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Though Hatshepsut had taken a bath last night to wash away the shame of her wedding night, she felt the need for another as soon as she woke up this morning. As she soaked in milk strewn with rose petals, she tried not to think of what had transpired between her new husband and herself. It had been a revolting experience and she knew she had angered Iahotep by simply lying still with her eyes closed as he performed his marital duties.
It had taken every bit of willpower she possessed not to cringe when she felt his hands upon her body and when he had sheathed himself within her, she barely stopped herself from crying out. She had felt helpless and violated, but what disgusted her most was that she could have enjoyed it if she had allowed herself to. The young Queen had felt the stirrings of desire but had suppressed them, for to feel anything at all for Iahotep would be betraying her beloved Osorsen. She hated her body for its instinctive response and hoped that it didn't happen again.
As soon as he had sated himself and rolled off of her, she had excused herself and sought the safety of her own bedroom, which was reached by a large lavish chamber between the two. After her bath, she had tried to sleep but had lain awake most of the night, crying for everything she had lost and everything that might have been. What little freedom she'd had was gone now. She was Iahotep's possession, and while she did have power of her own, it was, and always would be, secondary to his. Eventually, she had fallen into a fitful sleep with had been fraught with nightmares.
Hatshepsut sank lower into her tub. How she wished it was Osorsen in the other room instead. Had their plans succeeded, she would still be with him, curled lovingly in his arms. Their new life together would have started today and they would have been happy for the rest of their lives. What would he think when he discovered she had married another?
She had only done it for him, to keep him safe. Iahotep would have had him killed had he known that her love for the handsome General stood in his way to the greatest prize of all. For all she knew, arrangements had already been made to dispose of him if she had not succumbed to the Council's will. He was more important to her than anything else. She had given up her happiness for him. If she was lucky, her marriage wouldn't change their relationship, but if he never wanted to see her again, she would have to be content with loving him from afar.
Finished with her bath, Hatshepsut stood up and stepped out, letting her attendants dry her off with fluffy towels and dress her in a simple kalisaris held up with multicolored embroidered straps and hemmed with the same embroidered pattern. Iahotep had told her last night that he wanted her to breakfast with him in the chamber between their rooms and she had known better not to protest. What she would say to him, she had no idea. Maybe she would not speak at all and they would eat in awkward silence.
She decided not to wear any makeup or jewelry, refusing to dress up for him. Her thick raven hair was brushed to a silky sheen and left loose to tumble down her back in gentle curls. Looking at herself in her mirror, she thought she looked very small, very fragile, and very young. She had been married on her sixteenth birthday, and while there had been celebrations, they had not been for her. They had been focused on the union between Pharaoh and Queen, an event that should have brought her joy but led only to sorrow.
Satisfied with her appearance, Hatshepsut opened the door and stepped into the adjoining chamber. Her caracal Tahira rose from her cushion and followed her. A table had already been set up with two chairs flanking it on either side. The young Queen moved to one of them and sat down with a resigned little sigh, wondering how long she would have to wait until her new husband joined her. Tahira lay down at her feet and her soft fur was comforting against Hatshepsut's bare ankles.
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Jul 10, 2019 19:19:27 GMT
Posted In Expectations on Jul 10, 2019 19:19:27 GMT
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Though Hatshepsut had taken a bath last night to wash away the shame of her wedding night, she felt the need for another as soon as she woke up this morning. As she soaked in milk strewn with rose petals, she tried not to think of what had transpired between her new husband and herself. It had been a revolting experience and she knew she had angered Iahotep by simply lying still with her eyes closed as he performed his marital duties.
It had taken every bit of willpower she possessed not to cringe when she felt his hands upon her body and when he had sheathed himself within her, she barely stopped herself from crying out. She had felt helpless and violated, but what disgusted her most was that she could have enjoyed it if she had allowed herself to. The young Queen had felt the stirrings of desire but had suppressed them, for to feel anything at all for Iahotep would be betraying her beloved Osorsen. She hated her body for its instinctive response and hoped that it didn't happen again.
As soon as he had sated himself and rolled off of her, she had excused herself and sought the safety of her own bedroom, which was reached by a large lavish chamber between the two. After her bath, she had tried to sleep but had lain awake most of the night, crying for everything she had lost and everything that might have been. What little freedom she'd had was gone now. She was Iahotep's possession, and while she did have power of her own, it was, and always would be, secondary to his. Eventually, she had fallen into a fitful sleep with had been fraught with nightmares.
Hatshepsut sank lower into her tub. How she wished it was Osorsen in the other room instead. Had their plans succeeded, she would still be with him, curled lovingly in his arms. Their new life together would have started today and they would have been happy for the rest of their lives. What would he think when he discovered she had married another?
She had only done it for him, to keep him safe. Iahotep would have had him killed had he known that her love for the handsome General stood in his way to the greatest prize of all. For all she knew, arrangements had already been made to dispose of him if she had not succumbed to the Council's will. He was more important to her than anything else. She had given up her happiness for him. If she was lucky, her marriage wouldn't change their relationship, but if he never wanted to see her again, she would have to be content with loving him from afar.
Finished with her bath, Hatshepsut stood up and stepped out, letting her attendants dry her off with fluffy towels and dress her in a simple kalisaris held up with multicolored embroidered straps and hemmed with the same embroidered pattern. Iahotep had told her last night that he wanted her to breakfast with him in the chamber between their rooms and she had known better not to protest. What she would say to him, she had no idea. Maybe she would not speak at all and they would eat in awkward silence.
She decided not to wear any makeup or jewelry, refusing to dress up for him. Her thick raven hair was brushed to a silky sheen and left loose to tumble down her back in gentle curls. Looking at herself in her mirror, she thought she looked very small, very fragile, and very young. She had been married on her sixteenth birthday, and while there had been celebrations, they had not been for her. They had been focused on the union between Pharaoh and Queen, an event that should have brought her joy but led only to sorrow.
Satisfied with her appearance, Hatshepsut opened the door and stepped into the adjoining chamber. Her caracal Tahira rose from her cushion and followed her. A table had already been set up with two chairs flanking it on either side. The young Queen moved to one of them and sat down with a resigned little sigh, wondering how long she would have to wait until her new husband joined her. Tahira lay down at her feet and her soft fur was comforting against Hatshepsut's bare ankles.
Though Hatshepsut had taken a bath last night to wash away the shame of her wedding night, she felt the need for another as soon as she woke up this morning. As she soaked in milk strewn with rose petals, she tried not to think of what had transpired between her new husband and herself. It had been a revolting experience and she knew she had angered Iahotep by simply lying still with her eyes closed as he performed his marital duties.
It had taken every bit of willpower she possessed not to cringe when she felt his hands upon her body and when he had sheathed himself within her, she barely stopped herself from crying out. She had felt helpless and violated, but what disgusted her most was that she could have enjoyed it if she had allowed herself to. The young Queen had felt the stirrings of desire but had suppressed them, for to feel anything at all for Iahotep would be betraying her beloved Osorsen. She hated her body for its instinctive response and hoped that it didn't happen again.
As soon as he had sated himself and rolled off of her, she had excused herself and sought the safety of her own bedroom, which was reached by a large lavish chamber between the two. After her bath, she had tried to sleep but had lain awake most of the night, crying for everything she had lost and everything that might have been. What little freedom she'd had was gone now. She was Iahotep's possession, and while she did have power of her own, it was, and always would be, secondary to his. Eventually, she had fallen into a fitful sleep with had been fraught with nightmares.
Hatshepsut sank lower into her tub. How she wished it was Osorsen in the other room instead. Had their plans succeeded, she would still be with him, curled lovingly in his arms. Their new life together would have started today and they would have been happy for the rest of their lives. What would he think when he discovered she had married another?
She had only done it for him, to keep him safe. Iahotep would have had him killed had he known that her love for the handsome General stood in his way to the greatest prize of all. For all she knew, arrangements had already been made to dispose of him if she had not succumbed to the Council's will. He was more important to her than anything else. She had given up her happiness for him. If she was lucky, her marriage wouldn't change their relationship, but if he never wanted to see her again, she would have to be content with loving him from afar.
Finished with her bath, Hatshepsut stood up and stepped out, letting her attendants dry her off with fluffy towels and dress her in a simple kalisaris held up with multicolored embroidered straps and hemmed with the same embroidered pattern. Iahotep had told her last night that he wanted her to breakfast with him in the chamber between their rooms and she had known better not to protest. What she would say to him, she had no idea. Maybe she would not speak at all and they would eat in awkward silence.
She decided not to wear any makeup or jewelry, refusing to dress up for him. Her thick raven hair was brushed to a silky sheen and left loose to tumble down her back in gentle curls. Looking at herself in her mirror, she thought she looked very small, very fragile, and very young. She had been married on her sixteenth birthday, and while there had been celebrations, they had not been for her. They had been focused on the union between Pharaoh and Queen, an event that should have brought her joy but led only to sorrow.
Satisfied with her appearance, Hatshepsut opened the door and stepped into the adjoining chamber. Her caracal Tahira rose from her cushion and followed her. A table had already been set up with two chairs flanking it on either side. The young Queen moved to one of them and sat down with a resigned little sigh, wondering how long she would have to wait until her new husband joined her. Tahira lay down at her feet and her soft fur was comforting against Hatshepsut's bare ankles.
Their wedding night was one he had anticipated since he began making moves to claim the throne for himself. Why wouldn’t he? Hatshepsut was a beautiful woman, and one he certainly was not opposed to possessing. Yet, come the morning after their wedding night, he was nothing more than dissatisfied. Her body, her mind, and soul belonged now to him and him alone, yet, she denied him, no, defied him by lying supine with her eyes closed.
If he had known his new wife was a bullheaded child, then perhaps he would not be smoldering in anger. Perhaps he should have done as his desires bid him and sunk his teeth into her flesh until blood coated his tongue. She would have, at least, made some semblance of a noise then. The only thing that spared her from bearing the full weight of his sadistic urges was the simple fact that practicality called for him to fulfil his duties before his own pleasure. The sooner she was with child, the better.
When he requested his ‘Queen’ have breakfast with him, it was not to enjoy a meal or have casual conversation. Truthfully, he had not foreseen a need to explain himself to her, but clearly, she had not been trained properly. He would not allow the stubbornness of a childish Queen besmirch his name before he had a chance to solidify it. She would learn how she was to behave around him on her own or by force. This, this ignorance was unacceptable.
It was time to correct it.
Donning only an Usekh collar and ornate kilt, he entered the chamber with his beloved Isis following at his side. He was beyond furious, though his brows merely furrowed as a small frown pulled at his lips. He rarely expressed the fullest extent of his emotions to anyone. Though it may have done her some good to see the fullness of his wrath, he gave her a rare reprieve. Hatshepsut was young and unaware of just how serious he was, clearly. If she had known then she would not have risked his fury with her own insolence, he was sure of it.
Whatever her reason, she at least had enough sense to be where he commanded her to be. He was not in the mood for anything else but her complete obedience. Iahotep took his seat in silence, looking her over with a critical eye. She wore no makeup or jewels, unlike he, but it did not stop the glint of desire in his eyes. She was still so beautiful, and, he might have conceded with the urge to pull her into his arms and take her to his bed once again, if it were not for the fury that boiled within his blood. He remained silent, for a time contented with only looking her over.
Only when he was ready, did he speak. “It is clear to me we must go over my expectations for you, my dear.” Reaching down to stroke the head of lsis, he eased his breathing to slow. She would not see his rage, not yet. “You will never do as you did last night in public. A Queen does not reject her Pharaoh. I care not for your childish behavior, but there is an appearance we must uphold, to break it is to bring about complications neither of us wish to deal with.” He hoped, at least, she was competent enough to understand what he spoke of.
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Jul 13, 2019 1:06:55 GMT
Posted In Expectations on Jul 13, 2019 1:06:55 GMT
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Their wedding night was one he had anticipated since he began making moves to claim the throne for himself. Why wouldn’t he? Hatshepsut was a beautiful woman, and one he certainly was not opposed to possessing. Yet, come the morning after their wedding night, he was nothing more than dissatisfied. Her body, her mind, and soul belonged now to him and him alone, yet, she denied him, no, defied him by lying supine with her eyes closed.
If he had known his new wife was a bullheaded child, then perhaps he would not be smoldering in anger. Perhaps he should have done as his desires bid him and sunk his teeth into her flesh until blood coated his tongue. She would have, at least, made some semblance of a noise then. The only thing that spared her from bearing the full weight of his sadistic urges was the simple fact that practicality called for him to fulfil his duties before his own pleasure. The sooner she was with child, the better.
When he requested his ‘Queen’ have breakfast with him, it was not to enjoy a meal or have casual conversation. Truthfully, he had not foreseen a need to explain himself to her, but clearly, she had not been trained properly. He would not allow the stubbornness of a childish Queen besmirch his name before he had a chance to solidify it. She would learn how she was to behave around him on her own or by force. This, this ignorance was unacceptable.
It was time to correct it.
Donning only an Usekh collar and ornate kilt, he entered the chamber with his beloved Isis following at his side. He was beyond furious, though his brows merely furrowed as a small frown pulled at his lips. He rarely expressed the fullest extent of his emotions to anyone. Though it may have done her some good to see the fullness of his wrath, he gave her a rare reprieve. Hatshepsut was young and unaware of just how serious he was, clearly. If she had known then she would not have risked his fury with her own insolence, he was sure of it.
Whatever her reason, she at least had enough sense to be where he commanded her to be. He was not in the mood for anything else but her complete obedience. Iahotep took his seat in silence, looking her over with a critical eye. She wore no makeup or jewels, unlike he, but it did not stop the glint of desire in his eyes. She was still so beautiful, and, he might have conceded with the urge to pull her into his arms and take her to his bed once again, if it were not for the fury that boiled within his blood. He remained silent, for a time contented with only looking her over.
Only when he was ready, did he speak. “It is clear to me we must go over my expectations for you, my dear.” Reaching down to stroke the head of lsis, he eased his breathing to slow. She would not see his rage, not yet. “You will never do as you did last night in public. A Queen does not reject her Pharaoh. I care not for your childish behavior, but there is an appearance we must uphold, to break it is to bring about complications neither of us wish to deal with.” He hoped, at least, she was competent enough to understand what he spoke of.
Their wedding night was one he had anticipated since he began making moves to claim the throne for himself. Why wouldn’t he? Hatshepsut was a beautiful woman, and one he certainly was not opposed to possessing. Yet, come the morning after their wedding night, he was nothing more than dissatisfied. Her body, her mind, and soul belonged now to him and him alone, yet, she denied him, no, defied him by lying supine with her eyes closed.
If he had known his new wife was a bullheaded child, then perhaps he would not be smoldering in anger. Perhaps he should have done as his desires bid him and sunk his teeth into her flesh until blood coated his tongue. She would have, at least, made some semblance of a noise then. The only thing that spared her from bearing the full weight of his sadistic urges was the simple fact that practicality called for him to fulfil his duties before his own pleasure. The sooner she was with child, the better.
When he requested his ‘Queen’ have breakfast with him, it was not to enjoy a meal or have casual conversation. Truthfully, he had not foreseen a need to explain himself to her, but clearly, she had not been trained properly. He would not allow the stubbornness of a childish Queen besmirch his name before he had a chance to solidify it. She would learn how she was to behave around him on her own or by force. This, this ignorance was unacceptable.
It was time to correct it.
Donning only an Usekh collar and ornate kilt, he entered the chamber with his beloved Isis following at his side. He was beyond furious, though his brows merely furrowed as a small frown pulled at his lips. He rarely expressed the fullest extent of his emotions to anyone. Though it may have done her some good to see the fullness of his wrath, he gave her a rare reprieve. Hatshepsut was young and unaware of just how serious he was, clearly. If she had known then she would not have risked his fury with her own insolence, he was sure of it.
Whatever her reason, she at least had enough sense to be where he commanded her to be. He was not in the mood for anything else but her complete obedience. Iahotep took his seat in silence, looking her over with a critical eye. She wore no makeup or jewels, unlike he, but it did not stop the glint of desire in his eyes. She was still so beautiful, and, he might have conceded with the urge to pull her into his arms and take her to his bed once again, if it were not for the fury that boiled within his blood. He remained silent, for a time contented with only looking her over.
Only when he was ready, did he speak. “It is clear to me we must go over my expectations for you, my dear.” Reaching down to stroke the head of lsis, he eased his breathing to slow. She would not see his rage, not yet. “You will never do as you did last night in public. A Queen does not reject her Pharaoh. I care not for your childish behavior, but there is an appearance we must uphold, to break it is to bring about complications neither of us wish to deal with.” He hoped, at least, she was competent enough to understand what he spoke of.
The longer she waited, the more nervous Hatshepsut became. While she hoped that Iahotep just wanted to share breakfast with his new bride, she suspected there was much more to his invitation than that. Myriad scenarios, all of them distressing, insinuated themselves into her mind. Did he want to complain about her performance last night … or lack thereof? Or did he plan to tell her that he had no need of her except in the bedchamber?
The young Queen's greatest fear was that she would be nothing more than a figurehead and that her husband would do whatever he wished without consulting her at all. Young as she was, she believed that she was more fit to rule that he was; she understood her people and they loved her. All he knew was military tactics and strategy. Egypt was not an army. She could be useful to him for more than simply bearing his heirs. As long as his reign lasts. Once Osorsen returns, he will find a way to overthrow him and take what should be his … both the throne and myself.
Shaking her head to clear it, Hatshepsut reached down and scratched Tahira behind her large tufted ears. Just then, the door opened and she lifted her eyes as Iahotep strode into the room. His attire was a bit more formal than hers, and she smirked inwardly, wanting him to notice that she didn't care enough about his opinion of her to dress up for him. A childish thought, perhaps, followed through with a childish deed that was not worthy of the Queen she was. Yet she had done it just to spite him and didn't regret her decision, not even when she saw his expression of disapproval.
Tahira sat up and looked over at Iahotep's cheetah, a soft growl emerging from the throat. The caracal was very protective of her mistress and Hatshepsut knew that she would never be a match for the larger cat if one of them were to attack the other. She stroked Tahira gently, trying to calm her. At least she and Iahotep had one thing in common. They both liked cats.
When he sat down in the chair opposite hers, the desire that flared in his eyes made Hatshepsut want to shrink away from him, but she steeled herself and refused to let him see her fear. Was that what he wanted from her? A repeat of last night? Was she what he wanted to have for breakfast? He simply studied her for what seemed like an eternity. She felt helpless and vulnerable and scared.
Though his face did not change, she felt that she could sense his fury as he looked at her. He had a reputation for violence, she knew that much, but surely he wouldn't strike his own wife. She bit her lip and forced herself to meet his eyes when every instinct she possessed told her to stand up and flee back into the safety of her room. But was it safe anymore? He could follow her. He could …
His words chilled her to the bone. He didn't think she understood how to act in public because of her lack of response last night. And how dare he call her childish, even though she knew at times she was. She was sixteen now, a woman grown, and she knew how to behave in the presence of others. All her life she had been trained to hide her feelings and show a gracious and regal presence to the world. That would not change even now that she was married to a man she couldn't stand.
“I did not reject you last night, my Pharaoh.” His title left a bitter taste in her mouth. He didn't deserve it and never would. “I submitted to you as was my duty. I assure you that I know the importance of presenting a united front in public. I have been trained to be Queen since birth.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “In fact, I believe I know more about ruling my kingdom than you do.” That last statement slipped from her lips without thinking, and instantly she rued her impetuous outburst.
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Jul 14, 2019 19:15:14 GMT
Posted In Expectations on Jul 14, 2019 19:15:14 GMT
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The longer she waited, the more nervous Hatshepsut became. While she hoped that Iahotep just wanted to share breakfast with his new bride, she suspected there was much more to his invitation than that. Myriad scenarios, all of them distressing, insinuated themselves into her mind. Did he want to complain about her performance last night … or lack thereof? Or did he plan to tell her that he had no need of her except in the bedchamber?
The young Queen's greatest fear was that she would be nothing more than a figurehead and that her husband would do whatever he wished without consulting her at all. Young as she was, she believed that she was more fit to rule that he was; she understood her people and they loved her. All he knew was military tactics and strategy. Egypt was not an army. She could be useful to him for more than simply bearing his heirs. As long as his reign lasts. Once Osorsen returns, he will find a way to overthrow him and take what should be his … both the throne and myself.
Shaking her head to clear it, Hatshepsut reached down and scratched Tahira behind her large tufted ears. Just then, the door opened and she lifted her eyes as Iahotep strode into the room. His attire was a bit more formal than hers, and she smirked inwardly, wanting him to notice that she didn't care enough about his opinion of her to dress up for him. A childish thought, perhaps, followed through with a childish deed that was not worthy of the Queen she was. Yet she had done it just to spite him and didn't regret her decision, not even when she saw his expression of disapproval.
Tahira sat up and looked over at Iahotep's cheetah, a soft growl emerging from the throat. The caracal was very protective of her mistress and Hatshepsut knew that she would never be a match for the larger cat if one of them were to attack the other. She stroked Tahira gently, trying to calm her. At least she and Iahotep had one thing in common. They both liked cats.
When he sat down in the chair opposite hers, the desire that flared in his eyes made Hatshepsut want to shrink away from him, but she steeled herself and refused to let him see her fear. Was that what he wanted from her? A repeat of last night? Was she what he wanted to have for breakfast? He simply studied her for what seemed like an eternity. She felt helpless and vulnerable and scared.
Though his face did not change, she felt that she could sense his fury as he looked at her. He had a reputation for violence, she knew that much, but surely he wouldn't strike his own wife. She bit her lip and forced herself to meet his eyes when every instinct she possessed told her to stand up and flee back into the safety of her room. But was it safe anymore? He could follow her. He could …
His words chilled her to the bone. He didn't think she understood how to act in public because of her lack of response last night. And how dare he call her childish, even though she knew at times she was. She was sixteen now, a woman grown, and she knew how to behave in the presence of others. All her life she had been trained to hide her feelings and show a gracious and regal presence to the world. That would not change even now that she was married to a man she couldn't stand.
“I did not reject you last night, my Pharaoh.” His title left a bitter taste in her mouth. He didn't deserve it and never would. “I submitted to you as was my duty. I assure you that I know the importance of presenting a united front in public. I have been trained to be Queen since birth.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “In fact, I believe I know more about ruling my kingdom than you do.” That last statement slipped from her lips without thinking, and instantly she rued her impetuous outburst.
The longer she waited, the more nervous Hatshepsut became. While she hoped that Iahotep just wanted to share breakfast with his new bride, she suspected there was much more to his invitation than that. Myriad scenarios, all of them distressing, insinuated themselves into her mind. Did he want to complain about her performance last night … or lack thereof? Or did he plan to tell her that he had no need of her except in the bedchamber?
The young Queen's greatest fear was that she would be nothing more than a figurehead and that her husband would do whatever he wished without consulting her at all. Young as she was, she believed that she was more fit to rule that he was; she understood her people and they loved her. All he knew was military tactics and strategy. Egypt was not an army. She could be useful to him for more than simply bearing his heirs. As long as his reign lasts. Once Osorsen returns, he will find a way to overthrow him and take what should be his … both the throne and myself.
Shaking her head to clear it, Hatshepsut reached down and scratched Tahira behind her large tufted ears. Just then, the door opened and she lifted her eyes as Iahotep strode into the room. His attire was a bit more formal than hers, and she smirked inwardly, wanting him to notice that she didn't care enough about his opinion of her to dress up for him. A childish thought, perhaps, followed through with a childish deed that was not worthy of the Queen she was. Yet she had done it just to spite him and didn't regret her decision, not even when she saw his expression of disapproval.
Tahira sat up and looked over at Iahotep's cheetah, a soft growl emerging from the throat. The caracal was very protective of her mistress and Hatshepsut knew that she would never be a match for the larger cat if one of them were to attack the other. She stroked Tahira gently, trying to calm her. At least she and Iahotep had one thing in common. They both liked cats.
When he sat down in the chair opposite hers, the desire that flared in his eyes made Hatshepsut want to shrink away from him, but she steeled herself and refused to let him see her fear. Was that what he wanted from her? A repeat of last night? Was she what he wanted to have for breakfast? He simply studied her for what seemed like an eternity. She felt helpless and vulnerable and scared.
Though his face did not change, she felt that she could sense his fury as he looked at her. He had a reputation for violence, she knew that much, but surely he wouldn't strike his own wife. She bit her lip and forced herself to meet his eyes when every instinct she possessed told her to stand up and flee back into the safety of her room. But was it safe anymore? He could follow her. He could …
His words chilled her to the bone. He didn't think she understood how to act in public because of her lack of response last night. And how dare he call her childish, even though she knew at times she was. She was sixteen now, a woman grown, and she knew how to behave in the presence of others. All her life she had been trained to hide her feelings and show a gracious and regal presence to the world. That would not change even now that she was married to a man she couldn't stand.
“I did not reject you last night, my Pharaoh.” His title left a bitter taste in her mouth. He didn't deserve it and never would. “I submitted to you as was my duty. I assure you that I know the importance of presenting a united front in public. I have been trained to be Queen since birth.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “In fact, I believe I know more about ruling my kingdom than you do.” That last statement slipped from her lips without thinking, and instantly she rued her impetuous outburst.
He was in a foul mood and one that was growing fouler the longer this wife of his continued to speak. He expected to hear her concede to his wishes and then remain silent, not raise her chin in defiance and insult him. He should have been merciful and forgiven this slight against him, but he was no longer in the merciful mood. If Hatshepsut wished to challenge him in such a way, then she would learn what it would cost her. Iahotep flashed her a bitter, tight lipped smile that vanished as quickly as the rage in his eyes grew. His hand drew away from Isis to rest on the table. He stared at her, seething in silence for a long moment. “Is that so, my Queen?” When he finally spoke, his words were slow and deliberate as he rose from his seat. “Then allow me to show you how I rule.”
He crossed the space between then with quick strides and found himself at her side. The growling of her little scrap of fur did nothing to stop him from raising his hand and striking her across the face in a swift, brutal motion. “You will never speak to me in such a way again,” He looked down at her, now scowling. “Do you understand?” Iahotep was turned away from her, heading back for his seat before he had a chance to hear what she might say. If she had enough intelligence to do more than provide him children, then he would hear nothing but her compliance to his demands. Oh, she could snap back at him if she wished, but he would not restrain himself as he previously had. He needed her to continue his bloodline, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t stop short of killing her. The council and her mother would disapprove, cry out against it even, but he was in no mood to care about what they would say. She would learn and she would learn now that he would not tolerate her surliness.
Iahotep found his seat again but he did little more than look her over with analytical precision. What ever was he going to do with this girl? “Trained to be Queen since birth.” he echoed, rolling his eyes. “While I am sure in sixteen years, you now know all that emcompasses being a queen, they did not train you for me.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I had hoped Isetheperu did not birth a pettish fool, but if I must explain everything to you, I will.”
“I do not care if you are content lying still in the bedchamber like a corpse -- You will come when I summon you and do as I command you to do. I do not like to repeat myself.” The scowl on his face lightened, if only slightly as he looked her over yet again. It was a shame something so beautiful was so...peevish. Perhaps a discussion with Isetheperu was in order.
“You will come to find that this petulance will serve only to harm you. I expect a queen, not a child, to stand by my side. If you cannot control these outbursts of yours, then I will teach you how. Do not disappointment me on that front, my dear. Show me the results of the training you speak of and we will get along all the better.” He finally eased back, taking his elbows from the table to seemingly relax in his seat. Of course, relaxation was the furthest thing from his mind, though his hand hung down to pet Isis once again, whom almost seemed to give Tahira a quizzical look.
“If you wish to speak, you may.”
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He was in a foul mood and one that was growing fouler the longer this wife of his continued to speak. He expected to hear her concede to his wishes and then remain silent, not raise her chin in defiance and insult him. He should have been merciful and forgiven this slight against him, but he was no longer in the merciful mood. If Hatshepsut wished to challenge him in such a way, then she would learn what it would cost her. Iahotep flashed her a bitter, tight lipped smile that vanished as quickly as the rage in his eyes grew. His hand drew away from Isis to rest on the table. He stared at her, seething in silence for a long moment. “Is that so, my Queen?” When he finally spoke, his words were slow and deliberate as he rose from his seat. “Then allow me to show you how I rule.”
He crossed the space between then with quick strides and found himself at her side. The growling of her little scrap of fur did nothing to stop him from raising his hand and striking her across the face in a swift, brutal motion. “You will never speak to me in such a way again,” He looked down at her, now scowling. “Do you understand?” Iahotep was turned away from her, heading back for his seat before he had a chance to hear what she might say. If she had enough intelligence to do more than provide him children, then he would hear nothing but her compliance to his demands. Oh, she could snap back at him if she wished, but he would not restrain himself as he previously had. He needed her to continue his bloodline, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t stop short of killing her. The council and her mother would disapprove, cry out against it even, but he was in no mood to care about what they would say. She would learn and she would learn now that he would not tolerate her surliness.
Iahotep found his seat again but he did little more than look her over with analytical precision. What ever was he going to do with this girl? “Trained to be Queen since birth.” he echoed, rolling his eyes. “While I am sure in sixteen years, you now know all that emcompasses being a queen, they did not train you for me.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I had hoped Isetheperu did not birth a pettish fool, but if I must explain everything to you, I will.”
“I do not care if you are content lying still in the bedchamber like a corpse -- You will come when I summon you and do as I command you to do. I do not like to repeat myself.” The scowl on his face lightened, if only slightly as he looked her over yet again. It was a shame something so beautiful was so...peevish. Perhaps a discussion with Isetheperu was in order.
“You will come to find that this petulance will serve only to harm you. I expect a queen, not a child, to stand by my side. If you cannot control these outbursts of yours, then I will teach you how. Do not disappointment me on that front, my dear. Show me the results of the training you speak of and we will get along all the better.” He finally eased back, taking his elbows from the table to seemingly relax in his seat. Of course, relaxation was the furthest thing from his mind, though his hand hung down to pet Isis once again, whom almost seemed to give Tahira a quizzical look.
“If you wish to speak, you may.”
He was in a foul mood and one that was growing fouler the longer this wife of his continued to speak. He expected to hear her concede to his wishes and then remain silent, not raise her chin in defiance and insult him. He should have been merciful and forgiven this slight against him, but he was no longer in the merciful mood. If Hatshepsut wished to challenge him in such a way, then she would learn what it would cost her. Iahotep flashed her a bitter, tight lipped smile that vanished as quickly as the rage in his eyes grew. His hand drew away from Isis to rest on the table. He stared at her, seething in silence for a long moment. “Is that so, my Queen?” When he finally spoke, his words were slow and deliberate as he rose from his seat. “Then allow me to show you how I rule.”
He crossed the space between then with quick strides and found himself at her side. The growling of her little scrap of fur did nothing to stop him from raising his hand and striking her across the face in a swift, brutal motion. “You will never speak to me in such a way again,” He looked down at her, now scowling. “Do you understand?” Iahotep was turned away from her, heading back for his seat before he had a chance to hear what she might say. If she had enough intelligence to do more than provide him children, then he would hear nothing but her compliance to his demands. Oh, she could snap back at him if she wished, but he would not restrain himself as he previously had. He needed her to continue his bloodline, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t stop short of killing her. The council and her mother would disapprove, cry out against it even, but he was in no mood to care about what they would say. She would learn and she would learn now that he would not tolerate her surliness.
Iahotep found his seat again but he did little more than look her over with analytical precision. What ever was he going to do with this girl? “Trained to be Queen since birth.” he echoed, rolling his eyes. “While I am sure in sixteen years, you now know all that emcompasses being a queen, they did not train you for me.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I had hoped Isetheperu did not birth a pettish fool, but if I must explain everything to you, I will.”
“I do not care if you are content lying still in the bedchamber like a corpse -- You will come when I summon you and do as I command you to do. I do not like to repeat myself.” The scowl on his face lightened, if only slightly as he looked her over yet again. It was a shame something so beautiful was so...peevish. Perhaps a discussion with Isetheperu was in order.
“You will come to find that this petulance will serve only to harm you. I expect a queen, not a child, to stand by my side. If you cannot control these outbursts of yours, then I will teach you how. Do not disappointment me on that front, my dear. Show me the results of the training you speak of and we will get along all the better.” He finally eased back, taking his elbows from the table to seemingly relax in his seat. Of course, relaxation was the furthest thing from his mind, though his hand hung down to pet Isis once again, whom almost seemed to give Tahira a quizzical look.
“If you wish to speak, you may.”
Hatshepsut could not just sense her husband's fury now. She could see it raging in his eyes and hear it in the calculated slowness of his voice. Her impetuous remark had infuriated him and again, she wished that she could take it back. As he stood, she just stared at him, fear clenching her stomach when he told her that he would show her how he was going to rule. Surely he didn't mean …
Suddenly he was upon her and as soon as she saw him raise his hand, she held tightly to Tahira's jeweled collar, knowing that if he touched her, the caracal would attack. He would probably choke the life out of her beloved cat without even blinking an eye. Iahoteps' forceful blow drove Hatshepsut's head upwards and sideways, but she managed to keep hold of Tahira, even as the feline hissed and attempted to lunge. Her mind reeled with shock and disbelief, both warring for dominance. How dare he strike me as if I were a disobedient slave, she thought. He has no right to treat me like this.
He is a monster!
Her ears were ringing but she heard every word of his reprimand. His form seemed to sway in the blurriness of her vision as he walked back to his seat as if he had just done the most normal thing in the world. Maybe in his eyes, he had. The pain hit her all at once as her shock gave way to outrage. Her cheek stung dreadfully. She reached up and gingerly touched it. No blood soaked her questing fingers. The most cruel and evil fiends were those who knew how to hurt you without leaving marks.
He is a vile and disgusting monster!
Tears burned behind her eyes, but Hatshepsut blinked them away, refusing to show herself as the child he accused her of being. Why should she be surprised that he threw their age difference in her face? As much as she thought she knew, he was more experienced in the ways of the world than she was. She should have thought of that. She should have thought before speaking. She should have thought. Period.
Iahotep was correct in that she had not been trained for him. Nobody had, and her people would suffer more than she had at his hands. If he could casually strike his own wife, how much more violent would he be to one of his subjects who displeased him? Mother,she silently cried. How could you and the Council ever think that Iahotep would be good for Egypt or for me? Would you approve of him harming your own beloved child? As much as she wished she could tell Isetheperu of the atrocity he had committed against her, she knew that if she did, there would be repercussions that would make what he had done today seem like an affectionate caress.
His instructions penetrated her agony-filled mind and she silently railed against them. Iahotep expected her to act like a slave and do everything he told her to do. Though he mentioned standing by his side, Hatshepsut wasn't fooled into thinking he would seek her council or let her rule with him. He simply wanted to show his authority over her. Marrying her had been the only way he could become Pharaoh. Without her, he would be nothing. He knew that, and wanted her utter obedience to make absolutely sure she did not plot against him.
Well, he's going about it the wrong way. I will kill him. Osorsen will help me when he returns from Greece. He will not be Pharaoh for long.
In the meantime, she had to attempt to get along with him. That training he had mocked served her well, for she quelled the impulse to scream at him to go and fuck himself. Instead, Hatshepsut sat still and stroked Tahira's soft warm fur. She realized that she was as cold as ice. How could that be? Why was it suddenly freezing in here?
She nearly cringed when he gave her permission to speak. “It doesn't sound as if you want a wife,” she whispered, “but another pet. Is that truly all you think of me?”
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Posted In Expectations on Jul 19, 2019 19:19:52 GMT
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Hatshepsut could not just sense her husband's fury now. She could see it raging in his eyes and hear it in the calculated slowness of his voice. Her impetuous remark had infuriated him and again, she wished that she could take it back. As he stood, she just stared at him, fear clenching her stomach when he told her that he would show her how he was going to rule. Surely he didn't mean …
Suddenly he was upon her and as soon as she saw him raise his hand, she held tightly to Tahira's jeweled collar, knowing that if he touched her, the caracal would attack. He would probably choke the life out of her beloved cat without even blinking an eye. Iahoteps' forceful blow drove Hatshepsut's head upwards and sideways, but she managed to keep hold of Tahira, even as the feline hissed and attempted to lunge. Her mind reeled with shock and disbelief, both warring for dominance. How dare he strike me as if I were a disobedient slave, she thought. He has no right to treat me like this.
He is a monster!
Her ears were ringing but she heard every word of his reprimand. His form seemed to sway in the blurriness of her vision as he walked back to his seat as if he had just done the most normal thing in the world. Maybe in his eyes, he had. The pain hit her all at once as her shock gave way to outrage. Her cheek stung dreadfully. She reached up and gingerly touched it. No blood soaked her questing fingers. The most cruel and evil fiends were those who knew how to hurt you without leaving marks.
He is a vile and disgusting monster!
Tears burned behind her eyes, but Hatshepsut blinked them away, refusing to show herself as the child he accused her of being. Why should she be surprised that he threw their age difference in her face? As much as she thought she knew, he was more experienced in the ways of the world than she was. She should have thought of that. She should have thought before speaking. She should have thought. Period.
Iahotep was correct in that she had not been trained for him. Nobody had, and her people would suffer more than she had at his hands. If he could casually strike his own wife, how much more violent would he be to one of his subjects who displeased him? Mother,she silently cried. How could you and the Council ever think that Iahotep would be good for Egypt or for me? Would you approve of him harming your own beloved child? As much as she wished she could tell Isetheperu of the atrocity he had committed against her, she knew that if she did, there would be repercussions that would make what he had done today seem like an affectionate caress.
His instructions penetrated her agony-filled mind and she silently railed against them. Iahotep expected her to act like a slave and do everything he told her to do. Though he mentioned standing by his side, Hatshepsut wasn't fooled into thinking he would seek her council or let her rule with him. He simply wanted to show his authority over her. Marrying her had been the only way he could become Pharaoh. Without her, he would be nothing. He knew that, and wanted her utter obedience to make absolutely sure she did not plot against him.
Well, he's going about it the wrong way. I will kill him. Osorsen will help me when he returns from Greece. He will not be Pharaoh for long.
In the meantime, she had to attempt to get along with him. That training he had mocked served her well, for she quelled the impulse to scream at him to go and fuck himself. Instead, Hatshepsut sat still and stroked Tahira's soft warm fur. She realized that she was as cold as ice. How could that be? Why was it suddenly freezing in here?
She nearly cringed when he gave her permission to speak. “It doesn't sound as if you want a wife,” she whispered, “but another pet. Is that truly all you think of me?”
Hatshepsut could not just sense her husband's fury now. She could see it raging in his eyes and hear it in the calculated slowness of his voice. Her impetuous remark had infuriated him and again, she wished that she could take it back. As he stood, she just stared at him, fear clenching her stomach when he told her that he would show her how he was going to rule. Surely he didn't mean …
Suddenly he was upon her and as soon as she saw him raise his hand, she held tightly to Tahira's jeweled collar, knowing that if he touched her, the caracal would attack. He would probably choke the life out of her beloved cat without even blinking an eye. Iahoteps' forceful blow drove Hatshepsut's head upwards and sideways, but she managed to keep hold of Tahira, even as the feline hissed and attempted to lunge. Her mind reeled with shock and disbelief, both warring for dominance. How dare he strike me as if I were a disobedient slave, she thought. He has no right to treat me like this.
He is a monster!
Her ears were ringing but she heard every word of his reprimand. His form seemed to sway in the blurriness of her vision as he walked back to his seat as if he had just done the most normal thing in the world. Maybe in his eyes, he had. The pain hit her all at once as her shock gave way to outrage. Her cheek stung dreadfully. She reached up and gingerly touched it. No blood soaked her questing fingers. The most cruel and evil fiends were those who knew how to hurt you without leaving marks.
He is a vile and disgusting monster!
Tears burned behind her eyes, but Hatshepsut blinked them away, refusing to show herself as the child he accused her of being. Why should she be surprised that he threw their age difference in her face? As much as she thought she knew, he was more experienced in the ways of the world than she was. She should have thought of that. She should have thought before speaking. She should have thought. Period.
Iahotep was correct in that she had not been trained for him. Nobody had, and her people would suffer more than she had at his hands. If he could casually strike his own wife, how much more violent would he be to one of his subjects who displeased him? Mother,she silently cried. How could you and the Council ever think that Iahotep would be good for Egypt or for me? Would you approve of him harming your own beloved child? As much as she wished she could tell Isetheperu of the atrocity he had committed against her, she knew that if she did, there would be repercussions that would make what he had done today seem like an affectionate caress.
His instructions penetrated her agony-filled mind and she silently railed against them. Iahotep expected her to act like a slave and do everything he told her to do. Though he mentioned standing by his side, Hatshepsut wasn't fooled into thinking he would seek her council or let her rule with him. He simply wanted to show his authority over her. Marrying her had been the only way he could become Pharaoh. Without her, he would be nothing. He knew that, and wanted her utter obedience to make absolutely sure she did not plot against him.
Well, he's going about it the wrong way. I will kill him. Osorsen will help me when he returns from Greece. He will not be Pharaoh for long.
In the meantime, she had to attempt to get along with him. That training he had mocked served her well, for she quelled the impulse to scream at him to go and fuck himself. Instead, Hatshepsut sat still and stroked Tahira's soft warm fur. She realized that she was as cold as ice. How could that be? Why was it suddenly freezing in here?
She nearly cringed when he gave her permission to speak. “It doesn't sound as if you want a wife,” she whispered, “but another pet. Is that truly all you think of me?”
It would be a brazen lie to say he did not enjoy the slight sting in his palm or watching her head snap away from the blow. Oh, he could have taken her to bed now if he hadn’t known that his own sadistic impulsives would cause her a great deal of pain. Punishing her, brutally even, was not what spared her. No. It was only the knowledge of the fact that he would break her that he quelled his excitement in favor of running his fingers through Isis’ fur. She could be pregnant after all, what use would her broken body be to him?
His eyes lingered on Tahira for a moment. It was brief, but long enough for him to decide that the little pest could live. She was only doing was instinct told her to do, much like he, though she was quite lucky her mistress held her back, otherwise the Queen would be finding herself a new caracal. But no matter, there was more to this breakfast than envisioning himself beating that scrap of fur to death.
He found himself looking her over again. So beautiful. Surely she knew this, and yet, she was opposed to him in every way it seemed. Why exactly? He was older than her, certainly, but that was not grounds for such vehement defiance. Was it not in her training to submit to her pharaoh in every way? To accept his will and mold herself into his vision for her? To rule together, pharaoh and queen over all of Egypt? And yet, it seemed that the young Hatsheptsut wanted none of that. Her question made him raise a brow; he hardly heard her.
“Speak clearly when you address me.”
Letting out a long, long sigh, Iahotep spoke again. “It seems to me that you are keen on being treated as a pet, my dear,” His tone was calm, relaxed even in spite of the dark desire within him to cross the space between him and gouge out her eyes. “Your behavior has told me that much,” Surely, she knew this? “You say you were trained to be queen your entire life, and yet when it is your time to show the results of this training, you resort to insolent and petulant behavior. You act more akin to a child than a queen, and a child will not rule beside me. If you are content with how you compose yourself, then I have no further use of you. You will bear my children and that is all because you have not proven you are anything but that.”
Everything made perfect sense to him. She was shocked he had treated her so, and yet, her actions indicated that was the only way she knew how to be treated. While he was sure she had never been slapped before, it didn’t make him feel even the tiniest twinge of regret for doing so. It was high time she learned her place. Whatever she had envisioned marriage to be like, it clearly was not him, though he did not care. She would conform herself to his will or he would make striking her all the more common. Frankly, he didn’t care if he had to beat her within an inch of her life if it meant that she would stop with her petulance and act like a woman.
And he would start now if need be.
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It would be a brazen lie to say he did not enjoy the slight sting in his palm or watching her head snap away from the blow. Oh, he could have taken her to bed now if he hadn’t known that his own sadistic impulsives would cause her a great deal of pain. Punishing her, brutally even, was not what spared her. No. It was only the knowledge of the fact that he would break her that he quelled his excitement in favor of running his fingers through Isis’ fur. She could be pregnant after all, what use would her broken body be to him?
His eyes lingered on Tahira for a moment. It was brief, but long enough for him to decide that the little pest could live. She was only doing was instinct told her to do, much like he, though she was quite lucky her mistress held her back, otherwise the Queen would be finding herself a new caracal. But no matter, there was more to this breakfast than envisioning himself beating that scrap of fur to death.
He found himself looking her over again. So beautiful. Surely she knew this, and yet, she was opposed to him in every way it seemed. Why exactly? He was older than her, certainly, but that was not grounds for such vehement defiance. Was it not in her training to submit to her pharaoh in every way? To accept his will and mold herself into his vision for her? To rule together, pharaoh and queen over all of Egypt? And yet, it seemed that the young Hatsheptsut wanted none of that. Her question made him raise a brow; he hardly heard her.
“Speak clearly when you address me.”
Letting out a long, long sigh, Iahotep spoke again. “It seems to me that you are keen on being treated as a pet, my dear,” His tone was calm, relaxed even in spite of the dark desire within him to cross the space between him and gouge out her eyes. “Your behavior has told me that much,” Surely, she knew this? “You say you were trained to be queen your entire life, and yet when it is your time to show the results of this training, you resort to insolent and petulant behavior. You act more akin to a child than a queen, and a child will not rule beside me. If you are content with how you compose yourself, then I have no further use of you. You will bear my children and that is all because you have not proven you are anything but that.”
Everything made perfect sense to him. She was shocked he had treated her so, and yet, her actions indicated that was the only way she knew how to be treated. While he was sure she had never been slapped before, it didn’t make him feel even the tiniest twinge of regret for doing so. It was high time she learned her place. Whatever she had envisioned marriage to be like, it clearly was not him, though he did not care. She would conform herself to his will or he would make striking her all the more common. Frankly, he didn’t care if he had to beat her within an inch of her life if it meant that she would stop with her petulance and act like a woman.
And he would start now if need be.
It would be a brazen lie to say he did not enjoy the slight sting in his palm or watching her head snap away from the blow. Oh, he could have taken her to bed now if he hadn’t known that his own sadistic impulsives would cause her a great deal of pain. Punishing her, brutally even, was not what spared her. No. It was only the knowledge of the fact that he would break her that he quelled his excitement in favor of running his fingers through Isis’ fur. She could be pregnant after all, what use would her broken body be to him?
His eyes lingered on Tahira for a moment. It was brief, but long enough for him to decide that the little pest could live. She was only doing was instinct told her to do, much like he, though she was quite lucky her mistress held her back, otherwise the Queen would be finding herself a new caracal. But no matter, there was more to this breakfast than envisioning himself beating that scrap of fur to death.
He found himself looking her over again. So beautiful. Surely she knew this, and yet, she was opposed to him in every way it seemed. Why exactly? He was older than her, certainly, but that was not grounds for such vehement defiance. Was it not in her training to submit to her pharaoh in every way? To accept his will and mold herself into his vision for her? To rule together, pharaoh and queen over all of Egypt? And yet, it seemed that the young Hatsheptsut wanted none of that. Her question made him raise a brow; he hardly heard her.
“Speak clearly when you address me.”
Letting out a long, long sigh, Iahotep spoke again. “It seems to me that you are keen on being treated as a pet, my dear,” His tone was calm, relaxed even in spite of the dark desire within him to cross the space between him and gouge out her eyes. “Your behavior has told me that much,” Surely, she knew this? “You say you were trained to be queen your entire life, and yet when it is your time to show the results of this training, you resort to insolent and petulant behavior. You act more akin to a child than a queen, and a child will not rule beside me. If you are content with how you compose yourself, then I have no further use of you. You will bear my children and that is all because you have not proven you are anything but that.”
Everything made perfect sense to him. She was shocked he had treated her so, and yet, her actions indicated that was the only way she knew how to be treated. While he was sure she had never been slapped before, it didn’t make him feel even the tiniest twinge of regret for doing so. It was high time she learned her place. Whatever she had envisioned marriage to be like, it clearly was not him, though he did not care. She would conform herself to his will or he would make striking her all the more common. Frankly, he didn’t care if he had to beat her within an inch of her life if it meant that she would stop with her petulance and act like a woman.
And he would start now if need be.
Her monster of a husband looked at Tahira as if he wished that he could kill her. As if sensing his animosity, the caracal growled and bared her sharp teeth. “Shhhh,” Hatshepsut whispered, wrapping her arms around the feline's neck. The soft warmth of her fur was gentle against the young Queen's cheek, far more pleasant than the hard cold slap of Iahotep's hand.
His gaze turned from Tahira to her and if she had looked at him, she suspected that she would see lust in his eyes. Assaulting women probably aroused him. She began to tremble again, afraid that he might scoop her up and carry her to his bedchamber. Hatshepsut didn't want to go through that again, not so soon after the first time. She had sensed violence in him then, but he had not unleashed it on her. He had been rough, but not abusive.
Sometimes she enjoyed it rough with Osorsen. Their lovemaking was often boisterous and urgent after he had been away. But he had never hurt her and she knew that he never would. He was nothing like this man before her, unknown and brutal, who demanded she act in a manner not befitting the Queen of Egypt.
Hatshepsut did not repeat her statement, but she did raise her eyes to his. There was still a bit of defiance in them, but it was eclipsed by curiosity. He had heard her whisper and chose to reply, claiming that she had no idea how to act like a Queen and was no more than an obnoxious child. He was so much older that she doubted he would see her as a woman no matter how she behaved. He didn't want a woman anyway. He wanted an obedient slave.
No matter what he said, Hatshepshut didn't think that he intended for her to rule beside him. Not the way she interpreted those words. He would rather her stand at his side and be silent while he issued orders and decrees. She should agree with him in all things and never give him her honest opinion. Iahotep acted exactly like what he was: a commoner who had just been given great power. It was his and his alone, and he didn't want to share it with anyone.
She had been trained to support her Pharaoh, to guide him and give him advice, and to lighten his load by taking on some of his duties herself. He was supposed to trust her, respect her, and listen to her. That was what her training had taught her … that they would be a team, and one would not dominate the other. They would each have their own strengths. Hers was diplomacy while his would be military expertise.
Yet all that had been turned upside down now. Iahotep saw her as worthless and spoiled, good for nothing but bearing children. Maybe she would have to prove herself to him, a task that didn't really appeal to her at the moment. Still, she had to try for the sake of her kingdom.
“You truly wish me to rule with you?” she asked, her eyes wide and innocent. “That was what I was taught to do. I think that we do not share the same definition of that term. Will you ask me for my advice and listen to what I have to say? Will you take my suggestions seriously because I have lived as a royal much longer than you have? Or do you wish me to do nothing but agree to everything you decide and obey you in all things?”
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Her monster of a husband looked at Tahira as if he wished that he could kill her. As if sensing his animosity, the caracal growled and bared her sharp teeth. “Shhhh,” Hatshepsut whispered, wrapping her arms around the feline's neck. The soft warmth of her fur was gentle against the young Queen's cheek, far more pleasant than the hard cold slap of Iahotep's hand.
His gaze turned from Tahira to her and if she had looked at him, she suspected that she would see lust in his eyes. Assaulting women probably aroused him. She began to tremble again, afraid that he might scoop her up and carry her to his bedchamber. Hatshepsut didn't want to go through that again, not so soon after the first time. She had sensed violence in him then, but he had not unleashed it on her. He had been rough, but not abusive.
Sometimes she enjoyed it rough with Osorsen. Their lovemaking was often boisterous and urgent after he had been away. But he had never hurt her and she knew that he never would. He was nothing like this man before her, unknown and brutal, who demanded she act in a manner not befitting the Queen of Egypt.
Hatshepsut did not repeat her statement, but she did raise her eyes to his. There was still a bit of defiance in them, but it was eclipsed by curiosity. He had heard her whisper and chose to reply, claiming that she had no idea how to act like a Queen and was no more than an obnoxious child. He was so much older that she doubted he would see her as a woman no matter how she behaved. He didn't want a woman anyway. He wanted an obedient slave.
No matter what he said, Hatshepshut didn't think that he intended for her to rule beside him. Not the way she interpreted those words. He would rather her stand at his side and be silent while he issued orders and decrees. She should agree with him in all things and never give him her honest opinion. Iahotep acted exactly like what he was: a commoner who had just been given great power. It was his and his alone, and he didn't want to share it with anyone.
She had been trained to support her Pharaoh, to guide him and give him advice, and to lighten his load by taking on some of his duties herself. He was supposed to trust her, respect her, and listen to her. That was what her training had taught her … that they would be a team, and one would not dominate the other. They would each have their own strengths. Hers was diplomacy while his would be military expertise.
Yet all that had been turned upside down now. Iahotep saw her as worthless and spoiled, good for nothing but bearing children. Maybe she would have to prove herself to him, a task that didn't really appeal to her at the moment. Still, she had to try for the sake of her kingdom.
“You truly wish me to rule with you?” she asked, her eyes wide and innocent. “That was what I was taught to do. I think that we do not share the same definition of that term. Will you ask me for my advice and listen to what I have to say? Will you take my suggestions seriously because I have lived as a royal much longer than you have? Or do you wish me to do nothing but agree to everything you decide and obey you in all things?”
Her monster of a husband looked at Tahira as if he wished that he could kill her. As if sensing his animosity, the caracal growled and bared her sharp teeth. “Shhhh,” Hatshepsut whispered, wrapping her arms around the feline's neck. The soft warmth of her fur was gentle against the young Queen's cheek, far more pleasant than the hard cold slap of Iahotep's hand.
His gaze turned from Tahira to her and if she had looked at him, she suspected that she would see lust in his eyes. Assaulting women probably aroused him. She began to tremble again, afraid that he might scoop her up and carry her to his bedchamber. Hatshepsut didn't want to go through that again, not so soon after the first time. She had sensed violence in him then, but he had not unleashed it on her. He had been rough, but not abusive.
Sometimes she enjoyed it rough with Osorsen. Their lovemaking was often boisterous and urgent after he had been away. But he had never hurt her and she knew that he never would. He was nothing like this man before her, unknown and brutal, who demanded she act in a manner not befitting the Queen of Egypt.
Hatshepsut did not repeat her statement, but she did raise her eyes to his. There was still a bit of defiance in them, but it was eclipsed by curiosity. He had heard her whisper and chose to reply, claiming that she had no idea how to act like a Queen and was no more than an obnoxious child. He was so much older that she doubted he would see her as a woman no matter how she behaved. He didn't want a woman anyway. He wanted an obedient slave.
No matter what he said, Hatshepshut didn't think that he intended for her to rule beside him. Not the way she interpreted those words. He would rather her stand at his side and be silent while he issued orders and decrees. She should agree with him in all things and never give him her honest opinion. Iahotep acted exactly like what he was: a commoner who had just been given great power. It was his and his alone, and he didn't want to share it with anyone.
She had been trained to support her Pharaoh, to guide him and give him advice, and to lighten his load by taking on some of his duties herself. He was supposed to trust her, respect her, and listen to her. That was what her training had taught her … that they would be a team, and one would not dominate the other. They would each have their own strengths. Hers was diplomacy while his would be military expertise.
Yet all that had been turned upside down now. Iahotep saw her as worthless and spoiled, good for nothing but bearing children. Maybe she would have to prove herself to him, a task that didn't really appeal to her at the moment. Still, she had to try for the sake of her kingdom.
“You truly wish me to rule with you?” she asked, her eyes wide and innocent. “That was what I was taught to do. I think that we do not share the same definition of that term. Will you ask me for my advice and listen to what I have to say? Will you take my suggestions seriously because I have lived as a royal much longer than you have? Or do you wish me to do nothing but agree to everything you decide and obey you in all things?”
What ever was he going to do with this child?
She seemed confused, very confused on how this was going to work. Already, she demanded his respect after doing nothing but showing him she did not deserve it. He needed to make himself plain to her. She may have been born to be a Queen, but that did not mean she deserved anything from him. Perhaps she thought his common birth meant she would be able to simply demand what she willed from him, be it respect or otherwise. He would not ask her, because in the end it did not matter. Already, he had shown her what that kind of thinking would get her.
Nothing.
As he maintained his gaze on her, he began to wonder if striking her had been necessary. Hmm. It was true that there were other ways he could have gone about correcting her, though they seemed to be ineffective in comparison to simply using force. What was he to do? tell her to respect him? That was a laughable thought, since she clearly believed he deserved nothing but her contempt. No. There had been only one course of action that was appropriate and that was showing her his prowess. She would respect him or she would fear him -- it made no difference in his eyes. Whatever path she took, it would be one that would teach her never to open her mouth like that again.
Her questions made him chuckle slightly. Already bold. Perhaps if he had no already corrected her he would do so again. Not that it was necessary, no, the urge was nothing more than that -- something borne of his sadistic desires. If all went well, he would never need to raise a hand to her again outside of the bedchamber. Oh, she still needed to learn how to service him properly, but that would come later. Much, much later.
Iahotep raised a brow at the young queen, fully intending for her to question her choice of words. “Is that not what I said, my Queen?” He inquired flatly, “or did I perhaps strike you too roughly? Have you lost your hearing?” Oh, this child would be the death of him. “You will come to find, young Hatshepsut, that I do not enjoy vapid women. Everyone must prove their worth to me, even you. If you truly wish for me to seek your council, to even see value in your council, you must earn it. And what a poor job you have done, my dear,” he shook his head slightly. “Simply being a royal is not enough. But you have no interest in ruling beide me, clearly. You would prefer to be treated as a child. That, my dear, I can assure you will be done.”
He looked her over once again. “I know precisely what the term means, my Queen. And I know you have yet to meet my expectations for the role. You will either prove that you are truly a Queen, or I will have you put out of the way so you cannot embarrass me with your childish behavior.” He spoke casually, as though that had been his plan all along.
“I am sure you are opposed to this, so I will ask you once; What will you do to change my mind?”
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What ever was he going to do with this child?
She seemed confused, very confused on how this was going to work. Already, she demanded his respect after doing nothing but showing him she did not deserve it. He needed to make himself plain to her. She may have been born to be a Queen, but that did not mean she deserved anything from him. Perhaps she thought his common birth meant she would be able to simply demand what she willed from him, be it respect or otherwise. He would not ask her, because in the end it did not matter. Already, he had shown her what that kind of thinking would get her.
Nothing.
As he maintained his gaze on her, he began to wonder if striking her had been necessary. Hmm. It was true that there were other ways he could have gone about correcting her, though they seemed to be ineffective in comparison to simply using force. What was he to do? tell her to respect him? That was a laughable thought, since she clearly believed he deserved nothing but her contempt. No. There had been only one course of action that was appropriate and that was showing her his prowess. She would respect him or she would fear him -- it made no difference in his eyes. Whatever path she took, it would be one that would teach her never to open her mouth like that again.
Her questions made him chuckle slightly. Already bold. Perhaps if he had no already corrected her he would do so again. Not that it was necessary, no, the urge was nothing more than that -- something borne of his sadistic desires. If all went well, he would never need to raise a hand to her again outside of the bedchamber. Oh, she still needed to learn how to service him properly, but that would come later. Much, much later.
Iahotep raised a brow at the young queen, fully intending for her to question her choice of words. “Is that not what I said, my Queen?” He inquired flatly, “or did I perhaps strike you too roughly? Have you lost your hearing?” Oh, this child would be the death of him. “You will come to find, young Hatshepsut, that I do not enjoy vapid women. Everyone must prove their worth to me, even you. If you truly wish for me to seek your council, to even see value in your council, you must earn it. And what a poor job you have done, my dear,” he shook his head slightly. “Simply being a royal is not enough. But you have no interest in ruling beide me, clearly. You would prefer to be treated as a child. That, my dear, I can assure you will be done.”
He looked her over once again. “I know precisely what the term means, my Queen. And I know you have yet to meet my expectations for the role. You will either prove that you are truly a Queen, or I will have you put out of the way so you cannot embarrass me with your childish behavior.” He spoke casually, as though that had been his plan all along.
“I am sure you are opposed to this, so I will ask you once; What will you do to change my mind?”
What ever was he going to do with this child?
She seemed confused, very confused on how this was going to work. Already, she demanded his respect after doing nothing but showing him she did not deserve it. He needed to make himself plain to her. She may have been born to be a Queen, but that did not mean she deserved anything from him. Perhaps she thought his common birth meant she would be able to simply demand what she willed from him, be it respect or otherwise. He would not ask her, because in the end it did not matter. Already, he had shown her what that kind of thinking would get her.
Nothing.
As he maintained his gaze on her, he began to wonder if striking her had been necessary. Hmm. It was true that there were other ways he could have gone about correcting her, though they seemed to be ineffective in comparison to simply using force. What was he to do? tell her to respect him? That was a laughable thought, since she clearly believed he deserved nothing but her contempt. No. There had been only one course of action that was appropriate and that was showing her his prowess. She would respect him or she would fear him -- it made no difference in his eyes. Whatever path she took, it would be one that would teach her never to open her mouth like that again.
Her questions made him chuckle slightly. Already bold. Perhaps if he had no already corrected her he would do so again. Not that it was necessary, no, the urge was nothing more than that -- something borne of his sadistic desires. If all went well, he would never need to raise a hand to her again outside of the bedchamber. Oh, she still needed to learn how to service him properly, but that would come later. Much, much later.
Iahotep raised a brow at the young queen, fully intending for her to question her choice of words. “Is that not what I said, my Queen?” He inquired flatly, “or did I perhaps strike you too roughly? Have you lost your hearing?” Oh, this child would be the death of him. “You will come to find, young Hatshepsut, that I do not enjoy vapid women. Everyone must prove their worth to me, even you. If you truly wish for me to seek your council, to even see value in your council, you must earn it. And what a poor job you have done, my dear,” he shook his head slightly. “Simply being a royal is not enough. But you have no interest in ruling beide me, clearly. You would prefer to be treated as a child. That, my dear, I can assure you will be done.”
He looked her over once again. “I know precisely what the term means, my Queen. And I know you have yet to meet my expectations for the role. You will either prove that you are truly a Queen, or I will have you put out of the way so you cannot embarrass me with your childish behavior.” He spoke casually, as though that had been his plan all along.
“I am sure you are opposed to this, so I will ask you once; What will you do to change my mind?”
Iahotep's derisive chuckle hurt Hatshepsut as much as that blow to her cheek. He was laughing at her! At her, the Queen of all Egypt! How dare he, crude commoner that he was, ridicule her in any fashion! Her mother would tear him apart for such insolence. If only she was as strong and as experienced emotionally as Isetheperu. He would never criticize her again. But she was not her mother, and to him, no matter what she said or did, she would always be a young girl who had turned sixteen on the day of their wedding.
Again, she wondered if he was attempting to frighten her into compliance so that she would never be a threat to his power. She knew he cared as little for her as she did for him and had only wed her for the prominence it would bring him. Why had the gods not stopped him from taking the throne that should have been Osorsen's? Why were they allowing her to be physically and mentally abused? She was supposed to be favored by them, but if this was the way they showed their approval, she would rather that they hate her.
Then again, she had always been told that the gods never gave their subjects any task that they could not handle. Maybe she was being tested, to see if she was worthy of their regard. Had her father gone through a similar trial when he was newly crowned Pharaoh? Hatshepsut wished she could ask him but he had died before she was old enough to even consider such things.
If the gods were testing her, then she would have to prove herself to them … by proving herself to Iahotep. She didn't want to do it; she didn't think she should have to. Any other man elevated to Pharaoh by marriage her would have accepted her for who she was, but Iahotep was determined to hate her, for no reason other than that she existed. And maybe because I did not respond to him last night. Could that be all he wanted … for her to enjoy sex with him? She could pretend, she supposed. No, even feigning desire would betray my love for Osorsen.
The hand that wasn't stroking Tahira's soft brown fur gingerly touched her stinging cheek when he surmised that he had struck her so hard that she had lost her hearing. Yes, he had stuck her too hard; he should not have hit her at all. Iahotep didn't seem the least bit sorry that he had done so, and the young Queen feared that his abuse would be frequent if she didn't become his humble little slave. And he dared call her vapid? She knew she was highly intelligent and most likely more astute than he was. But she was young, as he was so fond of pointing out, and was just beginning to learn how to use it.
So she was right and he wanted her to earn his respect, which he clearly didn't think she deserved. Hatshepsut suppressed another shiver as his eyes roamed over her again. Would he really listen to her council and let her rule beside him if she proved that she wasn't the spoiled child he thought she was? Or was he just trying to control her, to break her down until she believed that she was truly worthless? Well, she wouldn't let him that satisfaction … or any other. And she wouldn't allow him to lock her away either.
The petite Queen straightened her spine, her dark gaze meeting his unflinchingly. “I am not opposed to showing you the results of my training.” Confidence colored her lyrical voice. Her mother and Zoser had taught her well and she knew her husband wouldn't be disappointed in her ability to rule. “Give me some responsibility and I will prove to you that I am worthy of a place by your side.”
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Iahotep's derisive chuckle hurt Hatshepsut as much as that blow to her cheek. He was laughing at her! At her, the Queen of all Egypt! How dare he, crude commoner that he was, ridicule her in any fashion! Her mother would tear him apart for such insolence. If only she was as strong and as experienced emotionally as Isetheperu. He would never criticize her again. But she was not her mother, and to him, no matter what she said or did, she would always be a young girl who had turned sixteen on the day of their wedding.
Again, she wondered if he was attempting to frighten her into compliance so that she would never be a threat to his power. She knew he cared as little for her as she did for him and had only wed her for the prominence it would bring him. Why had the gods not stopped him from taking the throne that should have been Osorsen's? Why were they allowing her to be physically and mentally abused? She was supposed to be favored by them, but if this was the way they showed their approval, she would rather that they hate her.
Then again, she had always been told that the gods never gave their subjects any task that they could not handle. Maybe she was being tested, to see if she was worthy of their regard. Had her father gone through a similar trial when he was newly crowned Pharaoh? Hatshepsut wished she could ask him but he had died before she was old enough to even consider such things.
If the gods were testing her, then she would have to prove herself to them … by proving herself to Iahotep. She didn't want to do it; she didn't think she should have to. Any other man elevated to Pharaoh by marriage her would have accepted her for who she was, but Iahotep was determined to hate her, for no reason other than that she existed. And maybe because I did not respond to him last night. