing her eyes. “Though, I suppose the need for weaving such tales has… lessened, yes?” A warm contentment soothed her limbs, Nia feeling as if she might melt into the very kline beneath her. Which made her wonder what life would be like as a piece of furniture—it must be a simple life. Serving one purpose and one only, though would it be fulfilling? To lead such a basic existence where one never even moved unless their possessor moved them? Then again, a piece of furniture wasn’t conscious like she was, and that was probably for the best. Who would want to be a sentient couch?
Wait, what were they talking about again? A hysterical giggle parted Nia’s lips at the absurd line of thought that led her away from the task at hand, forcing her eyes to reopen and attempt to refocus on Ana. “What was I saying… yes, that’s right. With my brother taking care of you, I don’t suppose you need to worry about money any more. All you’d need to do is crook your little finger, and Hena would have whatever you wanted before you even asked.”
While there were times that Neithotep H’Sheifa despised her own nobility, she could never say she had wanted for anything. There were distinct advantages to her social class; she never had to worry about where her next meal came from or if she could replace a ruined article of clothing. If she wanted to bathe in gold and jewels she could, and she practically did, considering the opulence of Hei’s Sheifa’s bathing rooms. But every advantage had its disadvantage, and even as she lived in a gilded cage, she longed to be free of it. To make her own choices, her own mistakes, forge her own path and be able to say she was the one that chose it… She envied Ana a bit for that. Even if she shrouded herself in fantastical tales, at least they were tales she wove herself.
Gods, she really couldn’t keep her focus tonight, could she? Of course, Hena would only have provided the best flower for his mistress that he could. She would have to ask him where he got this.
I had this ruse, much like the fallen star. Anastasia of the Siren's Song, I called myself. Calling attention to oneself without giving up the truth is the hallmark of a bard.
Nia sat up and forced herself to pay attention, because she had come here with a purpose, damn it all. She needed to learn more about Ana, ensure she was worthy of her brother’s attentions. She couldn’t let this opportunity slip away from her simply because she was too high to focus.
“Yes, I found it… curious that you named yourself a fallen star,” Nia admitted, tilting her head curiously. “Particularly in a land like Egypt, where the stars are so sacred to us. I questioned if it was merely a… what’s the word… diversion, or if you truly thought yourself so important.” The poppy blunted her tongue, but her tone was not unkind. “But I suppose it makes sense, if you’re seeking attention. There is little else you could do that would draw more attention than that.”
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Anastasia offered her country of origin, Nia nodding absently as she rifled through the small bit of knowledge she had acquired about the Greek kingdoms over the years. While she came from a prominent merchant family, one that catered to lands near and far, the young noblewoman had never been one to pay close heed to the lessons her parents tried to impart in her. Colchis, Colchis… that was the militaristic one, right? Or was that Athenia? Taengea was the… scholarly one, wasn’t it? No, maybe that was Athenia… Nia sighed and shook her head. Head hazy with opium, now was hardly the ideal time to remember things she’d barely learned in the first place. She’d look it up tomorrow.
“I can scarce keep track of our own stories and traditions sometimes, and I live here,” she sympathized with the other woman, the corner of her mouth tilting up in an amused smirk. “It’s quite a lot to learn.” Laughing softly, she wafted a bit more of the smoke in her direction before leaning back and closing her eyes. “Though, I suppose the need for weaving such tales has… lessened, yes?” A warm contentment soothed her limbs, Nia feeling as if she might melt into the very kline beneath her. Which made her wonder what life would be like as a piece of furniture—it must be a simple life. Serving one purpose and one only, though would it be fulfilling? To lead such a basic existence where one never even moved unless their possessor moved them? Then again, a piece of furniture wasn’t conscious like she was, and that was probably for the best. Who would want to be a sentient couch?
Wait, what were they talking about again? A hysterical giggle parted Nia’s lips at the absurd line of thought that led her away from the task at hand, forcing her eyes to reopen and attempt to refocus on Ana. “What was I saying… yes, that’s right. With my brother taking care of you, I don’t suppose you need to worry about money any more. All you’d need to do is crook your little finger, and Hena would have whatever you wanted before you even asked.”
While there were times that Neithotep H’Sheifa despised her own nobility, she could never say she had wanted for anything. There were distinct advantages to her social class; she never had to worry about where her next meal came from or if she could replace a ruined article of clothing. If she wanted to bathe in gold and jewels she could, and she practically did, considering the opulence of Hei’s Sheifa’s bathing rooms. But every advantage had its disadvantage, and even as she lived in a gilded cage, she longed to be free of it. To make her own choices, her own mistakes, forge her own path and be able to say she was the one that chose it… She envied Ana a bit for that. Even if she shrouded herself in fantastical tales, at least they were tales she wove herself.
Gods, she really couldn’t keep her focus tonight, could she? Of course, Hena would only have provided the best flower for his mistress that he could. She would have to ask him where he got this.
I had this ruse, much like the fallen star. Anastasia of the Siren's Song, I called myself. Calling attention to oneself without giving up the truth is the hallmark of a bard.
Nia sat up and forced herself to pay attention, because she had come here with a purpose, damn it all. She needed to learn more about Ana, ensure she was worthy of her brother’s attentions. She couldn’t let this opportunity slip away from her simply because she was too high to focus.
“Yes, I found it… curious that you named yourself a fallen star,” Nia admitted, tilting her head curiously. “Particularly in a land like Egypt, where the stars are so sacred to us. I questioned if it was merely a… what’s the word… diversion, or if you truly thought yourself so important.” The poppy blunted her tongue, but her tone was not unkind. “But I suppose it makes sense, if you’re seeking attention. There is little else you could do that would draw more attention than that.”
Anastasia offered her country of origin, Nia nodding absently as she rifled through the small bit of knowledge she had acquired about the Greek kingdoms over the years. While she came from a prominent merchant family, one that catered to lands near and far, the young noblewoman had never been one to pay close heed to the lessons her parents tried to impart in her. Colchis, Colchis… that was the militaristic one, right? Or was that Athenia? Taengea was the… scholarly one, wasn’t it? No, maybe that was Athenia… Nia sighed and shook her head. Head hazy with opium, now was hardly the ideal time to remember things she’d barely learned in the first place. She’d look it up tomorrow.
“I can scarce keep track of our own stories and traditions sometimes, and I live here,” she sympathized with the other woman, the corner of her mouth tilting up in an amused smirk. “It’s quite a lot to learn.” Laughing softly, she wafted a bit more of the smoke in her direction before leaning back and closing her eyes. “Though, I suppose the need for weaving such tales has… lessened, yes?” A warm contentment soothed her limbs, Nia feeling as if she might melt into the very kline beneath her. Which made her wonder what life would be like as a piece of furniture—it must be a simple life. Serving one purpose and one only, though would it be fulfilling? To lead such a basic existence where one never even moved unless their possessor moved them? Then again, a piece of furniture wasn’t conscious like she was, and that was probably for the best. Who would want to be a sentient couch?
Wait, what were they talking about again? A hysterical giggle parted Nia’s lips at the absurd line of thought that led her away from the task at hand, forcing her eyes to reopen and attempt to refocus on Ana. “What was I saying… yes, that’s right. With my brother taking care of you, I don’t suppose you need to worry about money any more. All you’d need to do is crook your little finger, and Hena would have whatever you wanted before you even asked.”
While there were times that Neithotep H’Sheifa despised her own nobility, she could never say she had wanted for anything. There were distinct advantages to her social class; she never had to worry about where her next meal came from or if she could replace a ruined article of clothing. If she wanted to bathe in gold and jewels she could, and she practically did, considering the opulence of Hei’s Sheifa’s bathing rooms. But every advantage had its disadvantage, and even as she lived in a gilded cage, she longed to be free of it. To make her own choices, her own mistakes, forge her own path and be able to say she was the one that chose it… She envied Ana a bit for that. Even if she shrouded herself in fantastical tales, at least they were tales she wove herself.
Gods, she really couldn’t keep her focus tonight, could she? Of course, Hena would only have provided the best flower for his mistress that he could. She would have to ask him where he got this.
I had this ruse, much like the fallen star. Anastasia of the Siren's Song, I called myself. Calling attention to oneself without giving up the truth is the hallmark of a bard.
Nia sat up and forced herself to pay attention, because she had come here with a purpose, damn it all. She needed to learn more about Ana, ensure she was worthy of her brother’s attentions. She couldn’t let this opportunity slip away from her simply because she was too high to focus.
“Yes, I found it… curious that you named yourself a fallen star,” Nia admitted, tilting her head curiously. “Particularly in a land like Egypt, where the stars are so sacred to us. I questioned if it was merely a… what’s the word… diversion, or if you truly thought yourself so important.” The poppy blunted her tongue, but her tone was not unkind. “But I suppose it makes sense, if you’re seeking attention. There is little else you could do that would draw more attention than that.”
The smoke that contained itself within the villa grew denser and denser, and Anastasia felt her mind drift off to the time her and Hena had just met. He'd taken her to an opium den, and Anastasia couldn't help but find herself entranced by the place. Naked women carried drugs and the resources for flame across the way, swaying their hips with their every step. Her gaze had wandered, as discretely as it could, before her mind was completely enraptured by the drug that sought to take her to the heights of the very stars she associated herself with. Now, the Greek could feel the disconnect, the slight tremor in her hands that followed with her sinking into the kline only for a languid motion to pull her back.
She nearly bumped into Nia when she pulled back from a deep inhale of the substance, a giggle on her lips before she followed those motions and took a deep draw of the smoke. More and more, the shivers racked her body, and Ana shifted her weight, intent upon bringing herself closer to Neithotep, if only to hear her better as she spoke. Drawing closer, the woman was a stunning creature, surely the sort to draw Ana's attention in most other circumstances. But, she was smarter than to allow shallow lust to overwhelm her intentions. She did, however, imagine the woman's flesh, unhindered by fabric, a momentary giggle escaping her lips before...
There was a soft flush upon her features, but she pulled back, resting her cheek on the kline they shared before twisting her body so as to let one olive-toned leg rest adjacent to the ewer that held the opium. Nia asked good questions, and the smirk cast upon her features along with the laugh she'd never heard before certainly served to endear her to the woman. It was only aided by the fact that, truly, she wanted Nia to like her. Akhenaten admitted everything to her, feelings she'd craved for desperately even while not being entirely sure of what they were. Stunned and captivated by it all at once, she admitted the growing fondness for him and called it love.
Because it was what it was. Surely, she'd never felt that way before. There was no need for anything else. No need to worry about money, or to preoccupy herself with the concerns that once plagued her. Identity in this... perhaps it was a suitable fate. But, the way that Nia seemed to phrase the life she led now... it seemed to denote that Anastasia had asked for this. She wouldn't have been wrong, before, to make that assertion. Plenty of men had been lulled by the siren's call that was Ana's voice. Including Akhenaten himself, when they'd met. But, the evolution of their feelings... she couldn't quite stop thinking about him and it drove her wild with a mixture of unsatisfied need and a fervent curiosity to see where the fates would take them.
"Taking care of me..." she trailed off, the phrase not quite sitting well with her, despite the apparent truth of it all.
"I didn't worry for money before... Your brother's gifts were lauded onto me, Nia. It's... not the same?"
She wondered if that were true. Certainly, before, she hadn't indulged in opium like this. Anastasia, while she maintained her body as she had before, hadn't gone out to work as a bard or steal much of anything at all. She was, in many ways, the trophy that Nia implied her to be. But... it wasn't her own making, her own conniving, that set this life up for her. It felt... relevant.
"The life I had before this change... It was profitable. I did well for myself. But, Hena asked me to stay here. I couldn't refuse him when he said he loved me."
She felt like she was repeating herself, and she nearly felt her features turn to a frown. But, the conversation moved on, and she wondered, truly, if she'd even said those words aloud. Could the opium have had her whispering them, mumbling them against her own lips as Nia moved onward towards a different observation? How staunchly would Anastasia defend her own honour, when she certainly felt complicit in the formation of the new life she led. She didn't seek to cling to the point. Nia seemed curious, her words blunted over and over again, and Ana nodded in agreement this time with them.
"It is not a diversion, nor an opinion. It is a story, metaphors that form reputations. Everything that I said is meant to create a snare, bring riches and attention over to me. Obviously, it worked. But... not how I thought it would. Your brother and I..." she trailed off, frowning somewhat at the idea she'd brought up of her own volition.
It wasn't like that with Hena, was it?
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The smoke that contained itself within the villa grew denser and denser, and Anastasia felt her mind drift off to the time her and Hena had just met. He'd taken her to an opium den, and Anastasia couldn't help but find herself entranced by the place. Naked women carried drugs and the resources for flame across the way, swaying their hips with their every step. Her gaze had wandered, as discretely as it could, before her mind was completely enraptured by the drug that sought to take her to the heights of the very stars she associated herself with. Now, the Greek could feel the disconnect, the slight tremor in her hands that followed with her sinking into the kline only for a languid motion to pull her back.
She nearly bumped into Nia when she pulled back from a deep inhale of the substance, a giggle on her lips before she followed those motions and took a deep draw of the smoke. More and more, the shivers racked her body, and Ana shifted her weight, intent upon bringing herself closer to Neithotep, if only to hear her better as she spoke. Drawing closer, the woman was a stunning creature, surely the sort to draw Ana's attention in most other circumstances. But, she was smarter than to allow shallow lust to overwhelm her intentions. She did, however, imagine the woman's flesh, unhindered by fabric, a momentary giggle escaping her lips before...
There was a soft flush upon her features, but she pulled back, resting her cheek on the kline they shared before twisting her body so as to let one olive-toned leg rest adjacent to the ewer that held the opium. Nia asked good questions, and the smirk cast upon her features along with the laugh she'd never heard before certainly served to endear her to the woman. It was only aided by the fact that, truly, she wanted Nia to like her. Akhenaten admitted everything to her, feelings she'd craved for desperately even while not being entirely sure of what they were. Stunned and captivated by it all at once, she admitted the growing fondness for him and called it love.
Because it was what it was. Surely, she'd never felt that way before. There was no need for anything else. No need to worry about money, or to preoccupy herself with the concerns that once plagued her. Identity in this... perhaps it was a suitable fate. But, the way that Nia seemed to phrase the life she led now... it seemed to denote that Anastasia had asked for this. She wouldn't have been wrong, before, to make that assertion. Plenty of men had been lulled by the siren's call that was Ana's voice. Including Akhenaten himself, when they'd met. But, the evolution of their feelings... she couldn't quite stop thinking about him and it drove her wild with a mixture of unsatisfied need and a fervent curiosity to see where the fates would take them.
"Taking care of me..." she trailed off, the phrase not quite sitting well with her, despite the apparent truth of it all.
"I didn't worry for money before... Your brother's gifts were lauded onto me, Nia. It's... not the same?"
She wondered if that were true. Certainly, before, she hadn't indulged in opium like this. Anastasia, while she maintained her body as she had before, hadn't gone out to work as a bard or steal much of anything at all. She was, in many ways, the trophy that Nia implied her to be. But... it wasn't her own making, her own conniving, that set this life up for her. It felt... relevant.
"The life I had before this change... It was profitable. I did well for myself. But, Hena asked me to stay here. I couldn't refuse him when he said he loved me."
She felt like she was repeating herself, and she nearly felt her features turn to a frown. But, the conversation moved on, and she wondered, truly, if she'd even said those words aloud. Could the opium have had her whispering them, mumbling them against her own lips as Nia moved onward towards a different observation? How staunchly would Anastasia defend her own honour, when she certainly felt complicit in the formation of the new life she led. She didn't seek to cling to the point. Nia seemed curious, her words blunted over and over again, and Ana nodded in agreement this time with them.
"It is not a diversion, nor an opinion. It is a story, metaphors that form reputations. Everything that I said is meant to create a snare, bring riches and attention over to me. Obviously, it worked. But... not how I thought it would. Your brother and I..." she trailed off, frowning somewhat at the idea she'd brought up of her own volition.
It wasn't like that with Hena, was it?
The smoke that contained itself within the villa grew denser and denser, and Anastasia felt her mind drift off to the time her and Hena had just met. He'd taken her to an opium den, and Anastasia couldn't help but find herself entranced by the place. Naked women carried drugs and the resources for flame across the way, swaying their hips with their every step. Her gaze had wandered, as discretely as it could, before her mind was completely enraptured by the drug that sought to take her to the heights of the very stars she associated herself with. Now, the Greek could feel the disconnect, the slight tremor in her hands that followed with her sinking into the kline only for a languid motion to pull her back.
She nearly bumped into Nia when she pulled back from a deep inhale of the substance, a giggle on her lips before she followed those motions and took a deep draw of the smoke. More and more, the shivers racked her body, and Ana shifted her weight, intent upon bringing herself closer to Neithotep, if only to hear her better as she spoke. Drawing closer, the woman was a stunning creature, surely the sort to draw Ana's attention in most other circumstances. But, she was smarter than to allow shallow lust to overwhelm her intentions. She did, however, imagine the woman's flesh, unhindered by fabric, a momentary giggle escaping her lips before...
There was a soft flush upon her features, but she pulled back, resting her cheek on the kline they shared before twisting her body so as to let one olive-toned leg rest adjacent to the ewer that held the opium. Nia asked good questions, and the smirk cast upon her features along with the laugh she'd never heard before certainly served to endear her to the woman. It was only aided by the fact that, truly, she wanted Nia to like her. Akhenaten admitted everything to her, feelings she'd craved for desperately even while not being entirely sure of what they were. Stunned and captivated by it all at once, she admitted the growing fondness for him and called it love.
Because it was what it was. Surely, she'd never felt that way before. There was no need for anything else. No need to worry about money, or to preoccupy herself with the concerns that once plagued her. Identity in this... perhaps it was a suitable fate. But, the way that Nia seemed to phrase the life she led now... it seemed to denote that Anastasia had asked for this. She wouldn't have been wrong, before, to make that assertion. Plenty of men had been lulled by the siren's call that was Ana's voice. Including Akhenaten himself, when they'd met. But, the evolution of their feelings... she couldn't quite stop thinking about him and it drove her wild with a mixture of unsatisfied need and a fervent curiosity to see where the fates would take them.
"Taking care of me..." she trailed off, the phrase not quite sitting well with her, despite the apparent truth of it all.
"I didn't worry for money before... Your brother's gifts were lauded onto me, Nia. It's... not the same?"
She wondered if that were true. Certainly, before, she hadn't indulged in opium like this. Anastasia, while she maintained her body as she had before, hadn't gone out to work as a bard or steal much of anything at all. She was, in many ways, the trophy that Nia implied her to be. But... it wasn't her own making, her own conniving, that set this life up for her. It felt... relevant.
"The life I had before this change... It was profitable. I did well for myself. But, Hena asked me to stay here. I couldn't refuse him when he said he loved me."
