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It was not so difficult, Zein thought, to perform in the streets of a large city. It didn’t attract the same type of following as his performances in small villages, but it still attracted a profit. And a profit was what he desperately needed these days. He had been spoiled the last few years, living with his patron. He had been spoiled and lazy. She had been right to throw him out. Of course, he could say that now with hindsight. At the time, he had felt rather bitter about it. His first taste of luxury and he had thrown it all away. But rather than let it bog him down, Zein had risen up and accepted the challenges before him. He had always seen challenges in his life and three years of luxury had not been enough to forget that. Zein was a fighter and now he had more of a purpose than ever.
He wanted to become a great performer. Not one that was sheltered and hidden away for the rich, but one that would be admired by many, rich and poor alike. He could only do that by starting to perform. After leaving Thebes, he had traveled around Egypt some more, reminiscent of his early days in the country. However, he quickly realized that in order to reach fame, he would have to travel to the larger cities. So, he went to one of the largest cities he knew: Cairo.
Cairo was an interesting place. There were certainly more people around and it had taken Zein some time to figure out where it was best to perform and where he could attract the most attention. Luckily, performing in Egypt was never as worrying as performing in Judea had been. Here, he was free to do as he liked, and as long as he wasn’t bothering anyone’s place of business, he could be left to his own devices.
Today, he had taken up a corner of the Grand Souk, and a sizeable crowd had gathered. He went about his usual routine, adding some flips and acrobatics to his juggling. The audience always gave a satisfying ovation when he was able to resume to juggling after a summersault. It had taken many hours of practice, but was now a fine art to Zein. At the end of his performance, he sent a young boy through the crowd to collect his coin and scanned the audience for anyone interesting. Sometimes he found nobody, but other times, like today, there was a beautiful creature who caught his eye.
Smiling, he moved to the edge of the crowd, where there was a young woman, possibly noble based on her clothing. Though that wasn’t what motivated him. She was gorgeous and had been watching him with a keen interest. Zein wondered if she might want to do more.
“Did you enjoy the performance?” he asked, approaching. He had a slight sheen on his chest from the performance, but it wasn’t enough for him to pull on his top just yet. Zein knew his audience might appreciate him more shirtless than not—at least he hoped that was the case.
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It was not so difficult, Zein thought, to perform in the streets of a large city. It didn’t attract the same type of following as his performances in small villages, but it still attracted a profit. And a profit was what he desperately needed these days. He had been spoiled the last few years, living with his patron. He had been spoiled and lazy. She had been right to throw him out. Of course, he could say that now with hindsight. At the time, he had felt rather bitter about it. His first taste of luxury and he had thrown it all away. But rather than let it bog him down, Zein had risen up and accepted the challenges before him. He had always seen challenges in his life and three years of luxury had not been enough to forget that. Zein was a fighter and now he had more of a purpose than ever.
He wanted to become a great performer. Not one that was sheltered and hidden away for the rich, but one that would be admired by many, rich and poor alike. He could only do that by starting to perform. After leaving Thebes, he had traveled around Egypt some more, reminiscent of his early days in the country. However, he quickly realized that in order to reach fame, he would have to travel to the larger cities. So, he went to one of the largest cities he knew: Cairo.
Cairo was an interesting place. There were certainly more people around and it had taken Zein some time to figure out where it was best to perform and where he could attract the most attention. Luckily, performing in Egypt was never as worrying as performing in Judea had been. Here, he was free to do as he liked, and as long as he wasn’t bothering anyone’s place of business, he could be left to his own devices.
Today, he had taken up a corner of the Grand Souk, and a sizeable crowd had gathered. He went about his usual routine, adding some flips and acrobatics to his juggling. The audience always gave a satisfying ovation when he was able to resume to juggling after a summersault. It had taken many hours of practice, but was now a fine art to Zein. At the end of his performance, he sent a young boy through the crowd to collect his coin and scanned the audience for anyone interesting. Sometimes he found nobody, but other times, like today, there was a beautiful creature who caught his eye.
Smiling, he moved to the edge of the crowd, where there was a young woman, possibly noble based on her clothing. Though that wasn’t what motivated him. She was gorgeous and had been watching him with a keen interest. Zein wondered if she might want to do more.
“Did you enjoy the performance?” he asked, approaching. He had a slight sheen on his chest from the performance, but it wasn’t enough for him to pull on his top just yet. Zein knew his audience might appreciate him more shirtless than not—at least he hoped that was the case.
It was not so difficult, Zein thought, to perform in the streets of a large city. It didn’t attract the same type of following as his performances in small villages, but it still attracted a profit. And a profit was what he desperately needed these days. He had been spoiled the last few years, living with his patron. He had been spoiled and lazy. She had been right to throw him out. Of course, he could say that now with hindsight. At the time, he had felt rather bitter about it. His first taste of luxury and he had thrown it all away. But rather than let it bog him down, Zein had risen up and accepted the challenges before him. He had always seen challenges in his life and three years of luxury had not been enough to forget that. Zein was a fighter and now he had more of a purpose than ever.
He wanted to become a great performer. Not one that was sheltered and hidden away for the rich, but one that would be admired by many, rich and poor alike. He could only do that by starting to perform. After leaving Thebes, he had traveled around Egypt some more, reminiscent of his early days in the country. However, he quickly realized that in order to reach fame, he would have to travel to the larger cities. So, he went to one of the largest cities he knew: Cairo.
Cairo was an interesting place. There were certainly more people around and it had taken Zein some time to figure out where it was best to perform and where he could attract the most attention. Luckily, performing in Egypt was never as worrying as performing in Judea had been. Here, he was free to do as he liked, and as long as he wasn’t bothering anyone’s place of business, he could be left to his own devices.
Today, he had taken up a corner of the Grand Souk, and a sizeable crowd had gathered. He went about his usual routine, adding some flips and acrobatics to his juggling. The audience always gave a satisfying ovation when he was able to resume to juggling after a summersault. It had taken many hours of practice, but was now a fine art to Zein. At the end of his performance, he sent a young boy through the crowd to collect his coin and scanned the audience for anyone interesting. Sometimes he found nobody, but other times, like today, there was a beautiful creature who caught his eye.
Smiling, he moved to the edge of the crowd, where there was a young woman, possibly noble based on her clothing. Though that wasn’t what motivated him. She was gorgeous and had been watching him with a keen interest. Zein wondered if she might want to do more.
