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As Narmer made his way to the the H’Sheifa Saraya, he could not help but think that maybe this was a little too soon. He couldn’t fault Neithotep’s motivations in declining their union, but he had his pride, and it still smarted at the rejection. However, he also knew that Hei Haikaddad was not in a position where he could afford to foster any ill will with such a family, and so he’d shoved down his reservations and accepted the invitation to dinner.
Sirdar Onuphrious had not been forthcoming into what he wished to discuss outside of exploring other options for their Heis to work together, but Narmer was quietly hopeful that it might be something to allow him to bring in a little gold. In an honest way.
His mystery benefactor still had not revealed themselves, and after speaking with Zoser, Narmer was more than a little anxious that he had been a fool to accept it. He’d had little choice, not with debts to pay and him due to leave for the North any day now, but it still made his stomach churn uneasily. The horse he rode, a flighty thing as shining red as a red viper, picked up on his tension and danced its way toward the Sheifa house so that by the time they arrived the deep chestnut coat was lathered with sweat. Narmer asked the stable slave for a damp cloth so he could at least wipe down his hands, and then he straightened his garments, rolled his shoulders and walked to the front door of the saraya.
Not wishing to attend without bringing some kind of offering to his host, he had with him some fine tanned leather out of Rofhah, from those damned Hippo that were making his life a misery. It was not as fine a git as he would have liked to bring, but there was not an abundance of funds to procure something finer at such short notice. Either way, the package was tucked under his arm as he waited to be admitted.
With this likely to be one of his final nights of frivolity before he would lead armies to join the Pharoah’s planned invasion of the greek islands, he knew he ought to embrace it. But with so much pinned on whatever relations could be fostered with the H’Sheifa house, he was not entirely able to relax, fidgeting with the gold on his wrists, eyes flickering around the home as a slave showed him in.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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As Narmer made his way to the the H’Sheifa Saraya, he could not help but think that maybe this was a little too soon. He couldn’t fault Neithotep’s motivations in declining their union, but he had his pride, and it still smarted at the rejection. However, he also knew that Hei Haikaddad was not in a position where he could afford to foster any ill will with such a family, and so he’d shoved down his reservations and accepted the invitation to dinner.
Sirdar Onuphrious had not been forthcoming into what he wished to discuss outside of exploring other options for their Heis to work together, but Narmer was quietly hopeful that it might be something to allow him to bring in a little gold. In an honest way.
His mystery benefactor still had not revealed themselves, and after speaking with Zoser, Narmer was more than a little anxious that he had been a fool to accept it. He’d had little choice, not with debts to pay and him due to leave for the North any day now, but it still made his stomach churn uneasily. The horse he rode, a flighty thing as shining red as a red viper, picked up on his tension and danced its way toward the Sheifa house so that by the time they arrived the deep chestnut coat was lathered with sweat. Narmer asked the stable slave for a damp cloth so he could at least wipe down his hands, and then he straightened his garments, rolled his shoulders and walked to the front door of the saraya.
Not wishing to attend without bringing some kind of offering to his host, he had with him some fine tanned leather out of Rofhah, from those damned Hippo that were making his life a misery. It was not as fine a git as he would have liked to bring, but there was not an abundance of funds to procure something finer at such short notice. Either way, the package was tucked under his arm as he waited to be admitted.
With this likely to be one of his final nights of frivolity before he would lead armies to join the Pharoah’s planned invasion of the greek islands, he knew he ought to embrace it. But with so much pinned on whatever relations could be fostered with the H’Sheifa house, he was not entirely able to relax, fidgeting with the gold on his wrists, eyes flickering around the home as a slave showed him in.
As Narmer made his way to the the H’Sheifa Saraya, he could not help but think that maybe this was a little too soon. He couldn’t fault Neithotep’s motivations in declining their union, but he had his pride, and it still smarted at the rejection. However, he also knew that Hei Haikaddad was not in a position where he could afford to foster any ill will with such a family, and so he’d shoved down his reservations and accepted the invitation to dinner.
Sirdar Onuphrious had not been forthcoming into what he wished to discuss outside of exploring other options for their Heis to work together, but Narmer was quietly hopeful that it might be something to allow him to bring in a little gold. In an honest way.
His mystery benefactor still had not revealed themselves, and after speaking with Zoser, Narmer was more than a little anxious that he had been a fool to accept it. He’d had little choice, not with debts to pay and him due to leave for the North any day now, but it still made his stomach churn uneasily. The horse he rode, a flighty thing as shining red as a red viper, picked up on his tension and danced its way toward the Sheifa house so that by the time they arrived the deep chestnut coat was lathered with sweat. Narmer asked the stable slave for a damp cloth so he could at least wipe down his hands, and then he straightened his garments, rolled his shoulders and walked to the front door of the saraya.
Not wishing to attend without bringing some kind of offering to his host, he had with him some fine tanned leather out of Rofhah, from those damned Hippo that were making his life a misery. It was not as fine a git as he would have liked to bring, but there was not an abundance of funds to procure something finer at such short notice. Either way, the package was tucked under his arm as he waited to be admitted.
With this likely to be one of his final nights of frivolity before he would lead armies to join the Pharoah’s planned invasion of the greek islands, he knew he ought to embrace it. But with so much pinned on whatever relations could be fostered with the H’Sheifa house, he was not entirely able to relax, fidgeting with the gold on his wrists, eyes flickering around the home as a slave showed him in.
