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Where the rest of the Hei Sheifa might've preferred the hustle and bustle of the capitol, Onuphrious could be considered old fashioned. The reach of his hei extended well past the limits of Thebes, and indeed, all of Egypt. It ventured to the realm of Greece to the west and east, towards the lands afar, or so they were known to those whose gazes were limited strictly to what was in front of them. The empire that he'd built sought to expand to the reaches of the world, in harmonious trade with peoples of different languages and creeds. And so he reveled in it, bringing the name Sheifa to the mouths of those who pronounced it with accents, whose people would never know a word of Coptic. But, in the end, out of all of the places he'd seen and traded in, it was Thebes that captured his heart.
The beginning.
It was both beginning and end to Onuphrious, for his tomb would be sealed by Thebesian hands, his stories told in the Coptic mannerisms attributed to those people. In this city, where there were halls with his hei's name and businesses that rose and prospered with his seed money, he was at peace. Still the greatest city in Egypt, Thebes was his passion, his peace, and in all of it, his escape from the reprimand and blame, the slander and disdain thrown at his feet by the woman who was not native to it. She could stay in Cairo, in her family's home with his furnishings, but Thebes... it was his sanctuary. He reveled in the mellow silence, settled into a chaise and sipped from his personal store of wine. A long day of methodical planning had drained him, his ability to pay close attention to much of anything at all evaporated.
Onuphrious was enjoying the simple pleasure of a relatively empty house, though his children came and went as they pleased. Old enough now that they should be trusted to carry their lives on their own, there was some worry for the youngest three of his hei. Akhenaten, well, he was the ignored son, imparted upon none of the lessons and given to the care of his middle daughter. He lived the life of an Egyptian noble, without cares for the world and given resources well beyond a boy of his habits and appetites should have access to. But, just as Onuphrious once received a stipend based on the profits received from the family's ventures, so too did Akhenaten. Without a proper heir to receive a grand sum to be used for personal ventures, the other children found themselves with more than they'd had.
Was Onuphrious leading his children to the brink, handing them resources they did not deserve? It was fair, to provide them with the sums they deserved for being his children, but was it right? These idle musings plagued him in his times of solace, worming their fetid impressions into his mind softened by the course of a long day. He thought on it as he looked to the ceiling, as he waited on the fire to burn brighter in a wooden pipe imported from the depths of Asia. The hash stoked in the bowl before he raised it to his lips, keen on letting the poisonous thoughts become clouded by intoxication, reveling in the quiet solitude, lest his children become intimately aware of his own habits.
Kept under control and afforded only to the end of the day, Onuphrious was, in his opinion, beyond reproach in this. He earned his escape, and his children could call him a hypocrite, but it was because of this that he had the wherewithal to carry onward. So, he reveled in it. Bringing the pipe to his lips, he released a breath of hash smoke, watching as the plume collided with the ceiling before dispersing as a mist, only to be renewed by another draw. He washed down the faint taste of ash and the stickiness of coagulated hash resin against his tongue, before setting the pipe aside and allowing himself to breathe smoke-infused air. Letting the air settle in his lungs, at last he felt the pressure, coughing several times before regaining his composure.
"Ahhh...." he let out, leftover wisps of smoke emerging with the released breath.
"At last, a bit of peace," he said aloud, his lips forming into a grin all-too-rare in his present life and usually only on the deck of a boat with a net in his hands.
He could get used to this, if it could serve to smother the guilt and shame that licked at the edges of his mind. Little did he know, his peace was at an end, for the sirdar was not as alone as he presumed.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Where the rest of the Hei Sheifa might've preferred the hustle and bustle of the capitol, Onuphrious could be considered old fashioned. The reach of his hei extended well past the limits of Thebes, and indeed, all of Egypt. It ventured to the realm of Greece to the west and east, towards the lands afar, or so they were known to those whose gazes were limited strictly to what was in front of them. The empire that he'd built sought to expand to the reaches of the world, in harmonious trade with peoples of different languages and creeds. And so he reveled in it, bringing the name Sheifa to the mouths of those who pronounced it with accents, whose people would never know a word of Coptic. But, in the end, out of all of the places he'd seen and traded in, it was Thebes that captured his heart.
The beginning.
It was both beginning and end to Onuphrious, for his tomb would be sealed by Thebesian hands, his stories told in the Coptic mannerisms attributed to those people. In this city, where there were halls with his hei's name and businesses that rose and prospered with his seed money, he was at peace. Still the greatest city in Egypt, Thebes was his passion, his peace, and in all of it, his escape from the reprimand and blame, the slander and disdain thrown at his feet by the woman who was not native to it. She could stay in Cairo, in her family's home with his furnishings, but Thebes... it was his sanctuary. He reveled in the mellow silence, settled into a chaise and sipped from his personal store of wine. A long day of methodical planning had drained him, his ability to pay close attention to much of anything at all evaporated.
Onuphrious was enjoying the simple pleasure of a relatively empty house, though his children came and went as they pleased. Old enough now that they should be trusted to carry their lives on their own, there was some worry for the youngest three of his hei. Akhenaten, well, he was the ignored son, imparted upon none of the lessons and given to the care of his middle daughter. He lived the life of an Egyptian noble, without cares for the world and given resources well beyond a boy of his habits and appetites should have access to. But, just as Onuphrious once received a stipend based on the profits received from the family's ventures, so too did Akhenaten. Without a proper heir to receive a grand sum to be used for personal ventures, the other children found themselves with more than they'd had.
Was Onuphrious leading his children to the brink, handing them resources they did not deserve? It was fair, to provide them with the sums they deserved for being his children, but was it right? These idle musings plagued him in his times of solace, worming their fetid impressions into his mind softened by the course of a long day. He thought on it as he looked to the ceiling, as he waited on the fire to burn brighter in a wooden pipe imported from the depths of Asia. The hash stoked in the bowl before he raised it to his lips, keen on letting the poisonous thoughts become clouded by intoxication, reveling in the quiet solitude, lest his children become intimately aware of his own habits.
Kept under control and afforded only to the end of the day, Onuphrious was, in his opinion, beyond reproach in this. He earned his escape, and his children could call him a hypocrite, but it was because of this that he had the wherewithal to carry onward. So, he reveled in it. Bringing the pipe to his lips, he released a breath of hash smoke, watching as the plume collided with the ceiling before dispersing as a mist, only to be renewed by another draw. He washed down the faint taste of ash and the stickiness of coagulated hash resin against his tongue, before setting the pipe aside and allowing himself to breathe smoke-infused air. Letting the air settle in his lungs, at last he felt the pressure, coughing several times before regaining his composure.
"Ahhh...." he let out, leftover wisps of smoke emerging with the released breath.
"At last, a bit of peace," he said aloud, his lips forming into a grin all-too-rare in his present life and usually only on the deck of a boat with a net in his hands.
He could get used to this, if it could serve to smother the guilt and shame that licked at the edges of his mind. Little did he know, his peace was at an end, for the sirdar was not as alone as he presumed.
Where the rest of the Hei Sheifa might've preferred the hustle and bustle of the capitol, Onuphrious could be considered old fashioned. The reach of his hei extended well past the limits of Thebes, and indeed, all of Egypt. It ventured to the realm of Greece to the west and east, towards the lands afar, or so they were known to those whose gazes were limited strictly to what was in front of them. The empire that he'd built sought to expand to the reaches of the world, in harmonious trade with peoples of different languages and creeds. And so he reveled in it, bringing the name Sheifa to the mouths of those who pronounced it with accents, whose people would never know a word of Coptic. But, in the end, out of all of the places he'd seen and traded in, it was Thebes that captured his heart.
The beginning.
It was both beginning and end to Onuphrious, for his tomb would be sealed by Thebesian hands, his stories told in the Coptic mannerisms attributed to those people. In this city, where there were halls with his hei's name and businesses that rose and prospered with his seed money, he was at peace. Still the greatest city in Egypt, Thebes was his passion, his peace, and in all of it, his escape from the reprimand and blame, the slander and disdain thrown at his feet by the woman who was not native to it. She could stay in Cairo, in her family's home with his furnishings, but Thebes... it was his sanctuary. He reveled in the mellow silence, settled into a chaise and sipped from his personal store of wine. A long day of methodical planning had drained him, his ability to pay close attention to much of anything at all evaporated.
Onuphrious was enjoying the simple pleasure of a relatively empty house, though his children came and went as they pleased. Old enough now that they should be trusted to carry their lives on their own, there was some worry for the youngest three of his hei. Akhenaten, well, he was the ignored son, imparted upon none of the lessons and given to the care of his middle daughter. He lived the life of an Egyptian noble, without cares for the world and given resources well beyond a boy of his habits and appetites should have access to. But, just as Onuphrious once received a stipend based on the profits received from the family's ventures, so too did Akhenaten. Without a proper heir to receive a grand sum to be used for personal ventures, the other children found themselves with more than they'd had.
Was Onuphrious leading his children to the brink, handing them resources they did not deserve? It was fair, to provide them with the sums they deserved for being his children, but was it right? These idle musings plagued him in his times of solace, worming their fetid impressions into his mind softened by the course of a long day. He thought on it as he looked to the ceiling, as he waited on the fire to burn brighter in a wooden pipe imported from the depths of Asia. The hash stoked in the bowl before he raised it to his lips, keen on letting the poisonous thoughts become clouded by intoxication, reveling in the quiet solitude, lest his children become intimately aware of his own habits.
Kept under control and afforded only to the end of the day, Onuphrious was, in his opinion, beyond reproach in this. He earned his escape, and his children could call him a hypocrite, but it was because of this that he had the wherewithal to carry onward. So, he reveled in it. Bringing the pipe to his lips, he released a breath of hash smoke, watching as the plume collided with the ceiling before dispersing as a mist, only to be renewed by another draw. He washed down the faint taste of ash and the stickiness of coagulated hash resin against his tongue, before setting the pipe aside and allowing himself to breathe smoke-infused air. Letting the air settle in his lungs, at last he felt the pressure, coughing several times before regaining his composure.
"Ahhh...." he let out, leftover wisps of smoke emerging with the released breath.
"At last, a bit of peace," he said aloud, his lips forming into a grin all-too-rare in his present life and usually only on the deck of a boat with a net in his hands.
He could get used to this, if it could serve to smother the guilt and shame that licked at the edges of his mind. Little did he know, his peace was at an end, for the sirdar was not as alone as he presumed.
Though her nights now were much calmer than they had been in the past, with the Pharaoh off to war and Neithotep safely tucked away in Thebes for the time being, she sought some of her previous refuge in the escape of smoke and drink. Having set out early in the night, it was nearly early morning by the time the young noblewoman stumbled home to the family’s saraaya, intoxicated and more light-hearted than she had felt in weeks.
Slipping noisily through the door—far too inebriated to try to mask the bang and clang of her movements, she made a shushing gesture at it as she not-so-carefully pushed it closed. “I told you to be quiet!” she reprimanded the piece of wood with a frown before giggling at her own nonsense. Okay, she was a little more fucked up than she thought.
Doing her best to tiptoe across the floor so she could sneak to her room unnoticed, it was then she heard the loud phlegmy sound of coughing coming from the sitting room off to the side of the entrance. Frowning, she wondered who would possibly be up at this time of the night besides her. She knew Nefertaari had a regular smoking habit, but she tended to stay to her rooms when it came to imbibing in it. Her mother preferred to snort it, so she doubted it was her, and besides Iaheru was in Cairo, as far as she knew. She didn’t think Hena was here either, so who could it be…?
Peeking around the corner to see, her mouth fell open in surprise to see Onuphrious sitting there with a silly grin on his face and smoke hazing the air around him. It was her father?! Since when did he…? Had this been going all this time while he ranted and railed at her and Akhenaten for having the same habit?! What a gods-damned hypocrite!
“Wow, the world must look so nice up there on that fancy throne of yours,” she spat sarcastically at the Sirdar, arms crossing defensively over her chest as she stepped into the room. She’d meant to just keep walking and pass out for the night, but seeing this? No, she couldn’t keep quiet and ignore it. He and Iaheru were both hypocrites. How could they criticize her behavior when they did the same thing?
“You yell at me for smoking and drinking and yet, here you sit. High as a damn lark.” Nia shook her head with a curl of her lip. “You and Mother really are something else, you know? She berates me for smoking opium, then shows me how to snort it. You tell me how I waste my life away on drugs, and then I walk in on this.” She gestured at the smoke as if he might try to deny it. She knew the smell well enough there was no chance he could.