She felt like she was repeating herself, and she nearly felt her features turn to a frown. But, the conversation moved on, and she wondered, truly, if she'd even said those words aloud. Could the opium have had her whispering them, mumbling them against her own lips as Nia moved onward towards a different observation? How staunchly would Anastasia defend her own honour, when she certainly felt complicit in the formation of the new life she led. She didn't seek to cling to the point. Nia seemed curious, her words blunted over and over again, and Ana nodded in agreement this time with them.
"It is not a diversion, nor an opinion. It is a story, metaphors that form reputations. Everything that I said is meant to create a snare, bring riches and attention over to me. Obviously, it worked. But... not how I thought it would. Your brother and I..." she trailed off, frowning somewhat at the idea she'd brought up of her own volition.
It wasn't like that with Hena, was it?
Nia could tell Ana had taken some form of offense from her words, and even if she had wondered if the Greek woman was only after her brother for his money, that wasn’t what she meant. It was simply an observation that she no longer needed to spin her grandiose tales, as she had everything she could ask for right within her grasp. “I didn’t mean it that way,” she hurried to explain. Though she still had her reservations about her companion, she didn’t want to hurt her feelings, and she was worried she had. “I just meant… you don’t have to do anything any more if you don’t want to. My brother would give you anything you wanted. It’s an enviable position.”
It was a position that many women across Egypt would die to be in. Even if she never had to work a day in her life, she knew that experience did not hold true across other social classes. There were plenty of climbers who would do anything to secure the role Ana had, mistress to a wealthy heir. Surely, that was a good thing, right? To have achieved the status she did practically overnight?
The conversation moved on, and Nia was glad for it. “But it did work,” she pointed out at the other woman’s observation, her explanation that everything she did, the stories she told, were meant to bring more wealth in her direction. “Even if it wasn’t exactly how you expected. Life happens that way a lot. Unexpectedly.”
Gods, did she know it. While Nia had lived most of her life in oblivious bliss, these past few months had served to show her just how ‘unexpected’ life could be. She had so much to be thankful for because of that unpredictability that life displayed, but so many other things she never would have asked for. Now, if only she could find a way to rid herself of such things. Granted, she too, was in an enviable position; many women of her class and any other would enamor themselves of becoming the pharaoh’s mistress, obsessed with what they could gain. Status, riches, influence… Nia wanted none of these things, particularly not with the price that accompanied them. If another woman asked for what she had, she would happily give it over. If only it was that simple.
Your brother and I…
“I understand,” she murmured with the hint of a smile, seeking out Ana’s gaze. “Truly, I do. Love makes you do things you never thought you would. Turns your life down paths you never thought to trod. You don’t need to defend yourself simply because I am clumsy with my own words. As long as he makes you happy, and you do the same for him in return, it is none of my business. I only want to ensure that the woman who holds my brother’s heart really deserves it.”
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Nia could tell Ana had taken some form of offense from her words, and even if she had wondered if the Greek woman was only after her brother for his money, that wasn’t what she meant. It was simply an observation that she no longer needed to spin her grandiose tales, as she had everything she could ask for right within her grasp. “I didn’t mean it that way,” she hurried to explain. Though she still had her reservations about her companion, she didn’t want to hurt her feelings, and she was worried she had. “I just meant… you don’t have to do anything any more if you don’t want to. My brother would give you anything you wanted. It’s an enviable position.”
It was a position that many women across Egypt would die to be in. Even if she never had to work a day in her life, she knew that experience did not hold true across other social classes. There were plenty of climbers who would do anything to secure the role Ana had, mistress to a wealthy heir. Surely, that was a good thing, right? To have achieved the status she did practically overnight?
The conversation moved on, and Nia was glad for it. “But it did work,” she pointed out at the other woman’s observation, her explanation that everything she did, the stories she told, were meant to bring more wealth in her direction. “Even if it wasn’t exactly how you expected. Life happens that way a lot. Unexpectedly.”
Gods, did she know it. While Nia had lived most of her life in oblivious bliss, these past few months had served to show her just how ‘unexpected’ life could be. She had so much to be thankful for because of that unpredictability that life displayed, but so many other things she never would have asked for. Now, if only she could find a way to rid herself of such things. Granted, she too, was in an enviable position; many women of her class and any other would enamor themselves of becoming the pharaoh’s mistress, obsessed with what they could gain. Status, riches, influence… Nia wanted none of these things, particularly not with the price that accompanied them. If another woman asked for what she had, she would happily give it over. If only it was that simple.
Your brother and I…
“I understand,” she murmured with the hint of a smile, seeking out Ana’s gaze. “Truly, I do. Love makes you do things you never thought you would. Turns your life down paths you never thought to trod. You don’t need to defend yourself simply because I am clumsy with my own words. As long as he makes you happy, and you do the same for him in return, it is none of my business. I only want to ensure that the woman who holds my brother’s heart really deserves it.”
Nia could tell Ana had taken some form of offense from her words, and even if she had wondered if the Greek woman was only after her brother for his money, that wasn’t what she meant. It was simply an observation that she no longer needed to spin her grandiose tales, as she had everything she could ask for right within her grasp. “I didn’t mean it that way,” she hurried to explain. Though she still had her reservations about her companion, she didn’t want to hurt her feelings, and she was worried she had. “I just meant… you don’t have to do anything any more if you don’t want to. My brother would give you anything you wanted. It’s an enviable position.”
It was a position that many women across Egypt would die to be in. Even if she never had to work a day in her life, she knew that experience did not hold true across other social classes. There were plenty of climbers who would do anything to secure the role Ana had, mistress to a wealthy heir. Surely, that was a good thing, right? To have achieved the status she did practically overnight?
The conversation moved on, and Nia was glad for it. “But it did work,” she pointed out at the other woman’s observation, her explanation that everything she did, the stories she told, were meant to bring more wealth in her direction. “Even if it wasn’t exactly how you expected. Life happens that way a lot. Unexpectedly.”
Gods, did she know it. While Nia had lived most of her life in oblivious bliss, these past few months had served to show her just how ‘unexpected’ life could be. She had so much to be thankful for because of that unpredictability that life displayed, but so many other things she never would have asked for. Now, if only she could find a way to rid herself of such things. Granted, she too, was in an enviable position; many women of her class and any other would enamor themselves of becoming the pharaoh’s mistress, obsessed with what they could gain. Status, riches, influence… Nia wanted none of these things, particularly not with the price that accompanied them. If another woman asked for what she had, she would happily give it over. If only it was that simple.