Onuphrious couldn't help but roll his eyes at the notion of Iaheru going behind his back and arranging Neithotep with the sirdar of H'Haikaddad. It was such a risky move, given her reputation and how important it was to secure him as a prospect. It was the boy's request, but he'd sooner see Nenet in that position than the whirlwind that was his middle daughter. The sirdar seemed a sweet boy, from the times he'd seen him in the council. He could empathize with his position, and lamented the losses that thrust him into that place.
But, the past was where it was, and the sirdar decided it was high time for him to make his own arrangements. Narmer's response, pointing to the notion of a brewing conflict in the north only spurred him onward. He had to act quickly, and unify the Heis of Egypt before some sordid affair served to further divide them. The sirdar imagined the realm of Egypt as a playing mat, each eligible piece a component towards victory. Not necessarily for himself, but for everyone. Far be it for the sirdar's faults as a father to get in the way of peace and propserity.
So, he abandoned the notion of Iaheru's meddling and Narmer's request. The boy would understand that the union was more important than the prospect. One could, after all, grow to love anyone. And Nenet had her moments. Or at least, he suspected he did. Aloof at the best of times, he wondered distantly if today was the first time he'd called Nenet out to much of anything in years, let alone something this signficant. He spared no resources in making this night go as smoothly as it needed to. Nearly a dozen slaves, all armed with brushes, malachite, kohl, and the choice of endless fabrics for Nenet to be wrapped in, it was a special order he made for this occasion that he prized above all.
He hadn't given it to any of the slaves, intent on bestowing it upon his daughter himself just before he introduced her to the other sirdar. It all had to be perfect, an ostentatious display to serve to remind the sirdar not just whom, but into what family he was marrying into.
"Is she ready yet?" he wondered, asking the single slave he'd tasked in combing back his hair. He'd been dressed and tended to first, draped in golden shawls and a shendyt gilded with rare obsidian stone. Thin golden rings looped together to cinch the fabric to his body, and rather than stay and wait for the slave to be done or to answer, he rose with the comb in hand to venture towards Nenet's room as her keepers continued onward. Keen not to spoil the surprise for himself, he kept his gaze upward, seeing only his daughter's face as one hand moved to cover most of his line of sight.
"This is such an important occasion, Nenet. I figured that this would be in order."
He placed a golden tiara upon her head, etched and dyed over to show the mark of the Sheifas. Further gilded with jeweled amethyst, the sirdar flashed his daughter a smile before he said,
"You'll be seeing the sirdar of Hei Haikaddad, Narmer. I think he makes a lovely match for you, dear Nenet."
And with that, and no further assurances or a spared glance, he left the room so that the slaves could finish with her. He had to go greet the sirdar and offer him the hospitality expected.
"My lord, your guest has arrived," a slave called out from the hall.
"Wonderful."
Smoothing one hand over the other in anticipation of it all, the sirdar made haste and welcomed Narmer himself, extending a bow towards the younger sirdar before he said,
"Welcome, welcome! Please, my lord, you need not be so tense. Care for some dates? Almonds? Whatever you wish for is at your disposal. Lady Nenet will be out shortly, and with her arrival, we can usher in our formalities."
He took a seat at the head of the table, fingering one of the golden, empty plates set near him just before he called out to a servant to retrieve wine for three of them.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Onuphrious couldn't help but roll his eyes at the notion of Iaheru going behind his back and arranging Neithotep with the sirdar of H'Haikaddad. It was such a risky move, given her reputation and how important it was to secure him as a prospect. It was the boy's request, but he'd sooner see Nenet in that position than the whirlwind that was his middle daughter. The sirdar seemed a sweet boy, from the times he'd seen him in the council. He could empathize with his position, and lamented the losses that thrust him into that place.
But, the past was where it was, and the sirdar decided it was high time for him to make his own arrangements. Narmer's response, pointing to the notion of a brewing conflict in the north only spurred him onward. He had to act quickly, and unify the Heis of Egypt before some sordid affair served to further divide them. The sirdar imagined the realm of Egypt as a playing mat, each eligible piece a component towards victory. Not necessarily for himself, but for everyone. Far be it for the sirdar's faults as a father to get in the way of peace and propserity.
So, he abandoned the notion of Iaheru's meddling and Narmer's request. The boy would understand that the union was more important than the prospect. One could, after all, grow to love anyone. And Nenet had her moments. Or at least, he suspected he did. Aloof at the best of times, he wondered distantly if today was the first time he'd called Nenet out to much of anything in years, let alone something this signficant. He spared no resources in making this night go as smoothly as it needed to. Nearly a dozen slaves, all armed with brushes, malachite, kohl, and the choice of endless fabrics for Nenet to be wrapped in, it was a special order he made for this occasion that he prized above all.
He hadn't given it to any of the slaves, intent on bestowing it upon his daughter himself just before he introduced her to the other sirdar. It all had to be perfect, an ostentatious display to serve to remind the sirdar not just whom, but into what family he was marrying into.
"Is she ready yet?" he wondered, asking the single slave he'd tasked in combing back his hair. He'd been dressed and tended to first, draped in golden shawls and a shendyt gilded with rare obsidian stone. Thin golden rings looped together to cinch the fabric to his body, and rather than stay and wait for the slave to be done or to answer, he rose with the comb in hand to venture towards Nenet's room as her keepers continued onward. Keen not to spoil the surprise for himself, he kept his gaze upward, seeing only his daughter's face as one hand moved to cover most of his line of sight.