She felt almost the parent herself now as she stood there in front of him, drunk and high with her vision swimming and her hands poised on her hips. “Anything to say for yourself?”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Though her nights now were much calmer than they had been in the past, with the Pharaoh off to war and Neithotep safely tucked away in Thebes for the time being, she sought some of her previous refuge in the escape of smoke and drink. Having set out early in the night, it was nearly early morning by the time the young noblewoman stumbled home to the family’s saraaya, intoxicated and more light-hearted than she had felt in weeks.
Slipping noisily through the door—far too inebriated to try to mask the bang and clang of her movements, she made a shushing gesture at it as she not-so-carefully pushed it closed. “I told you to be quiet!” she reprimanded the piece of wood with a frown before giggling at her own nonsense. Okay, she was a little more fucked up than she thought.
Doing her best to tiptoe across the floor so she could sneak to her room unnoticed, it was then she heard the loud phlegmy sound of coughing coming from the sitting room off to the side of the entrance. Frowning, she wondered who would possibly be up at this time of the night besides her. She knew Nefertaari had a regular smoking habit, but she tended to stay to her rooms when it came to imbibing in it. Her mother preferred to snort it, so she doubted it was her, and besides Iaheru was in Cairo, as far as she knew. She didn’t think Hena was here either, so who could it be…?
Peeking around the corner to see, her mouth fell open in surprise to see Onuphrious sitting there with a silly grin on his face and smoke hazing the air around him. It was her father?! Since when did he…? Had this been going all this time while he ranted and railed at her and Akhenaten for having the same habit?! What a gods-damned hypocrite!
“Wow, the world must look so nice up there on that fancy throne of yours,” she spat sarcastically at the Sirdar, arms crossing defensively over her chest as she stepped into the room. She’d meant to just keep walking and pass out for the night, but seeing this? No, she couldn’t keep quiet and ignore it. He and Iaheru were both hypocrites. How could they criticize her behavior when they did the same thing?
“You yell at me for smoking and drinking and yet, here you sit. High as a damn lark.” Nia shook her head with a curl of her lip. “You and Mother really are something else, you know? She berates me for smoking opium, then shows me how to snort it. You tell me how I waste my life away on drugs, and then I walk in on this.” She gestured at the smoke as if he might try to deny it. She knew the smell well enough there was no chance he could.
She felt almost the parent herself now as she stood there in front of him, drunk and high with her vision swimming and her hands poised on her hips. “Anything to say for yourself?”
Though her nights now were much calmer than they had been in the past, with the Pharaoh off to war and Neithotep safely tucked away in Thebes for the time being, she sought some of her previous refuge in the escape of smoke and drink. Having set out early in the night, it was nearly early morning by the time the young noblewoman stumbled home to the family’s saraaya, intoxicated and more light-hearted than she had felt in weeks.
Slipping noisily through the door—far too inebriated to try to mask the bang and clang of her movements, she made a shushing gesture at it as she not-so-carefully pushed it closed. “I told you to be quiet!” she reprimanded the piece of wood with a frown before giggling at her own nonsense. Okay, she was a little more fucked up than she thought.
Doing her best to tiptoe across the floor so she could sneak to her room unnoticed, it was then she heard the loud phlegmy sound of coughing coming from the sitting room off to the side of the entrance. Frowning, she wondered who would possibly be up at this time of the night besides her. She knew Nefertaari had a regular smoking habit, but she tended to stay to her rooms when it came to imbibing in it. Her mother preferred to snort it, so she doubted it was her, and besides Iaheru was in Cairo, as far as she knew. She didn’t think Hena was here either, so who could it be…?
Peeking around the corner to see, her mouth fell open in surprise to see Onuphrious sitting there with a silly grin on his face and smoke hazing the air around him. It was her father?! Since when did he…? Had this been going all this time while he ranted and railed at her and Akhenaten for having the same habit?! What a gods-damned hypocrite!
“Wow, the world must look so nice up there on that fancy throne of yours,” she spat sarcastically at the Sirdar, arms crossing defensively over her chest as she stepped into the room. She’d meant to just keep walking and pass out for the night, but seeing this? No, she couldn’t keep quiet and ignore it. He and Iaheru were both hypocrites. How could they criticize her behavior when they did the same thing?
“You yell at me for smoking and drinking and yet, here you sit. High as a damn lark.” Nia shook her head with a curl of her lip. “You and Mother really are something else, you know? She berates me for smoking opium, then shows me how to snort it. You tell me how I waste my life away on drugs, and then I walk in on this.” She gestured at the smoke as if he might try to deny it. She knew the smell well enough there was no chance he could.
She felt almost the parent herself now as she stood there in front of him, drunk and high with her vision swimming and her hands poised on her hips. “Anything to say for yourself?”
"Wow, the world must look so nice up there on that fancy throne of yours."
While Onuphrious didn't miss the sarcastic glint in his middle daughter's words, the sirdar couldn't deny the fact of it. It was nice, to have the saraaya as his personal escape from the hell that Iaheru was making for him in Cairo. It was lamentable, that all of this proceeded as it did, that the world wanted to grind to a halt and leave him forever in this epoch of suffering. But, Thebes was still his refuge. Even with the spoilt middle daughter with her infinite sass coming out of that big mouth of hers, he wasn't going to stop. He held the pipe in one hand, turning hash to dust in his fingertips before placing it in the bowl.
He would not interrupt her little tirade of presumed hypocrisy. For all of her words, the sirdar could assure himself of his high horse despite Nia's best efforts to dissuade him of it. Instead, he laughed, nodding as she told him of Iaheru's habit as if he weren't intimately aware of the fact. Did she think she could surprise him with this revelation? Did she think her little spat would turn to dust the way that she was wasting her life away?
"There is a difference, Neithotep-" he insisted on using her full name.
"Between coming home to an empty manor and wasting the night away than showing up everywhere you go blazed out of your mind," he informed her. He raised the pipe to his lips, another plume of smoke brushing past them before he placed the pipe on a table in front of him. There, she'd see a dish with more than enough of the stuff for her to take at her leisure, tipping his hand invitingly towards it all before he said,
"You're welcome to join me, if you'd like. Yell at your father a little more. It's more than a familiar feeling these days," he said, brushing the fact aside before leaning back in his chaise. Propping his legs up on the table with little care for the marks he might leave, he found himself growing more and more amused by it all. Did she truly think their situations so similar, or was she just lashing out as a child did when they were hurting inside? All of this turmoil, this distaste that spread through their family like wildfire, did it stoke more out of Nia than he might've thought it would?
Or would his daughter lash out at him for anything he did that wasn't the picture of strength in a time where strength really had no meaning. He hummed quietly, relishing in the way his lips vibrated, the pleasant sensation moving through his cheeks before he decided to continue speaking. She could yell all she wanted, as soon as he was finished -- not quite explaining himself, but nevertheless, he sought to answer her inquiry in full.
"Did you have some illusion that your mother and I were born elsewhere, daughter? That we live in some fantasy where this is poison at the slightest of puffs? No, this," he continued, pointing to the pipe and the dish.
"This is our way of life, a neat little distraction for when the world falls away and Ra is no longer high in the sky. We warm our blood as it just as you like to. But, not all of us are so..."
How to phrase this delicately...
"Dependent on it as you and your brother are. Iaheru and I lead our lives, fulfill our obligations. And in the end, we have our fun, too. Can you say the same?"
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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"Wow, the world must look so nice up there on that fancy throne of yours."
While Onuphrious didn't miss the sarcastic glint in his middle daughter's words, the sirdar couldn't deny the fact of it. It was nice, to have the saraaya as his personal escape from the hell that Iaheru was making for him in Cairo. It was lamentable, that all of this proceeded as it did, that the world wanted to grind to a halt and leave him forever in this epoch of suffering. But, Thebes was still his refuge. Even with the spoilt middle daughter with her infinite sass coming out of that big mouth of hers, he wasn't going to stop. He held the pipe in one hand, turning hash to dust in his fingertips before placing it in the bowl.
He would not interrupt her little tirade of presumed hypocrisy. For all of her words, the sirdar could assure himself of his high horse despite Nia's best efforts to dissuade him of it. Instead, he laughed, nodding as she told him of Iaheru's habit as if he weren't intimately aware of the fact. Did she think she could surprise him with this revelation? Did she think her little spat would turn to dust the way that she was wasting her life away?
"There is a difference, Neithotep-" he insisted on using her full name.
"Between coming home to an empty manor and wasting the night away than showing up everywhere you go blazed out of your mind," he informed her. He raised the pipe to his lips, another plume of smoke brushing past them before he placed the pipe on a table in front of him. There, she'd see a dish with more than enough of the stuff for her to take at her leisure, tipping his hand invitingly towards it all before he said,
"You're welcome to join me, if you'd like. Yell at your father a little more. It's more than a familiar feeling these days," he said, brushing the fact aside before leaning back in his chaise. Propping his legs up on the table with little care for the marks he might leave, he found himself growing more and more amused by it all. Did she truly think their situations so similar, or was she just lashing out as a child did when they were hurting inside? All of this turmoil, this distaste that spread through their family like wildfire, did it stoke more out of Nia than he might've thought it would?
Or would his daughter lash out at him for anything he did that wasn't the picture of strength in a time where strength really had no meaning. He hummed quietly, relishing in the way his lips vibrated, the pleasant sensation moving through his cheeks before he decided to continue speaking. She could yell all she wanted, as soon as he was finished -- not quite explaining himself, but nevertheless, he sought to answer her inquiry in full.
"Did you have some illusion that your mother and I were born elsewhere, daughter? That we live in some fantasy where this is poison at the slightest of puffs? No, this," he continued, pointing to the pipe and the dish.
"This is our way of life, a neat little distraction for when the world falls away and Ra is no longer high in the sky. We warm our blood as it just as you like to. But, not all of us are so..."
How to phrase this delicately...
"Dependent on it as you and your brother are. Iaheru and I lead our lives, fulfill our obligations. And in the end, we have our fun, too. Can you say the same?"
"Wow, the world must look so nice up there on that fancy throne of yours."
While Onuphrious didn't miss the sarcastic glint in his middle daughter's words, the sirdar couldn't deny the fact of it. It was nice, to have the saraaya as his personal escape from the hell that Iaheru was making for him in Cairo. It was lamentable, that all of this proceeded as it did, that the world wanted to grind to a halt and leave him forever in this epoch of suffering. But, Thebes was still his refuge. Even with the spoilt middle daughter with her infinite sass coming out of that big mouth of hers, he wasn't going to stop. He held the pipe in one hand, turning hash to dust in his fingertips before placing it in the bowl.
He would not interrupt her little tirade of presumed hypocrisy. For all of her words, the sirdar could assure himself of his high horse despite Nia's best efforts to dissuade him of it. Instead, he laughed, nodding as she told him of Iaheru's habit as if he weren't intimately aware of the fact. Did she think she could surprise him with this revelation? Did she think her little spat would turn to dust the way that she was wasting her life away?
"There is a difference, Neithotep-" he insisted on using her full name.
"Between coming home to an empty manor and wasting the night away than showing up everywhere you go blazed out of your mind," he informed her. He raised the pipe to his lips, another plume of smoke brushing past them before he placed the pipe on a table in front of him. There, she'd see a dish with more than enough of the stuff for her to take at her leisure, tipping his hand invitingly towards it all before he said,
"You're welcome to join me, if you'd like. Yell at your father a little more. It's more than a familiar feeling these days," he said, brushing the fact aside before leaning back in his chaise. Propping his legs up on the table with little care for the marks he might leave, he found himself growing more and more amused by it all. Did she truly think their situations so similar, or was she just lashing out as a child did when they were hurting inside? All of this turmoil, this distaste that spread through their family like wildfire, did it stoke more out of Nia than he might've thought it would?
Or would his daughter lash out at him for anything he did that wasn't the picture of strength in a time where strength really had no meaning. He hummed quietly, relishing in the way his lips vibrated, the pleasant sensation moving through his cheeks before he decided to continue speaking. She could yell all she wanted, as soon as he was finished -- not quite explaining himself, but nevertheless, he sought to answer her inquiry in full.
"Did you have some illusion that your mother and I were born elsewhere, daughter? That we live in some fantasy where this is poison at the slightest of puffs? No, this," he continued, pointing to the pipe and the dish.
"This is our way of life, a neat little distraction for when the world falls away and Ra is no longer high in the sky. We warm our blood as it just as you like to. But, not all of us are so..."
How to phrase this delicately...
"Dependent on it as you and your brother are. Iaheru and I lead our lives, fulfill our obligations. And in the end, we have our fun, too. Can you say the same?"
Nia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at his offer, and she did not sit, instead crossing her arms over her chest and remaining firmly where she was. This whole thing felt like a trap, and as he continued to speak, it was only confirmed. Really? He wanted her to sit here and get high with him while he berated her for her life choices as they participated in said life choices that he was berating her for? No, thanks. She had better things to do that didn’t involve self-torture and confusing mixed signals.