Your brother and I…
“I understand,” she murmured with the hint of a smile, seeking out Ana’s gaze. “Truly, I do. Love makes you do things you never thought you would. Turns your life down paths you never thought to trod. You don’t need to defend yourself simply because I am clumsy with my own words. As long as he makes you happy, and you do the same for him in return, it is none of my business. I only want to ensure that the woman who holds my brother’s heart really deserves it.”
With feelings so new and difficult to control, Anastasia was left to scatter her emotions in a wind of misunderstandings. What Neithotep had said made her think, truly wonder about the life she held now and weighed it against what she'd known before. How happy was she in the past, singing and saying as a bard, traveling between the Greek kingdoms at her whims? How satisfying was a life given over to the Greek pantheon, spreading their legends, stealing in their name, and allowing others to fawn over her in the hopes that the Gods received some of the accolade? Was it selfishness masquerading as piety? Perhaps it was, but... weighing it against the simple flame of love for another, basking in the limelight of Akhenaten's affections and the comforts offered by it...
Which left her more fulfilled?
She couldn't be sure. The thoughts themselves ground slowly and meekly, attempting to curry favour out of her brain but it was lost. Lost in the shadow of intoxication, the deeper she plunged into her thoughts, the harder it was to work the dredge that would've sorted her mind. She decided not to reflect on it further, instead allowing herself to sink deeper into the lull, to revel in the sensations. Anastasia let herself sink into the sound of Nia's voice, listening to her assessment. She was right. Her ambitions for wealth and comforts had worked, even if it was in a way she didn't expect. She never soughtto manipulate Akhenaten, but... she'd ensnared him nonetheless.
A slow nod moved her head as she answered, clarifying what had happened between them. When Nia answered, she found a sort of understanding she hadn't expected at all. Was Nia in love, herself? Reputation placed Nia as a playful girl, one who felt things for several days, then let a suitor or a plaything go to move on to the next. Did someone genuinely captivate the girl? She spoke a profound sort of truth, one Anastasia would've never expected from her. Was this advice? Understanding? Anastasia expected a litany of questions and what she got instead was an intoxicated musing of the significance and guiding power of love.
Suffice it to say, the day was going outside of her comfort zone.
She arched her eyebrows as she moved forward, implying that once she determined Ana's deserving of Hena's feelings, her sort of cold involvement would be null and void. If she wasn't deemed worthy, would she seek to undermine her? Speak lies and slander into Hena's ear in an effort to ruin the love they shared? In the name of protecting her brother... Anastasia felt a chill flow down her spine, both at the prospect and how Ana would feel about it being done. How long would she lament Hena for? The very thought brought the fire of anger to her chest, muted and dull for the depressant that muted the severity of her feelings.
"Do I deserve him, Nia?"
The quiet question escaped Ana's lips as she drew closer. She sought to raise Nia's hand to place it at her own jawline, meeting the woman's gaze before she said,
"What measure do you use? Am I pretty enough? Authentic enough? Is learning my origin and moving past the ruses enough? I've wanted nothing more to impress you since we've met and I was on Hena's arm. But... those feelings grew so much deeper in the time since. Now...?"
She wasn't sure how to feel. Having Nia's approval would have her inexorably on Hena's arm, surely. But, wasn't she already there?
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With feelings so new and difficult to control, Anastasia was left to scatter her emotions in a wind of misunderstandings. What Neithotep had said made her think, truly wonder about the life she held now and weighed it against what she'd known before. How happy was she in the past, singing and saying as a bard, traveling between the Greek kingdoms at her whims? How satisfying was a life given over to the Greek pantheon, spreading their legends, stealing in their name, and allowing others to fawn over her in the hopes that the Gods received some of the accolade? Was it selfishness masquerading as piety? Perhaps it was, but... weighing it against the simple flame of love for another, basking in the limelight of Akhenaten's affections and the comforts offered by it...
Which left her more fulfilled?
She couldn't be sure. The thoughts themselves ground slowly and meekly, attempting to curry favour out of her brain but it was lost. Lost in the shadow of intoxication, the deeper she plunged into her thoughts, the harder it was to work the dredge that would've sorted her mind. She decided not to reflect on it further, instead allowing herself to sink deeper into the lull, to revel in the sensations. Anastasia let herself sink into the sound of Nia's voice, listening to her assessment. She was right. Her ambitions for wealth and comforts had worked, even if it was in a way she didn't expect. She never soughtto manipulate Akhenaten, but... she'd ensnared him nonetheless.
A slow nod moved her head as she answered, clarifying what had happened between them. When Nia answered, she found a sort of understanding she hadn't expected at all. Was Nia in love, herself? Reputation placed Nia as a playful girl, one who felt things for several days, then let a suitor or a plaything go to move on to the next. Did someone genuinely captivate the girl? She spoke a profound sort of truth, one Anastasia would've never expected from her. Was this advice? Understanding? Anastasia expected a litany of questions and what she got instead was an intoxicated musing of the significance and guiding power of love.
Suffice it to say, the day was going outside of her comfort zone.
She arched her eyebrows as she moved forward, implying that once she determined Ana's deserving of Hena's feelings, her sort of cold involvement would be null and void. If she wasn't deemed worthy, would she seek to undermine her? Speak lies and slander into Hena's ear in an effort to ruin the love they shared? In the name of protecting her brother... Anastasia felt a chill flow down her spine, both at the prospect and how Ana would feel about it being done. How long would she lament Hena for? The very thought brought the fire of anger to her chest, muted and dull for the depressant that muted the severity of her feelings.
"Do I deserve him, Nia?"
The quiet question escaped Ana's lips as she drew closer. She sought to raise Nia's hand to place it at her own jawline, meeting the woman's gaze before she said,
"What measure do you use? Am I pretty enough? Authentic enough? Is learning my origin and moving past the ruses enough? I've wanted nothing more to impress you since we've met and I was on Hena's arm. But... those feelings grew so much deeper in the time since. Now...?"
She wasn't sure how to feel. Having Nia's approval would have her inexorably on Hena's arm, surely. But, wasn't she already there?