"This is such an important occasion, Nenet. I figured that this would be in order."
He placed a golden tiara upon her head, etched and dyed over to show the mark of the Sheifas. Further gilded with jeweled amethyst, the sirdar flashed his daughter a smile before he said,
"You'll be seeing the sirdar of Hei Haikaddad, Narmer. I think he makes a lovely match for you, dear Nenet."
And with that, and no further assurances or a spared glance, he left the room so that the slaves could finish with her. He had to go greet the sirdar and offer him the hospitality expected.
"My lord, your guest has arrived," a slave called out from the hall.
"Wonderful."
Smoothing one hand over the other in anticipation of it all, the sirdar made haste and welcomed Narmer himself, extending a bow towards the younger sirdar before he said,
"Welcome, welcome! Please, my lord, you need not be so tense. Care for some dates? Almonds? Whatever you wish for is at your disposal. Lady Nenet will be out shortly, and with her arrival, we can usher in our formalities."
He took a seat at the head of the table, fingering one of the golden, empty plates set near him just before he called out to a servant to retrieve wine for three of them.
Onuphrious couldn't help but roll his eyes at the notion of Iaheru going behind his back and arranging Neithotep with the sirdar of H'Haikaddad. It was such a risky move, given her reputation and how important it was to secure him as a prospect. It was the boy's request, but he'd sooner see Nenet in that position than the whirlwind that was his middle daughter. The sirdar seemed a sweet boy, from the times he'd seen him in the council. He could empathize with his position, and lamented the losses that thrust him into that place.
But, the past was where it was, and the sirdar decided it was high time for him to make his own arrangements. Narmer's response, pointing to the notion of a brewing conflict in the north only spurred him onward. He had to act quickly, and unify the Heis of Egypt before some sordid affair served to further divide them. The sirdar imagined the realm of Egypt as a playing mat, each eligible piece a component towards victory. Not necessarily for himself, but for everyone. Far be it for the sirdar's faults as a father to get in the way of peace and propserity.
So, he abandoned the notion of Iaheru's meddling and Narmer's request. The boy would understand that the union was more important than the prospect. One could, after all, grow to love anyone. And Nenet had her moments. Or at least, he suspected he did. Aloof at the best of times, he wondered distantly if today was the first time he'd called Nenet out to much of anything in years, let alone something this signficant. He spared no resources in making this night go as smoothly as it needed to. Nearly a dozen slaves, all armed with brushes, malachite, kohl, and the choice of endless fabrics for Nenet to be wrapped in, it was a special order he made for this occasion that he prized above all.
He hadn't given it to any of the slaves, intent on bestowing it upon his daughter himself just before he introduced her to the other sirdar. It all had to be perfect, an ostentatious display to serve to remind the sirdar not just whom, but into what family he was marrying into.
"Is she ready yet?" he wondered, asking the single slave he'd tasked in combing back his hair. He'd been dressed and tended to first, draped in golden shawls and a shendyt gilded with rare obsidian stone. Thin golden rings looped together to cinch the fabric to his body, and rather than stay and wait for the slave to be done or to answer, he rose with the comb in hand to venture towards Nenet's room as her keepers continued onward. Keen not to spoil the surprise for himself, he kept his gaze upward, seeing only his daughter's face as one hand moved to cover most of his line of sight.
"This is such an important occasion, Nenet. I figured that this would be in order."
He placed a golden tiara upon her head, etched and dyed over to show the mark of the Sheifas. Further gilded with jeweled amethyst, the sirdar flashed his daughter a smile before he said,
"You'll be seeing the sirdar of Hei Haikaddad, Narmer. I think he makes a lovely match for you, dear Nenet."
And with that, and no further assurances or a spared glance, he left the room so that the slaves could finish with her. He had to go greet the sirdar and offer him the hospitality expected.
"My lord, your guest has arrived," a slave called out from the hall.
"Wonderful."
Smoothing one hand over the other in anticipation of it all, the sirdar made haste and welcomed Narmer himself, extending a bow towards the younger sirdar before he said,
"Welcome, welcome! Please, my lord, you need not be so tense. Care for some dates? Almonds? Whatever you wish for is at your disposal. Lady Nenet will be out shortly, and with her arrival, we can usher in our formalities."
He took a seat at the head of the table, fingering one of the golden, empty plates set near him just before he called out to a servant to retrieve wine for three of them.
The sanctity of her room was akin to that of any high priest’s within a god’s temple. Lined with bookshelves where books were set two layers deep, the room held the scent of papyrus and leather. On the balcony outside was a small mountain of books to be read beneath a fluttering fabric overhang that shielded her from the sun’s worst heat.
Dotted around the room stood easels with canvases of half finished paintings, each being visited as and when inspiration struck her. Art was her mistress and reading her great love. Paint pots sat beside each easel and a cushion before it so that she might drop in, paint for awhile, and leave at her leisure. Between these crucial past times that made up her life lay clothes. Because Nenet so rarely left her room and did not want the servants in to disturb her carefully crafted ‘artiste studio’, they weren’t allowed to clean in here. Her kalasiris’s lay where they were dropped. Bangles of gold and silver glittered in each pile from where even her jewelry did not make it into the appropriate box.
Nenet lay on her stomach in the midst of her bed, bare legs swinging idly back and forth as she read the latest trash novel she’d gotten her hands on. As she popped a date into her mouth from the little bowl that sat on the rumpled sheets, she was seeing visions of rippling pectorals and the wide, startled eyes of the book’s heroine. They were about to kiss for the first time and her own eyes were huge as they devoured the words ‘trembling’ and ‘honeyed’ and ‘burgeoning’. Oh this was it….this was IT-KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
Nenet’s head jerked up and the date dropped from her fingers to bounce on the sheets. She wrinkled her nose. Ugh. Ew. Now she couldn’t eat it. With the greatest effort, she turned onto her hip and drew away from the book, the date still in her palm. “W-w-what?” she asked peevishly as she tiptoed over her sleeping cat that had made quite the little nest of one of Nefertaari’s gowns that Nenet had stolen. Nenet hopped from one foot to the other, trying not to land on any clothing piles and instead in the minimal floorspace between. There was always the possibility that her bare foot might come down on the swordpoint of an earring and that wouldn’t do at all.
She’d nearly made it to the balcony when the door opened and an army of female servants stepped in. They didn’t hide their revulsion of the mess. “G-g-get o-out!” Nenet said indignantly and tossed the date over the balcony and onto the street below. She didn’t see it bounce off the head of a passerby who rubbed his hair and looked up very confused. Her attention was on the servants not leaving. In fact, they were speaking and muttering among themselves. She put her hands on her hips and frowned, close to stamping her foot. She hated when people ignored her.
“E-e-ex-xcuse m-m-me?” she raised her brows. “G-g-g-o aw-w-way.”
“Pardon us, my lady,” the lead servant finally dropped her a curtsey and produced something a little worrying from behind her back while other servants began scooping up clothes in great armfuls and taking them from the room to the laundry. She heard one of the servants exclaim to another, “There are those dates! I knew I wasn’t crazy! And Cook was blaming me!”
Nenet reached out a hand but she wasn’t quick enough with her speech to stop either the dresses being taken away or the dates as they were scooped from the bed and taken also. HEY! She wanted to scream but was confronted by the head servant who was stepping ominously towards her, speaking slowly, as though to a contrary horse that might bolt...which Nenet very well might if she got the chance. ”Now, now, my lady,” the servant came closer with the box that Nenet now recognized as a cosmetics box. She shook her head and stepped back, bumping into the vanity. Something clattered on the tabletop behind her and she grasped the edge of the wood, expression crumpling. ”We can do this easy or hard, but Master says you’re to be made up all pretty like…And I will be doing as he says.”
Nenet imagined this was just what it felt like to be murdered. She wanted to hold up a hand and dramatically scream “NO! NO! NO!” but what ended up happening is she dropped into the chair and sulked at her own reflection as the servants went to work. It wasn’t that she didn’t like being made up like a doll but she was at a really, really important part of the book. After the kiss, those two might have s-e-x...she HAD to know! Only the servants were doing battle with her hair and someone was painting her lips while another swiped blue onto her eyelids. The makeup shimmered from the crushed sapphires that caught the light. Soon the kohl was applied and she hardly looked like the ill kempt ragamuffin from a few minutes ago.
This was when Onuphrios came into the room. Nenet narrowed her dramatic eyes at him and turned in the chair. She didn’t speak to him but her thoughts about this were plainly visible in the stubborn tilt of her chin and unhappy twist to her mouth. Did he know what he’d interrupted?? But then her eyebrows raised at the tiara. Oooooooh...okay. She could be bought.
“This is such an important occasion, Nenet. I figured that this would be in order.” She smiled and reached up to finger the tiara then twisted back around to observe its effects in the mirror. Onuphrious was a shadow over her shoulder and she didn’t pay him much attention. “You'll be seeing the sirdar of Hei Haikaddad, Narmer.” Wait. Nenet’s eyes found his reflection and her smile faded. ”I think he makes a lovely match for you, dear Nenet.”
Then Onuphrious swept off and Nenet’s mouth dropped. MATCH! MATCH WHAT MATCH! She scrambled out of the chair. All the ornamentation in the world didn’t make her gainly in that moment. Her earrings tinkled and the bracelets on her wrists clinked. She skidded into the hall but Onuphrios was faster and she only saw his shadow disappearing down the stairs. “M-match?” she repeated breathlessly to herself. ...Oh ho. Not if she had anything to say about it.
The servants were gone and she turned slowly to eye the kohl pot. Ha. She’d fix him. It only took a few moments but she grinned at the effects in the mirror. Quite pleased with her work, she positively floated from the room with the grace of someone gloating for already having won the battle. Narmer, Narmer, Narmer. He’d be running from the house.
Presenting herself down the stairs, she kept her smile to only that of lips, but as soon as she was shown to him, and she dipped into her curtsey, she beamed a radiant, black toothed smile at him. “W-w-welc-come!” she stammered and then slyly looked over her shoulder at her father.
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Check out their information page here.
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Check out their information page here.
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The sanctity of her room was akin to that of any high priest’s within a god’s temple. Lined with bookshelves where books were set two layers deep, the room held the scent of papyrus and leather. On the balcony outside was a small mountain of books to be read beneath a fluttering fabric overhang that shielded her from the sun’s worst heat.
Dotted around the room stood easels with canvases of half finished paintings, each being visited as and when inspiration struck her. Art was her mistress and reading her great love. Paint pots sat beside each easel and a cushion before it so that she might drop in, paint for awhile, and leave at her leisure. Between these crucial past times that made up her life lay clothes. Because Nenet so rarely left her room and did not want the servants in to disturb her carefully crafted ‘artiste studio’, they weren’t allowed to clean in here. Her kalasiris’s lay where they were dropped. Bangles of gold and silver glittered in each pile from where even her jewelry did not make it into the appropriate box.
Nenet lay on her stomach in the midst of her bed, bare legs swinging idly back and forth as she read the latest trash novel she’d gotten her hands on. As she popped a date into her mouth from the little bowl that sat on the rumpled sheets, she was seeing visions of rippling pectorals and the wide, startled eyes of the book’s heroine. They were about to kiss for the first time and her own eyes were huge as they devoured the words ‘trembling’ and ‘honeyed’ and ‘burgeoning’. Oh this was it….this was IT-KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
Nenet’s head jerked up and the date dropped from her fingers to bounce on the sheets. She wrinkled her nose. Ugh. Ew. Now she couldn’t eat it. With the greatest effort, she turned onto her hip and drew away from the book, the date still in her palm. “W-w-what?” she asked peevishly as she tiptoed over her sleeping cat that had made quite the little nest of one of Nefertaari’s gowns that Nenet had stolen. Nenet hopped from one foot to the other, trying not to land on any clothing piles and instead in the minimal floorspace between. There was always the possibility that her bare foot might come down on the swordpoint of an earring and that wouldn’t do at all.
She’d nearly made it to the balcony when the door opened and an army of female servants stepped in. They didn’t hide their revulsion of the mess. “G-g-get o-out!” Nenet said indignantly and tossed the date over the balcony and onto the street below. She didn’t see it bounce off the head of a passerby who rubbed his hair and looked up very confused. Her attention was on the servants not leaving. In fact, they were speaking and muttering among themselves. She put her hands on her hips and frowned, close to stamping her foot. She hated when people ignored her.
“E-e-ex-xcuse m-m-me?” she raised her brows. “G-g-g-o aw-w-way.”
“Pardon us, my lady,” the lead servant finally dropped her a curtsey and produced something a little worrying from behind her back while other servants began scooping up clothes in great armfuls and taking them from the room to the laundry. She heard one of the servants exclaim to another, “There are those dates! I knew I wasn’t crazy! And Cook was blaming me!”
Nenet reached out a hand but she wasn’t quick enough with her speech to stop either the dresses being taken away or the dates as they were scooped from the bed and taken also. HEY! She wanted to scream but was confronted by the head servant who was stepping ominously towards her, speaking slowly, as though to a contrary horse that might bolt...which Nenet very well might if she got the chance. ”Now, now, my lady,” the servant came closer with the box that Nenet now recognized as a cosmetics box. She shook her head and stepped back, bumping into the vanity. Something clattered on the tabletop behind her and she grasped the edge of the wood, expression crumpling. ”We can do this easy or hard, but Master says you’re to be made up all pretty like…And I will be doing as he says.”
Nenet imagined this was just what it felt like to be murdered. She wanted to hold up a hand and dramatically scream “NO! NO! NO!” but what ended up happening is she dropped into the chair and sulked at her own reflection as the servants went to work. It wasn’t that she didn’t like being made up like a doll but she was at a really, really important part of the book. After the kiss, those two might have s-e-x...she HAD to know! Only the servants were doing battle with her hair and someone was painting her lips while another swiped blue onto her eyelids. The makeup shimmered from the crushed sapphires that caught the light. Soon the kohl was applied and she hardly looked like the ill kempt ragamuffin from a few minutes ago.
This was when Onuphrios came into the room. Nenet narrowed her dramatic eyes at him and turned in the chair. She didn’t speak to him but her thoughts about this were plainly visible in the stubborn tilt of her chin and unhappy twist to her mouth. Did he know what he’d interrupted?? But then her eyebrows raised at the tiara. Oooooooh...okay. She could be bought.
“This is such an important occasion, Nenet. I figured that this would be in order.” She smiled and reached up to finger the tiara then twisted back around to observe its effects in the mirror. Onuphrious was a shadow over her shoulder and she didn’t pay him much attention. “You'll be seeing the sirdar of Hei Haikaddad, Narmer.” Wait. Nenet’s eyes found his reflection and her smile faded. ”I think he makes a lovely match for you, dear Nenet.”
Then Onuphrious swept off and Nenet’s mouth dropped. MATCH! MATCH WHAT MATCH! She scrambled out of the chair. All the ornamentation in the world didn’t make her gainly in that moment. Her earrings tinkled and the bracelets on her wrists clinked. She skidded into the hall but Onuphrios was faster and she only saw his shadow disappearing down the stairs. “M-match?” she repeated breathlessly to herself. ...Oh ho. Not if she had anything to say about it.
The servants were gone and she turned slowly to eye the kohl pot. Ha. She’d fix him. It only took a few moments but she grinned at the effects in the mirror. Quite pleased with her work, she positively floated from the room with the grace of someone gloating for already having won the battle. Narmer, Narmer, Narmer. He’d be running from the house.