“Did you enjoy the performance?” he asked, approaching. He had a slight sheen on his chest from the performance, but it wasn’t enough for him to pull on his top just yet. Zein knew his audience might appreciate him more shirtless than not—at least he hoped that was the case.
It wasn't often that Nefertaari's attention was caught by a street performer. Often their talent was severely lacking, and sometimes they were simply nothing more than an eyesore. The noblewoman was, in fact, dressed in clothing indicative of her status. A thin, nearly transparent sheath dress adorned her figure, accented with gold and rubies. She tilted her chin upward slightly, as if to look down her nose at him, but given her height--or lack thereof--there was nothing visibly intimidating about the small courtier. Zein towered over her.
"Is that what you call that?" Nefertaari asked, her voice honeyed. A smile teased the corner of her mouth upward slightly. "There are better uses for a strong, healthy man like you."
The snide remark was sweetened by her tone. Nefertaari took a single step backwards, though whether it was because she was wary or she felt the need to provide Zein with his own personal space. Her body shifted, weight favoring her right leg as her arms crossed over her torso. Her gaze swept over the crowd as it dispersed, and it wasn't until there were only a few stragglers remaining the woman would look back at Zein.
"I suppose now is the time you pick a lady from the audience to pester for the night?" After she asked the question, Nefertaari's dark gaze locked with his, curiously. "It seems your taste is decent, at least."
That was her vanity, bleeding through like an inflamed, festering wound. Few were more proud than she. Her smile continued to spread across painted lips, though any mirth she displayed hardly went any deeper than her skin.
"It would seem like I'm that lady. So tell me, what is it you're seeking?" Nefertaari queried. Her gaze swept away again, thoughtfully roaming the walkways and the various shops and buildings that lined it. She spotted a tavern and made note of it, thinking it might be a nice place to visit when her exchange with Zein was over.
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It wasn't often that Nefertaari's attention was caught by a street performer. Often their talent was severely lacking, and sometimes they were simply nothing more than an eyesore. The noblewoman was, in fact, dressed in clothing indicative of her status. A thin, nearly transparent sheath dress adorned her figure, accented with gold and rubies. She tilted her chin upward slightly, as if to look down her nose at him, but given her height--or lack thereof--there was nothing visibly intimidating about the small courtier. Zein towered over her.
"Is that what you call that?" Nefertaari asked, her voice honeyed. A smile teased the corner of her mouth upward slightly. "There are better uses for a strong, healthy man like you."
The snide remark was sweetened by her tone. Nefertaari took a single step backwards, though whether it was because she was wary or she felt the need to provide Zein with his own personal space. Her body shifted, weight favoring her right leg as her arms crossed over her torso. Her gaze swept over the crowd as it dispersed, and it wasn't until there were only a few stragglers remaining the woman would look back at Zein.
"I suppose now is the time you pick a lady from the audience to pester for the night?" After she asked the question, Nefertaari's dark gaze locked with his, curiously. "It seems your taste is decent, at least."
That was her vanity, bleeding through like an inflamed, festering wound. Few were more proud than she. Her smile continued to spread across painted lips, though any mirth she displayed hardly went any deeper than her skin.
"It would seem like I'm that lady. So tell me, what is it you're seeking?" Nefertaari queried. Her gaze swept away again, thoughtfully roaming the walkways and the various shops and buildings that lined it. She spotted a tavern and made note of it, thinking it might be a nice place to visit when her exchange with Zein was over.
It wasn't often that Nefertaari's attention was caught by a street performer. Often their talent was severely lacking, and sometimes they were simply nothing more than an eyesore. The noblewoman was, in fact, dressed in clothing indicative of her status. A thin, nearly transparent sheath dress adorned her figure, accented with gold and rubies. She tilted her chin upward slightly, as if to look down her nose at him, but given her height--or lack thereof--there was nothing visibly intimidating about the small courtier. Zein towered over her.
"Is that what you call that?" Nefertaari asked, her voice honeyed. A smile teased the corner of her mouth upward slightly. "There are better uses for a strong, healthy man like you."
The snide remark was sweetened by her tone. Nefertaari took a single step backwards, though whether it was because she was wary or she felt the need to provide Zein with his own personal space. Her body shifted, weight favoring her right leg as her arms crossed over her torso. Her gaze swept over the crowd as it dispersed, and it wasn't until there were only a few stragglers remaining the woman would look back at Zein.
"I suppose now is the time you pick a lady from the audience to pester for the night?" After she asked the question, Nefertaari's dark gaze locked with his, curiously. "It seems your taste is decent, at least."
That was her vanity, bleeding through like an inflamed, festering wound. Few were more proud than she. Her smile continued to spread across painted lips, though any mirth she displayed hardly went any deeper than her skin.
"It would seem like I'm that lady. So tell me, what is it you're seeking?" Nefertaari queried. Her gaze swept away again, thoughtfully roaming the walkways and the various shops and buildings that lined it. She spotted a tavern and made note of it, thinking it might be a nice place to visit when her exchange with Zein was over.
Oh, this one had a bite. Zein found himself immediately pleased with his choice. She had appeared interested by looks alone, but had the personality to back it. The juggler grinned back, amused by her outward suggestion that there were better things for him to be doing—and with less clothing. He didn’t disagree, though the performer in him objected to dismissing his joy and career so quickly. Of course, there were plenty of things that brought him joy. Perhaps she would be one of them.
Encouraged by her talk, he took a step forward as she took a step back, not wanting to lose any space between them. It was much easier for them to talk when they were closer. “Yes, but this use suits me so well,” he replied, a faint trace of an accent dulled by many years living in Egypt. It hadn’t taken him long to pick up Coptic—he’d done what was necessary to survive in a new land. That meant learning the language. He was lucky in the fact that he had several excellent tutors. Still, he couldn’t erase the first eighteen years of his life, no matter how much he might have wished to.
So, she was as smart as she was beautiful. It might not be hard to discern his intentions, but he appreciated the forward approach. That meant it would be clearer later whether or not she was truly interested. If not, he would leave her in search of someone else. For all his womanizing, Zein did have a great respect for the opposite sex. He had learned well the appeal of an eager woman. He liked to give just as much as he received.
