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A hand fell on the back of Iaheru’s chair, startling her from a poppy haze. Iaheru reflexively pinched the bridge of a burning nose. “Lady?”
Iaheru inhaled, straightening her posture. Her slumped figure was a betrayal to her pristine nature. Peripheral vision bled with reds, purples, and braids of youthful green papyrus as she tried to focus on what Guard Set was telling her.
“Lady Iaheru? Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” she pried herself to consciousness, smoothing out the folds of a house kalasiris, resting the hands to her lap as she watched water drip from the mouth of a golden cobra at the head of the entrance. “Keep the lanterns lit,” She ordered.
“Lady Iaheru,” Set raised an eyebrow in concern as Iaheru crossed her left leg over her right. “Are you sure you want to stay here? It’s so late…”
“Please Set, we’ve known each other for far too long to call me that,” she rose, the joints of her back popping loudly. Lazy eyes wandered across the ochre and turquoise frescoes, the gold leaf glistening with the dance of oil braziers. off of the dance of oil braziers. The heat from the licking flames dissipated into the indigo night. “Until Neithotep comes home, keep the lanterns lit. I will send for Onuphrious when I deem it necessary.”
Which she wouldn’t. Onuphrious was entirely unnecessary now, if he had been necessary at all. Even before he had shut himself away in his quarters, Iaheru was the force behind Hei Sheifa’s future while Onuphrious preoccupied himself with business. He was trained to be an economist and she was born to rise, thus she was the quiet wind beneath all of Hei Sheifa’s many sails. Sails that would soon be pin-pricked with arrow holes and decimated by the pillage of war. Iaheru worried greatly about the future. When her ascension interrupted, she tended to exert control over the less thought about areas of life, and this manifested in Neithotep and Akhenaten.
Tonight, she waited for Neithotep. Only part of her possessed motherly anxiety, mostly, she was consumed by obsessive energy as she paced the marbled mosaic corridors. This house was old, but it was pristine, oozing wealth and a history of prosperity. Amber irises fixated on the foyer fountain once more, the honeyed rose water poured from the forked serpentine tongue, rippling over capiz shells with soft plinks. Velvet soft rose petals formed a mesh and ambled across the surface of the tinted water. The waves reflected crystalline stars back to the night's domain. Everyone who witnessed the greatness of Hei Sheifa walked through this foyer. They saw this fountain- the manifestation of their true nature at the helm of the forked tongue generously dripping in honeyed words, a venom that poisoned their adversaries sans the sourness of blood or the breaking of spear heads.
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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A hand fell on the back of Iaheru’s chair, startling her from a poppy haze. Iaheru reflexively pinched the bridge of a burning nose. “Lady?”
Iaheru inhaled, straightening her posture. Her slumped figure was a betrayal to her pristine nature. Peripheral vision bled with reds, purples, and braids of youthful green papyrus as she tried to focus on what Guard Set was telling her.
“Lady Iaheru? Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” she pried herself to consciousness, smoothing out the folds of a house kalasiris, resting the hands to her lap as she watched water drip from the mouth of a golden cobra at the head of the entrance. “Keep the lanterns lit,” She ordered.
“Lady Iaheru,” Set raised an eyebrow in concern as Iaheru crossed her left leg over her right. “Are you sure you want to stay here? It’s so late…”
“Please Set, we’ve known each other for far too long to call me that,” she rose, the joints of her back popping loudly. Lazy eyes wandered across the ochre and turquoise frescoes, the gold leaf glistening with the dance of oil braziers. off of the dance of oil braziers. The heat from the licking flames dissipated into the indigo night. “Until Neithotep comes home, keep the lanterns lit. I will send for Onuphrious when I deem it necessary.”
Which she wouldn’t. Onuphrious was entirely unnecessary now, if he had been necessary at all. Even before he had shut himself away in his quarters, Iaheru was the force behind Hei Sheifa’s future while Onuphrious preoccupied himself with business. He was trained to be an economist and she was born to rise, thus she was the quiet wind beneath all of Hei Sheifa’s many sails. Sails that would soon be pin-pricked with arrow holes and decimated by the pillage of war. Iaheru worried greatly about the future. When her ascension interrupted, she tended to exert control over the less thought about areas of life, and this manifested in Neithotep and Akhenaten.
Tonight, she waited for Neithotep. Only part of her possessed motherly anxiety, mostly, she was consumed by obsessive energy as she paced the marbled mosaic corridors. This house was old, but it was pristine, oozing wealth and a history of prosperity. Amber irises fixated on the foyer fountain once more, the honeyed rose water poured from the forked serpentine tongue, rippling over capiz shells with soft plinks. Velvet soft rose petals formed a mesh and ambled across the surface of the tinted water. The waves reflected crystalline stars back to the night's domain. Everyone who witnessed the greatness of Hei Sheifa walked through this foyer. They saw this fountain- the manifestation of their true nature at the helm of the forked tongue generously dripping in honeyed words, a venom that poisoned their adversaries sans the sourness of blood or the breaking of spear heads.
A hand fell on the back of Iaheru’s chair, startling her from a poppy haze. Iaheru reflexively pinched the bridge of a burning nose. “Lady?”
Iaheru inhaled, straightening her posture. Her slumped figure was a betrayal to her pristine nature. Peripheral vision bled with reds, purples, and braids of youthful green papyrus as she tried to focus on what Guard Set was telling her.
“Lady Iaheru? Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” she pried herself to consciousness, smoothing out the folds of a house kalasiris, resting the hands to her lap as she watched water drip from the mouth of a golden cobra at the head of the entrance. “Keep the lanterns lit,” She ordered.
“Lady Iaheru,” Set raised an eyebrow in concern as Iaheru crossed her left leg over her right. “Are you sure you want to stay here? It’s so late…”
“Please Set, we’ve known each other for far too long to call me that,” she rose, the joints of her back popping loudly. Lazy eyes wandered across the ochre and turquoise frescoes, the gold leaf glistening with the dance of oil braziers. off of the dance of oil braziers. The heat from the licking flames dissipated into the indigo night. “Until Neithotep comes home, keep the lanterns lit. I will send for Onuphrious when I deem it necessary.”
Which she wouldn’t. Onuphrious was entirely unnecessary now, if he had been necessary at all. Even before he had shut himself away in his quarters, Iaheru was the force behind Hei Sheifa’s future while Onuphrious preoccupied himself with business. He was trained to be an economist and she was born to rise, thus she was the quiet wind beneath all of Hei Sheifa’s many sails. Sails that would soon be pin-pricked with arrow holes and decimated by the pillage of war. Iaheru worried greatly about the future. When her ascension interrupted, she tended to exert control over the less thought about areas of life, and this manifested in Neithotep and Akhenaten.
Tonight, she waited for Neithotep. Only part of her possessed motherly anxiety, mostly, she was consumed by obsessive energy as she paced the marbled mosaic corridors. This house was old, but it was pristine, oozing wealth and a history of prosperity. Amber irises fixated on the foyer fountain once more, the honeyed rose water poured from the forked serpentine tongue, rippling over capiz shells with soft plinks. Velvet soft rose petals formed a mesh and ambled across the surface of the tinted water. The waves reflected crystalline stars back to the night's domain. Everyone who witnessed the greatness of Hei Sheifa walked through this foyer. They saw this fountain- the manifestation of their true nature at the helm of the forked tongue generously dripping in honeyed words, a venom that poisoned their adversaries sans the sourness of blood or the breaking of spear heads.
The moonlit world around her was a muted kaleidoscope of color as Neithotep stumbled home, her mind reeling with poppy dreams and her knees wobbly with wine. It had been a long, eventful night, much of which she already couldn’t remember, but she was glowing with contentment, nonetheless. These were the nights she lived for, the ones that were always hazy in the recall. They were what made her feel alive.
Though the closer she came to the home of Hei Sheifa, the more her happiness started to dissipate. The hours when she returned to reality were the hours she dreaded most, a stark reminder that these nights couldn’t last forever. Eventually, her parents were bound to crack down on her, to rope her back in and force her into the duties life demanded of a lady of her position. Her careless youth was coming to an end, and Nia was desperate to hang on for a little while longer.
Her steps slowed as she approached the house, her dark gaze narrowing when she saw the outdoor braziers were still lit. Had the slaves forgotten to tamp them out? Or was someone actually still awake? Nia looked around suspiciously, the beadwork of her netted dress clicking together softly with the motion of her turning. Who would still be up at this hour? The only one she could imagine was Akhenaten, but with her mother’s recent fixation on her youngest sibling, she doubted that were the case. Unless, perhaps, he’d dared to wait up for her?
Dubious hope spurred her forward, cursing under her breath that there was no other readily accessible entry point into the house, especially not in the dark. Unless it were her brother waiting for her, she knew whatever was coming wasn’t going to be a conversation she wanted to have. Nia took a deep breath when she approached the door, hesitating for a few moments longer. Maybe she’d get lucky and whoever it was wouldn’t hear her come in. It was possible, right?
She should have known better.
All hope of quietly sneaking past vanished when Neithotep entered the immaculate foyer of the Sheifa household and found none other than Iaheru H’Sheifa herself pacing the entryway like a cat stalking its prey. And with her heart in her throat and her stomach tied in knots, Nia suddenly felt very much the mouse.
“Mother,” she nervously greeted the older woman with a respectful nod of her head. It might even have looked a courtly gesture if the small motion hadn’t nearly set her off balance, stumbling and righting herself with a flush of her cheeks. Already, this conversation was going… well.