Presenting herself down the stairs, she kept her smile to only that of lips, but as soon as she was shown to him, and she dipped into her curtsey, she beamed a radiant, black toothed smile at him. “W-w-welc-come!” she stammered and then slyly looked over her shoulder at her father.
The sanctity of her room was akin to that of any high priest’s within a god’s temple. Lined with bookshelves where books were set two layers deep, the room held the scent of papyrus and leather. On the balcony outside was a small mountain of books to be read beneath a fluttering fabric overhang that shielded her from the sun’s worst heat.
Dotted around the room stood easels with canvases of half finished paintings, each being visited as and when inspiration struck her. Art was her mistress and reading her great love. Paint pots sat beside each easel and a cushion before it so that she might drop in, paint for awhile, and leave at her leisure. Between these crucial past times that made up her life lay clothes. Because Nenet so rarely left her room and did not want the servants in to disturb her carefully crafted ‘artiste studio’, they weren’t allowed to clean in here. Her kalasiris’s lay where they were dropped. Bangles of gold and silver glittered in each pile from where even her jewelry did not make it into the appropriate box.
Nenet lay on her stomach in the midst of her bed, bare legs swinging idly back and forth as she read the latest trash novel she’d gotten her hands on. As she popped a date into her mouth from the little bowl that sat on the rumpled sheets, she was seeing visions of rippling pectorals and the wide, startled eyes of the book’s heroine. They were about to kiss for the first time and her own eyes were huge as they devoured the words ‘trembling’ and ‘honeyed’ and ‘burgeoning’. Oh this was it….this was IT-KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
Nenet’s head jerked up and the date dropped from her fingers to bounce on the sheets. She wrinkled her nose. Ugh. Ew. Now she couldn’t eat it. With the greatest effort, she turned onto her hip and drew away from the book, the date still in her palm. “W-w-what?” she asked peevishly as she tiptoed over her sleeping cat that had made quite the little nest of one of Nefertaari’s gowns that Nenet had stolen. Nenet hopped from one foot to the other, trying not to land on any clothing piles and instead in the minimal floorspace between. There was always the possibility that her bare foot might come down on the swordpoint of an earring and that wouldn’t do at all.
She’d nearly made it to the balcony when the door opened and an army of female servants stepped in. They didn’t hide their revulsion of the mess. “G-g-get o-out!” Nenet said indignantly and tossed the date over the balcony and onto the street below. She didn’t see it bounce off the head of a passerby who rubbed his hair and looked up very confused. Her attention was on the servants not leaving. In fact, they were speaking and muttering among themselves. She put her hands on her hips and frowned, close to stamping her foot. She hated when people ignored her.
“E-e-ex-xcuse m-m-me?” she raised her brows. “G-g-g-o aw-w-way.”
“Pardon us, my lady,” the lead servant finally dropped her a curtsey and produced something a little worrying from behind her back while other servants began scooping up clothes in great armfuls and taking them from the room to the laundry. She heard one of the servants exclaim to another, “There are those dates! I knew I wasn’t crazy! And Cook was blaming me!”
Nenet reached out a hand but she wasn’t quick enough with her speech to stop either the dresses being taken away or the dates as they were scooped from the bed and taken also. HEY! She wanted to scream but was confronted by the head servant who was stepping ominously towards her, speaking slowly, as though to a contrary horse that might bolt...which Nenet very well might if she got the chance. ”Now, now, my lady,” the servant came closer with the box that Nenet now recognized as a cosmetics box. She shook her head and stepped back, bumping into the vanity. Something clattered on the tabletop behind her and she grasped the edge of the wood, expression crumpling. ”We can do this easy or hard, but Master says you’re to be made up all pretty like…And I will be doing as he says.”
Nenet imagined this was just what it felt like to be murdered. She wanted to hold up a hand and dramatically scream “NO! NO! NO!” but what ended up happening is she dropped into the chair and sulked at her own reflection as the servants went to work. It wasn’t that she didn’t like being made up like a doll but she was at a really, really important part of the book. After the kiss, those two might have s-e-x...she HAD to know! Only the servants were doing battle with her hair and someone was painting her lips while another swiped blue onto her eyelids. The makeup shimmered from the crushed sapphires that caught the light. Soon the kohl was applied and she hardly looked like the ill kempt ragamuffin from a few minutes ago.
This was when Onuphrios came into the room. Nenet narrowed her dramatic eyes at him and turned in the chair. She didn’t speak to him but her thoughts about this were plainly visible in the stubborn tilt of her chin and unhappy twist to her mouth. Did he know what he’d interrupted?? But then her eyebrows raised at the tiara. Oooooooh...okay. She could be bought.
“This is such an important occasion, Nenet. I figured that this would be in order.” She smiled and reached up to finger the tiara then twisted back around to observe its effects in the mirror. Onuphrious was a shadow over her shoulder and she didn’t pay him much attention. “You'll be seeing the sirdar of Hei Haikaddad, Narmer.” Wait. Nenet’s eyes found his reflection and her smile faded. ”I think he makes a lovely match for you, dear Nenet.”
Then Onuphrious swept off and Nenet’s mouth dropped. MATCH! MATCH WHAT MATCH! She scrambled out of the chair. All the ornamentation in the world didn’t make her gainly in that moment. Her earrings tinkled and the bracelets on her wrists clinked. She skidded into the hall but Onuphrios was faster and she only saw his shadow disappearing down the stairs. “M-match?” she repeated breathlessly to herself. ...Oh ho. Not if she had anything to say about it.