“You’re not wrong,” he said, a grin still on his face. He was starting to chill now that the performance was over and his heart rate had slowed. Fortunately, he would also need his tunic were they to go anywhere. “And I am glad for the recommendation. It can be surprisingly difficult to find someone interesting to spend my time with.”
He found the smile on her red lips intoxicating. She was truly stunning and full of fire, it seemed. Zein appreciated an interesting woman. They made life so much fun. “I’m just looking for company and a conversation,” he answered her question. “I am a traveler, you see, with no friends nearby. I enjoy getting to know the locals.”
Zein would let her decide what he meant, following her gaze to a nearby tavern. It seemed she wasn’t so quick to get rid of him and he the same. “I am Zein,” he introduced himself. “Would you care to share a drink?” He hurt to spend his coin, as always. It was the remnants of living with nothing on the streets. That would always follow him. But sometimes it was worth it to spend a little coin. “There is a nice place nearby.”
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Oh, this one had a bite. Zein found himself immediately pleased with his choice. She had appeared interested by looks alone, but had the personality to back it. The juggler grinned back, amused by her outward suggestion that there were better things for him to be doing—and with less clothing. He didn’t disagree, though the performer in him objected to dismissing his joy and career so quickly. Of course, there were plenty of things that brought him joy. Perhaps she would be one of them.
Encouraged by her talk, he took a step forward as she took a step back, not wanting to lose any space between them. It was much easier for them to talk when they were closer. “Yes, but this use suits me so well,” he replied, a faint trace of an accent dulled by many years living in Egypt. It hadn’t taken him long to pick up Coptic—he’d done what was necessary to survive in a new land. That meant learning the language. He was lucky in the fact that he had several excellent tutors. Still, he couldn’t erase the first eighteen years of his life, no matter how much he might have wished to.
So, she was as smart as she was beautiful. It might not be hard to discern his intentions, but he appreciated the forward approach. That meant it would be clearer later whether or not she was truly interested. If not, he would leave her in search of someone else. For all his womanizing, Zein did have a great respect for the opposite sex. He had learned well the appeal of an eager woman. He liked to give just as much as he received.
“You’re not wrong,” he said, a grin still on his face. He was starting to chill now that the performance was over and his heart rate had slowed. Fortunately, he would also need his tunic were they to go anywhere. “And I am glad for the recommendation. It can be surprisingly difficult to find someone interesting to spend my time with.”
He found the smile on her red lips intoxicating. She was truly stunning and full of fire, it seemed. Zein appreciated an interesting woman. They made life so much fun. “I’m just looking for company and a conversation,” he answered her question. “I am a traveler, you see, with no friends nearby. I enjoy getting to know the locals.”
Zein would let her decide what he meant, following her gaze to a nearby tavern. It seemed she wasn’t so quick to get rid of him and he the same. “I am Zein,” he introduced himself. “Would you care to share a drink?” He hurt to spend his coin, as always. It was the remnants of living with nothing on the streets. That would always follow him. But sometimes it was worth it to spend a little coin. “There is a nice place nearby.”
Oh, this one had a bite. Zein found himself immediately pleased with his choice. She had appeared interested by looks alone, but had the personality to back it. The juggler grinned back, amused by her outward suggestion that there were better things for him to be doing—and with less clothing. He didn’t disagree, though the performer in him objected to dismissing his joy and career so quickly. Of course, there were plenty of things that brought him joy. Perhaps she would be one of them.
Encouraged by her talk, he took a step forward as she took a step back, not wanting to lose any space between them. It was much easier for them to talk when they were closer. “Yes, but this use suits me so well,” he replied, a faint trace of an accent dulled by many years living in Egypt. It hadn’t taken him long to pick up Coptic—he’d done what was necessary to survive in a new land. That meant learning the language. He was lucky in the fact that he had several excellent tutors. Still, he couldn’t erase the first eighteen years of his life, no matter how much he might have wished to.
So, she was as smart as she was beautiful. It might not be hard to discern his intentions, but he appreciated the forward approach. That meant it would be clearer later whether or not she was truly interested. If not, he would leave her in search of someone else. For all his womanizing, Zein did have a great respect for the opposite sex. He had learned well the appeal of an eager woman. He liked to give just as much as he received.
“You’re not wrong,” he said, a grin still on his face. He was starting to chill now that the performance was over and his heart rate had slowed. Fortunately, he would also need his tunic were they to go anywhere. “And I am glad for the recommendation. It can be surprisingly difficult to find someone interesting to spend my time with.”
He found the smile on her red lips intoxicating. She was truly stunning and full of fire, it seemed. Zein appreciated an interesting woman. They made life so much fun. “I’m just looking for company and a conversation,” he answered her question. “I am a traveler, you see, with no friends nearby. I enjoy getting to know the locals.”
Zein would let her decide what he meant, following her gaze to a nearby tavern. It seemed she wasn’t so quick to get rid of him and he the same. “I am Zein,” he introduced himself. “Would you care to share a drink?” He hurt to spend his coin, as always. It was the remnants of living with nothing on the streets. That would always follow him. But sometimes it was worth it to spend a little coin. “There is a nice place nearby.”
"I beg to differ," Nefertaari retorted, no attempt made to hide the lascivous smile that snaked across her lips. For a moment, she let the thought of what she was implying linger unspoken between them. All the while, the noblewoman eyed him. Zein's accented Coptic piqued her interest, coaxing a painted brow upward in amusement.
Little beyond the immediate uses Zein might be good for occurred to the noblewoman. Again, he matched her wit, though this time it was with flattery. Another, deeper peal of laughter passed over Nefertaari's lips. It would take more than that to impress the h'Sheifa daughter, but at least he proved entertaining.
"There is no profit in being wrong," Nefertaari remarked, her tone matter-of-fact. Mischief danced in her dark eyes. "And I'm never wrong." She let that morsel of knowledge sit for a moment before she continued, "Though you're not my usual fare. I prefer something a bit more fulfilling then mere street performers."
Such barbed comments weren't unusual for Nefertaari. There were men that had come before who likened the noblewoman to an asp. Despite the frigid words that left Nef's lips, she looped her arm through Zein's.
"I doubt what you consider nice is the same was what I do. But I will allow you to humor me, if that's what you wish," she said with the glee of a woman with no better way to occupy her time. It was the truth, unfortunately. With the war at hand, Nefertaari was without reason to travel, and that left her awfully bored.