“Wha’ are you doing up this late?” The slur of her speech was pronounced even in such a brief question, making it more than obvious why she was still awake. “Is e’erything all right?”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The moonlit world around her was a muted kaleidoscope of color as Neithotep stumbled home, her mind reeling with poppy dreams and her knees wobbly with wine. It had been a long, eventful night, much of which she already couldn’t remember, but she was glowing with contentment, nonetheless. These were the nights she lived for, the ones that were always hazy in the recall. They were what made her feel alive.
Though the closer she came to the home of Hei Sheifa, the more her happiness started to dissipate. The hours when she returned to reality were the hours she dreaded most, a stark reminder that these nights couldn’t last forever. Eventually, her parents were bound to crack down on her, to rope her back in and force her into the duties life demanded of a lady of her position. Her careless youth was coming to an end, and Nia was desperate to hang on for a little while longer.
Her steps slowed as she approached the house, her dark gaze narrowing when she saw the outdoor braziers were still lit. Had the slaves forgotten to tamp them out? Or was someone actually still awake? Nia looked around suspiciously, the beadwork of her netted dress clicking together softly with the motion of her turning. Who would still be up at this hour? The only one she could imagine was Akhenaten, but with her mother’s recent fixation on her youngest sibling, she doubted that were the case. Unless, perhaps, he’d dared to wait up for her?
Dubious hope spurred her forward, cursing under her breath that there was no other readily accessible entry point into the house, especially not in the dark. Unless it were her brother waiting for her, she knew whatever was coming wasn’t going to be a conversation she wanted to have. Nia took a deep breath when she approached the door, hesitating for a few moments longer. Maybe she’d get lucky and whoever it was wouldn’t hear her come in. It was possible, right?
She should have known better.
All hope of quietly sneaking past vanished when Neithotep entered the immaculate foyer of the Sheifa household and found none other than Iaheru H’Sheifa herself pacing the entryway like a cat stalking its prey. And with her heart in her throat and her stomach tied in knots, Nia suddenly felt very much the mouse.
“Mother,” she nervously greeted the older woman with a respectful nod of her head. It might even have looked a courtly gesture if the small motion hadn’t nearly set her off balance, stumbling and righting herself with a flush of her cheeks. Already, this conversation was going… well.
“Wha’ are you doing up this late?” The slur of her speech was pronounced even in such a brief question, making it more than obvious why she was still awake. “Is e’erything all right?”
The moonlit world around her was a muted kaleidoscope of color as Neithotep stumbled home, her mind reeling with poppy dreams and her knees wobbly with wine. It had been a long, eventful night, much of which she already couldn’t remember, but she was glowing with contentment, nonetheless. These were the nights she lived for, the ones that were always hazy in the recall. They were what made her feel alive.
Though the closer she came to the home of Hei Sheifa, the more her happiness started to dissipate. The hours when she returned to reality were the hours she dreaded most, a stark reminder that these nights couldn’t last forever. Eventually, her parents were bound to crack down on her, to rope her back in and force her into the duties life demanded of a lady of her position. Her careless youth was coming to an end, and Nia was desperate to hang on for a little while longer.
Her steps slowed as she approached the house, her dark gaze narrowing when she saw the outdoor braziers were still lit. Had the slaves forgotten to tamp them out? Or was someone actually still awake? Nia looked around suspiciously, the beadwork of her netted dress clicking together softly with the motion of her turning. Who would still be up at this hour? The only one she could imagine was Akhenaten, but with her mother’s recent fixation on her youngest sibling, she doubted that were the case. Unless, perhaps, he’d dared to wait up for her?
Dubious hope spurred her forward, cursing under her breath that there was no other readily accessible entry point into the house, especially not in the dark. Unless it were her brother waiting for her, she knew whatever was coming wasn’t going to be a conversation she wanted to have. Nia took a deep breath when she approached the door, hesitating for a few moments longer. Maybe she’d get lucky and whoever it was wouldn’t hear her come in. It was possible, right?
She should have known better.
All hope of quietly sneaking past vanished when Neithotep entered the immaculate foyer of the Sheifa household and found none other than Iaheru H’Sheifa herself pacing the entryway like a cat stalking its prey. And with her heart in her throat and her stomach tied in knots, Nia suddenly felt very much the mouse.
“Mother,” she nervously greeted the older woman with a respectful nod of her head. It might even have looked a courtly gesture if the small motion hadn’t nearly set her off balance, stumbling and righting herself with a flush of her cheeks. Already, this conversation was going… well.
“Wha’ are you doing up this late?” The slur of her speech was pronounced even in such a brief question, making it more than obvious why she was still awake. “Is e’erything all right?”
When Neithotep entered the marble foyer, Iaheru’s rage surmounted to a blistering simmer beneath her skin. The wane of her own opium high evident, her emotions leaning towards irritation, eyes bloodshot from the hour of the evening. “No,” Iaheru’s lips pursed to disappearance. "I was waiting up for you, Neithotep."
The network dress, the stench of wine, the mud caked around her feet... “Neithotep,” Iaheru pinched the bridge of her nose, unaware what she can say that has not been said to the woman before. “Your father and I… We’ve told you before…” Iaheru, so rarely lost in her emotions and fatigued paused, taking a moment to collect herself before resting her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “You cannot wear these things. You’re lucky I am the one who stayed up.”
Iaheru’s hands fell to her sides and she takes to pacing the length of the fountain, staring at the reflections of the stars. The Pharaohs ascended to the night sky when they died, speckling the night with immortality. Many, many moons ago, one of those stars took her and her modesty in exchange for her sun, Sutekh. In Sutekh’s absence, Iaheru perceived everything as a loose end in desperate need of suturing to wholeness. “At least tell someone where you are going.”
“I was born on the banks. I went to the same inns and parties, Neithotep. I know what happens there.” Iaheru rolled up the hem of her kalasiris, crossing her feet in the rose bath politely. “And you come into my home, smelling of opium? At this hour?”
Her feet lightly kicked in the water, her hair dropped to frame her face and with an elegant sweep, was tucked behind her ear. "I understand, you're young. You're going to go to parties. You're going to take to the trends," Iaheru once again glanced at the dress, which was becoming, but ultimately all too inviting. "How can I help you, child? What is it that I missed?"
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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When Neithotep entered the marble foyer, Iaheru’s rage surmounted to a blistering simmer beneath her skin. The wane of her own opium high evident, her emotions leaning towards irritation, eyes bloodshot from the hour of the evening. “No,” Iaheru’s lips pursed to disappearance. "I was waiting up for you, Neithotep."
The network dress, the stench of wine, the mud caked around her feet... “Neithotep,” Iaheru pinched the bridge of her nose, unaware what she can say that has not been said to the woman before. “Your father and I… We’ve told you before…” Iaheru, so rarely lost in her emotions and fatigued paused, taking a moment to collect herself before resting her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “You cannot wear these things. You’re lucky I am the one who stayed up.”
Iaheru’s hands fell to her sides and she takes to pacing the length of the fountain, staring at the reflections of the stars. The Pharaohs ascended to the night sky when they died, speckling the night with immortality. Many, many moons ago, one of those stars took her and her modesty in exchange for her sun, Sutekh. In Sutekh’s absence, Iaheru perceived everything as a loose end in desperate need of suturing to wholeness. “At least tell someone where you are going.”
“I was born on the banks. I went to the same inns and parties, Neithotep. I know what happens there.” Iaheru rolled up the hem of her kalasiris, crossing her feet in the rose bath politely. “And you come into my home, smelling of opium? At this hour?”
Her feet lightly kicked in the water, her hair dropped to frame her face and with an elegant sweep, was tucked behind her ear. "I understand, you're young. You're going to go to parties. You're going to take to the trends," Iaheru once again glanced at the dress, which was becoming, but ultimately all too inviting. "How can I help you, child? What is it that I missed?"
When Neithotep entered the marble foyer, Iaheru’s rage surmounted to a blistering simmer beneath her skin. The wane of her own opium high evident, her emotions leaning towards irritation, eyes bloodshot from the hour of the evening. “No,” Iaheru’s lips pursed to disappearance. "I was waiting up for you, Neithotep."
The network dress, the stench of wine, the mud caked around her feet... “Neithotep,” Iaheru pinched the bridge of her nose, unaware what she can say that has not been said to the woman before. “Your father and I… We’ve told you before…” Iaheru, so rarely lost in her emotions and fatigued paused, taking a moment to collect herself before resting her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “You cannot wear these things. You’re lucky I am the one who stayed up.”
Iaheru’s hands fell to her sides and she takes to pacing the length of the fountain, staring at the reflections of the stars. The Pharaohs ascended to the night sky when they died, speckling the night with immortality. Many, many moons ago, one of those stars took her and her modesty in exchange for her sun, Sutekh. In Sutekh’s absence, Iaheru perceived everything as a loose end in desperate need of suturing to wholeness. “At least tell someone where you are going.”
“I was born on the banks. I went to the same inns and parties, Neithotep. I know what happens there.” Iaheru rolled up the hem of her kalasiris, crossing her feet in the rose bath politely. “And you come into my home, smelling of opium? At this hour?”
Her feet lightly kicked in the water, her hair dropped to frame her face and with an elegant sweep, was tucked behind her ear. "I understand, you're young. You're going to go to parties. You're going to take to the trends," Iaheru once again glanced at the dress, which was becoming, but ultimately all too inviting. "How can I help you, child? What is it that I missed?"