“You know, it’s a wonder you’re as rich as you are,” she said dryly, her eyebrow lifting with barely veiled contempt. “Because you’re really selling the whole ‘sit down with me’ experience right now. Is this how you hook your clients? Because if so, I think I really need to reevaluate my estimation of the men you cater to.”
Even intoxicated as she was, she still had a sharp tongue, made sharper by a lack of inhibition in the moment. Would she come to regret speaking so bluntly later? Perhaps, but she was long past her fear of her father. A couple months before, after seeing his ire directed toward Iaheru, maybe she would’ve cowered or turned tail and run, but now? After facing the Pharaoh? Onuphrious H’Sheifa was no more frightening than a kitten.
“Why are you sitting here in an empty manor?” she asked after a moment’s quiet, curiosity winning out over distaste. “Is Nefertaari not even here?” She didn’t make a habit of keeping up with her elder sister’s movements, but she knew the woman preferred Onuphrious to Iaheru in most ways. She would expect her to be here in Thebes, rather than the Cairo villa, yet the house was oddly quiet.
The steadily growing rift in their family was no secret, and nothing made it more starkly obvious than the Sirdar of Hei Sheifa sitting alone in his empty saraaya, while his wife and children languished away without him in Cairo. The fact that Nia was the only one here spoke volumes of that rift, and for a moment, she even felt a moment’s pity for her father. It wasn’t his fault things had turned out this way; even had Iaheru been honest all those years ago, Onuphrious could not have stopped the Pharaoh. It was a situation Nia, unfortunately, understood all too well.
“Don’t you get bored up here by yourself?”
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Nia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at his offer, and she did not sit, instead crossing her arms over her chest and remaining firmly where she was. This whole thing felt like a trap, and as he continued to speak, it was only confirmed. Really? He wanted her to sit here and get high with him while he berated her for her life choices as they participated in said life choices that he was berating her for? No, thanks. She had better things to do that didn’t involve self-torture and confusing mixed signals.
“You know, it’s a wonder you’re as rich as you are,” she said dryly, her eyebrow lifting with barely veiled contempt. “Because you’re really selling the whole ‘sit down with me’ experience right now. Is this how you hook your clients? Because if so, I think I really need to reevaluate my estimation of the men you cater to.”
Even intoxicated as she was, she still had a sharp tongue, made sharper by a lack of inhibition in the moment. Would she come to regret speaking so bluntly later? Perhaps, but she was long past her fear of her father. A couple months before, after seeing his ire directed toward Iaheru, maybe she would’ve cowered or turned tail and run, but now? After facing the Pharaoh? Onuphrious H’Sheifa was no more frightening than a kitten.
“Why are you sitting here in an empty manor?” she asked after a moment’s quiet, curiosity winning out over distaste. “Is Nefertaari not even here?” She didn’t make a habit of keeping up with her elder sister’s movements, but she knew the woman preferred Onuphrious to Iaheru in most ways. She would expect her to be here in Thebes, rather than the Cairo villa, yet the house was oddly quiet.
The steadily growing rift in their family was no secret, and nothing made it more starkly obvious than the Sirdar of Hei Sheifa sitting alone in his empty saraaya, while his wife and children languished away without him in Cairo. The fact that Nia was the only one here spoke volumes of that rift, and for a moment, she even felt a moment’s pity for her father. It wasn’t his fault things had turned out this way; even had Iaheru been honest all those years ago, Onuphrious could not have stopped the Pharaoh. It was a situation Nia, unfortunately, understood all too well.
“Don’t you get bored up here by yourself?”
Nia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at his offer, and she did not sit, instead crossing her arms over her chest and remaining firmly where she was. This whole thing felt like a trap, and as he continued to speak, it was only confirmed. Really? He wanted her to sit here and get high with him while he berated her for her life choices as they participated in said life choices that he was berating her for? No, thanks. She had better things to do that didn’t involve self-torture and confusing mixed signals.
“You know, it’s a wonder you’re as rich as you are,” she said dryly, her eyebrow lifting with barely veiled contempt. “Because you’re really selling the whole ‘sit down with me’ experience right now. Is this how you hook your clients? Because if so, I think I really need to reevaluate my estimation of the men you cater to.”
Even intoxicated as she was, she still had a sharp tongue, made sharper by a lack of inhibition in the moment. Would she come to regret speaking so bluntly later? Perhaps, but she was long past her fear of her father. A couple months before, after seeing his ire directed toward Iaheru, maybe she would’ve cowered or turned tail and run, but now? After facing the Pharaoh? Onuphrious H’Sheifa was no more frightening than a kitten.
“Why are you sitting here in an empty manor?” she asked after a moment’s quiet, curiosity winning out over distaste. “Is Nefertaari not even here?” She didn’t make a habit of keeping up with her elder sister’s movements, but she knew the woman preferred Onuphrious to Iaheru in most ways. She would expect her to be here in Thebes, rather than the Cairo villa, yet the house was oddly quiet.
The steadily growing rift in their family was no secret, and nothing made it more starkly obvious than the Sirdar of Hei Sheifa sitting alone in his empty saraaya, while his wife and children languished away without him in Cairo. The fact that Nia was the only one here spoke volumes of that rift, and for a moment, she even felt a moment’s pity for her father. It wasn’t his fault things had turned out this way; even had Iaheru been honest all those years ago, Onuphrious could not have stopped the Pharaoh. It was a situation Nia, unfortunately, understood all too well.
“Don’t you get bored up here by yourself?”
Onuphrious had long gone past the days where he sold things to people. Mercantilism at the level he engaged it in was no longer hawking his wares on the street corner. He sold things to those merchants and let them do all the work of doing it one at a time for a profit. Now? Everything was a number's game, and the numbers he worked with were for regions, not goods. Despite the fact, Onu was pretty confident that he could sell sand to an Egyptian, any day of the week.
There was power in word play, but right now, he was too high to go along with any of that. There was contempt in Neithotep's voice, undisguised and really quite distasteful coming from any woman's lips. Let alone his daughter's. It was, truly, a tragedy that things had fallen so far. But, it was for a reason. A reason that showed even in that little bubble of speech.
"It's a wonder you're as rich as you are."
Everything Onuphrious did wasn't merely for the money in it all, it was for the reach it gave, that satisfaction in claiming new territory.
"You know, Neithotep. There's something I like to do, every time your dad gets a new region on his sales map. I get this little stick with that country's colours on it, jab it right into a map I have pinned to a table... here, actually. I'm sure you don't care to see it. Regardless, every little flag in that map makes daddy rich enough to let his kids buy all the drugs they want."
It was like an obsession, to fill every dot on the map with its own little sticks. He hoped to finish it before he died and left the map to Akhenaten. The thought of doing that left no shortage of bile in his throat, but he let it pass, content enough to listen to Neithotep move right along and ask her further questions.
"Well, there was nobody else here. So sitting on my own is more of an inevitability than my intention. It did help, however, justifying getting the pipe out. I haven't the faintest where Nefertaari is, I'm afraid. Maybe she'll find a husband while she's out," he mused idly, a chuckle on his lips before he moved on.
"Oh, I do. I try not to linger at home too much. It's not like I have friends or business associates to keep me company. I spend it all alone and in a state of perpetual hypocrisy." The tone was obviously sarcastic, as to not be confused with overt lying.
"You caught me at a strange time. A night alone with the opium pipe is nice, every once in a while. It's dark, sailing conditions aren't favourable. Am I not allowed, to do things in my own house?"
The anger bit at his tone at the last bit, being pushed and pushed by his daughter, called a hypocrite, roused into a sarcastic and bitter temperament by Iaheru and his children both. Onuphrious just wanted a reprieve, a bit of solace.
But, it refused to come.
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Onuphrious had long gone past the days where he sold things to people. Mercantilism at the level he engaged it in was no longer hawking his wares on the street corner. He sold things to those merchants and let them do all the work of doing it one at a time for a profit. Now? Everything was a number's game, and the numbers he worked with were for regions, not goods. Despite the fact, Onu was pretty confident that he could sell sand to an Egyptian, any day of the week.
There was power in word play, but right now, he was too high to go along with any of that. There was contempt in Neithotep's voice, undisguised and really quite distasteful coming from any woman's lips. Let alone his daughter's. It was, truly, a tragedy that things had fallen so far. But, it was for a reason. A reason that showed even in that little bubble of speech.
"It's a wonder you're as rich as you are."
Everything Onuphrious did wasn't merely for the money in it all, it was for the reach it gave, that satisfaction in claiming new territory.
"You know, Neithotep. There's something I like to do, every time your dad gets a new region on his sales map. I get this little stick with that country's colours on it, jab it right into a map I have pinned to a table... here, actually. I'm sure you don't care to see it. Regardless, every little flag in that map makes daddy rich enough to let his kids buy all the drugs they want."
It was like an obsession, to fill every dot on the map with its own little sticks. He hoped to finish it before he died and left the map to Akhenaten. The thought of doing that left no shortage of bile in his throat, but he let it pass, content enough to listen to Neithotep move right along and ask her further questions.
"Well, there was nobody else here. So sitting on my own is more of an inevitability than my intention. It did help, however, justifying getting the pipe out. I haven't the faintest where Nefertaari is, I'm afraid. Maybe she'll find a husband while she's out," he mused idly, a chuckle on his lips before he moved on.
"Oh, I do. I try not to linger at home too much. It's not like I have friends or business associates to keep me company. I spend it all alone and in a state of perpetual hypocrisy." The tone was obviously sarcastic, as to not be confused with overt lying.
"You caught me at a strange time. A night alone with the opium pipe is nice, every once in a while. It's dark, sailing conditions aren't favourable. Am I not allowed, to do things in my own house?"
The anger bit at his tone at the last bit, being pushed and pushed by his daughter, called a hypocrite, roused into a sarcastic and bitter temperament by Iaheru and his children both. Onuphrious just wanted a reprieve, a bit of solace.
But, it refused to come.
Onuphrious had long gone past the days where he sold things to people. Mercantilism at the level he engaged it in was no longer hawking his wares on the street corner. He sold things to those merchants and let them do all the work of doing it one at a time for a profit. Now? Everything was a number's game, and the numbers he worked with were for regions, not goods. Despite the fact, Onu was pretty confident that he could sell sand to an Egyptian, any day of the week.
There was power in word play, but right now, he was too high to go along with any of that. There was contempt in Neithotep's voice, undisguised and really quite distasteful coming from any woman's lips. Let alone his daughter's. It was, truly, a tragedy that things had fallen so far. But, it was for a reason. A reason that showed even in that little bubble of speech.
"It's a wonder you're as rich as you are."
Everything Onuphrious did wasn't merely for the money in it all, it was for the reach it gave, that satisfaction in claiming new territory.
"You know, Neithotep. There's something I like to do, every time your dad gets a new region on his sales map. I get this little stick with that country's colours on it, jab it right into a map I have pinned to a table... here, actually. I'm sure you don't care to see it. Regardless, every little flag in that map makes daddy rich enough to let his kids buy all the drugs they want."
It was like an obsession, to fill every dot on the map with its own little sticks. He hoped to finish it before he died and left the map to Akhenaten. The thought of doing that left no shortage of bile in his throat, but he let it pass, content enough to listen to Neithotep move right along and ask her further questions.
"Well, there was nobody else here. So sitting on my own is more of an inevitability than my intention. It did help, however, justifying getting the pipe out. I haven't the faintest where Nefertaari is, I'm afraid. Maybe she'll find a husband while she's out," he mused idly, a chuckle on his lips before he moved on.
"Oh, I do. I try not to linger at home too much. It's not like I have friends or business associates to keep me company. I spend it all alone and in a state of perpetual hypocrisy." The tone was obviously sarcastic, as to not be confused with overt lying.
"You caught me at a strange time. A night alone with the opium pipe is nice, every once in a while. It's dark, sailing conditions aren't favourable. Am I not allowed, to do things in my own house?"
The anger bit at his tone at the last bit, being pushed and pushed by his daughter, called a hypocrite, roused into a sarcastic and bitter temperament by Iaheru and his children both. Onuphrious just wanted a reprieve, a bit of solace.
But, it refused to come.
Onuphrious never seemed to let Nia forget it was his money that she used whenever she bought opium or alcohol or really anything else, his house that she lived in, his influence she could wield. He waved it at her as if it was some accomplishment, and maybe to him, it was. But to Nia, what other choice did she have? She was a noble and a woman. It wasn’t as if she had a lot of options for procuring her own wealth, and the options she could employ? Well, she had a feeling her family would have more objections to that than her sitting around and doing nothing with her life.
But the unfairness of Egyptian wealth distribution was not a topic she wanted to get into tonight, particularly against an economist like Onuphrious. He could justify it for whatever reason, and she would not have the knowledge to argue against it. At that point, she may as well stand and argue with a wall, for all the good it would do. At least she could punch a wall.
Her father parroted the sarcastic tone in which she addressed him, and really, it ought not to have surprised her. She had to get it from somewhere, didn’t she, and neither of her parents had a tendency to speak gently with their children. Really, neither of the pair ought to be surprised that the affection they received in return was so sparse, but that was also a discussion for another night. When no one was intoxicated.
Then again, was there ever a night where they were all sober?
“I was just asking,” she snapped back with a roll of her eyes once he was finished talking, though perhaps she ought not to have let herself be rankled by his tone. If she didn’t react, if she didn’t allow him to get a rise out of her, then perhaps the rest of the night could continue on with the peace he apparently wanted. But also, maybe he shouldn’t have fed into it. It was expected of children to goad their parents; he ought not to sink to her level.
For a long moment, she was quiet as she looked over at her father, and though he bit back at her just as she bit at him, there was still something… sad there. Unvoiced emotion, perhaps, from the separation of his family, that Nia should be the one here standing with him, even if it was purely by accident. Sighing in defeat at the pity that seized her heart, she took the kline opposite of him and grabbed up the pipe he had previously offered.
Even if there were times where she outright hated him, he was still her father. And even if she wouldn’t say it out loud, it bothered her to see him so isolated.
“Have you gone fishing lately?” she asked as she inhaled a puff of the smoke, slowly releasing it through her nostrils and pretending as if their terse exchange had not just happened. Gods knew she had precious little knowledge of her father’s leisure activities, but she did know that he spent a lot of his time trawling along the Nile.
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Onuphrious never seemed to let Nia forget it was his money that she used whenever she bought opium or alcohol or really anything else, his house that she lived in, his influence she could wield. He waved it at her as if it was some accomplishment, and maybe to him, it was. But to Nia, what other choice did she have? She was a noble and a woman. It wasn’t as if she had a lot of options for procuring her own wealth, and the options she could employ? Well, she had a feeling her family would have more objections to that than her sitting around and doing nothing with her life.
But the unfairness of Egyptian wealth distribution was not a topic she wanted to get into tonight, particularly against an economist like Onuphrious. He could justify it for whatever reason, and she would not have the knowledge to argue against it. At that point, she may as well stand and argue with a wall, for all the good it would do. At least she could punch a wall.
Her father parroted the sarcastic tone in which she addressed him, and really, it ought not to have surprised her. She had to get it from somewhere, didn’t she, and neither of her parents had a tendency to speak gently with their children. Really, neither of the pair ought to be surprised that the affection they received in return was so sparse, but that was also a discussion for another night. When no one was intoxicated.
Then again, was there ever a night where they were all sober?
“I was just asking,” she snapped back with a roll of her eyes once he was finished talking, though perhaps she ought not to have let herself be rankled by his tone. If she didn’t react, if she didn’t allow him to get a rise out of her, then perhaps the rest of the night could continue on with the peace he apparently wanted. But also, maybe he shouldn’t have fed into it. It was expected of children to goad their parents; he ought not to sink to her level.
For a long moment, she was quiet as she looked over at her father, and though he bit back at her just as she bit at him, there was still something… sad there. Unvoiced emotion, perhaps, from the separation of his family, that Nia should be the one here standing with him, even if it was purely by accident. Sighing in defeat at the pity that seized her heart, she took the kline opposite of him and grabbed up the pipe he had previously offered.
Even if there were times where she outright hated him, he was still her father. And even if she wouldn’t say it out loud, it bothered her to see him so isolated.
“Have you gone fishing lately?” she asked as she inhaled a puff of the smoke, slowly releasing it through her nostrils and pretending as if their terse exchange had not just happened. Gods knew she had precious little knowledge of her father’s leisure activities, but she did know that he spent a lot of his time trawling along the Nile.
Onuphrious never seemed to let Nia forget it was his money that she used whenever she bought opium or alcohol or really anything else, his house that she lived in, his influence she could wield. He waved it at her as if it was some accomplishment, and maybe to him, it was. But to Nia, what other choice did she have? She was a noble and a woman. It wasn’t as if she had a lot of options for procuring her own wealth, and the options she could employ? Well, she had a feeling her family would have more objections to that than her sitting around and doing nothing with her life.
But the unfairness of Egyptian wealth distribution was not a topic she wanted to get into tonight, particularly against an economist like Onuphrious. He could justify it for whatever reason, and she would not have the knowledge to argue against it. At that point, she may as well stand and argue with a wall, for all the good it would do. At least she could punch a wall.
Her father parroted the sarcastic tone in which she addressed him, and really, it ought not to have surprised her. She had to get it from somewhere, didn’t she, and neither of her parents had a tendency to speak gently with their children. Really, neither of the pair ought to be surprised that the affection they received in return was so sparse, but that was also a discussion for another night. When no one was intoxicated.
Then again, was there ever a night where they were all sober?
“I was just asking,” she snapped back with a roll of her eyes once he was finished talking, though perhaps she ought not to have let herself be rankled by his tone. If she didn’t react, if she didn’t allow him to get a rise out of her, then perhaps the rest of the night could continue on with the peace he apparently wanted. But also, maybe he shouldn’t have fed into it. It was expected of children to goad their parents; he ought not to sink to her level.
For a long moment, she was quiet as she looked over at her father, and though he bit back at her just as she bit at him, there was still something… sad there. Unvoiced emotion, perhaps, from the separation of his family, that Nia should be the one here standing with him, even if it was purely by accident. Sighing in defeat at the pity that seized her heart, she took the kline opposite of him and grabbed up the pipe he had previously offered.
Even if there were times where she outright hated him, he was still her father. And even if she wouldn’t say it out loud, it bothered her to see him so isolated.
“Have you gone fishing lately?” she asked as she inhaled a puff of the smoke, slowly releasing it through her nostrils and pretending as if their terse exchange had not just happened. Gods knew she had precious little knowledge of her father’s leisure activities, but she did know that he spent a lot of his time trawling along the Nile.
Onuphrious was reluctant to admit the similarities between himself and his children. As far as he could tell, they were all entitled brats with no intention of repaying any of the sacrifices their parents made for them. But, in the same token, he cared for them. He wasn't the ideal parent, far from it, but he did dutifully provide for the entirety of his family, doing nothing to withhold the stipends each of them received, regardless of how business was going at the time. Never would the sirdar of H'Sheifa let his children know that the family business was anything but pristine. The stresses of an ongoing war, with severely strained relationships with Greece and the tenuous hold on Judea he retained for the moment...
Everything was awful and yet, Onuphrious held it in, never divulging his own struggles nor his opinions on the matters. Carefully, he remained aloof and separated from politics, doing his utmost to use his powerful business ties in Egypt to keep the ship that was his hei on the course of prosperity. What he did divulge, however, was his embitterment at the state of family affairs, with the exiling of Sutekh and the fallout with Iaheru. The sadness in his visage was immensely difficult to suppress, and, if he was being honest, he no longer cared to. In the privacy of his family home, he could allow that shroud to lower.
But first, there was the sarcastic bite to match. Onuphrious uttered his snide remarks, and it was left to Neithotep to reflect it right back at him, his lips curved for a moment before he noticed the shift in her expression. She seemed to recognize the emotion welling beneath the surface, how his eyes fell downcast towards the floor, how his shoulders seemed to sag. Onuphrious wasn't sure exactly of what she saw, but... she sighed and sat down across from him, taking him up on his offer to indulge in this opium with him. And, in truth, that delighted the sirdar. How he craved, in the pit within his chest, for an opportunity to connect with his children. He wondered what it might be like if this was AKhenaten in Neithotep's place, smoking with him and asking him a genuine question. But, Nia was more than enough.
A smile cast upon the sirdar's lips as he nodded,
"Just this morning. I returned home for a business engagement. A 'friend'," he began, raising both hands to wiggle the index and middle fingers of each hands in mock quotes, "Called me with a need for imported textiles. Anyway, not to bore you with the details, but I swear to Ra, Nia, that this man has never held on to a fishing rod. And he still never has!" he began to laugh, making a motion of dropping something as he went on,
"I guess the fish was stronger. The sorry sod left my ship with his hands all raw from trying to hold on before it got away from him."
A simple story, one that brought a grin to the sirdar's lips. Allowing Nia to imbibe as she wished from the one pipe, the sirdar took two tablets of poppy sap, placing the opium into a mortar before crushing the solid form into a dust that could be poured into the bowl of the pipe.
"You've been a ghost lately, Nia. And... I can reconcile that this is my fault. But, does it need to last forever?"
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Onuphrious was reluctant to admit the similarities between himself and his children. As far as he could tell, they were all entitled brats with no intention of repaying any of the sacrifices their parents made for them. But, in the same token, he cared for them. He wasn't the ideal parent, far from it, but he did dutifully provide for the entirety of his family, doing nothing to withhold the stipends each of them received, regardless of how business was going at the time. Never would the sirdar of H'Sheifa let his children know that the family business was anything but pristine. The stresses of an ongoing war, with severely strained relationships with Greece and the tenuous hold on Judea he retained for the moment...
Everything was awful and yet, Onuphrious held it in, never divulging his own struggles nor his opinions on the matters. Carefully, he remained aloof and separated from politics, doing his utmost to use his powerful business ties in Egypt to keep the ship that was his hei on the course of prosperity. What he did divulge, however, was his embitterment at the state of family affairs, with the exiling of Sutekh and the fallout with Iaheru. The sadness in his visage was immensely difficult to suppress, and, if he was being honest, he no longer cared to. In the privacy of his family home, he could allow that shroud to lower.
But first, there was the sarcastic bite to match. Onuphrious uttered his snide remarks, and it was left to Neithotep to reflect it right back at him, his lips curved for a moment before he noticed the shift in her expression. She seemed to recognize the emotion welling beneath the surface, how his eyes fell downcast towards the floor, how his shoulders seemed to sag. Onuphrious wasn't sure exactly of what she saw, but... she sighed and sat down across from him, taking him up on his offer to indulge in this opium with him. And, in truth, that delighted the sirdar. How he craved, in the pit within his chest, for an opportunity to connect with his children. He wondered what it might be like if this was AKhenaten in Neithotep's place, smoking with him and asking him a genuine question. But, Nia was more than enough.
A smile cast upon the sirdar's lips as he nodded,
"Just this morning. I returned home for a business engagement. A 'friend'," he began, raising both hands to wiggle the index and middle fingers of each hands in mock quotes, "Called me with a need for imported textiles. Anyway, not to bore you with the details, but I swear to Ra, Nia, that this man has never held on to a fishing rod. And he still never has!" he began to laugh, making a motion of dropping something as he went on,
"I guess the fish was stronger. The sorry sod left my ship with his hands all raw from trying to hold on before it got away from him."
A simple story, one that brought a grin to the sirdar's lips. Allowing Nia to imbibe as she wished from the one pipe, the sirdar took two tablets of poppy sap, placing the opium into a mortar before crushing the solid form into a dust that could be poured into the bowl of the pipe.
"You've been a ghost lately, Nia. And... I can reconcile that this is my fault. But, does it need to last forever?"
Onuphrious was reluctant to admit the similarities between himself and his children. As far as he could tell, they were all entitled brats with no intention of repaying any of the sacrifices their parents made for them. But, in the same token, he cared for them. He wasn't the ideal parent, far from it, but he did dutifully provide for the entirety of his family, doing nothing to withhold the stipends each of them received, regardless of how business was going at the time. Never would the sirdar of H'Sheifa let his children know that the family business was anything but pristine. The stresses of an ongoing war, with severely strained relationships with Greece and the tenuous hold on Judea he retained for the moment...
Everything was awful and yet, Onuphrious held it in, never divulging his own struggles nor his opinions on the matters. Carefully, he remained aloof and separated from politics, doing his utmost to use his powerful business ties in Egypt to keep the ship that was his hei on the course of prosperity. What he did divulge, however, was his embitterment at the state of family affairs, with the exiling of Sutekh and the fallout with Iaheru. The sadness in his visage was immensely difficult to suppress, and, if he was being honest, he no longer cared to. In the privacy of his family home, he could allow that shroud to lower.
But first, there was the sarcastic bite to match. Onuphrious uttered his snide remarks, and it was left to Neithotep to reflect it right back at him, his lips curved for a moment before he noticed the shift in her expression. She seemed to recognize the emotion welling beneath the surface, how his eyes fell downcast towards the floor, how his shoulders seemed to sag. Onuphrious wasn't sure exactly of what she saw, but... she sighed and sat down across from him, taking him up on his offer to indulge in this opium with him. And, in truth, that delighted the sirdar. How he craved, in the pit within his chest, for an opportunity to connect with his children. He wondered what it might be like if this was AKhenaten in Neithotep's place, smoking with him and asking him a genuine question. But, Nia was more than enough.
A smile cast upon the sirdar's lips as he nodded,
"Just this morning. I returned home for a business engagement. A 'friend'," he began, raising both hands to wiggle the index and middle fingers of each hands in mock quotes, "Called me with a need for imported textiles. Anyway, not to bore you with the details, but I swear to Ra, Nia, that this man has never held on to a fishing rod. And he still never has!" he began to laugh, making a motion of dropping something as he went on,
"I guess the fish was stronger. The sorry sod left my ship with his hands all raw from trying to hold on before it got away from him."
A simple story, one that brought a grin to the sirdar's lips. Allowing Nia to imbibe as she wished from the one pipe, the sirdar took two tablets of poppy sap, placing the opium into a mortar before crushing the solid form into a dust that could be poured into the bowl of the pipe.
"You've been a ghost lately, Nia. And... I can reconcile that this is my fault. But, does it need to last forever?"
Nia listened with faint amusement as her father relayed his fishing tale, absently inhaling another puff of smoke from the pipe. For as long as she could remember, Onuphrious had been dragging his wife and family onto fishing expeditions only he and Sutekh really seemed to enjoy, and who even knew if that was true? Sutekh had always been such a little kiss ass; gods only knew if he actually liked the things Father had him do. But that didn’t matter any more, Nia remembered with a brief jolt. He was a Sheifa no longer. And he never really had been one in the first place.
While she hadn’t cried too many tears over her brother’s loss, she knew how it had torn apart the family. Of course she loved him, and there was a part of her that missed him, but what really concerned her more now was the tension within the household. The abrupt shattering of an illusion of a happy marriage, Hena forced into a role for which he had been sorely prepared, Nia losing the only sibling she actually cared for to duty…
She hated it. She hated all of it. While Nia could never say she had been happy with the state of her family, she would give anything to go back to the way everything had been months ago. Before all of this was revealed. Before she ever knew the touch of Iahotep.
The middle Sheifa daughter couldn’t hide the look on her face when Onuphrious changed the subject away from his aquatic adventures to the even more pronounced lack of her presence in recent weeks. ‘You’ve been a ghost lately, Nia.’ She nearly laughed. Nia felt half a ghost, sneaking in and out of her life like it didn’t even belong to her any more.
And… it didn’t. Not in the way it had. But this wasn’t something she could explain to her father.
For a moment, she was quiet as she studied his face. Not for the first time, she wondered if her father had been among the council members to confirm Iahotep, and if he had, what he would think of the Pharaoh’s behavior. The way he took control of his daughter as the previous King of Kings had done to his wife. It was like a player’s tale repeating itself with new actors, and gods what Nia wouldn’t give to have her role replaced…
“I’m an adult now,” she pointed out instead, turning away from him to busy her hands with refilling the pipe. What could she really say? It wasn’t as if she could tell him all the reasons she was scarce. Frankly, she was surprised he had even noticed. It wasn’t as if Nia made a habit of spending much time at home.
“Ought to get used to not seeing much of me. I’ll be married off one of these days, I’m sure,” she muttered, half bitter. She had managed to avoid the betrothal to Narmer, but would her luck continue on that same streak? Somehow, she doubted it. Eventually, her parents would but their collective foot down, and she would be left with little choice. At least she could be grateful that Iahotep had never demanded her hand in addition to his nubile young bride.
“The only one who enjoys my company is Hena, anyway,” she continued in that same bitter murmur, even as she told herself to stop speaking. Hadn’t she just resolved she was going to be nice to the sirdar? “Why shouldn’t I be a ghost?”
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Nia listened with faint amusement as her father relayed his fishing tale, absently inhaling another puff of smoke from the pipe. For as long as she could remember, Onuphrious had been dragging his wife and family onto fishing expeditions only he and Sutekh really seemed to enjoy, and who even knew if that was true? Sutekh had always been such a little kiss ass; gods only knew if he actually liked the things Father had him do. But that didn’t matter any more, Nia remembered with a brief jolt. He was a Sheifa no longer. And he never really had been one in the first place.
While she hadn’t cried too many tears over her brother’s loss, she knew how it had torn apart the family. Of course she loved him, and there was a part of her that missed him, but what really concerned her more now was the tension within the household. The abrupt shattering of an illusion of a happy marriage, Hena forced into a role for which he had been sorely prepared, Nia losing the only sibling she actually cared for to duty…
She hated it. She hated all of it. While Nia could never say she had been happy with the state of her family, she would give anything to go back to the way everything had been months ago. Before all of this was revealed. Before she ever knew the touch of Iahotep.
The middle Sheifa daughter couldn’t hide the look on her face when Onuphrious changed the subject away from his aquatic adventures to the even more pronounced lack of her presence in recent weeks. ‘You’ve been a ghost lately, Nia.’ She nearly laughed. Nia felt half a ghost, sneaking in and out of her life like it didn’t even belong to her any more.
And… it didn’t. Not in the way it had. But this wasn’t something she could explain to her father.
For a moment, she was quiet as she studied his face. Not for the first time, she wondered if her father had been among the council members to confirm Iahotep, and if he had, what he would think of the Pharaoh’s behavior. The way he took control of his daughter as the previous King of Kings had done to his wife. It was like a player’s tale repeating itself with new actors, and gods what Nia wouldn’t give to have her role replaced…
“I’m an adult now,” she pointed out instead, turning away from him to busy her hands with refilling the pipe. What could she really say? It wasn’t as if she could tell him all the reasons she was scarce. Frankly, she was surprised he had even noticed. It wasn’t as if Nia made a habit of spending much time at home.
“Ought to get used to not seeing much of me. I’ll be married off one of these days, I’m sure,” she muttered, half bitter. She had managed to avoid the betrothal to Narmer, but would her luck continue on that same streak? Somehow, she doubted it. Eventually, her parents would but their collective foot down, and she would be left with little choice. At least she could be grateful that Iahotep had never demanded her hand in addition to his nubile young bride.
“The only one who enjoys my company is Hena, anyway,” she continued in that same bitter murmur, even as she told herself to stop speaking. Hadn’t she just resolved she was going to be nice to the sirdar? “Why shouldn’t I be a ghost?”
Nia listened with faint amusement as her father relayed his fishing tale, absently inhaling another puff of smoke from the pipe. For as long as she could remember, Onuphrious had been dragging his wife and family onto fishing expeditions only he and Sutekh really seemed to enjoy, and who even knew if that was true? Sutekh had always been such a little kiss ass; gods only knew if he actually liked the things Father had him do. But that didn’t matter any more, Nia remembered with a brief jolt. He was a Sheifa no longer. And he never really had been one in the first place.
While she hadn’t cried too many tears over her brother’s loss, she knew how it had torn apart the family. Of course she loved him, and there was a part of her that missed him, but what really concerned her more now was the tension within the household. The abrupt shattering of an illusion of a happy marriage, Hena forced into a role for which he had been sorely prepared, Nia losing the only sibling she actually cared for to duty…
She hated it. She hated all of it. While Nia could never say she had been happy with the state of her family, she would give anything to go back to the way everything had been months ago. Before all of this was revealed. Before she ever knew the touch of Iahotep.
The middle Sheifa daughter couldn’t hide the look on her face when Onuphrious changed the subject away from his aquatic adventures to the even more pronounced lack of her presence in recent weeks. ‘You’ve been a ghost lately, Nia.’ She nearly laughed. Nia felt half a ghost, sneaking in and out of her life like it didn’t even belong to her any more.
And… it didn’t. Not in the way it had. But this wasn’t something she could explain to her father.
For a moment, she was quiet as she studied his face. Not for the first time, she wondered if her father had been among the council members to confirm Iahotep, and if he had, what he would think of the Pharaoh’s behavior. The way he took control of his daughter as the previous King of Kings had done to his wife. It was like a player’s tale repeating itself with new actors, and gods what Nia wouldn’t give to have her role replaced…
“I’m an adult now,” she pointed out instead, turning away from him to busy her hands with refilling the pipe. What could she really say? It wasn’t as if she could tell him all the reasons she was scarce. Frankly, she was surprised he had even noticed. It wasn’t as if Nia made a habit of spending much time at home.
“Ought to get used to not seeing much of me. I’ll be married off one of these days, I’m sure,” she muttered, half bitter. She had managed to avoid the betrothal to Narmer, but would her luck continue on that same streak? Somehow, she doubted it. Eventually, her parents would but their collective foot down, and she would be left with little choice. At least she could be grateful that Iahotep had never demanded her hand in addition to his nubile young bride.
“The only one who enjoys my company is Hena, anyway,” she continued in that same bitter murmur, even as she told herself to stop speaking. Hadn’t she just resolved she was going to be nice to the sirdar? “Why shouldn’t I be a ghost?”
For all of the powers of observation that Onuphrious possessed, he couldn't piece together exactly what had transpired to make Neithotep seem a hollow shell. She walked the grounds of their family estates as a phantom and yet... Onuphrious only noticed it now when it was far too late. The reasons escaped him, and he wondered if it was even his place to venture so deeply into the girl's life, now. Once, he'd been a relatively loving father, taking children and wife alike on trips in an effort to create memories with them.
And yet... for all of those efforts the winds of time carried away those memories, leaving behind only specters and conflicts. Onuphrious spent his time with his eldest children, and even now, they were sorely missing the father figure they needed. A vision borne from opium fumes had taken root within his mind, a vision of a world where the name and insignia could be seen and known in all of the oceans and ports of the world. Still a way's away from such a dream, Onuphrious could almost taste such a victory.
The flames that cooked such a sweet reward, however, were doused by the cruel realities of the world. With Sutekh's fall from grace permanently scarring the name of Sheifa, there was a need for rehabilitation, both inside and out of these hall. But, could it even happen? Secrets were rife within the hei, secrets Onuphrious kept from others, but more relevant, the secrets they kept from him. What was it behind Nia's eyes that made her seem so hollow? He wondered it, but did not express his concerns so plainly.
"I'm an adult now."
You'll always be my little girl...
It was a thought he wish he could reassure her with, to put it forth and allow her some notion of comfort. If he could say the words aloud, would she heed them? Could she relinquish whatever it was that seemed to weigh on her so heavily?
"Ought to get used to not seeing much of me..."
I am used to it, and it wounds me now more than ever, when the consequences of it are so apparent.
"Is that so? Have you found someone?"
He wanted to pry, to wear down the walls of her almost-insolent refusal to be honest with him. And yet, the moment passed. His words emerged quietly, almost brushed aside by her following utterance.
"I'm enjoying myself right now, actually. Some plumes of smoke passing between father and daughter... Some words to accompany them. I wish we could enjoy more moments like this," he admitted. For all of the years Onuphrious placed distance between his family, it was only after it was torn to pieces that he realized that these shared moments made him feel more alive than any business dealing could.
But, those voices nagged him. They kept him awake, putting into question the validity of using his time to explore the relationship with children that had no real claim over his legacy. For all he wished to build bridges over the fissures in this family... he was confronted by the reality that none of them could truly wear his mantle.
Surely, that's not what matters anymore.
Onuphrious had time before that was a concern. While no longer a young man, he understood that the years were on his side. He could steer Akhenaten on a proper path. He could repair the tears into the void that his absence created. But, would he be allowed to? Not just by his progeny, but by himself? His wife?
"I don't think you want to be a ghost, Nia. Circumstance had made you into one. But, I'd like to change that. If you allow me to."
His tone was beseeching, his eyes shut in a moment as he inclined his head.
"I don't want you to be a ghost. I'd like to know what I've missed in your life."
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For all of the powers of observation that Onuphrious possessed, he couldn't piece together exactly what had transpired to make Neithotep seem a hollow shell. She walked the grounds of their family estates as a phantom and yet... Onuphrious only noticed it now when it was far too late. The reasons escaped him, and he wondered if it was even his place to venture so deeply into the girl's life, now. Once, he'd been a relatively loving father, taking children and wife alike on trips in an effort to create memories with them.
And yet... for all of those efforts the winds of time carried away those memories, leaving behind only specters and conflicts. Onuphrious spent his time with his eldest children, and even now, they were sorely missing the father figure they needed. A vision borne from opium fumes had taken root within his mind, a vision of a world where the name and insignia could be seen and known in all of the oceans and ports of the world. Still a way's away from such a dream, Onuphrious could almost taste such a victory.
The flames that cooked such a sweet reward, however, were doused by the cruel realities of the world. With Sutekh's fall from grace permanently scarring the name of Sheifa, there was a need for rehabilitation, both inside and out of these hall. But, could it even happen? Secrets were rife within the hei, secrets Onuphrious kept from others, but more relevant, the secrets they kept from him. What was it behind Nia's eyes that made her seem so hollow? He wondered it, but did not express his concerns so plainly.
"I'm an adult now."
You'll always be my little girl...
It was a thought he wish he could reassure her with, to put it forth and allow her some notion of comfort. If he could say the words aloud, would she heed them? Could she relinquish whatever it was that seemed to weigh on her so heavily?
"Ought to get used to not seeing much of me..."
I am used to it, and it wounds me now more than ever, when the consequences of it are so apparent.
"Is that so? Have you found someone?"
He wanted to pry, to wear down the walls of her almost-insolent refusal to be honest with him. And yet, the moment passed. His words emerged quietly, almost brushed aside by her following utterance.
"I'm enjoying myself right now, actually. Some plumes of smoke passing between father and daughter... Some words to accompany them. I wish we could enjoy more moments like this," he admitted. For all of the years Onuphrious placed distance between his family, it was only after it was torn to pieces that he realized that these shared moments made him feel more alive than any business dealing could.
But, those voices nagged him. They kept him awake, putting into question the validity of using his time to explore the relationship with children that had no real claim over his legacy. For all he wished to build bridges over the fissures in this family... he was confronted by the reality that none of them could truly wear his mantle.
Surely, that's not what matters anymore.
Onuphrious had time before that was a concern. While no longer a young man, he understood that the years were on his side. He could steer Akhenaten on a proper path. He could repair the tears into the void that his absence created. But, would he be allowed to? Not just by his progeny, but by himself? His wife?
"I don't think you want to be a ghost, Nia. Circumstance had made you into one. But, I'd like to change that. If you allow me to."
His tone was beseeching, his eyes shut in a moment as he inclined his head.
"I don't want you to be a ghost. I'd like to know what I've missed in your life."
For all of the powers of observation that Onuphrious possessed, he couldn't piece together exactly what had transpired to make Neithotep seem a hollow shell. She walked the grounds of their family estates as a phantom and yet... Onuphrious only noticed it now when it was far too late. The reasons escaped him, and he wondered if it was even his place to venture so deeply into the girl's life, now. Once, he'd been a relatively loving father, taking children and wife alike on trips in an effort to create memories with them.
And yet... for all of those efforts the winds of time carried away those memories, leaving behind only specters and conflicts. Onuphrious spent his time with his eldest children, and even now, they were sorely missing the father figure they needed. A vision borne from opium fumes had taken root within his mind, a vision of a world where the name and insignia could be seen and known in all of the oceans and ports of the world. Still a way's away from such a dream, Onuphrious could almost taste such a victory.
The flames that cooked such a sweet reward, however, were doused by the cruel realities of the world. With Sutekh's fall from grace permanently scarring the name of Sheifa, there was a need for rehabilitation, both inside and out of these hall. But, could it even happen? Secrets were rife within the hei, secrets Onuphrious kept from others, but more relevant, the secrets they kept from him. What was it behind Nia's eyes that made her seem so hollow? He wondered it, but did not express his concerns so plainly.
"I'm an adult now."
You'll always be my little girl...
It was a thought he wish he could reassure her with, to put it forth and allow her some notion of comfort. If he could say the words aloud, would she heed them? Could she relinquish whatever it was that seemed to weigh on her so heavily?
"Ought to get used to not seeing much of me..."
I am used to it, and it wounds me now more than ever, when the consequences of it are so apparent.
"Is that so? Have you found someone?"
He wanted to pry, to wear down the walls of her almost-insolent refusal to be honest with him. And yet, the moment passed. His words emerged quietly, almost brushed aside by her following utterance.
"I'm enjoying myself right now, actually. Some plumes of smoke passing between father and daughter... Some words to accompany them. I wish we could enjoy more moments like this," he admitted. For all of the years Onuphrious placed distance between his family, it was only after it was torn to pieces that he realized that these shared moments made him feel more alive than any business dealing could.
But, those voices nagged him. They kept him awake, putting into question the validity of using his time to explore the relationship with children that had no real claim over his legacy. For all he wished to build bridges over the fissures in this family... he was confronted by the reality that none of them could truly wear his mantle.
Surely, that's not what matters anymore.
Onuphrious had time before that was a concern. While no longer a young man, he understood that the years were on his side. He could steer Akhenaten on a proper path. He could repair the tears into the void that his absence created. But, would he be allowed to? Not just by his progeny, but by himself? His wife?
"I don't think you want to be a ghost, Nia. Circumstance had made you into one. But, I'd like to change that. If you allow me to."
His tone was beseeching, his eyes shut in a moment as he inclined his head.
"I don't want you to be a ghost. I'd like to know what I've missed in your life."
‘Is that so? Have you found someone?’
Why, yes, in fact, I have. For a moment, Nia had the absurd thought that she would tell him everything. She’d tell him about her ongoing affair with Zoser, a man right around the same age as he, though so vastly different in personality that it was hard to think of them having anything in common beyond age. She’d throw the Pharaoh’s abuse in his face, ask him how it felt to have two women of his family snatched from under his very nose while he was none the wiser. There was a cruel part of her that wanted to see his shock and horror, that itched to know how he would respond to such things.
Of course, she didn’t say any of it, only rolling her eyes at the question. It wasn’t like the answer really mattered anyway. Zoser would never be considered an acceptable man for marriage, and she knew they were running on borrowed time. To say anything to her father would be foolish at best and detrimental at worst. Better to just let it lie.
‘I wish we could enjoy more moments like this.’
She nearly felt guilty at that, averting her gaze as she poked and moved the contents of the pipe before taking another hit. She nearly felt guilty, that was, until she remembered that she was not entirely at fault for such distance, nor would she take the responsibility for it. Onuphrious had never been the most present father, even at the best of times—particularly not for her. Nefertaari and Sutekh? The sirdar would have dropped everything and shouldered the world for the two of them. But her and Hena? They were lucky to get a smile and a friendly nod in passing.
“There’s always been plenty of time for moments like these,” was her clipped response, jaw set in an unhappy line. Truly, she had sat down with the intention of a pleasant evening with her father, but every word out of his mouth was only irking her more and more. She should have known better. Was it not always this way? “But you never seemed interested unless your… better children were involved.”
He continued to speak, apparently contrite for his lack of presence in her life up until this point. But what was the phrase? Too little, too late? Where had he been for the past twenty-five years as she engaged in increasingly risky behavior—in what some would term as a desperate attempt to get the attention of the parents who had neglected her for so long. And yet where had that behavior gotten her? Into something far more dangerous, far more horrifying than anything she’d known in her life thus far. Now he wanted to rectify his error? He could kiss her ass.
“If you want to know what you’ve missed in my life, just open your eyes, Father,” she said in that same short tone from before, setting her pipe down and rising to her feet. Suddenly, this entire experience had lost its appeal. “If you don’t see, it’s only because you choose not to. Just as you chose not to see what was happening to Mother all those years ago.”
Could she drop a bigger hint? He’d have to be a fool to miss it, but Nia wasn’t really counting on his comprehension. When had he ever paid attention to her struggles?
“I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
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‘Is that so? Have you found someone?’
Why, yes, in fact, I have. For a moment, Nia had the absurd thought that she would tell him everything. She’d tell him about her ongoing affair with Zoser, a man right around the same age as he, though so vastly different in personality that it was hard to think of them having anything in common beyond age. She’d throw the Pharaoh’s abuse in his face, ask him how it felt to have two women of his family snatched from under his very nose while he was none the wiser. There was a cruel part of her that wanted to see his shock and horror, that itched to know how he would respond to such things.
Of course, she didn’t say any of it, only rolling her eyes at the question. It wasn’t like the answer really mattered anyway. Zoser would never be considered an acceptable man for marriage, and she knew they were running on borrowed time. To say anything to her father would be foolish at best and detrimental at worst. Better to just let it lie.
‘I wish we could enjoy more moments like this.’
She nearly felt guilty at that, averting her gaze as she poked and moved the contents of the pipe before taking another hit. She nearly felt guilty, that was, until she remembered that she was not entirely at fault for such distance, nor would she take the responsibility for it. Onuphrious had never been the most present father, even at the best of times—particularly not for her. Nefertaari and Sutekh? The sirdar would have dropped everything and shouldered the world for the two of them. But her and Hena? They were lucky to get a smile and a friendly nod in passing.
“There’s always been plenty of time for moments like these,” was her clipped response, jaw set in an unhappy line. Truly, she had sat down with the intention of a pleasant evening with her father, but every word out of his mouth was only irking her more and more. She should have known better. Was it not always this way? “But you never seemed interested unless your… better children were involved.”
He continued to speak, apparently contrite for his lack of presence in her life up until this point. But what was the phrase? Too little, too late? Where had he been for the past twenty-five years as she engaged in increasingly risky behavior—in what some would term as a desperate attempt to get the attention of the parents who had neglected her for so long. And yet where had that behavior gotten her? Into something far more dangerous, far more horrifying than anything she’d known in her life thus far. Now he wanted to rectify his error? He could kiss her ass.
“If you want to know what you’ve missed in my life, just open your eyes, Father,” she said in that same short tone from before, setting her pipe down and rising to her feet. Suddenly, this entire experience had lost its appeal. “If you don’t see, it’s only because you choose not to. Just as you chose not to see what was happening to Mother all those years ago.”
Could she drop a bigger hint? He’d have to be a fool to miss it, but Nia wasn’t really counting on his comprehension. When had he ever paid attention to her struggles?
“I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
‘Is that so? Have you found someone?’
Why, yes, in fact, I have. For a moment, Nia had the absurd thought that she would tell him everything. She’d tell him about her ongoing affair with Zoser, a man right around the same age as he, though so vastly different in personality that it was hard to think of them having anything in common beyond age. She’d throw the Pharaoh’s abuse in his face, ask him how it felt to have two women of his family snatched from under his very nose while he was none the wiser. There was a cruel part of her that wanted to see his shock and horror, that itched to know how he would respond to such things.
Of course, she didn’t say any of it, only rolling her eyes at the question. It wasn’t like the answer really mattered anyway. Zoser would never be considered an acceptable man for marriage, and she knew they were running on borrowed time. To say anything to her father would be foolish at best and detrimental at worst. Better to just let it lie.
‘I wish we could enjoy more moments like this.’
She nearly felt guilty at that, averting her gaze as she poked and moved the contents of the pipe before taking another hit. She nearly felt guilty, that was, until she remembered that she was not entirely at fault for such distance, nor would she take the responsibility for it. Onuphrious had never been the most present father, even at the best of times—particularly not for her. Nefertaari and Sutekh? The sirdar would have dropped everything and shouldered the world for the two of them. But her and Hena? They were lucky to get a smile and a friendly nod in passing.
“There’s always been plenty of time for moments like these,” was her clipped response, jaw set in an unhappy line. Truly, she had sat down with the intention of a pleasant evening with her father, but every word out of his mouth was only irking her more and more. She should have known better. Was it not always this way? “But you never seemed interested unless your… better children were involved.”
He continued to speak, apparently contrite for his lack of presence in her life up until this point. But what was the phrase? Too little, too late? Where had he been for the past twenty-five years as she engaged in increasingly risky behavior—in what some would term as a desperate attempt to get the attention of the parents who had neglected her for so long. And yet where had that behavior gotten her? Into something far more dangerous, far more horrifying than anything she’d known in her life thus far. Now he wanted to rectify his error? He could kiss her ass.
“If you want to know what you’ve missed in my life, just open your eyes, Father,” she said in that same short tone from before, setting her pipe down and rising to her feet. Suddenly, this entire experience had lost its appeal. “If you don’t see, it’s only because you choose not to. Just as you chose not to see what was happening to Mother all those years ago.”
Could she drop a bigger hint? He’d have to be a fool to miss it, but Nia wasn’t really counting on his comprehension. When had he ever paid attention to her struggles?
“I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
"There's always been plenty of time for moments like these."
Onuphrious should've expected it. The moment he tried to get any sort of moment with the daughter he'd neglected so much, it was shoved in his face. She rebuked his effort, singular for all of the years they'd been so incredibly distant. In truth, until recently, it scarcely mattered to Onuphrious. There were older and more competent children to make his successors, and the rest were given the leniency to bask in his wealth with not a second thought to the future.