With feelings so new and difficult to control, Anastasia was left to scatter her emotions in a wind of misunderstandings. What Neithotep had said made her think, truly wonder about the life she held now and weighed it against what she'd known before. How happy was she in the past, singing and saying as a bard, traveling between the Greek kingdoms at her whims? How satisfying was a life given over to the Greek pantheon, spreading their legends, stealing in their name, and allowing others to fawn over her in the hopes that the Gods received some of the accolade? Was it selfishness masquerading as piety? Perhaps it was, but... weighing it against the simple flame of love for another, basking in the limelight of Akhenaten's affections and the comforts offered by it...
Which left her more fulfilled?
She couldn't be sure. The thoughts themselves ground slowly and meekly, attempting to curry favour out of her brain but it was lost. Lost in the shadow of intoxication, the deeper she plunged into her thoughts, the harder it was to work the dredge that would've sorted her mind. She decided not to reflect on it further, instead allowing herself to sink deeper into the lull, to revel in the sensations. Anastasia let herself sink into the sound of Nia's voice, listening to her assessment. She was right. Her ambitions for wealth and comforts had worked, even if it was in a way she didn't expect. She never soughtto manipulate Akhenaten, but... she'd ensnared him nonetheless.
A slow nod moved her head as she answered, clarifying what had happened between them. When Nia answered, she found a sort of understanding she hadn't expected at all. Was Nia in love, herself? Reputation placed Nia as a playful girl, one who felt things for several days, then let a suitor or a plaything go to move on to the next. Did someone genuinely captivate the girl? She spoke a profound sort of truth, one Anastasia would've never expected from her. Was this advice? Understanding? Anastasia expected a litany of questions and what she got instead was an intoxicated musing of the significance and guiding power of love.
Suffice it to say, the day was going outside of her comfort zone.
She arched her eyebrows as she moved forward, implying that once she determined Ana's deserving of Hena's feelings, her sort of cold involvement would be null and void. If she wasn't deemed worthy, would she seek to undermine her? Speak lies and slander into Hena's ear in an effort to ruin the love they shared? In the name of protecting her brother... Anastasia felt a chill flow down her spine, both at the prospect and how Ana would feel about it being done. How long would she lament Hena for? The very thought brought the fire of anger to her chest, muted and dull for the depressant that muted the severity of her feelings.
"Do I deserve him, Nia?"
The quiet question escaped Ana's lips as she drew closer. She sought to raise Nia's hand to place it at her own jawline, meeting the woman's gaze before she said,
"What measure do you use? Am I pretty enough? Authentic enough? Is learning my origin and moving past the ruses enough? I've wanted nothing more to impress you since we've met and I was on Hena's arm. But... those feelings grew so much deeper in the time since. Now...?"
She wasn't sure how to feel. Having Nia's approval would have her inexorably on Hena's arm, surely. But, wasn't she already there?
The sudden touch of Ana’s hand pulling hers to her face had Nia blinking in surprise, an urgency in the bard’s voice that hadn’t been there previously. Her gaze flicked between the woman’s eyes, observing the desperation in her features as the other woman asked her how worthy she was. Was it her beauty? Her authenticity? The validity of her claims? Truthfully, it was more of a gut instinct than anything, and Nia was at a loss for how to answer.
She did not move from the position Ana placed her in, her other hand coming to cup the opposite side of the woman’s face. “If you love him, and he loves you, that is what matters,” she murmured in response, pupils dilated into the dark depths of her already nearly black gaze. It leant her an almost ethereal quality as she searched Ana’s own gaze, brows drawing together in the barest hint of a frown. “It is not beauty or wealth that concerns me, but intent. And up until today… I will admit I doubted that intent.”
Dropping her hands from the woman’s face, she leaned back against the kline, though the direction of her eyes never faltered. “Our family is powerful and wealthy, you understand, which no doubt was at least part of Akhenaten’s draw, I’m sure,” she said with a raise of her brow, wondering if Ana would give any truth to that claim. “Because of that wealth and power, there are those who would seeks us out with the intent to exploit it.” In spite of her flightiness and overall unconcerned demeanor, Nia could be surprisingly astute, even in the depths of an opium haze. Perhaps especially then. “And that’s what I thought you were doing. Exploiting him and using him for your own ends. Had that proved true…”
Shrugging, she looked away for a moment. Nia was not a cruel woman, not by any means, far more likely to befriend than seek enmity. But where her brother was concerned, she was fiercely protective, believing her parents did not perform their job well enough—not when it came to the two of them. Had Ana proven herself a false flatterer, Nia would have done what she had to in order to see her expelled from the family and out of her brother’s heart. She held enough sway over Hena that she was sure she could have convinced him, had it become necessary. But after today, she no longer felt that was the case.
Nia turned to look back at Ana with a smile. “I would’ve done what any loving sister would have done. Hena is very important to me, you know. More important to me than anyone. And I will guard him more fiercely than I would guard even my own life. Our bond is not just brother and sister, it is… deeper than that. He is my blood, yes, but he is also my very dearest friend. I do not… tolerate those would take advantage of him.”
Taking Ana’s hand, she squeezed it gently. “Love him as he loves you. Show him the world is not all anger and cruelty. Then, I think, you will deserve him.”
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The sudden touch of Ana’s hand pulling hers to her face had Nia blinking in surprise, an urgency in the bard’s voice that hadn’t been there previously. Her gaze flicked between the woman’s eyes, observing the desperation in her features as the other woman asked her how worthy she was. Was it her beauty? Her authenticity? The validity of her claims? Truthfully, it was more of a gut instinct than anything, and Nia was at a loss for how to answer.
She did not move from the position Ana placed her in, her other hand coming to cup the opposite side of the woman’s face. “If you love him, and he loves you, that is what matters,” she murmured in response, pupils dilated into the dark depths of her already nearly black gaze. It leant her an almost ethereal quality as she searched Ana’s own gaze, brows drawing together in the barest hint of a frown. “It is not beauty or wealth that concerns me, but intent. And up until today… I will admit I doubted that intent.”
Dropping her hands from the woman’s face, she leaned back against the kline, though the direction of her eyes never faltered. “Our family is powerful and wealthy, you understand, which no doubt was at least part of Akhenaten’s draw, I’m sure,” she said with a raise of her brow, wondering if Ana would give any truth to that claim. “Because of that wealth and power, there are those who would seeks us out with the intent to exploit it.” In spite of her flightiness and overall unconcerned demeanor, Nia could be surprisingly astute, even in the depths of an opium haze. Perhaps especially then. “And that’s what I thought you were doing. Exploiting him and using him for your own ends. Had that proved true…”
Shrugging, she looked away for a moment. Nia was not a cruel woman, not by any means, far more likely to befriend than seek enmity. But where her brother was concerned, she was fiercely protective, believing her parents did not perform their job well enough—not when it came to the two of them. Had Ana proven herself a false flatterer, Nia would have done what she had to in order to see her expelled from the family and out of her brother’s heart. She held enough sway over Hena that she was sure she could have convinced him, had it become necessary. But after today, she no longer felt that was the case.