There was much more to her actions and words than that, but Nefertaari wasn't the sort to talk about feelings. It was easier that way, and facades were easier to maintain if one kept the lies minimal. Regardless, her mask was impenetrable. As he guided her toward the tavern she'd been looking at prior, her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. It wasn't an awful choice, considering she'd entertained the idea herself moments earlier.
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"I beg to differ," Nefertaari retorted, no attempt made to hide the lascivous smile that snaked across her lips. For a moment, she let the thought of what she was implying linger unspoken between them. All the while, the noblewoman eyed him. Zein's accented Coptic piqued her interest, coaxing a painted brow upward in amusement.
Little beyond the immediate uses Zein might be good for occurred to the noblewoman. Again, he matched her wit, though this time it was with flattery. Another, deeper peal of laughter passed over Nefertaari's lips. It would take more than that to impress the h'Sheifa daughter, but at least he proved entertaining.
"There is no profit in being wrong," Nefertaari remarked, her tone matter-of-fact. Mischief danced in her dark eyes. "And I'm never wrong." She let that morsel of knowledge sit for a moment before she continued, "Though you're not my usual fare. I prefer something a bit more fulfilling then mere street performers."
Such barbed comments weren't unusual for Nefertaari. There were men that had come before who likened the noblewoman to an asp. Despite the frigid words that left Nef's lips, she looped her arm through Zein's.
"I doubt what you consider nice is the same was what I do. But I will allow you to humor me, if that's what you wish," she said with the glee of a woman with no better way to occupy her time. It was the truth, unfortunately. With the war at hand, Nefertaari was without reason to travel, and that left her awfully bored.
There was much more to her actions and words than that, but Nefertaari wasn't the sort to talk about feelings. It was easier that way, and facades were easier to maintain if one kept the lies minimal. Regardless, her mask was impenetrable. As he guided her toward the tavern she'd been looking at prior, her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. It wasn't an awful choice, considering she'd entertained the idea herself moments earlier.
"I beg to differ," Nefertaari retorted, no attempt made to hide the lascivous smile that snaked across her lips. For a moment, she let the thought of what she was implying linger unspoken between them. All the while, the noblewoman eyed him. Zein's accented Coptic piqued her interest, coaxing a painted brow upward in amusement.
Little beyond the immediate uses Zein might be good for occurred to the noblewoman. Again, he matched her wit, though this time it was with flattery. Another, deeper peal of laughter passed over Nefertaari's lips. It would take more than that to impress the h'Sheifa daughter, but at least he proved entertaining.
"There is no profit in being wrong," Nefertaari remarked, her tone matter-of-fact. Mischief danced in her dark eyes. "And I'm never wrong." She let that morsel of knowledge sit for a moment before she continued, "Though you're not my usual fare. I prefer something a bit more fulfilling then mere street performers."
Such barbed comments weren't unusual for Nefertaari. There were men that had come before who likened the noblewoman to an asp. Despite the frigid words that left Nef's lips, she looped her arm through Zein's.
"I doubt what you consider nice is the same was what I do. But I will allow you to humor me, if that's what you wish," she said with the glee of a woman with no better way to occupy her time. It was the truth, unfortunately. With the war at hand, Nefertaari was without reason to travel, and that left her awfully bored.
There was much more to her actions and words than that, but Nefertaari wasn't the sort to talk about feelings. It was easier that way, and facades were easier to maintain if one kept the lies minimal. Regardless, her mask was impenetrable. As he guided her toward the tavern she'd been looking at prior, her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. It wasn't an awful choice, considering she'd entertained the idea herself moments earlier.
Well at least she was as interested in him as he was in her, Zein thought, responding to her grin with a smile of his own. He appreciated bold women. Women who were not afraid to interact with him and make their minds known. This had never been the case in Judea, he had found. With the possible exception of his cousin, who had shared many of her thoughts with him. Though of course, she had not shared the best thought—the one that pointed to escape. Well, there was nothing much for him to do about that now. That was in the past. This woman was in his present and with a little luck, his near future.
Zein didn’t mind her comments—it took a great deal more than that to upset him. In fact, it was doing rather the opposite in this moment, if he was being honest. He liked that she had a spark to her. It was very attractive. And she was clearly very well off, which was all the better. Not that Zein was looking for a patron or anything like that. No, he had gone down that path before and vowed to never do so again. What excited him about that fact was that she could have any man and she was spending her time talking to him. Zein was not the most vein, but this never failed to stroke his ego.
“Get to know me and maybe you’ll change your mind,” he replied, unconcerned. For all that she was bringing him up, he knew he could be on to the next person in the blink of an eye should she turn him down. As interesting as this could be, it was still only the beginning. They were at a crossroads of whether or not he would be slightly saddened by her moving on.
Her cold comments did nothing to deter him. He might actually even work a bit to capture her attention. It was a fun and interesting challenge for him. Zein often did not have to work to find women. They came to him of their own volition.
“It may not be as fine as you are used to, but it may at least be interesting,” he responded, leading the way towards the tavern. The boy he had hired to take care of his things lagged behind, carrying the case with juggling instruments. Zein wished that he was staying at this tavern—that always made things easier in so many cases. However, his inn was a few blocks away, causing him to think very carefully about what he was going to do with the case. Finally, he gestured to the boy to bring his case in with them rather than return it to his own residence. Too many years on the street made him too wary of others. Even ones that he was paying.
The boy trailed behind them as they entered the tavern, making their way to the table. Zein flipped the child a coin when the case was set beneath their table. Even if it meant he would have to carry it with him later, at least he would not be worried about it’s whereabouts. Gesturing for some drinks to be sent their way, Zein turned back to his companion.
“You still haven’t told me your name,” he said, hoping not to refer to her without a name all night.
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Well at least she was as interested in him as he was in her, Zein thought, responding to her grin with a smile of his own. He appreciated bold women. Women who were not afraid to interact with him and make their minds known. This had never been the case in Judea, he had found. With the possible exception of his cousin, who had shared many of her thoughts with him. Though of course, she had not shared the best thought—the one that pointed to escape. Well, there was nothing much for him to do about that now. That was in the past. This woman was in his present and with a little luck, his near future.