Neithotep jerked away when her mother’s hands came to rest on her shoulders, curling her lip in distaste. Who was she to tell her what she could and could not do? She was not a child any longer! She could wear what she wanted and go where she pleased! How dare they try and keep her caged up like some animal! She wouldn’t stand for it!
For all the bluster inside her head, Nia’s voice was small when she informed Iaheru, “I’m a woman grown, Mother. You an’ Father don’t get to choose my clothes for me anymore.” Her chin was defiant, staring down the older woman in all her trembling glory. While the young woman was certainly rebellious, she rarely displayed it so brazenly. It was only due to the substances in her system that she had the courage to do so now. A courage she might soon regret. “I wear wha’ I like ’cause I like it. I go where I want when I want. An’ I’m not going to stop!”
The more Neithotep spoke, the bolder she felt, becoming angrier even as Iaheru seemed to calm down. The woman’s attempts to level with her daughter, to relate to her own youth fell on deaf ears, Nia’s arms crossing petulantly over her chest. If she’d done the same things, as she claimed, why was she trying to stop her now? Didn’t she understand the freedom she felt? The joy? Why would she ever wish to deprive her own daughter of such things?
But when Iaheru started reprimanding her for her opium use… that was when Nia nearly lost it. Did her mother think she was utterly blind? She was often clueless and definitely naïve, but she wasn’t completely stupid. After all, she was an avid user herself. How could she not recognize the signs of it in someone else? How could she not recognize the smell of it clinging to her mother’s clothes, even as staunchly as she tried to disguise it?
“Hypocrite!” Nia suddenly shouted, her voice resonating through the vast entryway and bouncing back off the walls. Wincing, she recalled the late hour and brought down the volume, not wanting to draw the entire family out of their slumber. Dealing with just her mother was enough. She didn’t need her father and sister thrown into the mix, as well.
“How can you say all this to me, rep-reprimand me, when every one of your children knows what you do when you lock yourself away at night?” Her voice might have dropped, but it was no less furious, staggering as she took a step nearer to Iaheru. “You think we’ve ne’er seen the smoke that drifts down the hall when you think we’re all in bed? You think we’ve ne’er smelled’t on your breath or seen the haze in your eyes?” Leaning over to where her mother sat on the brim of the pool, Nia peered into her face with a squint. “Hell, you’re prob’ly high as I am right now!”
Shaking her head, Neithotep stumbled back a few steps and crossed her arms again, fingers clenching into fists. “You can help me by leaving me alone and not pretending you’re this holy, pure woman who can do no wrong. We all know the truth.” Her jaw clenched as tightly as her hands, thinking of her mother’s scandal with Sutekh. “All of Egypt knows the truth. And somehow you’re surprised you have a daughter like me?”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Neithotep jerked away when her mother’s hands came to rest on her shoulders, curling her lip in distaste. Who was she to tell her what she could and could not do? She was not a child any longer! She could wear what she wanted and go where she pleased! How dare they try and keep her caged up like some animal! She wouldn’t stand for it!
For all the bluster inside her head, Nia’s voice was small when she informed Iaheru, “I’m a woman grown, Mother. You an’ Father don’t get to choose my clothes for me anymore.” Her chin was defiant, staring down the older woman in all her trembling glory. While the young woman was certainly rebellious, she rarely displayed it so brazenly. It was only due to the substances in her system that she had the courage to do so now. A courage she might soon regret. “I wear wha’ I like ’cause I like it. I go where I want when I want. An’ I’m not going to stop!”
The more Neithotep spoke, the bolder she felt, becoming angrier even as Iaheru seemed to calm down. The woman’s attempts to level with her daughter, to relate to her own youth fell on deaf ears, Nia’s arms crossing petulantly over her chest. If she’d done the same things, as she claimed, why was she trying to stop her now? Didn’t she understand the freedom she felt? The joy? Why would she ever wish to deprive her own daughter of such things?
But when Iaheru started reprimanding her for her opium use… that was when Nia nearly lost it. Did her mother think she was utterly blind? She was often clueless and definitely naïve, but she wasn’t completely stupid. After all, she was an avid user herself. How could she not recognize the signs of it in someone else? How could she not recognize the smell of it clinging to her mother’s clothes, even as staunchly as she tried to disguise it?
“Hypocrite!” Nia suddenly shouted, her voice resonating through the vast entryway and bouncing back off the walls. Wincing, she recalled the late hour and brought down the volume, not wanting to draw the entire family out of their slumber. Dealing with just her mother was enough. She didn’t need her father and sister thrown into the mix, as well.
“How can you say all this to me, rep-reprimand me, when every one of your children knows what you do when you lock yourself away at night?” Her voice might have dropped, but it was no less furious, staggering as she took a step nearer to Iaheru. “You think we’ve ne’er seen the smoke that drifts down the hall when you think we’re all in bed? You think we’ve ne’er smelled’t on your breath or seen the haze in your eyes?” Leaning over to where her mother sat on the brim of the pool, Nia peered into her face with a squint. “Hell, you’re prob’ly high as I am right now!”
Shaking her head, Neithotep stumbled back a few steps and crossed her arms again, fingers clenching into fists. “You can help me by leaving me alone and not pretending you’re this holy, pure woman who can do no wrong. We all know the truth.” Her jaw clenched as tightly as her hands, thinking of her mother’s scandal with Sutekh. “All of Egypt knows the truth. And somehow you’re surprised you have a daughter like me?”
Neithotep jerked away when her mother’s hands came to rest on her shoulders, curling her lip in distaste. Who was she to tell her what she could and could not do? She was not a child any longer! She could wear what she wanted and go where she pleased! How dare they try and keep her caged up like some animal! She wouldn’t stand for it!
For all the bluster inside her head, Nia’s voice was small when she informed Iaheru, “I’m a woman grown, Mother. You an’ Father don’t get to choose my clothes for me anymore.” Her chin was defiant, staring down the older woman in all her trembling glory. While the young woman was certainly rebellious, she rarely displayed it so brazenly. It was only due to the substances in her system that she had the courage to do so now. A courage she might soon regret. “I wear wha’ I like ’cause I like it. I go where I want when I want. An’ I’m not going to stop!”
The more Neithotep spoke, the bolder she felt, becoming angrier even as Iaheru seemed to calm down. The woman’s attempts to level with her daughter, to relate to her own youth fell on deaf ears, Nia’s arms crossing petulantly over her chest. If she’d done the same things, as she claimed, why was she trying to stop her now? Didn’t she understand the freedom she felt? The joy? Why would she ever wish to deprive her own daughter of such things?
But when Iaheru started reprimanding her for her opium use… that was when Nia nearly lost it. Did her mother think she was utterly blind? She was often clueless and definitely naïve, but she wasn’t completely stupid. After all, she was an avid user herself. How could she not recognize the signs of it in someone else? How could she not recognize the smell of it clinging to her mother’s clothes, even as staunchly as she tried to disguise it?
“Hypocrite!” Nia suddenly shouted, her voice resonating through the vast entryway and bouncing back off the walls. Wincing, she recalled the late hour and brought down the volume, not wanting to draw the entire family out of their slumber. Dealing with just her mother was enough. She didn’t need her father and sister thrown into the mix, as well.
“How can you say all this to me, rep-reprimand me, when every one of your children knows what you do when you lock yourself away at night?” Her voice might have dropped, but it was no less furious, staggering as she took a step nearer to Iaheru. “You think we’ve ne’er seen the smoke that drifts down the hall when you think we’re all in bed? You think we’ve ne’er smelled’t on your breath or seen the haze in your eyes?” Leaning over to where her mother sat on the brim of the pool, Nia peered into her face with a squint. “Hell, you’re prob’ly high as I am right now!”
Shaking her head, Neithotep stumbled back a few steps and crossed her arms again, fingers clenching into fists. “You can help me by leaving me alone and not pretending you’re this holy, pure woman who can do no wrong. We all know the truth.” Her jaw clenched as tightly as her hands, thinking of her mother’s scandal with Sutekh. “All of Egypt knows the truth. And somehow you’re surprised you have a daughter like me?”
Perhaps if Iaheru was more temperamental, she’d hit Neithotep. Surely, the young woman deserved it for the words doused in disrespect, entitlement, and inexperience towards her mother. It would be the first time Iaheru would ever hit her children and tonight, she decided, was not the night for new things.
Yes, her daughter’s defiance stung. Iaheru wondered if her own reputation had not suffered if her daughter would dare to speak to her in such manner. Soaking in the words, hurled with such vitriol, yet so much truth, Iaheru drummed her fingers on her leg. After a long pause, characteristic of Iaheru as she mulled over her thoughts to make intentional impact, she parted her mouth and recited the words she had all night to mull over. “You have not had to rise as I have and it shows.”
“I was born to parents that could provide and not much more,” Iaheru glossed over the parties, the occasional servant, the lessons. It was a fair comparison to Neithotep’s life, demarcated by luxury and pomp. Even the privilege of flaying your mother with words was one that Iaheru was not afforded, her father quick to smack her mouth should her meticulous nature betray her. It only happened twice in her entire life. “And you come into my house, call me a hypocrite, and say you’re going to do what you wish while you eat at my hand? While you sleep in my bed?”
“Remind yourself who it was that gave you this life Neithotep." Iaheru stands, folding her arms across her chest, eyes that normally swept across the room intensely staring at her daughter. “And before you say your father, remind yourself that it was your father that threw Sutekh from this very home,” Iaheru took a deep breath in through her nose before she continued, “Remind yourself how much he loved Sutekh before he threw him to the street with nothing. Sutekh was banished for far less than what you have done tonight.”
“And yes,” Iaheru’s voice narrows to a hiss, “I do smoke opium, but unlike you, I can handle myself with decorum instead of presenting myself like a shuffling slop.” Iaheru’s voice is laced with fire, her tolerance waning for her daughter that could not, or simply refused, to think about what she said. “I have some amount of control over my impulses, something that would suit you well."
"Of everyone in Egypt that knows the detriment of but a single moment, who knows what the cost of being in the wrong place at the wrong time is... It is me and your brother Sutekh, Neithotep."
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Perhaps if Iaheru was more temperamental, she’d hit Neithotep. Surely, the young woman deserved it for the words doused in disrespect, entitlement, and inexperience towards her mother. It would be the first time Iaheru would ever hit her children and tonight, she decided, was not the night for new things.
Yes, her daughter’s defiance stung. Iaheru wondered if her own reputation had not suffered if her daughter would dare to speak to her in such manner. Soaking in the words, hurled with such vitriol, yet so much truth, Iaheru drummed her fingers on her leg. After a long pause, characteristic of Iaheru as she mulled over her thoughts to make intentional impact, she parted her mouth and recited the words she had all night to mull over. “You have not had to rise as I have and it shows.”
“I was born to parents that could provide and not much more,” Iaheru glossed over the parties, the occasional servant, the lessons. It was a fair comparison to Neithotep’s life, demarcated by luxury and pomp. Even the privilege of flaying your mother with words was one that Iaheru was not afforded, her father quick to smack her mouth should her meticulous nature betray her. It only happened twice in her entire life. “And you come into my house, call me a hypocrite, and say you’re going to do what you wish while you eat at my hand? While you sleep in my bed?”
“Remind yourself who it was that gave you this life Neithotep." Iaheru stands, folding her arms across her chest, eyes that normally swept across the room intensely staring at her daughter. “And before you say your father, remind yourself that it was your father that threw Sutekh from this very home,” Iaheru took a deep breath in through her nose before she continued, “Remind yourself how much he loved Sutekh before he threw him to the street with nothing. Sutekh was banished for far less than what you have done tonight.”
“And yes,” Iaheru’s voice narrows to a hiss, “I do smoke opium, but unlike you, I can handle myself with decorum instead of presenting myself like a shuffling slop.” Iaheru’s voice is laced with fire, her tolerance waning for her daughter that could not, or simply refused, to think about what she said. “I have some amount of control over my impulses, something that would suit you well."
"Of everyone in Egypt that knows the detriment of but a single moment, who knows what the cost of being in the wrong place at the wrong time is... It is me and your brother Sutekh, Neithotep."
Perhaps if Iaheru was more temperamental, she’d hit Neithotep. Surely, the young woman deserved it for the words doused in disrespect, entitlement, and inexperience towards her mother. It would be the first time Iaheru would ever hit her children and tonight, she decided, was not the night for new things.
Yes, her daughter’s defiance stung. Iaheru wondered if her own reputation had not suffered if her daughter would dare to speak to her in such manner. Soaking in the words, hurled with such vitriol, yet so much truth, Iaheru drummed her fingers on her leg. After a long pause, characteristic of Iaheru as she mulled over her thoughts to make intentional impact, she parted her mouth and recited the words she had all night to mull over. “You have not had to rise as I have and it shows.”
“I was born to parents that could provide and not much more,” Iaheru glossed over the parties, the occasional servant, the lessons. It was a fair comparison to Neithotep’s life, demarcated by luxury and pomp. Even the privilege of flaying your mother with words was one that Iaheru was not afforded, her father quick to smack her mouth should her meticulous nature betray her. It only happened twice in her entire life. “And you come into my house, call me a hypocrite, and say you’re going to do what you wish while you eat at my hand? While you sleep in my bed?”
“Remind yourself who it was that gave you this life Neithotep." Iaheru stands, folding her arms across her chest, eyes that normally swept across the room intensely staring at her daughter. “And before you say your father, remind yourself that it was your father that threw Sutekh from this very home,” Iaheru took a deep breath in through her nose before she continued, “Remind yourself how much he loved Sutekh before he threw him to the street with nothing. Sutekh was banished for far less than what you have done tonight.”
“And yes,” Iaheru’s voice narrows to a hiss, “I do smoke opium, but unlike you, I can handle myself with decorum instead of presenting myself like a shuffling slop.” Iaheru’s voice is laced with fire, her tolerance waning for her daughter that could not, or simply refused, to think about what she said. “I have some amount of control over my impulses, something that would suit you well."
"Of everyone in Egypt that knows the detriment of but a single moment, who knows what the cost of being in the wrong place at the wrong time is... It is me and your brother Sutekh, Neithotep."
She knew her mother wasn’t entirely wrong, but full of righteous (at least to her) defiance and offended pride, Neithotep couldn’t bring herself to agree with her. The middle daughter had never truly hated her mother, just chafed at her rules, but intoxicated as she was, all she wanted to do was hurt her. She couldn’t see past Iaheru wanting to control her, couldn’t see any of the concern that might underlie her words. All she could see was her mother standing in her way and trying to deprive her of the only things she truly wanted in life. She hadn’t asked to be noble! She hadn’t asked for the life she had, the one that her mother was so intent on hurling back in her face. All she wanted was to live her own life and make her own choices. Was that truly so much to ask for?
“I don’t want t’ rise,” Nia retorted in a petulant tone. “I don’t want your house or your bed, or your food! Don’t you understand? I don’t want t’ be some prop-proper lady, doomed to be sold t’ th’ highest bidder. I just want to live, Mother! Or has it’s been so long for you that you’ve forgotten how?”
Her face was flushed from wine and anger alike, scoffing as Iaheru continued to speak. Ah, yes, her father threw Sutekh on the streets with nothing. Her brother was suddenly a prince due to her mother’s “misfortune,” and Nia was supposed to feel sorry for them? Not likely.
“Ah, yes, poor you. Poor Sutekh. The poor, poor brother banished to live in the Palace of the Pharaoh, and you, the woman who birthed him. What a horrible struggle you’ve both had, isn’t it?” Nia shook her head, her jaw clenched. “You always loved him more than th’ rest o’ us, an’ you know it. That’s what all this is really about. Your favorite child is gone onto better things an’ now you’re just stuck with us. An’ it’s jus’ killing you, isn’t it?”
Neithotep couldn’t seem to stop herself, even as she knew the slurred words tumbling out of her mouth would be ones she’d regret in the morning. If not sooner. “You can’t control him anymore, so you have t’ control us. A year ago, you wouldn’t have cared about me coming home late, smelling of wine an’ opium. I did it then just as much as I do it now, but y’ hardly said a word. Now, all o’ a sudden, you’re all worried? Asking how you can help me? Reminding me o’ your own mistakes, trying to relate t’ me like we’re anything alike? You aren’t fooling me, Mother. You aren’t fooling any o’ us.”
There was more she could have said, more she wanted to say, but the look on Iaheru’s face told her how much she was pushing her luck already. “Why don’t you focus on Nef an’ Nenet instead? You might actually get a proper lady out o’ one o’ them.”
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She knew her mother wasn’t entirely wrong, but full of righteous (at least to her) defiance and offended pride, Neithotep couldn’t bring herself to agree with her. The middle daughter had never truly hated her mother, just chafed at her rules, but intoxicated as she was, all she wanted to do was hurt her. She couldn’t see past Iaheru wanting to control her, couldn’t see any of the concern that might underlie her words. All she could see was her mother standing in her way and trying to deprive her of the only things she truly wanted in life. She hadn’t asked to be noble! She hadn’t asked for the life she had, the one that her mother was so intent on hurling back in her face. All she wanted was to live her own life and make her own choices. Was that truly so much to ask for?
“I don’t want t’ rise,” Nia retorted in a petulant tone. “I don’t want your house or your bed, or your food! Don’t you understand? I don’t want t’ be some prop-proper lady, doomed to be sold t’ th’ highest bidder. I just want to live, Mother! Or has it’s been so long for you that you’ve forgotten how?”
Her face was flushed from wine and anger alike, scoffing as Iaheru continued to speak. Ah, yes, her father threw Sutekh on the streets with nothing. Her brother was suddenly a prince due to her mother’s “misfortune,” and Nia was supposed to feel sorry for them? Not likely.
“Ah, yes, poor you. Poor Sutekh. The poor, poor brother banished to live in the Palace of the Pharaoh, and you, the woman who birthed him. What a horrible struggle you’ve both had, isn’t it?” Nia shook her head, her jaw clenched. “You always loved him more than th’ rest o’ us, an’ you know it. That’s what all this is really about. Your favorite child is gone onto better things an’ now you’re just stuck with us. An’ it’s jus’ killing you, isn’t it?”
Neithotep couldn’t seem to stop herself, even as she knew the slurred words tumbling out of her mouth would be ones she’d regret in the morning. If not sooner. “You can’t control him anymore, so you have t’ control us. A year ago, you wouldn’t have cared about me coming home late, smelling of wine an’ opium. I did it then just as much as I do it now, but y’ hardly said a word. Now, all o’ a sudden, you’re all worried? Asking how you can help me? Reminding me o’ your own mistakes, trying to relate t’ me like we’re anything alike? You aren’t fooling me, Mother. You aren’t fooling any o’ us.”
There was more she could have said, more she wanted to say, but the look on Iaheru’s face told her how much she was pushing her luck already. “Why don’t you focus on Nef an’ Nenet instead? You might actually get a proper lady out o’ one o’ them.”
She knew her mother wasn’t entirely wrong, but full of righteous (at least to her) defiance and offended pride, Neithotep couldn’t bring herself to agree with her. The middle daughter had never truly hated her mother, just chafed at her rules, but intoxicated as she was, all she wanted to do was hurt her. She couldn’t see past Iaheru wanting to control her, couldn’t see any of the concern that might underlie her words. All she could see was her mother standing in her way and trying to deprive her of the only things she truly wanted in life. She hadn’t asked to be noble! She hadn’t asked for the life she had, the one that her mother was so intent on hurling back in her face. All she wanted was to live her own life and make her own choices. Was that truly so much to ask for?
“I don’t want t’ rise,” Nia retorted in a petulant tone. “I don’t want your house or your bed, or your food! Don’t you understand? I don’t want t’ be some prop-proper lady, doomed to be sold t’ th’ highest bidder. I just want to live, Mother! Or has it’s been so long for you that you’ve forgotten how?”
Her face was flushed from wine and anger alike, scoffing as Iaheru continued to speak. Ah, yes, her father threw Sutekh on the streets with nothing. Her brother was suddenly a prince due to her mother’s “misfortune,” and Nia was supposed to feel sorry for them? Not likely.
“Ah, yes, poor you. Poor Sutekh. The poor, poor brother banished to live in the Palace of the Pharaoh, and you, the woman who birthed him. What a horrible struggle you’ve both had, isn’t it?” Nia shook her head, her jaw clenched. “You always loved him more than th’ rest o’ us, an’ you know it. That’s what all this is really about. Your favorite child is gone onto better things an’ now you’re just stuck with us. An’ it’s jus’ killing you, isn’t it?”
Neithotep couldn’t seem to stop herself, even as she knew the slurred words tumbling out of her mouth would be ones she’d regret in the morning. If not sooner. “You can’t control him anymore, so you have t’ control us. A year ago, you wouldn’t have cared about me coming home late, smelling of wine an’ opium. I did it then just as much as I do it now, but y’ hardly said a word. Now, all o’ a sudden, you’re all worried? Asking how you can help me? Reminding me o’ your own mistakes, trying to relate t’ me like we’re anything alike? You aren’t fooling me, Mother. You aren’t fooling any o’ us.”
There was more she could have said, more she wanted to say, but the look on Iaheru’s face told her how much she was pushing her luck already. “Why don’t you focus on Nef an’ Nenet instead? You might actually get a proper lady out o’ one o’ them.”
Pehaps it was her courtly training or her nature, but Iaheru regarded the venom her daughter spat in a maddening stoicism. Neithotep had not inherited her coolness and instead raged like an oily rag thrown onto flames. Neithotep wasn’t wrong, but how she delivered her truth was inherently disqualifying. Iaheru couldn’t understand how Neithotep could be so foreign to her, how even when she’d hold Neithotep the child would want to be somewhere else. Do something different. Be freer, less constrained.
There was an instinct to give Neithotep what she wanted, to throw the woman outside in the chill of the evening with but a gold piece and silk network dress to her name. “It was different several years ago, Neithotep,” Iaheru pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes fixed on the intersections of marble tile piped with copper. “You were younger. I could tolerate wildness for a time. The Judeans have a saying, that when we grow older, we put away childish things and you have not progressed by even Egyptian standards.”
“We were the preeminent Hei in Egypt, but that is no longer. We aren’t as safe as we used to be.” Iaheru continues, her countenance falling from stringent calculation to a rare half-state that resembled empathy. Gone in but a moment when she retorts:
“You say that you never wanted this life, that you never wanted to be a proper lady and live in luxury, but yet here you are, Neithotep. You wear the finest dresses, smoke the purest opium, feast on the best Greek wines, and you still have the nerve to think that you’re better than this and that you, you who has lived in the most preeminent Hei in Egypt, could last a day on the docks? A day laboring in an inn? A day cleaning up piss and vomit in taverns? You sleep until well past noon. You’ve had a retainer since the day of your birth, and that was a mistake.”
Iaheru's continued release surmounts, the frustrations of several months laid on her daughter, if for Iaheru’s own relief. “You drag your brother’s name but he does suffer. He misses you immensely.” Iaheru fought back a lump in her throat, “He would give anything to be with his family, to protect you and your sisters. Anything. And yet here you are, cutting into a man that has done nothing but love you. Looking away like your father does. You’re both cowards.”
Iaheru crossed her arms, unable to understand what she was missing, what she was supposed to do. Throw her daughter to the streets? Marry her off? Send her to Greece? Obviously Iaheru could not reason with her daughter, two puffs away from a convulsed, foaming death on the floor of the Hei. This prompted Iaheru to retreat to a bronze pitcher beaded with sweat, pouring a glass for Neithotep to soothe what Iaheru could only imagine was desert mouth. She offered the vessel to her daughter, a steady hand betraying the whirlwind of emotion trembling throughout Iaheru's core.
“If you really were above the pomp of the court, if you really believed in your consequence-free hedonism, you wouldn’t look away from Sutekh the way you do. You are no better. You’re a hypocrite.”
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Pehaps it was her courtly training or her nature, but Iaheru regarded the venom her daughter spat in a maddening stoicism. Neithotep had not inherited her coolness and instead raged like an oily rag thrown onto flames. Neithotep wasn’t wrong, but how she delivered her truth was inherently disqualifying. Iaheru couldn’t understand how Neithotep could be so foreign to her, how even when she’d hold Neithotep the child would want to be somewhere else. Do something different. Be freer, less constrained.
There was an instinct to give Neithotep what she wanted, to throw the woman outside in the chill of the evening with but a gold piece and silk network dress to her name. “It was different several years ago, Neithotep,” Iaheru pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes fixed on the intersections of marble tile piped with copper. “You were younger. I could tolerate wildness for a time. The Judeans have a saying, that when we grow older, we put away childish things and you have not progressed by even Egyptian standards.”
“We were the preeminent Hei in Egypt, but that is no longer. We aren’t as safe as we used to be.” Iaheru continues, her countenance falling from stringent calculation to a rare half-state that resembled empathy. Gone in but a moment when she retorts:
“You say that you never wanted this life, that you never wanted to be a proper lady and live in luxury, but yet here you are, Neithotep. You wear the finest dresses, smoke the purest opium, feast on the best Greek wines, and you still have the nerve to think that you’re better than this and that you, you who has lived in the most preeminent Hei in Egypt, could last a day on the docks? A day laboring in an inn? A day cleaning up piss and vomit in taverns? You sleep until well past noon. You’ve had a retainer since the day of your birth, and that was a mistake.”
Iaheru's continued release surmounts, the frustrations of several months laid on her daughter, if for Iaheru’s own relief. “You drag your brother’s name but he does suffer. He misses you immensely.” Iaheru fought back a lump in her throat, “He would give anything to be with his family, to protect you and your sisters. Anything. And yet here you are, cutting into a man that has done nothing but love you. Looking away like your father does. You’re both cowards.”
Iaheru crossed her arms, unable to understand what she was missing, what she was supposed to do. Throw her daughter to the streets? Marry her off? Send her to Greece? Obviously Iaheru could not reason with her daughter, two puffs away from a convulsed, foaming death on the floor of the Hei. This prompted Iaheru to retreat to a bronze pitcher beaded with sweat, pouring a glass for Neithotep to soothe what Iaheru could only imagine was desert mouth. She offered the vessel to her daughter, a steady hand betraying the whirlwind of emotion trembling throughout Iaheru's core.
“If you really were above the pomp of the court, if you really believed in your consequence-free hedonism, you wouldn’t look away from Sutekh the way you do. You are no better. You’re a hypocrite.”
Pehaps it was her courtly training or her nature, but Iaheru regarded the venom her daughter spat in a maddening stoicism. Neithotep had not inherited her coolness and instead raged like an oily rag thrown onto flames. Neithotep wasn’t wrong, but how she delivered her truth was inherently disqualifying. Iaheru couldn’t understand how Neithotep could be so foreign to her, how even when she’d hold Neithotep the child would want to be somewhere else. Do something different. Be freer, less constrained.
There was an instinct to give Neithotep what she wanted, to throw the woman outside in the chill of the evening with but a gold piece and silk network dress to her name. “It was different several years ago, Neithotep,” Iaheru pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes fixed on the intersections of marble tile piped with copper. “You were younger. I could tolerate wildness for a time. The Judeans have a saying, that when we grow older, we put away childish things and you have not progressed by even Egyptian standards.”
“We were the preeminent Hei in Egypt, but that is no longer. We aren’t as safe as we used to be.” Iaheru continues, her countenance falling from stringent calculation to a rare half-state that resembled empathy. Gone in but a moment when she retorts:
“You say that you never wanted this life, that you never wanted to be a proper lady and live in luxury, but yet here you are, Neithotep. You wear the finest dresses, smoke the purest opium, feast on the best Greek wines, and you still have the nerve to think that you’re better than this and that you, you who has lived in the most preeminent Hei in Egypt, could last a day on the docks? A day laboring in an inn? A day cleaning up piss and vomit in taverns? You sleep until well past noon. You’ve had a retainer since the day of your birth, and that was a mistake.”
Iaheru's continued release surmounts, the frustrations of several months laid on her daughter, if for Iaheru’s own relief. “You drag your brother’s name but he does suffer. He misses you immensely.” Iaheru fought back a lump in her throat, “He would give anything to be with his family, to protect you and your sisters. Anything. And yet here you are, cutting into a man that has done nothing but love you. Looking away like your father does. You’re both cowards.”
Iaheru crossed her arms, unable to understand what she was missing, what she was supposed to do. Throw her daughter to the streets? Marry her off? Send her to Greece? Obviously Iaheru could not reason with her daughter, two puffs away from a convulsed, foaming death on the floor of the Hei. This prompted Iaheru to retreat to a bronze pitcher beaded with sweat, pouring a glass for Neithotep to soothe what Iaheru could only imagine was desert mouth. She offered the vessel to her daughter, a steady hand betraying the whirlwind of emotion trembling throughout Iaheru's core.
“If you really were above the pomp of the court, if you really believed in your consequence-free hedonism, you wouldn’t look away from Sutekh the way you do. You are no better. You’re a hypocrite.”
Iaheru’s maddening stoicism in the face of Nia’s rage was even more infuriating, the woman’s jaw clenching as her mother refused to rise to the bait. Ranting at her was hardly gratifying when she barely responded, not even raising the tone of her voice. Portraying herself as the epitome of grace, composed and elegant in comparison to her daughter’s raving. It took the fight right out of her, just as she was sure her mother had been expecting.
She lowered her gaze as the woman continued to speak, guilt twinging in her heart. The truth was, Neithotep missed Sutekh, too. She’d always been closer to her brothers than her sisters, even if her ties to Sutekh weren’t as strong as the ones to Akhenaten. The day Sutekh had been banished had been hard on them all, even Nia. She wasn’t sure why she was directing so much of her anger his way, when it was truly centered on her mother. Perhaps it was just jealousy. Jealousy that he got to leave this house for something better while she was stuck here and suddenly under her mother’s previously absent scrutiny.
When Iaheru offered the water her way, Nia thought about refusing it just to spite her, but her lips were cracked and her tongue felt like dust in her mouth. She eyed the golden vessel already beading with sweat for but a moment before she snatched it from her mother’s hand, downing it in only three swallows. She took a deep breath and shakily released it before handing the empty cup back to Iaheru.
Her mother’s speech stung, more so because there was so much truth in it. Iaheru might not be the fiery mess her daughter was, but ice could sting as much as flame. She knew precisely where to find the weak points, what exactly she could crack. Exhausted as she was and already at her limit, Nia couldn’t think of a comeback, at least not one that wouldn’t get her thrown on the streets as she’d so casually alluded that she might want. Iaheru was right, of course, that Neithotep could never survive doing actual hard labor. The girl wasn’t bred to it, and as much as she resented her parents, she knew she needed them. It was best to let it go before she ended up talking herself into a hole she couldn’t get back out of.
Hypocrite, indeed, but she was a product of her roots.
Her eyes flashed briefly in her mother’s direction before Nia looked back down, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself in check. After a tense moment, she finally asked through gritted teeth, “Is that all, then? May I be excused now?”
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Iaheru’s maddening stoicism in the face of Nia’s rage was even more infuriating, the woman’s jaw clenching as her mother refused to rise to the bait. Ranting at her was hardly gratifying when she barely responded, not even raising the tone of her voice. Portraying herself as the epitome of grace, composed and elegant in comparison to her daughter’s raving. It took the fight right out of her, just as she was sure her mother had been expecting.
She lowered her gaze as the woman continued to speak, guilt twinging in her heart. The truth was, Neithotep missed Sutekh, too. She’d always been closer to her brothers than her sisters, even if her ties to Sutekh weren’t as strong as the ones to Akhenaten. The day Sutekh had been banished had been hard on them all, even Nia. She wasn’t sure why she was directing so much of her anger his way, when it was truly centered on her mother. Perhaps it was just jealousy. Jealousy that he got to leave this house for something better while she was stuck here and suddenly under her mother’s previously absent scrutiny.
When Iaheru offered the water her way, Nia thought about refusing it just to spite her, but her lips were cracked and her tongue felt like dust in her mouth. She eyed the golden vessel already beading with sweat for but a moment before she snatched it from her mother’s hand, downing it in only three swallows. She took a deep breath and shakily released it before handing the empty cup back to Iaheru.
Her mother’s speech stung, more so because there was so much truth in it. Iaheru might not be the fiery mess her daughter was, but ice could sting as much as flame. She knew precisely where to find the weak points, what exactly she could crack. Exhausted as she was and already at her limit, Nia couldn’t think of a comeback, at least not one that wouldn’t get her thrown on the streets as she’d so casually alluded that she might want. Iaheru was right, of course, that Neithotep could never survive doing actual hard labor. The girl wasn’t bred to it, and as much as she resented her parents, she knew she needed them. It was best to let it go before she ended up talking herself into a hole she couldn’t get back out of.
Hypocrite, indeed, but she was a product of her roots.
Her eyes flashed briefly in her mother’s direction before Nia looked back down, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself in check. After a tense moment, she finally asked through gritted teeth, “Is that all, then? May I be excused now?”
Iaheru’s maddening stoicism in the face of Nia’s rage was even more infuriating, the woman’s jaw clenching as her mother refused to rise to the bait. Ranting at her was hardly gratifying when she barely responded, not even raising the tone of her voice. Portraying herself as the epitome of grace, composed and elegant in comparison to her daughter’s raving. It took the fight right out of her, just as she was sure her mother had been expecting.
She lowered her gaze as the woman continued to speak, guilt twinging in her heart. The truth was, Neithotep missed Sutekh, too. She’d always been closer to her brothers than her sisters, even if her ties to Sutekh weren’t as strong as the ones to Akhenaten. The day Sutekh had been banished had been hard on them all, even Nia. She wasn’t sure why she was directing so much of her anger his way, when it was truly centered on her mother. Perhaps it was just jealousy. Jealousy that he got to leave this house for something better while she was stuck here and suddenly under her mother’s previously absent scrutiny.
When Iaheru offered the water her way, Nia thought about refusing it just to spite her, but her lips were cracked and her tongue felt like dust in her mouth. She eyed the golden vessel already beading with sweat for but a moment before she snatched it from her mother’s hand, downing it in only three swallows. She took a deep breath and shakily released it before handing the empty cup back to Iaheru.
Her mother’s speech stung, more so because there was so much truth in it. Iaheru might not be the fiery mess her daughter was, but ice could sting as much as flame. She knew precisely where to find the weak points, what exactly she could crack. Exhausted as she was and already at her limit, Nia couldn’t think of a comeback, at least not one that wouldn’t get her thrown on the streets as she’d so casually alluded that she might want. Iaheru was right, of course, that Neithotep could never survive doing actual hard labor. The girl wasn’t bred to it, and as much as she resented her parents, she knew she needed them. It was best to let it go before she ended up talking herself into a hole she couldn’t get back out of.
Hypocrite, indeed, but she was a product of her roots.
Her eyes flashed briefly in her mother’s direction before Nia looked back down, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself in check. After a tense moment, she finally asked through gritted teeth, “Is that all, then? May I be excused now?”
The blase answer softened Iaheru’s tightened features. The water brought her daughter relief and in lieu of mutual understanding, the momentary expression of care would have to fulfill Iaheru. Not many things fulfilled her in the present. “You may,” Iaheru returns her daughter’s curtness.
“But you ought to know how to dust the opium on your nose,” Iaheru takes the cup into her hand, thumb running along a copper rim. Manicured hands grasp a gilded, carved knob, creaking open a drawer in a long, bone inlay, hallway table. Into steady hands Iaheru removes a copper plate. Adorned with motif of palm fronds, engravings dusted with collected ash, Iaheru taps out a small thimble of opium. She takes a hollowed reed and cuts the white powder into a thin line, showing Nia quick, precise movement.
“You take this,” Iaheru holds a small copper fixing pipe from the plate, placing her nose level with the table. Knees prone to swelling hit the cold marble floor, joints popping and displacing her stance. “And you inhale,” Iaheru then moves to demonstrate, closing the opposite nostril. The quick burn dissipates with the moistening of her nose. A moan emanates from her chest.
Her voice hadn’t always been as nasal, but now Nia knew why her mother had a distinct congestion about her. The numbness spreads to her mouth, her neck, loosening her limbs as she rises relaxed. “You don’t need as much this way,” Iaheru daintly scratches at her nose, then turning to fill Nia’s cup.
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The blase answer softened Iaheru’s tightened features. The water brought her daughter relief and in lieu of mutual understanding, the momentary expression of care would have to fulfill Iaheru. Not many things fulfilled her in the present. “You may,” Iaheru returns her daughter’s curtness.
“But you ought to know how to dust the opium on your nose,” Iaheru takes the cup into her hand, thumb running along a copper rim. Manicured hands grasp a gilded, carved knob, creaking open a drawer in a long, bone inlay, hallway table. Into steady hands Iaheru removes a copper plate. Adorned with motif of palm fronds, engravings dusted with collected ash, Iaheru taps out a small thimble of opium. She takes a hollowed reed and cuts the white powder into a thin line, showing Nia quick, precise movement.
“You take this,” Iaheru holds a small copper fixing pipe from the plate, placing her nose level with the table. Knees prone to swelling hit the cold marble floor, joints popping and displacing her stance. “And you inhale,” Iaheru then moves to demonstrate, closing the opposite nostril. The quick burn dissipates with the moistening of her nose. A moan emanates from her chest.
Her voice hadn’t always been as nasal, but now Nia knew why her mother had a distinct congestion about her. The numbness spreads to her mouth, her neck, loosening her limbs as she rises relaxed. “You don’t need as much this way,” Iaheru daintly scratches at her nose, then turning to fill Nia’s cup.
The blase answer softened Iaheru’s tightened features. The water brought her daughter relief and in lieu of mutual understanding, the momentary expression of care would have to fulfill Iaheru. Not many things fulfilled her in the present. “You may,” Iaheru returns her daughter’s curtness.
“But you ought to know how to dust the opium on your nose,” Iaheru takes the cup into her hand, thumb running along a copper rim. Manicured hands grasp a gilded, carved knob, creaking open a drawer in a long, bone inlay, hallway table. Into steady hands Iaheru removes a copper plate. Adorned with motif of palm fronds, engravings dusted with collected ash, Iaheru taps out a small thimble of opium. She takes a hollowed reed and cuts the white powder into a thin line, showing Nia quick, precise movement.
“You take this,” Iaheru holds a small copper fixing pipe from the plate, placing her nose level with the table. Knees prone to swelling hit the cold marble floor, joints popping and displacing her stance. “And you inhale,” Iaheru then moves to demonstrate, closing the opposite nostril. The quick burn dissipates with the moistening of her nose. A moan emanates from her chest.
Her voice hadn’t always been as nasal, but now Nia knew why her mother had a distinct congestion about her. The numbness spreads to her mouth, her neck, loosening her limbs as she rises relaxed. “You don’t need as much this way,” Iaheru daintly scratches at her nose, then turning to fill Nia’s cup.
There was no hiding the look of dumb shock on Nia’s face when her mother opened the drawer and pulled out the tray, watching wide-eyed and silent as Iaheru snorted the powder up her nose. Was this really happening? Was she just stuck in a poppy dream? Such a sight seemed too bizarre to be real, her eyes following Iaheru as she sunk to the floor and remaining fixed on her as the high took its hold. Blinking rapidly to clear her vision and pinching lightly at her arm, she verified with herself that it was indeed real. But… ‘unexpected’ couldn’t even begin to cover it.
After a few moments of stunned quiet where she stumbled over what she could possibly say, Nia finally spoke, “I’ve… I’ve snorted it before. It just… it hurts. I like the smoke better. And it tastes nice.” Regardless of the pain she’d just professed and her insistence at her own preference, the girl thought about trying to repeat Iaheru’s demonstration, longingly staring at the tray for a minute before shaking her head. No. She’d indulged enough that evening already, and with more than just opium. When she went to bed tonight, she still wanted to wake up in the morning.
“Why are you… why are you showing me this?” Neithotep couldn’t help but ask, absently accepting her refilled cup and bringing it back to her lips. It was hard to believe her own mother had just snorted a line of opium right in front of her, and part of her even wanted to laugh. Had Iaheru finally realized the lessons and lectures she’d tried to impart on her wild daughter weren’t going to work? Was this her way of trying to teach her something that might actually stick? When she thought of her mother trying to teach the same lesson to Nefertaari or Nenet, she actually did laugh, unable to contain her mirth at the thought of the looks on her sisters’ faces. What she wouldn’t give to see it…
Such wholesome motherly bonding, she thought wryly after she finally choked back the rest of her laughter, taking a blissful swallow of the crisp water and letting it slowly drip down her dried-out throat. What a strange family we are.
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There was no hiding the look of dumb shock on Nia’s face when her mother opened the drawer and pulled out the tray, watching wide-eyed and silent as Iaheru snorted the powder up her nose. Was this really happening? Was she just stuck in a poppy dream? Such a sight seemed too bizarre to be real, her eyes following Iaheru as she sunk to the floor and remaining fixed on her as the high took its hold. Blinking rapidly to clear her vision and pinching lightly at her arm, she verified with herself that it was indeed real. But… ‘unexpected’ couldn’t even begin to cover it.
After a few moments of stunned quiet where she stumbled over what she could possibly say, Nia finally spoke, “I’ve… I’ve snorted it before. It just… it hurts. I like the smoke better. And it tastes nice.” Regardless of the pain she’d just professed and her insistence at her own preference, the girl thought about trying to repeat Iaheru’s demonstration, longingly staring at the tray for a minute before shaking her head. No. She’d indulged enough that evening already, and with more than just opium. When she went to bed tonight, she still wanted to wake up in the morning.
“Why are you… why are you showing me this?” Neithotep couldn’t help but ask, absently accepting her refilled cup and bringing it back to her lips. It was hard to believe her own mother had just snorted a line of opium right in front of her, and part of her even wanted to laugh. Had Iaheru finally realized the lessons and lectures she’d tried to impart on her wild daughter weren’t going to work? Was this her way of trying to teach her something that might actually stick? When she thought of her mother trying to teach the same lesson to Nefertaari or Nenet, she actually did laugh, unable to contain her mirth at the thought of the looks on her sisters’ faces. What she wouldn’t give to see it…
Such wholesome motherly bonding, she thought wryly after she finally choked back the rest of her laughter, taking a blissful swallow of the crisp water and letting it slowly drip down her dried-out throat. What a strange family we are.
There was no hiding the look of dumb shock on Nia’s face when her mother opened the drawer and pulled out the tray, watching wide-eyed and silent as Iaheru snorted the powder up her nose. Was this really happening? Was she just stuck in a poppy dream? Such a sight seemed too bizarre to be real, her eyes following Iaheru as she sunk to the floor and remaining fixed on her as the high took its hold. Blinking rapidly to clear her vision and pinching lightly at her arm, she verified with herself that it was indeed real. But… ‘unexpected’ couldn’t even begin to cover it.
After a few moments of stunned quiet where she stumbled over what she could possibly say, Nia finally spoke, “I’ve… I’ve snorted it before. It just… it hurts. I like the smoke better. And it tastes nice.” Regardless of the pain she’d just professed and her insistence at her own preference, the girl thought about trying to repeat Iaheru’s demonstration, longingly staring at the tray for a minute before shaking her head. No. She’d indulged enough that evening already, and with more than just opium. When she went to bed tonight, she still wanted to wake up in the morning.
“Why are you… why are you showing me this?” Neithotep couldn’t help but ask, absently accepting her refilled cup and bringing it back to her lips. It was hard to believe her own mother had just snorted a line of opium right in front of her, and part of her even wanted to laugh. Had Iaheru finally realized the lessons and lectures she’d tried to impart on her wild daughter weren’t going to work? Was this her way of trying to teach her something that might actually stick? When she thought of her mother trying to teach the same lesson to Nefertaari or Nenet, she actually did laugh, unable to contain her mirth at the thought of the looks on her sisters’ faces. What she wouldn’t give to see it…
Such wholesome motherly bonding, she thought wryly after she finally choked back the rest of her laughter, taking a blissful swallow of the crisp water and letting it slowly drip down her dried-out throat. What a strange family we are.
Iaheru was far too numb to respond immediately to Neithotep, the warm blotches of purple bled into yellows and oranges, the patterns infiltrated her peripheral vision with a gradient aura. The stress she held in her shoulders melted. Her nose jutted in the air proudly as she returned the tray of tools to its place within the confines of bone inlay. Urges to sneeze are thwarted by mere willpower to evade the overwhelming burden of her husband's coldness, her son's distance, and her own isolation from those who would turn their gaze away from her.
After all, it was Egypt. She couldn't reconcile the hedonistic pleasures of the kingdom and her own shunning by that same standard. Why was it that she had suffered such a fall from grace within the court? Was it because of Sutekh's royal blood? Was it because she lied for so long?
She felt no remorse for lying. No, Iaheru was quite pleased that she had lied for so long to protect Sutekh. If she hadn't lied and the truth emerged while the Pharaoh lived, Iaheru shuddered at the estimations of Isetheperu's rage.
But she's brought back by Neithotep's laughter before her ruminations could compound. And even Iaheru mustered a small laugh, realizing that this momentary lapse in her obsessive nature seemed to be more endearing to Neithotep than lectures and mandates. "Insufflation is more easily controlled," Iaheru explained, pouring herself her own cup of water and sipping politely as she meandered about incoherent thoughts. "Unlike smoking, insufflation doesn't take as long to kick in so you're less likely to overindulge."
After a silent pause, Iaheru exhaled, "I expect to see you tomorrow morning." She began to walk away before turning back to say, "I love you, Nia." Her voice cracked with dryness. The words were not said often, and for but a moment in her numbed, analgesic state, they were felt intensely. Beneath obsession, beneath Iaheru's quest for redemption was the love of her children that manifested in the maintenance of their image. The blood of her blood ran through her children, especially her daughters, strongly and when her children bled, she also bled. Their hearts beat the same in jagged formations between strong lungs, faltering in this moment in the Hei's history because of a single night. A single touch. And it was this paranoia of a single misstep that tortured Iaheru and dusted her nose with opium at night.
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Iaheru was far too numb to respond immediately to Neithotep, the warm blotches of purple bled into yellows and oranges, the patterns infiltrated her peripheral vision with a gradient aura. The stress she held in her shoulders melted. Her nose jutted in the air proudly as she returned the tray of tools to its place within the confines of bone inlay. Urges to sneeze are thwarted by mere willpower to evade the overwhelming burden of her husband's coldness, her son's distance, and her own isolation from those who would turn their gaze away from her.
After all, it was Egypt. She couldn't reconcile the hedonistic pleasures of the kingdom and her own shunning by that same standard. Why was it that she had suffered such a fall from grace within the court? Was it because of Sutekh's royal blood? Was it because she lied for so long?
She felt no remorse for lying. No, Iaheru was quite pleased that she had lied for so long to protect Sutekh. If she hadn't lied and the truth emerged while the Pharaoh lived, Iaheru shuddered at the estimations of Isetheperu's rage.
But she's brought back by Neithotep's laughter before her ruminations could compound. And even Iaheru mustered a small laugh, realizing that this momentary lapse in her obsessive nature seemed to be more endearing to Neithotep than lectures and mandates. "Insufflation is more easily controlled," Iaheru explained, pouring herself her own cup of water and sipping politely as she meandered about incoherent thoughts. "Unlike smoking, insufflation doesn't take as long to kick in so you're less likely to overindulge."
After a silent pause, Iaheru exhaled, "I expect to see you tomorrow morning." She began to walk away before turning back to say, "I love you, Nia." Her voice cracked with dryness. The words were not said often, and for but a moment in her numbed, analgesic state, they were felt intensely. Beneath obsession, beneath Iaheru's quest for redemption was the love of her children that manifested in the maintenance of their image. The blood of her blood ran through her children, especially her daughters, strongly and when her children bled, she also bled. Their hearts beat the same in jagged formations between strong lungs, faltering in this moment in the Hei's history because of a single night. A single touch. And it was this paranoia of a single misstep that tortured Iaheru and dusted her nose with opium at night.
Iaheru was far too numb to respond immediately to Neithotep, the warm blotches of purple bled into yellows and oranges, the patterns infiltrated her peripheral vision with a gradient aura. The stress she held in her shoulders melted. Her nose jutted in the air proudly as she returned the tray of tools to its place within the confines of bone inlay. Urges to sneeze are thwarted by mere willpower to evade the overwhelming burden of her husband's coldness, her son's distance, and her own isolation from those who would turn their gaze away from her.
After all, it was Egypt. She couldn't reconcile the hedonistic pleasures of the kingdom and her own shunning by that same standard. Why was it that she had suffered such a fall from grace within the court? Was it because of Sutekh's royal blood? Was it because she lied for so long?
She felt no remorse for lying. No, Iaheru was quite pleased that she had lied for so long to protect Sutekh. If she hadn't lied and the truth emerged while the Pharaoh lived, Iaheru shuddered at the estimations of Isetheperu's rage.
But she's brought back by Neithotep's laughter before her ruminations could compound. And even Iaheru mustered a small laugh, realizing that this momentary lapse in her obsessive nature seemed to be more endearing to Neithotep than lectures and mandates. "Insufflation is more easily controlled," Iaheru explained, pouring herself her own cup of water and sipping politely as she meandered about incoherent thoughts. "Unlike smoking, insufflation doesn't take as long to kick in so you're less likely to overindulge."
After a silent pause, Iaheru exhaled, "I expect to see you tomorrow morning." She began to walk away before turning back to say, "I love you, Nia." Her voice cracked with dryness. The words were not said often, and for but a moment in her numbed, analgesic state, they were felt intensely. Beneath obsession, beneath Iaheru's quest for redemption was the love of her children that manifested in the maintenance of their image. The blood of her blood ran through her children, especially her daughters, strongly and when her children bled, she also bled. Their hearts beat the same in jagged formations between strong lungs, faltering in this moment in the Hei's history because of a single night. A single touch. And it was this paranoia of a single misstep that tortured Iaheru and dusted her nose with opium at night.
It had been a long time since Neithotep last heard her mother say she loved her, those simple words deflating any fight she might have had left. It was a cracked and weak declaration, slurred by the euphoria of Iaheru’s state, but it moved her, nonetheless. And even with as much as she wanted to extract herself from Iaheru’s clutches, Nia knew she loved her, too.
Biting her lip, the young woman turned to look at her mother’s retreating back, her heart squeezing within her chest. In spite of her manicured perfectionism, Nia had to remind herself that Iaheru was still just a woman with a woman’s faults and foibles. And more than that, she was a mother, her mother, whose job was to ensure her safety. Even with all her attitude and rebellion, there was a part of Nia that knew the matriarch of Hei Sheifa was only doing what she thought was best for her family. Like any other normal person, she’d just stumbled a few times along the way.
“I love you, too, Mother.” Nia’s voice was just as hoarse and broken as Iaheru’s, though no less sincere. She turned to look at the woman’s retreating back, clearing her scratchy throat. “I’ll see you in the morning. I swear.”
At the rate she’d indulged throughout the evening, morning was likely to become early afternoon, but the sentiment remained the same. She wasn’t going to run off as soon as she awoke; she would come and spend some time with her family, whether they were driving her mad or not. The future of her Hei might not matter to her as much as it did to the others, but Nia reminded herself firmly that it was her Hei, after all. Sometimes, she needed to show it.
“Good night.”
With that final farewell, she headed down the hall, at last, carefully feeling her way along the wall as she stumbled through the darker corridor. Her conversation with her mother had left with a confusing smattering of emotions—a perplexing mixture of guilt, contentment, awe, and sadness that Nia was far too inebriated to even begin sorting through. In the morning, she promised herself, nearly falling into her bed without bothering to remove her clothes. There will be plenty of time in the morning.
Falling asleep nearly as soon as her eyes closed, Nia took a deep breath and settled in, while meanwhile the moon outside rose higher overhead. Stars winked peacefully against the luster of the night sky, and for a few blessed hours, the saraaya of Hei Sheifa was quiet and calm.
It wasn’t bound to last long.
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It had been a long time since Neithotep last heard her mother say she loved her, those simple words deflating any fight she might have had left. It was a cracked and weak declaration, slurred by the euphoria of Iaheru’s state, but it moved her, nonetheless. And even with as much as she wanted to extract herself from Iaheru’s clutches, Nia knew she loved her, too.
Biting her lip, the young woman turned to look at her mother’s retreating back, her heart squeezing within her chest. In spite of her manicured perfectionism, Nia had to remind herself that Iaheru was still just a woman with a woman’s faults and foibles. And more than that, she was a mother, her mother, whose job was to ensure her safety. Even with all her attitude and rebellion, there was a part of Nia that knew the matriarch of Hei Sheifa was only doing what she thought was best for her family. Like any other normal person, she’d just stumbled a few times along the way.
“I love you, too, Mother.” Nia’s voice was just as hoarse and broken as Iaheru’s, though no less sincere. She turned to look at the woman’s retreating back, clearing her scratchy throat. “I’ll see you in the morning. I swear.”
At the rate she’d indulged throughout the evening, morning was likely to become early afternoon, but the sentiment remained the same. She wasn’t going to run off as soon as she awoke; she would come and spend some time with her family, whether they were driving her mad or not. The future of her Hei might not matter to her as much as it did to the others, but Nia reminded herself firmly that it was her Hei, after all. Sometimes, she needed to show it.
“Good night.”
With that final farewell, she headed down the hall, at last, carefully feeling her way along the wall as she stumbled through the darker corridor. Her conversation with her mother had left with a confusing smattering of emotions—a perplexing mixture of guilt, contentment, awe, and sadness that Nia was far too inebriated to even begin sorting through. In the morning, she promised herself, nearly falling into her bed without bothering to remove her clothes. There will be plenty of time in the morning.
Falling asleep nearly as soon as her eyes closed, Nia took a deep breath and settled in, while meanwhile the moon outside rose higher overhead. Stars winked peacefully against the luster of the night sky, and for a few blessed hours, the saraaya of Hei Sheifa was quiet and calm.
It wasn’t bound to last long.
It had been a long time since Neithotep last heard her mother say she loved her, those simple words deflating any fight she might have had left. It was a cracked and weak declaration, slurred by the euphoria of Iaheru’s state, but it moved her, nonetheless. And even with as much as she wanted to extract herself from Iaheru’s clutches, Nia knew she loved her, too.
Biting her lip, the young woman turned to look at her mother’s retreating back, her heart squeezing within her chest. In spite of her manicured perfectionism, Nia had to remind herself that Iaheru was still just a woman with a woman’s faults and foibles. And more than that, she was a mother, her mother, whose job was to ensure her safety. Even with all her attitude and rebellion, there was a part of Nia that knew the matriarch of Hei Sheifa was only doing what she thought was best for her family. Like any other normal person, she’d just stumbled a few times along the way.
“I love you, too, Mother.” Nia’s voice was just as hoarse and broken as Iaheru’s, though no less sincere. She turned to look at the woman’s retreating back, clearing her scratchy throat. “I’ll see you in the morning. I swear.”
At the rate she’d indulged throughout the evening, morning was likely to become early afternoon, but the sentiment remained the same. She wasn’t going to run off as soon as she awoke; she would come and spend some time with her family, whether they were driving her mad or not. The future of her Hei might not matter to her as much as it did to the others, but Nia reminded herself firmly that it was her Hei, after all. Sometimes, she needed to show it.
“Good night.”
With that final farewell, she headed down the hall, at last, carefully feeling her way along the wall as she stumbled through the darker corridor. Her conversation with her mother had left with a confusing smattering of emotions—a perplexing mixture of guilt, contentment, awe, and sadness that Nia was far too inebriated to even begin sorting through. In the morning, she promised herself, nearly falling into her bed without bothering to remove her clothes. There will be plenty of time in the morning.
Falling asleep nearly as soon as her eyes closed, Nia took a deep breath and settled in, while meanwhile the moon outside rose higher overhead. Stars winked peacefully against the luster of the night sky, and for a few blessed hours, the saraaya of Hei Sheifa was quiet and calm.