Nia turned to look back at Ana with a smile. “I would’ve done what any loving sister would have done. Hena is very important to me, you know. More important to me than anyone. And I will guard him more fiercely than I would guard even my own life. Our bond is not just brother and sister, it is… deeper than that. He is my blood, yes, but he is also my very dearest friend. I do not… tolerate those would take advantage of him.”
Taking Ana’s hand, she squeezed it gently. “Love him as he loves you. Show him the world is not all anger and cruelty. Then, I think, you will deserve him.”
The sudden touch of Ana’s hand pulling hers to her face had Nia blinking in surprise, an urgency in the bard’s voice that hadn’t been there previously. Her gaze flicked between the woman’s eyes, observing the desperation in her features as the other woman asked her how worthy she was. Was it her beauty? Her authenticity? The validity of her claims? Truthfully, it was more of a gut instinct than anything, and Nia was at a loss for how to answer.
She did not move from the position Ana placed her in, her other hand coming to cup the opposite side of the woman’s face. “If you love him, and he loves you, that is what matters,” she murmured in response, pupils dilated into the dark depths of her already nearly black gaze. It leant her an almost ethereal quality as she searched Ana’s own gaze, brows drawing together in the barest hint of a frown. “It is not beauty or wealth that concerns me, but intent. And up until today… I will admit I doubted that intent.”
Dropping her hands from the woman’s face, she leaned back against the kline, though the direction of her eyes never faltered. “Our family is powerful and wealthy, you understand, which no doubt was at least part of Akhenaten’s draw, I’m sure,” she said with a raise of her brow, wondering if Ana would give any truth to that claim. “Because of that wealth and power, there are those who would seeks us out with the intent to exploit it.” In spite of her flightiness and overall unconcerned demeanor, Nia could be surprisingly astute, even in the depths of an opium haze. Perhaps especially then. “And that’s what I thought you were doing. Exploiting him and using him for your own ends. Had that proved true…”
Shrugging, she looked away for a moment. Nia was not a cruel woman, not by any means, far more likely to befriend than seek enmity. But where her brother was concerned, she was fiercely protective, believing her parents did not perform their job well enough—not when it came to the two of them. Had Ana proven herself a false flatterer, Nia would have done what she had to in order to see her expelled from the family and out of her brother’s heart. She held enough sway over Hena that she was sure she could have convinced him, had it become necessary. But after today, she no longer felt that was the case.
Nia turned to look back at Ana with a smile. “I would’ve done what any loving sister would have done. Hena is very important to me, you know. More important to me than anyone. And I will guard him more fiercely than I would guard even my own life. Our bond is not just brother and sister, it is… deeper than that. He is my blood, yes, but he is also my very dearest friend. I do not… tolerate those would take advantage of him.”
Taking Ana’s hand, she squeezed it gently. “Love him as he loves you. Show him the world is not all anger and cruelty. Then, I think, you will deserve him.”
Enough.
It is impossible to impress everyone. Inevitably, as one chased the approval of others like Ana did, there was bound to be a critic. A hater. Someone who made ruin of the good things that someone created. While Anastasia did her utmost to ignore such people, whether it was one in the crowd letting out jeers, or the odd heckler coming to her after such a show... she wasn't new to the notion of criticism. But, the idea of being judged harshly, by Hena, by Neithotep... that wounded her. Akhenaten claimed his love for her, but what if she couldn't hold onto it? Doubts about a situation she'd never personally sought arose within the drug-addled Anastasia's mind, but once she felt Nia's fingertips draw along her jawline...
Her eyes fell shut. She didn't want to look at Neithotep, lest her disapproval come out in such close proximity. It wouldn't do to see the ire in the woman's eyes and yet... it never came. She'd expected it, protected herself from it, but then Neithotep sought to throw her expectations out the window with... a platitude? Anastasia, from the multitude of stories told to and by her about love thought she might've known something. Anything. But, when thrust in the middle of it all, she didn't. She held a feeling, a frightening, warm... unknown.
But, Nia's words served to push her back over the edge. Flickers of her hazel irises could be seen, but the majority of that colour was taken over by significantly dilated orbs. Ana felt the shivers of pleasure at the smooth touch upon her jawline, then the absence of that feeling altogether when she pulled away. Ana pulled back, as well, her eyes finally opening as the noblewoman turned her attentions towards family and creating an opinion about Ana's initial intentions.
"I will admit I doubted that intent."
Of course you did. When we met, Hena and my... liaison was still new... not yet properly... claimed. And then you got robbed.
Anastasia didn't and wouldn't blame Nia's prejudices against her. It was only natural, given the circumstances. But, all seemed to draw towards the understanding Ana sought out. It was almost... heartwarming just how deeply Nia cared for her brother's happiness. Even if that care had been at Ana's expense for a while, yet.
"Did I tell you how we met, Lady Nia?" she asked, a rhetorical question if there was any. Today was the first day they'd exchanged anything but polite hellos or awkward glances when Ana stole her brother away.
"We caught each other's eye while I was singing in his favourite tavern. Your brother has the most piercing stare, doesn't he?" she teased, not quite wanting to make the woman uncomfortable, but the beginning of every story led with insights to its end.
"He called me over, tried to sway me into his game, and we went to an opium den. It was my first time... partaking, and I wandered off in a daze. Imagine yourself in my place, catching the attention of this lovely noble boy and such an opportunity slipping through his fingers and my own!"
Ana had begun to laugh, a girlish sound that shook her shoulders and pushed her body against her side of the kline.
"So confident, so sure of himself. Such a handsome face. It wasn't until later on, when he introduced himself that I was certain of his means. Sure, it was part of the draw at that point, but it wasn't what kept me drawn to him."
Then, she motioned around, looking to the four walls of her new home.
"He surprised me with all of this so soon after. When he comes for me, my dear lady Neithotep, I am never cruel. He's never angry with me. Maybe the Akhenaten you've seen is that man... but I've never seen it."