Zein didn’t mind her comments—it took a great deal more than that to upset him. In fact, it was doing rather the opposite in this moment, if he was being honest. He liked that she had a spark to her. It was very attractive. And she was clearly very well off, which was all the better. Not that Zein was looking for a patron or anything like that. No, he had gone down that path before and vowed to never do so again. What excited him about that fact was that she could have any man and she was spending her time talking to him. Zein was not the most vein, but this never failed to stroke his ego.
“Get to know me and maybe you’ll change your mind,” he replied, unconcerned. For all that she was bringing him up, he knew he could be on to the next person in the blink of an eye should she turn him down. As interesting as this could be, it was still only the beginning. They were at a crossroads of whether or not he would be slightly saddened by her moving on.
Her cold comments did nothing to deter him. He might actually even work a bit to capture her attention. It was a fun and interesting challenge for him. Zein often did not have to work to find women. They came to him of their own volition.
“It may not be as fine as you are used to, but it may at least be interesting,” he responded, leading the way towards the tavern. The boy he had hired to take care of his things lagged behind, carrying the case with juggling instruments. Zein wished that he was staying at this tavern—that always made things easier in so many cases. However, his inn was a few blocks away, causing him to think very carefully about what he was going to do with the case. Finally, he gestured to the boy to bring his case in with them rather than return it to his own residence. Too many years on the street made him too wary of others. Even ones that he was paying.
The boy trailed behind them as they entered the tavern, making their way to the table. Zein flipped the child a coin when the case was set beneath their table. Even if it meant he would have to carry it with him later, at least he would not be worried about it’s whereabouts. Gesturing for some drinks to be sent their way, Zein turned back to his companion.
“You still haven’t told me your name,” he said, hoping not to refer to her without a name all night.
Well at least she was as interested in him as he was in her, Zein thought, responding to her grin with a smile of his own. He appreciated bold women. Women who were not afraid to interact with him and make their minds known. This had never been the case in Judea, he had found. With the possible exception of his cousin, who had shared many of her thoughts with him. Though of course, she had not shared the best thought—the one that pointed to escape. Well, there was nothing much for him to do about that now. That was in the past. This woman was in his present and with a little luck, his near future.
Zein didn’t mind her comments—it took a great deal more than that to upset him. In fact, it was doing rather the opposite in this moment, if he was being honest. He liked that she had a spark to her. It was very attractive. And she was clearly very well off, which was all the better. Not that Zein was looking for a patron or anything like that. No, he had gone down that path before and vowed to never do so again. What excited him about that fact was that she could have any man and she was spending her time talking to him. Zein was not the most vein, but this never failed to stroke his ego.
“Get to know me and maybe you’ll change your mind,” he replied, unconcerned. For all that she was bringing him up, he knew he could be on to the next person in the blink of an eye should she turn him down. As interesting as this could be, it was still only the beginning. They were at a crossroads of whether or not he would be slightly saddened by her moving on.
Her cold comments did nothing to deter him. He might actually even work a bit to capture her attention. It was a fun and interesting challenge for him. Zein often did not have to work to find women. They came to him of their own volition.
“It may not be as fine as you are used to, but it may at least be interesting,” he responded, leading the way towards the tavern. The boy he had hired to take care of his things lagged behind, carrying the case with juggling instruments. Zein wished that he was staying at this tavern—that always made things easier in so many cases. However, his inn was a few blocks away, causing him to think very carefully about what he was going to do with the case. Finally, he gestured to the boy to bring his case in with them rather than return it to his own residence. Too many years on the street made him too wary of others. Even ones that he was paying.
The boy trailed behind them as they entered the tavern, making their way to the table. Zein flipped the child a coin when the case was set beneath their table. Even if it meant he would have to carry it with him later, at least he would not be worried about it’s whereabouts. Gesturing for some drinks to be sent their way, Zein turned back to his companion.
“You still haven’t told me your name,” he said, hoping not to refer to her without a name all night.
"I've heard that before," Nefertaari remarked as they walked. She paid attention to the boy, watching with curiosity as she sat down at the table. The server came by, dipping her head toward the noblewoman in greeting. There as a flicker of recognition between the woman and Nefertaari, and she vanished. She didn't need to ask for Nef's order, because she already knew it.
"You don't know who I am?" Nef asked, arching a painted brow upward. She shifted in her chair, sliding one leg over the other beneath the thin gown she wore. The braziers within the tavern made her jewelry glitter.
Nefertaari was known to pick men up from the street now and then, though her intentions were often vague; perhaps she antagonized them, perhaps she was too much to handle, but no man appeared to have an interest in her. Zein's interest seemed to be more than that, and as a woman that works with merchants and trade, she knew when someone wasn't being entirely honest with her.
"What is it you seek?" she asked plainly as the server brought them both glasses of their finest wine.
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"I've heard that before," Nefertaari remarked as they walked. She paid attention to the boy, watching with curiosity as she sat down at the table. The server came by, dipping her head toward the noblewoman in greeting. There as a flicker of recognition between the woman and Nefertaari, and she vanished. She didn't need to ask for Nef's order, because she already knew it.
"You don't know who I am?" Nef asked, arching a painted brow upward. She shifted in her chair, sliding one leg over the other beneath the thin gown she wore. The braziers within the tavern made her jewelry glitter.
Nefertaari was known to pick men up from the street now and then, though her intentions were often vague; perhaps she antagonized them, perhaps she was too much to handle, but no man appeared to have an interest in her. Zein's interest seemed to be more than that, and as a woman that works with merchants and trade, she knew when someone wasn't being entirely honest with her.
"What is it you seek?" she asked plainly as the server brought them both glasses of their finest wine.
"I've heard that before," Nefertaari remarked as they walked. She paid attention to the boy, watching with curiosity as she sat down at the table. The server came by, dipping her head toward the noblewoman in greeting. There as a flicker of recognition between the woman and Nefertaari, and she vanished. She didn't need to ask for Nef's order, because she already knew it.
"You don't know who I am?" Nef asked, arching a painted brow upward. She shifted in her chair, sliding one leg over the other beneath the thin gown she wore. The braziers within the tavern made her jewelry glitter.
Nefertaari was known to pick men up from the street now and then, though her intentions were often vague; perhaps she antagonized them, perhaps she was too much to handle, but no man appeared to have an interest in her. Zein's interest seemed to be more than that, and as a woman that works with merchants and trade, she knew when someone wasn't being entirely honest with her.
"What is it you seek?" she asked plainly as the server brought them both glasses of their finest wine.
Ha, he was sure she had heard similar statements before. It seemed to be something that men were always saying to women. That they were different, special. Zein preferred to let his partner figure that out for herself. It was no fun saying you were special, especially if you weren’t. And if you were, then you had to prove it, not say it. Either this woman would be intrigued enough to spend time with him or she wouldn’t. Zein knew that he could find others if the latter turned out to be the case. Though, she was interesting, so he hoped otherwise.
Her question to him as they sat nearly caused him to roll his eyes. Yes, she was wealthy, that much was obvious to him. Perhaps she was even something more significant in society—someone important. Truth be told, Zein performed for many, even nobles and royalty. He was not awe struck by their presence. Although they came from the furthest echelons of society, he failed to see anything particularly special about it. At the end of the day, people were people. If they chose to act a certain way because of their status, well then Zein didn’t much care. It was rather a turn off, but he would give this woman another chance. Perhaps she was simply used to people recognizing her. Pursuing her because of who she was. Zein didn’t care about any of that. He only wanted to get to know her for her.
“I am not originally from here,” he replied, shrugging as if that would explain why he didn’t know her. He wasn’t about to insult her by saying he didn’t care. At least until he would know if that was an insult or not. His eyes glanced at the jewelry that she seemed to move just so that he would notice. Zein didn’t that she was rich, only that she was interesting.
“I seek interesting company,” he replied, taking a sip of the wine. “I spend all day entertaining others, but at the end of the night, I like to have something to hold my interest. Someone.” Let her make what she would of that. If she was interested, then she would stay. If not, then he would find someone else. It was all part of a long game to him. One he played every evening.
“Why did you come with me?” he countered, seeking to find out more about her motivations. Perhaps he was something different for her. Someone with the potential to be interesting. Zein very much liked that idea.
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Ha, he was sure she had heard similar statements before. It seemed to be something that men were always saying to women. That they were different, special. Zein preferred to let his partner figure that out for herself. It was no fun saying you were special, especially if you weren’t. And if you were, then you had to prove it, not say it. Either this woman would be intrigued enough to spend time with him or she wouldn’t. Zein knew that he could find others if the latter turned out to be the case. Though, she was interesting, so he hoped otherwise.
Her question to him as they sat nearly caused him to roll his eyes. Yes, she was wealthy, that much was obvious to him. Perhaps she was even something more significant in society—someone important. Truth be told, Zein performed for many, even nobles and royalty. He was not awe struck by their presence. Although they came from the furthest echelons of society, he failed to see anything particularly special about it. At the end of the day, people were people. If they chose to act a certain way because of their status, well then Zein didn’t much care. It was rather a turn off, but he would give this woman another chance. Perhaps she was simply used to people recognizing her. Pursuing her because of who she was. Zein didn’t care about any of that. He only wanted to get to know her for her.
“I am not originally from here,” he replied, shrugging as if that would explain why he didn’t know her. He wasn’t about to insult her by saying he didn’t care. At least until he would know if that was an insult or not. His eyes glanced at the jewelry that she seemed to move just so that he would notice. Zein didn’t that she was rich, only that she was interesting.
“I seek interesting company,” he replied, taking a sip of the wine. “I spend all day entertaining others, but at the end of the night, I like to have something to hold my interest. Someone.” Let her make what she would of that. If she was interested, then she would stay. If not, then he would find someone else. It was all part of a long game to him. One he played every evening.
“Why did you come with me?” he countered, seeking to find out more about her motivations. Perhaps he was something different for her. Someone with the potential to be interesting. Zein very much liked that idea.
Ha, he was sure she had heard similar statements before. It seemed to be something that men were always saying to women. That they were different, special. Zein preferred to let his partner figure that out for herself. It was no fun saying you were special, especially if you weren’t. And if you were, then you had to prove it, not say it. Either this woman would be intrigued enough to spend time with him or she wouldn’t. Zein knew that he could find others if the latter turned out to be the case. Though, she was interesting, so he hoped otherwise.
Her question to him as they sat nearly caused him to roll his eyes. Yes, she was wealthy, that much was obvious to him. Perhaps she was even something more significant in society—someone important. Truth be told, Zein performed for many, even nobles and royalty. He was not awe struck by their presence. Although they came from the furthest echelons of society, he failed to see anything particularly special about it. At the end of the day, people were people. If they chose to act a certain way because of their status, well then Zein didn’t much care. It was rather a turn off, but he would give this woman another chance. Perhaps she was simply used to people recognizing her. Pursuing her because of who she was. Zein didn’t care about any of that. He only wanted to get to know her for her.
“I am not originally from here,” he replied, shrugging as if that would explain why he didn’t know her. He wasn’t about to insult her by saying he didn’t care. At least until he would know if that was an insult or not. His eyes glanced at the jewelry that she seemed to move just so that he would notice. Zein didn’t that she was rich, only that she was interesting.
“I seek interesting company,” he replied, taking a sip of the wine. “I spend all day entertaining others, but at the end of the night, I like to have something to hold my interest. Someone.” Let her make what she would of that. If she was interested, then she would stay. If not, then he would find someone else. It was all part of a long game to him. One he played every evening.
“Why did you come with me?” he countered, seeking to find out more about her motivations. Perhaps he was something different for her. Someone with the potential to be interesting. Zein very much liked that idea.
Nefertaari appeared unsurprised by Zein’s admission that he was not from Cairo. Sure, it pained her pride to acknowledge that her attempt at inspiring awe failed, but the woman recouped quickly. Arching a brow upward, Nef regarded the male with a thoughtful stare. The statement piqued her interest though, and the woman’s demeanor appeared to shift entirely.
”For the same reason you approached me,” the woman replied cunningly. ”Entertainment.”
She let her words linger in the air for a moment as her fingers curled around the stem of her cup. Drinking deeply of the wine, she swirled it in her mouth for a moment and swallowed. All the while, Nefertaari studied him carefully. She knew better than to think his intentions entirely pure. Only a fool would be that naïve. Though she had no way of knowing that this was his nightly hunt, she had the wits to suspect as much of any man she encountered.
”Though if a whore’s capable of fulfilling your particular type of entertainment, then it would be best you continue on your way,” Nefertaari remarked, her tone dipping icily. She drank from her cup again, watching Zein from over the lip of the goblet. When she pulled it away, she swept her tongue over painted lips to cleanse them of lingering wine.