He'd been too focused, too spread thin. He figured that they would understand the position he was in, the necessity that was his pouring himself out into the world. Did no one understand the burden he carried, almost entirely alone? Iaheru was certainly, in her time, a great asset. Both partner and treasurer, in a sense, she still dutifully fulfilled one role with the other was left to burn. Did they all take her side in this? Were his actions so incredibly depraved to them that none provided him the benefit of the doubt?
"You're right."
Of course she was. Onuphrious admitted it readily that he'd never made the time. He understood his faults, even if he was totally ignorant of just how deep those faults went. Fissures formed in H'Sheifa, the world that was their family beginning to split apart. Could it ever be healed?
Then, she gave him something. She mocked him, attacking his inability, or in her opinion, unwillingness to see. Was it his fault that none of his family was as transparent as he? Was he naive? A fool? For being so clever as to spread their name through the far reaches of the world, but not to understand the struggles that persisted within? He narrowed his gaze, arched his brow as she mentioned the desire to go to bed.
"You can't just do this to me, Nia. You can't be so deliberately cruel as to give me the time of day, just to laugh in my face when I finally try."
He nearly put his hands up in surrender, giving up on any of this having any sort of significance until he took a closer look at her. She seemed guarded in more ways than one, but in the end, without her giving how much more could he ascertain?
Just as you chose not to see what was happening to Mother all those years ago...
"Who hurt you?"
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"There's always been plenty of time for moments like these."
Onuphrious should've expected it. The moment he tried to get any sort of moment with the daughter he'd neglected so much, it was shoved in his face. She rebuked his effort, singular for all of the years they'd been so incredibly distant. In truth, until recently, it scarcely mattered to Onuphrious. There were older and more competent children to make his successors, and the rest were given the leniency to bask in his wealth with not a second thought to the future.
He'd been too focused, too spread thin. He figured that they would understand the position he was in, the necessity that was his pouring himself out into the world. Did no one understand the burden he carried, almost entirely alone? Iaheru was certainly, in her time, a great asset. Both partner and treasurer, in a sense, she still dutifully fulfilled one role with the other was left to burn. Did they all take her side in this? Were his actions so incredibly depraved to them that none provided him the benefit of the doubt?
"You're right."
Of course she was. Onuphrious admitted it readily that he'd never made the time. He understood his faults, even if he was totally ignorant of just how deep those faults went. Fissures formed in H'Sheifa, the world that was their family beginning to split apart. Could it ever be healed?
Then, she gave him something. She mocked him, attacking his inability, or in her opinion, unwillingness to see. Was it his fault that none of his family was as transparent as he? Was he naive? A fool? For being so clever as to spread their name through the far reaches of the world, but not to understand the struggles that persisted within? He narrowed his gaze, arched his brow as she mentioned the desire to go to bed.
"You can't just do this to me, Nia. You can't be so deliberately cruel as to give me the time of day, just to laugh in my face when I finally try."
He nearly put his hands up in surrender, giving up on any of this having any sort of significance until he took a closer look at her. She seemed guarded in more ways than one, but in the end, without her giving how much more could he ascertain?
Just as you chose not to see what was happening to Mother all those years ago...
"Who hurt you?"
"There's always been plenty of time for moments like these."
Onuphrious should've expected it. The moment he tried to get any sort of moment with the daughter he'd neglected so much, it was shoved in his face. She rebuked his effort, singular for all of the years they'd been so incredibly distant. In truth, until recently, it scarcely mattered to Onuphrious. There were older and more competent children to make his successors, and the rest were given the leniency to bask in his wealth with not a second thought to the future.
He'd been too focused, too spread thin. He figured that they would understand the position he was in, the necessity that was his pouring himself out into the world. Did no one understand the burden he carried, almost entirely alone? Iaheru was certainly, in her time, a great asset. Both partner and treasurer, in a sense, she still dutifully fulfilled one role with the other was left to burn. Did they all take her side in this? Were his actions so incredibly depraved to them that none provided him the benefit of the doubt?
"You're right."
Of course she was. Onuphrious admitted it readily that he'd never made the time. He understood his faults, even if he was totally ignorant of just how deep those faults went. Fissures formed in H'Sheifa, the world that was their family beginning to split apart. Could it ever be healed?
Then, she gave him something. She mocked him, attacking his inability, or in her opinion, unwillingness to see. Was it his fault that none of his family was as transparent as he? Was he naive? A fool? For being so clever as to spread their name through the far reaches of the world, but not to understand the struggles that persisted within? He narrowed his gaze, arched his brow as she mentioned the desire to go to bed.
"You can't just do this to me, Nia. You can't be so deliberately cruel as to give me the time of day, just to laugh in my face when I finally try."
He nearly put his hands up in surrender, giving up on any of this having any sort of significance until he took a closer look at her. She seemed guarded in more ways than one, but in the end, without her giving how much more could he ascertain?
Just as you chose not to see what was happening to Mother all those years ago...
"Who hurt you?"
‘You’re right.’
Those two words stopped Nia dead in her tracks, suspicious of his intent. Was the great Sirdar Onuphrious H’Sheifa really admitting fault? Could it be that he actually did see his shortcomings as a parent and recognize that the wound he’d inflicted would likely fester into eternity? Or was there still time for redemption?
Her dark gaze was cold as it stared at him, though there was something there within it… a pleading, a longing for her father to recognize the scared little girl that wore the mask of a woman. Iaheru had managed to break through to see the lost child, but the Sirdsett knew Neithotep’s pain on a deeper level. A personal level. She could see herself reflected in her daughter’s eyes, and that was something Onuphrious could not understand. But perhaps…
No. How could he expect her to suddenly open up to him, to offer her love and trust when his had been so long denied? Did he think one night of smoking opium together would suddenly solve all the issues that built up like walls between them? Truly, he was out of touch with his family’s world. Maybe he was always destined to live in his own.
‘You can't just do this to me, Nia. You can't be so deliberately cruel as to give me the time of day, just to laugh in my face when I finally try.’
“Can’t I?” was her short response, chin held up in the air with all the affront of a lifetime’s neglect. What did he really think was going to happen? “Is it my fault that you did not try before now? You cannot possibly think to ignore me for nearly as long as I’ve been alive, and then suddenly expect that I’ll go spilling my heart to you as soon as you throw me a bone. I’m not a dog, and that’s not how this works, Father.”
Then, she was ready to turn around and leave, having already announced her intent to go to bed. She even made it a few steps to the stairs before she halted again, the Sirdar’s quietly spoken query causing her to swallow and brace her hand against the wall. ‘Who hurt you?’
The short laugh that parted her lips when she made a sound again was dry and humorless, shaking her head. “Would it matter if I told you?” Nia couldn’t imagine Onuphrious storming down the walls of the Evening Star Palace as she could Iaheru—though the Sirdar might hold the theoretical power of the family, all within the Sheifa clan knew who held the real power. Or held it once, anyway.
“When I tell you there is nothing you can do, there is nothing you can do. So, no, it doesn’t matter,” she answered her own question. Bitterly, she turned to look at her father again, her mouth pursed into a moue of distaste. “Forget I said anything. Just as you always do.”
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‘You’re right.’
Those two words stopped Nia dead in her tracks, suspicious of his intent. Was the great Sirdar Onuphrious H’Sheifa really admitting fault? Could it be that he actually did see his shortcomings as a parent and recognize that the wound he’d inflicted would likely fester into eternity? Or was there still time for redemption?
Her dark gaze was cold as it stared at him, though there was something there within it… a pleading, a longing for her father to recognize the scared little girl that wore the mask of a woman. Iaheru had managed to break through to see the lost child, but the Sirdsett knew Neithotep’s pain on a deeper level. A personal level. She could see herself reflected in her daughter’s eyes, and that was something Onuphrious could not understand. But perhaps…
No. How could he expect her to suddenly open up to him, to offer her love and trust when his had been so long denied? Did he think one night of smoking opium together would suddenly solve all the issues that built up like walls between them? Truly, he was out of touch with his family’s world. Maybe he was always destined to live in his own.
‘You can't just do this to me, Nia. You can't be so deliberately cruel as to give me the time of day, just to laugh in my face when I finally try.’
“Can’t I?” was her short response, chin held up in the air with all the affront of a lifetime’s neglect. What did he really think was going to happen? “Is it my fault that you did not try before now? You cannot possibly think to ignore me for nearly as long as I’ve been alive, and then suddenly expect that I’ll go spilling my heart to you as soon as you throw me a bone. I’m not a dog, and that’s not how this works, Father.”
Then, she was ready to turn around and leave, having already announced her intent to go to bed. She even made it a few steps to the stairs before she halted again, the Sirdar’s quietly spoken query causing her to swallow and brace her hand against the wall. ‘Who hurt you?’
The short laugh that parted her lips when she made a sound again was dry and humorless, shaking her head. “Would it matter if I told you?” Nia couldn’t imagine Onuphrious storming down the walls of the Evening Star Palace as she could Iaheru—though the Sirdar might hold the theoretical power of the family, all within the Sheifa clan knew who held the real power. Or held it once, anyway.
“When I tell you there is nothing you can do, there is nothing you can do. So, no, it doesn’t matter,” she answered her own question. Bitterly, she turned to look at her father again, her mouth pursed into a moue of distaste. “Forget I said anything. Just as you always do.”
‘You’re right.’
Those two words stopped Nia dead in her tracks, suspicious of his intent. Was the great Sirdar Onuphrious H’Sheifa really admitting fault? Could it be that he actually did see his shortcomings as a parent and recognize that the wound he’d inflicted would likely fester into eternity? Or was there still time for redemption?
Her dark gaze was cold as it stared at him, though there was something there within it… a pleading, a longing for her father to recognize the scared little girl that wore the mask of a woman. Iaheru had managed to break through to see the lost child, but the Sirdsett knew Neithotep’s pain on a deeper level. A personal level. She could see herself reflected in her daughter’s eyes, and that was something Onuphrious could not understand. But perhaps…
No. How could he expect her to suddenly open up to him, to offer her love and trust when his had been so long denied? Did he think one night of smoking opium together would suddenly solve all the issues that built up like walls between them? Truly, he was out of touch with his family’s world. Maybe he was always destined to live in his own.
‘You can't just do this to me, Nia. You can't be so deliberately cruel as to give me the time of day, just to laugh in my face when I finally try.’
“Can’t I?” was her short response, chin held up in the air with all the affront of a lifetime’s neglect. What did he really think was going to happen? “Is it my fault that you did not try before now? You cannot possibly think to ignore me for nearly as long as I’ve been alive, and then suddenly expect that I’ll go spilling my heart to you as soon as you throw me a bone. I’m not a dog, and that’s not how this works, Father.”
Then, she was ready to turn around and leave, having already announced her intent to go to bed. She even made it a few steps to the stairs before she halted again, the Sirdar’s quietly spoken query causing her to swallow and brace her hand against the wall. ‘Who hurt you?’
The short laugh that parted her lips when she made a sound again was dry and humorless, shaking her head. “Would it matter if I told you?” Nia couldn’t imagine Onuphrious storming down the walls of the Evening Star Palace as she could Iaheru—though the Sirdar might hold the theoretical power of the family, all within the Sheifa clan knew who held the real power. Or held it once, anyway.
“When I tell you there is nothing you can do, there is nothing you can do. So, no, it doesn’t matter,” she answered her own question. Bitterly, she turned to look at her father again, her mouth pursed into a moue of distaste. “Forget I said anything. Just as you always do.”
Ever since Sutekh's fall from grace, Onuphrious began to question the means through which he understood the world. It was the end of the world, to allow his rage to consume him so readily that the house itself had gone aflame. He stoked the hatred within Iaheru, within himself, and it left the once-heir to Sheifa to scramble out and make his own. Regardless, it was Akhenaten who held the destiny of the Sheifas on his shoulders, and the stress of giving his kingdom to a boy he hardly knew... it overwhelmed him. He'd done wrong, again and again, pushing family away in favour of profitable but ultimately, unfulfilling associates.
I spent my life chasing a different high. But, just like Nia's, it's never enough.
He detested the opium visions he'd had of disappointing ancestors, of how his looking to the future had become so rampant in his psyche, so cumbersome that he left the present behind. Sheifa had their name on buildings, in ports, and through it all, it burned to the ground right in his precious Thebes. When he expressed himself, she shot him down, immediately. He'd never told the rest of his vision, of the epiphany that set the stage for this incredible oversight that was his life. He could, at the very least, explain it to Neithotep, since she clearly held the desire to bite back at him. It kept her here, speaking to him, and he found he needed it. Even if she expressed only ire and lament, it was real.
Something he'd been lacking in for too long. The world wanted to kiss his ass, get in his good graces. Honeyed words and lively offerings. But here Nia was, throwing venom in his face and he couldn't help but want to hear more of it.
Please...
"Forget I said anything. Just as you always do."
Onuphrious shook his head as he followed her path, stopping at the foot of the stairs as he said,
"It does matter, Nia. I can protect you, if you're in trouble. I haven't been around, yes. But, you are my blood, my daughter. If I'm here to listen, you will be heard."
The words felt hollow, bitter, but he did mean every word he said.
"I know I've done you wrong. I realize my error in giving all of my attention to Sutekh and Nefertaari. Please come down and let me regale you with an old man's lament... But before that," he took several steps, scaling the stairs until he took the step just two below hers.
"Does the Evening Star Palace have anything to do with this, Nia? You want to tell me. You wouldn't be throwing these hurtful hints in my face if it wasn't on your brain to do it."
The sirdar took hold of Nia's wrist, gently urging her to come back down as he took one step down, extending his arm to keep the light grip in place.
"I'm not going to forget this. Tell me what the crown has done to you."
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Ever since Sutekh's fall from grace, Onuphrious began to question the means through which he understood the world. It was the end of the world, to allow his rage to consume him so readily that the house itself had gone aflame. He stoked the hatred within Iaheru, within himself, and it left the once-heir to Sheifa to scramble out and make his own. Regardless, it was Akhenaten who held the destiny of the Sheifas on his shoulders, and the stress of giving his kingdom to a boy he hardly knew... it overwhelmed him. He'd done wrong, again and again, pushing family away in favour of profitable but ultimately, unfulfilling associates.
I spent my life chasing a different high. But, just like Nia's, it's never enough.
He detested the opium visions he'd had of disappointing ancestors, of how his looking to the future had become so rampant in his psyche, so cumbersome that he left the present behind. Sheifa had their name on buildings, in ports, and through it all, it burned to the ground right in his precious Thebes. When he expressed himself, she shot him down, immediately. He'd never told the rest of his vision, of the epiphany that set the stage for this incredible oversight that was his life. He could, at the very least, explain it to Neithotep, since she clearly held the desire to bite back at him. It kept her here, speaking to him, and he found he needed it. Even if she expressed only ire and lament, it was real.
Something he'd been lacking in for too long. The world wanted to kiss his ass, get in his good graces. Honeyed words and lively offerings. But here Nia was, throwing venom in his face and he couldn't help but want to hear more of it.
Please...
"Forget I said anything. Just as you always do."
Onuphrious shook his head as he followed her path, stopping at the foot of the stairs as he said,
"It does matter, Nia. I can protect you, if you're in trouble. I haven't been around, yes. But, you are my blood, my daughter. If I'm here to listen, you will be heard."
The words felt hollow, bitter, but he did mean every word he said.
"I know I've done you wrong. I realize my error in giving all of my attention to Sutekh and Nefertaari. Please come down and let me regale you with an old man's lament... But before that," he took several steps, scaling the stairs until he took the step just two below hers.
"Does the Evening Star Palace have anything to do with this, Nia? You want to tell me. You wouldn't be throwing these hurtful hints in my face if it wasn't on your brain to do it."
The sirdar took hold of Nia's wrist, gently urging her to come back down as he took one step down, extending his arm to keep the light grip in place.
"I'm not going to forget this. Tell me what the crown has done to you."
Ever since Sutekh's fall from grace, Onuphrious began to question the means through which he understood the world. It was the end of the world, to allow his rage to consume him so readily that the house itself had gone aflame. He stoked the hatred within Iaheru, within himself, and it left the once-heir to Sheifa to scramble out and make his own. Regardless, it was Akhenaten who held the destiny of the Sheifas on his shoulders, and the stress of giving his kingdom to a boy he hardly knew... it overwhelmed him. He'd done wrong, again and again, pushing family away in favour of profitable but ultimately, unfulfilling associates.
I spent my life chasing a different high. But, just like Nia's, it's never enough.
He detested the opium visions he'd had of disappointing ancestors, of how his looking to the future had become so rampant in his psyche, so cumbersome that he left the present behind. Sheifa had their name on buildings, in ports, and through it all, it burned to the ground right in his precious Thebes. When he expressed himself, she shot him down, immediately. He'd never told the rest of his vision, of the epiphany that set the stage for this incredible oversight that was his life. He could, at the very least, explain it to Neithotep, since she clearly held the desire to bite back at him. It kept her here, speaking to him, and he found he needed it. Even if she expressed only ire and lament, it was real.
Something he'd been lacking in for too long. The world wanted to kiss his ass, get in his good graces. Honeyed words and lively offerings. But here Nia was, throwing venom in his face and he couldn't help but want to hear more of it.
Please...
"Forget I said anything. Just as you always do."
Onuphrious shook his head as he followed her path, stopping at the foot of the stairs as he said,
"It does matter, Nia. I can protect you, if you're in trouble. I haven't been around, yes. But, you are my blood, my daughter. If I'm here to listen, you will be heard."
The words felt hollow, bitter, but he did mean every word he said.
"I know I've done you wrong. I realize my error in giving all of my attention to Sutekh and Nefertaari. Please come down and let me regale you with an old man's lament... But before that," he took several steps, scaling the stairs until he took the step just two below hers.
"Does the Evening Star Palace have anything to do with this, Nia? You want to tell me. You wouldn't be throwing these hurtful hints in my face if it wasn't on your brain to do it."
The sirdar took hold of Nia's wrist, gently urging her to come back down as he took one step down, extending his arm to keep the light grip in place.
"I'm not going to forget this. Tell me what the crown has done to you."
Part of her did want to tell him. Onuphrious H’Sheifa was one of the most powerful men in Egypt, and if there was anyone who could help Nia, logic said it was him. But then she thought of all the times he had ignored her, the distance he kept from his family, the anger he showed when Iaheru revealed her own forced indiscretion… and the words froze in her mouth.
What would he do if she revealed the truth? Would he take the burden on himself, arrange his silent army as the Sirdsett assured her daughter she would do? Or would he storm the Palace with all the might of Hei Sheifa and destroy the family’s already crumbling reputation? Perhaps he would do neither. After all, Iahotep was the Pharaoh. If he wanted her, there was nothing to say he couldn’t have her. The King of Kings could have whatever he pleased, and Nia could not say no. So, what was there really for Sirdar to do? Demand an apology? No. No, revealing her plight would only make things worse. Onuphrious could change nothing. She was foolish to even have the thought.
“It doesn’t matter,” she asserted in a dead voice as she pulled her wrist from his grasp, separating them further by climbing up a few stairs. “It’s never mattered. It’s too late now.”
Nia froze when he asked if the Evening Star Palace had anything to do with this, demanded to know what the crown had done to her. Her fingers clenched, nails digging into her palms, as her teeth ground together so hard she thought they might crumble. Everything, she wanted to say. Everything you can imagine, and so much more that you cannot.
But she stayed silent, resolute that she would not cave so easily. She had been foolish to say as much as she did, childish to hurl such obvious pain into his face. Truthfully, she should have just kept walking when she saw him sitting there in the parlor, pity be damned. This wasn’t a good idea. She rarely had good ideas. She needed to leave.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” she said in that same flat tone, gaze dark and unreadable as it met his. “Don’t concern yourself. It’s nothing more than anyone would expect from someone like me anyway.”
While most days Nia didn’t care of her reputation, it was times like these that it hurt her—that she could claim the pharaoh’s rape, but none would believe her. They would say she asked for it, she instigated it, it was nothing more than her usual behavior, but this time… She sighed. Like she told her father, it didn’t matter. Choice was an illusion, one shattered for her long ago. All she could do now was live with it.
“I’m going to bed.”
With that, she left him behind on the stairs, footsteps carrying her up and into her bedroom where she knew he would not follow. Door shut and locked behind her, Nia did her best to let go of the day, to forget the conversation she just had with her father. She was leaving for Cairo in the morning. Coming to Thebes hadn’t been such a good idea, after all.
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Part of her did want to tell him. Onuphrious H’Sheifa was one of the most powerful men in Egypt, and if there was anyone who could help Nia, logic said it was him. But then she thought of all the times he had ignored her, the distance he kept from his family, the anger he showed when Iaheru revealed her own forced indiscretion… and the words froze in her mouth.
What would he do if she revealed the truth? Would he take the burden on himself, arrange his silent army as the Sirdsett assured her daughter she would do? Or would he storm the Palace with all the might of Hei Sheifa and destroy the family’s already crumbling reputation? Perhaps he would do neither. After all, Iahotep was the Pharaoh. If he wanted her, there was nothing to say he couldn’t have her. The King of Kings could have whatever he pleased, and Nia could not say no. So, what was there really for Sirdar to do? Demand an apology? No. No, revealing her plight would only make things worse. Onuphrious could change nothing. She was foolish to even have the thought.
“It doesn’t matter,” she asserted in a dead voice as she pulled her wrist from his grasp, separating them further by climbing up a few stairs. “It’s never mattered. It’s too late now.”
Nia froze when he asked if the Evening Star Palace had anything to do with this, demanded to know what the crown had done to her. Her fingers clenched, nails digging into her palms, as her teeth ground together so hard she thought they might crumble. Everything, she wanted to say. Everything you can imagine, and so much more that you cannot.
But she stayed silent, resolute that she would not cave so easily. She had been foolish to say as much as she did, childish to hurl such obvious pain into his face. Truthfully, she should have just kept walking when she saw him sitting there in the parlor, pity be damned. This wasn’t a good idea. She rarely had good ideas. She needed to leave.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” she said in that same flat tone, gaze dark and unreadable as it met his. “Don’t concern yourself. It’s nothing more than anyone would expect from someone like me anyway.”
While most days Nia didn’t care of her reputation, it was times like these that it hurt her—that she could claim the pharaoh’s rape, but none would believe her. They would say she asked for it, she instigated it, it was nothing more than her usual behavior, but this time… She sighed. Like she told her father, it didn’t matter. Choice was an illusion, one shattered for her long ago. All she could do now was live with it.
“I’m going to bed.”
With that, she left him behind on the stairs, footsteps carrying her up and into her bedroom where she knew he would not follow. Door shut and locked behind her, Nia did her best to let go of the day, to forget the conversation she just had with her father. She was leaving for Cairo in the morning. Coming to Thebes hadn’t been such a good idea, after all.
Part of her did want to tell him. Onuphrious H’Sheifa was one of the most powerful men in Egypt, and if there was anyone who could help Nia, logic said it was him. But then she thought of all the times he had ignored her, the distance he kept from his family, the anger he showed when Iaheru revealed her own forced indiscretion… and the words froze in her mouth.
What would he do if she revealed the truth? Would he take the burden on himself, arrange his silent army as the Sirdsett assured her daughter she would do? Or would he storm the Palace with all the might of Hei Sheifa and destroy the family’s already crumbling reputation? Perhaps he would do neither. After all, Iahotep was the Pharaoh. If he wanted her, there was nothing to say he couldn’t have her. The King of Kings could have whatever he pleased, and Nia could not say no. So, what was there really for Sirdar to do? Demand an apology? No. No, revealing her plight would only make things worse. Onuphrious could change nothing. She was foolish to even have the thought.
“It doesn’t matter,” she asserted in a dead voice as she pulled her wrist from his grasp, separating them further by climbing up a few stairs. “It’s never mattered. It’s too late now.”
Nia froze when he asked if the Evening Star Palace had anything to do with this, demanded to know what the crown had done to her. Her fingers clenched, nails digging into her palms, as her teeth ground together so hard she thought they might crumble. Everything, she wanted to say. Everything you can imagine, and so much more that you cannot.
But she stayed silent, resolute that she would not cave so easily. She had been foolish to say as much as she did, childish to hurl such obvious pain into his face. Truthfully, she should have just kept walking when she saw him sitting there in the parlor, pity be damned. This wasn’t a good idea. She rarely had good ideas. She needed to leave.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” she said in that same flat tone, gaze dark and unreadable as it met his. “Don’t concern yourself. It’s nothing more than anyone would expect from someone like me anyway.”
While most days Nia didn’t care of her reputation, it was times like these that it hurt her—that she could claim the pharaoh’s rape, but none would believe her. They would say she asked for it, she instigated it, it was nothing more than her usual behavior, but this time… She sighed. Like she told her father, it didn’t matter. Choice was an illusion, one shattered for her long ago. All she could do now was live with it.
“I’m going to bed.”
With that, she left him behind on the stairs, footsteps carrying her up and into her bedroom where she knew he would not follow. Door shut and locked behind her, Nia did her best to let go of the day, to forget the conversation she just had with her father. She was leaving for Cairo in the morning. Coming to Thebes hadn’t been such a good idea, after all.
