She was nauseous again. The sickness struck her as often in the evenings as it did in the mornings. Hatshepsut thought it was worse in the evenings. She had eaten less than an hour ago and she didn’t relish throwing up such a delicious meal. Her throat was already raw from retching shortly after she had awakened. Part of that could have been because she would have to attend a Council meeting in the afternoon. She would have to hold her tongue while her idiot husband paraded around and made a fool of himself, pretending he knew what he was doing. The war had been his idea and he was a fine general, though she hated to admit it. But he had not been trained to rule a kingdom the way she had.

It was funny, she thought as she lay on her bed, how she had once been frightened of saying a single word at Council meetings and now she wanted nothing more than to speak out for the sake of her people. Iahotep cared nothing about anyone other than himself and was going to bring Egypt to ruin if he continued on his current course. The able-bodied peasant men would be decimated on the battlefield, leaving their families to starve to death. She wasn’t going to let that happen, even if it killed her. Which it might, as Iahotep was particularly abusive when he perceived anything she said or did as an insult to him.

This train of thought was doing nothing to lessen her nausea. The young Queen considered sending for Skylla. Her herbs almost always calmed her stomach. No, I shall go and see her myself. She was restless after the distressing events of the day and a walk would do her good. Her handmaidens dressed her and wrapped a scarf around her neck to cover the bruises that Iahotep left when he nearly choked her to death.

He had taught her a valuable lesson, though, one that she fully intended to use against him. Trust no one. He felt that he had nothing to fear from his child wife, but he was wrong. Left to rule Egypt in his absence, she would make certain that her subjects supported her and not him. When he returned, it would not be to a sanctuary from battle, but a different, more insidious kind of war. Osorsen would help her. She planned on telling him of her plans the next time they were able to steal some time alone together.

Slipping her feet into golden sandals, she left her opulent chambers and began traversing the golden hallways to Skylla’s quarters, still lost in thought. For her plan to work, would have to rule wisely in the Pharaoh’s absence and make decisions on her own with advice from her mother and Zoser. She might even have to make a few speeches. The entire process terrified her. Though she had been Queen of Egypt since she was six years old, her mother had made most of the decisions while teaching her how to rule. It was time now to stand on her own, no matter how uneasy the notion made her feel.

Her eyes widened as she approached the physician's room. Skylla was standing in front of the door with Neithotep H’Shiefa and they were staring at something. When she was close enough to see what it was, the Queen’s mouth practically fell to the floor. Somebody had drawn an unrealistically large, thick phallus with tiny balls on Skylla’s door. Though she had not seen many cocks in her young life, she knew that they were not curved like that. It looked really painful and completely useless for the purpose for which the gods had created it.

It was so wrong, but it was hilarious, and Hatshepsut alerted the two women to her presence by her light lyrical laughter. All the tension and the stress whooshed out of her in an instant, completely eclipsed by her mirth. Nor was she nauseous any longer. Unable to stop laughing, tears streamed from her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. She might be a Queen, but she was also a sixteen-year-old girl who found such silly and ridiculous things hysterical.

Nia was surprised to hear light footsteps trailing her own, turning to see who approached and finding herself shocked when it was none other than the Queen herself. “Good evening, Your Majesty,” she mumbled in greeting as the young woman joined them. Dropping into a deep curtsy and fidgeting a little nervously, she pulled her shawl a bit tighter around her shoulders and thanked the gods for the dim light that would obscure any markings Iahotep may have left behind. Though Hatshepsut already knew of the affair—if it could really be called that—it was one thing for her to know about it and quite another to see the evidence in person of such a recent tryst.

However, the Queen didn’t seem very concerned with her, Nia looking at her in surprise once more when she burst into laughter. Glancing between her and the obscenely painted door, she felt her own mouth tilt in a lop-sided grin. It was often easy to forget just how young Hatshepsut really was, considering she had already been Queen for most of her life. Of course she would find a crudely painted phallus funny. What sixteen-year-old wouldn’t? Hell, she still found it hilarious at twenty-five, but then again, Nia wasn’t always known for her maturity.

Something relaxed in the air between the three of them at the sound of Hatshepsut’s laughter, Skylla then explaining to them that she didn’t believe she had angered anyone recently, nor did she know who had done this. With enough asking around, they could probably figure it out; there was no shortage of guards to be found in the Evening Star Palace. But was it really worth the effort? The artist’s effort had probably not been intended for their amusement, but it had served that purpose, nonetheless. That was enough for her.

However, Skylla was inviting her and the Queen both into her chambers for further ‘investigation’ and a glass of wine, and for a moment, Nia thought to refuse. Yes, this had been a lovely diversion, but coming from the Pharaoh’s bedchamber only to socialize with his wife felt… wrong, no matter how strange the circumstances surrounding them. She even opened her mouth to decline but, after a moment’s thought, closed it again. She didn’t really like to be alone after nights like these, so why not grab a glass of wine and unwind a little before going home? Perhaps it would soothe her nerves a little.

“That would be lovely, Miss Skylla, thank you,” she said with a smile as the other gestured them inside, taking one last look at the cock on the door and shaking her head with a laugh. “You ought to leave it up as a tribute to the painter,” she said with a snort as she walked in the room and took a seat. “Maybe one day he’ll even claim it.”