Lowering the glass, she watched his face studiously. Reading others was a trait that came easily to Nefertaari, and it was this ability that allowed her to charm other traders. There was little in life that left Nefertaari wanting, aside from her feminine disposition and the limits that came with it. Still, much as a child that has not outgrown their toys, Nefertaari could play. And often, that meant with the emotions of others through careful, masterful architecture. Often, the woman was persuasive and there was rarely a deal she couldn’t make, no matter the pressure. And yet, she did all of it often while retaining her morals.
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Nefertaari appeared unsurprised by Zein’s admission that he was not from Cairo. Sure, it pained her pride to acknowledge that her attempt at inspiring awe failed, but the woman recouped quickly. Arching a brow upward, Nef regarded the male with a thoughtful stare. The statement piqued her interest though, and the woman’s demeanor appeared to shift entirely.
”For the same reason you approached me,” the woman replied cunningly. ”Entertainment.”
She let her words linger in the air for a moment as her fingers curled around the stem of her cup. Drinking deeply of the wine, she swirled it in her mouth for a moment and swallowed. All the while, Nefertaari studied him carefully. She knew better than to think his intentions entirely pure. Only a fool would be that naïve. Though she had no way of knowing that this was his nightly hunt, she had the wits to suspect as much of any man she encountered.
”Though if a whore’s capable of fulfilling your particular type of entertainment, then it would be best you continue on your way,” Nefertaari remarked, her tone dipping icily. She drank from her cup again, watching Zein from over the lip of the goblet. When she pulled it away, she swept her tongue over painted lips to cleanse them of lingering wine.
Lowering the glass, she watched his face studiously. Reading others was a trait that came easily to Nefertaari, and it was this ability that allowed her to charm other traders. There was little in life that left Nefertaari wanting, aside from her feminine disposition and the limits that came with it. Still, much as a child that has not outgrown their toys, Nefertaari could play. And often, that meant with the emotions of others through careful, masterful architecture. Often, the woman was persuasive and there was rarely a deal she couldn’t make, no matter the pressure. And yet, she did all of it often while retaining her morals.
Nefertaari appeared unsurprised by Zein’s admission that he was not from Cairo. Sure, it pained her pride to acknowledge that her attempt at inspiring awe failed, but the woman recouped quickly. Arching a brow upward, Nef regarded the male with a thoughtful stare. The statement piqued her interest though, and the woman’s demeanor appeared to shift entirely.
”For the same reason you approached me,” the woman replied cunningly. ”Entertainment.”
She let her words linger in the air for a moment as her fingers curled around the stem of her cup. Drinking deeply of the wine, she swirled it in her mouth for a moment and swallowed. All the while, Nefertaari studied him carefully. She knew better than to think his intentions entirely pure. Only a fool would be that naïve. Though she had no way of knowing that this was his nightly hunt, she had the wits to suspect as much of any man she encountered.
”Though if a whore’s capable of fulfilling your particular type of entertainment, then it would be best you continue on your way,” Nefertaari remarked, her tone dipping icily. She drank from her cup again, watching Zein from over the lip of the goblet. When she pulled it away, she swept her tongue over painted lips to cleanse them of lingering wine.
Lowering the glass, she watched his face studiously. Reading others was a trait that came easily to Nefertaari, and it was this ability that allowed her to charm other traders. There was little in life that left Nefertaari wanting, aside from her feminine disposition and the limits that came with it. Still, much as a child that has not outgrown their toys, Nefertaari could play. And often, that meant with the emotions of others through careful, masterful architecture. Often, the woman was persuasive and there was rarely a deal she couldn’t make, no matter the pressure. And yet, she did all of it often while retaining her morals.
Well, at least she was being honest, Zein thought with a sly grin. They both understood what they were there for and that made things a lot easier. She wouldn’t be under some grand illusion that he was going to whisk her off her feet or sweep her up in some romance and he could feel assured in the fact that he wouldn’t have to live up to some higher expectations. Zein watched as she slid her slender fingers around her cup, clearly aware of her power over men. He wasn’t going to say that he was immune, not in this case. She was curious to him and Zein liked exploring curiosities.
His brows raised slightly when she outright told him he should move on if he was looking for a whore. Zein did not usually need to procure a woman of the night—women simply came to him. He was alluring. However, he had already known that this woman was too fine to sleep around with random men she did not know. Likely she was some type of nobility who needed to show a higher class than the likes of him. Zein wasn’t offended. That was a fact of life. What made her interesting to him was that she had even bothered to talk to him. Or watch his show. Others might have moved on. So, clearly something was interesting about him to her. Or perhaps that was just his ego speaking.
“There are plenty types of entertainment we both can offer that don’t include such a specialty,” Zein responded, indicating that he wasn’t ready to leave just yet and he did not have such expectations of her. He took another drink from his cup, relaxing a bit more after his performance. It sometimes took him a while to calm down and for his muscles to release after a show. Even if he wanted what she was insinuating, quite frankly he was too tired. Better for a meeting of minds.
“What brings you to the streets to watch my performance?” he asked, curious. “Boredom? Surely there are shows more exclusive to your class…” He knew that there were, but perhaps she had simply stumbled upon his show. Maybe she had other reasons to be on the street. “Are you often a wanderer?”
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Well, at least she was being honest, Zein thought with a sly grin. They both understood what they were there for and that made things a lot easier. She wouldn’t be under some grand illusion that he was going to whisk her off her feet or sweep her up in some romance and he could feel assured in the fact that he wouldn’t have to live up to some higher expectations. Zein watched as she slid her slender fingers around her cup, clearly aware of her power over men. He wasn’t going to say that he was immune, not in this case. She was curious to him and Zein liked exploring curiosities.
His brows raised slightly when she outright told him he should move on if he was looking for a whore. Zein did not usually need to procure a woman of the night—women simply came to him. He was alluring. However, he had already known that this woman was too fine to sleep around with random men she did not know. Likely she was some type of nobility who needed to show a higher class than the likes of him. Zein wasn’t offended. That was a fact of life. What made her interesting to him was that she had even bothered to talk to him. Or watch his show. Others might have moved on. So, clearly something was interesting about him to her. Or perhaps that was just his ego speaking.
“There are plenty types of entertainment we both can offer that don’t include such a specialty,” Zein responded, indicating that he wasn’t ready to leave just yet and he did not have such expectations of her. He took another drink from his cup, relaxing a bit more after his performance. It sometimes took him a while to calm down and for his muscles to release after a show. Even if he wanted what she was insinuating, quite frankly he was too tired. Better for a meeting of minds.
“What brings you to the streets to watch my performance?” he asked, curious. “Boredom? Surely there are shows more exclusive to your class…” He knew that there were, but perhaps she had simply stumbled upon his show. Maybe she had other reasons to be on the street. “Are you often a wanderer?”
Well, at least she was being honest, Zein thought with a sly grin. They both understood what they were there for and that made things a lot easier. She wouldn’t be under some grand illusion that he was going to whisk her off her feet or sweep her up in some romance and he could feel assured in the fact that he wouldn’t have to live up to some higher expectations. Zein watched as she slid her slender fingers around her cup, clearly aware of her power over men. He wasn’t going to say that he was immune, not in this case. She was curious to him and Zein liked exploring curiosities.
His brows raised slightly when she outright told him he should move on if he was looking for a whore. Zein did not usually need to procure a woman of the night—women simply came to him. He was alluring. However, he had already known that this woman was too fine to sleep around with random men she did not know. Likely she was some type of nobility who needed to show a higher class than the likes of him. Zein wasn’t offended. That was a fact of life. What made her interesting to him was that she had even bothered to talk to him. Or watch his show. Others might have moved on. So, clearly something was interesting about him to her. Or perhaps that was just his ego speaking.
“There are plenty types of entertainment we both can offer that don’t include such a specialty,” Zein responded, indicating that he wasn’t ready to leave just yet and he did not have such expectations of her. He took another drink from his cup, relaxing a bit more after his performance. It sometimes took him a while to calm down and for his muscles to release after a show. Even if he wanted what she was insinuating, quite frankly he was too tired. Better for a meeting of minds.
“What brings you to the streets to watch my performance?” he asked, curious. “Boredom? Surely there are shows more exclusive to your class…” He knew that there were, but perhaps she had simply stumbled upon his show. Maybe she had other reasons to be on the street. “Are you often a wanderer?”
“My class lacks the brains necessary to understand raw talent,” Nefertaari replied tartly. It was not often that her curiosities resulted in conversation. Perhaps her presence was, to some, nigh intolerable. She swirled her glass, boredom creeping further into her stature.
“I suppose you could say that, and it wouldn’t be entirely wrong.”
Nefertaari fell silent soon after, unable to carry a conversation much on her own. The desire to smoke overcame her, but she had not a drop of cannabis with her for inhalation. Suddenly, she leaned forward, propping one elbow on the top of their table. Cherry painted lips pressed together for a split second before she offered something akin to a smile to the male.
“You seem more surprised by my actions than most would be, and yet you’ve not asked me for my money yet. Do you truly find me that intriguing, or are you simply trying to waste my time?” Nefertaari asked, amber-hued eyes fixed on Zein. “It would seem you and your fellow street performers are easily distracted by my attention. I would have thought your lot to have more of a life to cling to, than those of us whose wealth brings with it power and privilege.”
As she spoke, she released her glass and reached for Zein’s chin. Her index finger curled, seeking to hook beneath his jaw so that she could inspect his facial features. It was a peculiar action for a woman to take, but it belied her familiarity with slave trading. For every bit of intrigue that encircled Nefertaari, there was just enough badness too. She complacently aided in the destruction of the lives of others.
“What is it you wish to talk about, then?” the young woman asked finally.
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“My class lacks the brains necessary to understand raw talent,” Nefertaari replied tartly. It was not often that her curiosities resulted in conversation. Perhaps her presence was, to some, nigh intolerable. She swirled her glass, boredom creeping further into her stature.
“I suppose you could say that, and it wouldn’t be entirely wrong.”
Nefertaari fell silent soon after, unable to carry a conversation much on her own. The desire to smoke overcame her, but she had not a drop of cannabis with her for inhalation. Suddenly, she leaned forward, propping one elbow on the top of their table. Cherry painted lips pressed together for a split second before she offered something akin to a smile to the male.
“You seem more surprised by my actions than most would be, and yet you’ve not asked me for my money yet. Do you truly find me that intriguing, or are you simply trying to waste my time?” Nefertaari asked, amber-hued eyes fixed on Zein. “It would seem you and your fellow street performers are easily distracted by my attention. I would have thought your lot to have more of a life to cling to, than those of us whose wealth brings with it power and privilege.”
As she spoke, she released her glass and reached for Zein’s chin. Her index finger curled, seeking to hook beneath his jaw so that she could inspect his facial features. It was a peculiar action for a woman to take, but it belied her familiarity with slave trading. For every bit of intrigue that encircled Nefertaari, there was just enough badness too. She complacently aided in the destruction of the lives of others.
“What is it you wish to talk about, then?” the young woman asked finally.
“My class lacks the brains necessary to understand raw talent,” Nefertaari replied tartly. It was not often that her curiosities resulted in conversation. Perhaps her presence was, to some, nigh intolerable. She swirled her glass, boredom creeping further into her stature.
“I suppose you could say that, and it wouldn’t be entirely wrong.”
Nefertaari fell silent soon after, unable to carry a conversation much on her own. The desire to smoke overcame her, but she had not a drop of cannabis with her for inhalation. Suddenly, she leaned forward, propping one elbow on the top of their table. Cherry painted lips pressed together for a split second before she offered something akin to a smile to the male.
“You seem more surprised by my actions than most would be, and yet you’ve not asked me for my money yet. Do you truly find me that intriguing, or are you simply trying to waste my time?” Nefertaari asked, amber-hued eyes fixed on Zein. “It would seem you and your fellow street performers are easily distracted by my attention. I would have thought your lot to have more of a life to cling to, than those of us whose wealth brings with it power and privilege.”
As she spoke, she released her glass and reached for Zein’s chin. Her index finger curled, seeking to hook beneath his jaw so that she could inspect his facial features. It was a peculiar action for a woman to take, but it belied her familiarity with slave trading. For every bit of intrigue that encircled Nefertaari, there was just enough badness too. She complacently aided in the destruction of the lives of others.
“What is it you wish to talk about, then?” the young woman asked finally.