Not yet, anyway.
What else might time teach her about this new love?
"I want to follow the path these feelings take me on."
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Enough.
It is impossible to impress everyone. Inevitably, as one chased the approval of others like Ana did, there was bound to be a critic. A hater. Someone who made ruin of the good things that someone created. While Anastasia did her utmost to ignore such people, whether it was one in the crowd letting out jeers, or the odd heckler coming to her after such a show... she wasn't new to the notion of criticism. But, the idea of being judged harshly, by Hena, by Neithotep... that wounded her. Akhenaten claimed his love for her, but what if she couldn't hold onto it? Doubts about a situation she'd never personally sought arose within the drug-addled Anastasia's mind, but once she felt Nia's fingertips draw along her jawline...
Her eyes fell shut. She didn't want to look at Neithotep, lest her disapproval come out in such close proximity. It wouldn't do to see the ire in the woman's eyes and yet... it never came. She'd expected it, protected herself from it, but then Neithotep sought to throw her expectations out the window with... a platitude? Anastasia, from the multitude of stories told to and by her about love thought she might've known something. Anything. But, when thrust in the middle of it all, she didn't. She held a feeling, a frightening, warm... unknown.
But, Nia's words served to push her back over the edge. Flickers of her hazel irises could be seen, but the majority of that colour was taken over by significantly dilated orbs. Ana felt the shivers of pleasure at the smooth touch upon her jawline, then the absence of that feeling altogether when she pulled away. Ana pulled back, as well, her eyes finally opening as the noblewoman turned her attentions towards family and creating an opinion about Ana's initial intentions.
"I will admit I doubted that intent."
Of course you did. When we met, Hena and my... liaison was still new... not yet properly... claimed. And then you got robbed.
Anastasia didn't and wouldn't blame Nia's prejudices against her. It was only natural, given the circumstances. But, all seemed to draw towards the understanding Ana sought out. It was almost... heartwarming just how deeply Nia cared for her brother's happiness. Even if that care had been at Ana's expense for a while, yet.
"Did I tell you how we met, Lady Nia?" she asked, a rhetorical question if there was any. Today was the first day they'd exchanged anything but polite hellos or awkward glances when Ana stole her brother away.
"We caught each other's eye while I was singing in his favourite tavern. Your brother has the most piercing stare, doesn't he?" she teased, not quite wanting to make the woman uncomfortable, but the beginning of every story led with insights to its end.
"He called me over, tried to sway me into his game, and we went to an opium den. It was my first time... partaking, and I wandered off in a daze. Imagine yourself in my place, catching the attention of this lovely noble boy and such an opportunity slipping through his fingers and my own!"
Ana had begun to laugh, a girlish sound that shook her shoulders and pushed her body against her side of the kline.
"So confident, so sure of himself. Such a handsome face. It wasn't until later on, when he introduced himself that I was certain of his means. Sure, it was part of the draw at that point, but it wasn't what kept me drawn to him."
Then, she motioned around, looking to the four walls of her new home.
"He surprised me with all of this so soon after. When he comes for me, my dear lady Neithotep, I am never cruel. He's never angry with me. Maybe the Akhenaten you've seen is that man... but I've never seen it."
Not yet, anyway.
What else might time teach her about this new love?
"I want to follow the path these feelings take me on."
Enough.
It is impossible to impress everyone. Inevitably, as one chased the approval of others like Ana did, there was bound to be a critic. A hater. Someone who made ruin of the good things that someone created. While Anastasia did her utmost to ignore such people, whether it was one in the crowd letting out jeers, or the odd heckler coming to her after such a show... she wasn't new to the notion of criticism. But, the idea of being judged harshly, by Hena, by Neithotep... that wounded her. Akhenaten claimed his love for her, but what if she couldn't hold onto it? Doubts about a situation she'd never personally sought arose within the drug-addled Anastasia's mind, but once she felt Nia's fingertips draw along her jawline...
Her eyes fell shut. She didn't want to look at Neithotep, lest her disapproval come out in such close proximity. It wouldn't do to see the ire in the woman's eyes and yet... it never came. She'd expected it, protected herself from it, but then Neithotep sought to throw her expectations out the window with... a platitude? Anastasia, from the multitude of stories told to and by her about love thought she might've known something. Anything. But, when thrust in the middle of it all, she didn't. She held a feeling, a frightening, warm... unknown.
But, Nia's words served to push her back over the edge. Flickers of her hazel irises could be seen, but the majority of that colour was taken over by significantly dilated orbs. Ana felt the shivers of pleasure at the smooth touch upon her jawline, then the absence of that feeling altogether when she pulled away. Ana pulled back, as well, her eyes finally opening as the noblewoman turned her attentions towards family and creating an opinion about Ana's initial intentions.
"I will admit I doubted that intent."
Of course you did. When we met, Hena and my... liaison was still new... not yet properly... claimed. And then you got robbed.
Anastasia didn't and wouldn't blame Nia's prejudices against her. It was only natural, given the circumstances. But, all seemed to draw towards the understanding Ana sought out. It was almost... heartwarming just how deeply Nia cared for her brother's happiness. Even if that care had been at Ana's expense for a while, yet.
"Did I tell you how we met, Lady Nia?" she asked, a rhetorical question if there was any. Today was the first day they'd exchanged anything but polite hellos or awkward glances when Ana stole her brother away.
"We caught each other's eye while I was singing in his favourite tavern. Your brother has the most piercing stare, doesn't he?" she teased, not quite wanting to make the woman uncomfortable, but the beginning of every story led with insights to its end.
"He called me over, tried to sway me into his game, and we went to an opium den. It was my first time... partaking, and I wandered off in a daze. Imagine yourself in my place, catching the attention of this lovely noble boy and such an opportunity slipping through his fingers and my own!"
Ana had begun to laugh, a girlish sound that shook her shoulders and pushed her body against her side of the kline.
"So confident, so sure of himself. Such a handsome face. It wasn't until later on, when he introduced himself that I was certain of his means. Sure, it was part of the draw at that point, but it wasn't what kept me drawn to him."
Then, she motioned around, looking to the four walls of her new home.
"He surprised me with all of this so soon after. When he comes for me, my dear lady Neithotep, I am never cruel. He's never angry with me. Maybe the Akhenaten you've seen is that man... but I've never seen it."
Not yet, anyway.
What else might time teach her about this new love?
"I want to follow the path these feelings take me on."