The servants were gone and she turned slowly to eye the kohl pot. Ha. She’d fix him. It only took a few moments but she grinned at the effects in the mirror. Quite pleased with her work, she positively floated from the room with the grace of someone gloating for already having won the battle. Narmer, Narmer, Narmer. He’d be running from the house.
Presenting herself down the stairs, she kept her smile to only that of lips, but as soon as she was shown to him, and she dipped into her curtsey, she beamed a radiant, black toothed smile at him. “W-w-welc-come!” she stammered and then slyly looked over her shoulder at her father.
Narmer had followed the slave inside, giving a respectful bow when Onuphrious had shown himself, and he’d trailed after the man into a room with a table already laid for dinner, eyes skipping around as he took a measure of his surroundings. Before they could sit, he remembered the package he brought with him and cleared his throat before offering it toward the H’Sheifa sirdar.
“A small gift, I am afraid, but a gift all the same”. Narmer waved a hand. “I hope you may find some use for it. If you need more, I have access to an unfortunately bountiful supply” He waved a hand dismissively. After the war, he’d resolved, something would have to be done about the Hippos. He wasn’t sure what. But he was sick to the teeth of receiving word that yet another fisherman had been killed. Soon he would have a province with no people in it.
As they sat, Narmer first rested his forearm upon the table before he sat back and folded them in front of him instead. Onuphrious’ words registered with him a little late, and he was just following them through to a logical conclusion. Lady Nenet? Well...that was not a thing he’d considered, truth be told. The younger H’Sheifa girl had sort of escaped his notice altogether if he were honest. Whilst keeping a neutral expression, he tried to recall any gatherings where he even recalled her presence.
“My thanks, sirdar.” he ventured with what he hoped was an easy smile. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I would prefer we speak plainly. These formalities…?”
If it were as he thought and Onuphrious was proposing a match with his younger daughter instead, well, Narmer was not in a position to refuse, really. It didn’t matter who he married - it would be helpful if the woman knew at least the basics of running a house and could see that the estate was not allowed to fall into disrepair as it had under Nameeah’s hand. Surely Lady Nenet would be able to muster that.
He was already counting off the ways the dowry would help when the young woman presented herself, Narmer scrambling to his feet as she entered and giving the girl a sharp bow before he looked up and let himself look at what was being offered to him.
Ah well. She was a pretty little thing. Not so much as her sister, but Narmer reminded himself that camel had already bolted. Yes. Yes, she would do. This would be fine. He smiled and reached for a cup of wine to pass to her so he might toast her beauty. That would be a fine beginning to these negotiations.
Only as he extended the cup toward her, the girl dipped into a curtsy and glanced up at him from deep, umber eyes beneath sooty lashes. Quite pleasing, really. And her lips parted into a smile and….GAH.
Where there should be shiny white teeth, not unlike those he was now baring in a grimace, there was only grey-black, and the H’Heikaddad lord recoiled in shock and revulsion. Narmer had snatched his hand back without intending to, sending wine sloshing everywhere, and a slave rushed forward with a cloth to dab at the floor and the visiting lord himself as a crimson spread like a bloodstain. Narmer barely noticed.
What was this toothless hag that Onuphrious tried to palm off on him? His startled-rabbit gaze swivelled first to the Sirdar before some ingrained manners kicked in, and Narmer stuttered out a greeting, blinking quickly.
“I don’t…. I’m not certain I’ve had the pleasure,” he forced out, though he was beginning to wonder if there was not a reason why he didn't recall the younger girl being out and about. Maybe they kept her home for the shame of it. This was how the H’Sheifa lord thought to make reparations with him? Narmer felt both angered and cornered at the same time. He could ill afford to refuse a marriage, even if it were to this...substandard offering. He forced a strained smile of his own and took a large sip of his wine. [/i]
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Narmer had followed the slave inside, giving a respectful bow when Onuphrious had shown himself, and he’d trailed after the man into a room with a table already laid for dinner, eyes skipping around as he took a measure of his surroundings. Before they could sit, he remembered the package he brought with him and cleared his throat before offering it toward the H’Sheifa sirdar.
“A small gift, I am afraid, but a gift all the same”. Narmer waved a hand. “I hope you may find some use for it. If you need more, I have access to an unfortunately bountiful supply” He waved a hand dismissively. After the war, he’d resolved, something would have to be done about the Hippos. He wasn’t sure what. But he was sick to the teeth of receiving word that yet another fisherman had been killed. Soon he would have a province with no people in it.
As they sat, Narmer first rested his forearm upon the table before he sat back and folded them in front of him instead. Onuphrious’ words registered with him a little late, and he was just following them through to a logical conclusion. Lady Nenet? Well...that was not a thing he’d considered, truth be told. The younger H’Sheifa girl had sort of escaped his notice altogether if he were honest. Whilst keeping a neutral expression, he tried to recall any gatherings where he even recalled her presence.
“My thanks, sirdar.” he ventured with what he hoped was an easy smile. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I would prefer we speak plainly. These formalities…?”
If it were as he thought and Onuphrious was proposing a match with his younger daughter instead, well, Narmer was not in a position to refuse, really. It didn’t matter who he married - it would be helpful if the woman knew at least the basics of running a house and could see that the estate was not allowed to fall into disrepair as it had under Nameeah’s hand. Surely Lady Nenet would be able to muster that.
He was already counting off the ways the dowry would help when the young woman presented herself, Narmer scrambling to his feet as she entered and giving the girl a sharp bow before he looked up and let himself look at what was being offered to him.
Ah well. She was a pretty little thing. Not so much as her sister, but Narmer reminded himself that camel had already bolted. Yes. Yes, she would do. This would be fine. He smiled and reached for a cup of wine to pass to her so he might toast her beauty. That would be a fine beginning to these negotiations.
Only as he extended the cup toward her, the girl dipped into a curtsy and glanced up at him from deep, umber eyes beneath sooty lashes. Quite pleasing, really. And her lips parted into a smile and….GAH.
Where there should be shiny white teeth, not unlike those he was now baring in a grimace, there was only grey-black, and the H’Heikaddad lord recoiled in shock and revulsion. Narmer had snatched his hand back without intending to, sending wine sloshing everywhere, and a slave rushed forward with a cloth to dab at the floor and the visiting lord himself as a crimson spread like a bloodstain. Narmer barely noticed.
What was this toothless hag that Onuphrious tried to palm off on him? His startled-rabbit gaze swivelled first to the Sirdar before some ingrained manners kicked in, and Narmer stuttered out a greeting, blinking quickly.
“I don’t…. I’m not certain I’ve had the pleasure,” he forced out, though he was beginning to wonder if there was not a reason why he didn't recall the younger girl being out and about. Maybe they kept her home for the shame of it. This was how the H’Sheifa lord thought to make reparations with him? Narmer felt both angered and cornered at the same time. He could ill afford to refuse a marriage, even if it were to this...substandard offering. He forced a strained smile of his own and took a large sip of his wine. [/i]
Narmer had followed the slave inside, giving a respectful bow when Onuphrious had shown himself, and he’d trailed after the man into a room with a table already laid for dinner, eyes skipping around as he took a measure of his surroundings. Before they could sit, he remembered the package he brought with him and cleared his throat before offering it toward the H’Sheifa sirdar.
“A small gift, I am afraid, but a gift all the same”. Narmer waved a hand. “I hope you may find some use for it. If you need more, I have access to an unfortunately bountiful supply” He waved a hand dismissively. After the war, he’d resolved, something would have to be done about the Hippos. He wasn’t sure what. But he was sick to the teeth of receiving word that yet another fisherman had been killed. Soon he would have a province with no people in it.
As they sat, Narmer first rested his forearm upon the table before he sat back and folded them in front of him instead. Onuphrious’ words registered with him a little late, and he was just following them through to a logical conclusion. Lady Nenet? Well...that was not a thing he’d considered, truth be told. The younger H’Sheifa girl had sort of escaped his notice altogether if he were honest. Whilst keeping a neutral expression, he tried to recall any gatherings where he even recalled her presence.
“My thanks, sirdar.” he ventured with what he hoped was an easy smile. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I would prefer we speak plainly. These formalities…?”
If it were as he thought and Onuphrious was proposing a match with his younger daughter instead, well, Narmer was not in a position to refuse, really. It didn’t matter who he married - it would be helpful if the woman knew at least the basics of running a house and could see that the estate was not allowed to fall into disrepair as it had under Nameeah’s hand. Surely Lady Nenet would be able to muster that.
He was already counting off the ways the dowry would help when the young woman presented herself, Narmer scrambling to his feet as she entered and giving the girl a sharp bow before he looked up and let himself look at what was being offered to him.
Ah well. She was a pretty little thing. Not so much as her sister, but Narmer reminded himself that camel had already bolted. Yes. Yes, she would do. This would be fine. He smiled and reached for a cup of wine to pass to her so he might toast her beauty. That would be a fine beginning to these negotiations.
Only as he extended the cup toward her, the girl dipped into a curtsy and glanced up at him from deep, umber eyes beneath sooty lashes. Quite pleasing, really. And her lips parted into a smile and….GAH.
Where there should be shiny white teeth, not unlike those he was now baring in a grimace, there was only grey-black, and the H’Heikaddad lord recoiled in shock and revulsion. Narmer had snatched his hand back without intending to, sending wine sloshing everywhere, and a slave rushed forward with a cloth to dab at the floor and the visiting lord himself as a crimson spread like a bloodstain. Narmer barely noticed.
What was this toothless hag that Onuphrious tried to palm off on him? His startled-rabbit gaze swivelled first to the Sirdar before some ingrained manners kicked in, and Narmer stuttered out a greeting, blinking quickly.
“I don’t…. I’m not certain I’ve had the pleasure,” he forced out, though he was beginning to wonder if there was not a reason why he didn't recall the younger girl being out and about. Maybe they kept her home for the shame of it. This was how the H’Sheifa lord thought to make reparations with him? Narmer felt both angered and cornered at the same time. He could ill afford to refuse a marriage, even if it were to this...substandard offering. He forced a strained smile of his own and took a large sip of his wine. [/i]
WHAT MATCH! She scrambled out of the chair. All the ornamentation in the world didn’t make her gainly in that moment. Her earrings tinkled and the bracelets on her wrists clinked. She skidded into the hall but Onuphrios was faster and she only saw his shadow disappearing down the stairs. “M-match?” she repeated breathlessly to herself. ...Oh ho. Not if she had anything to say about it.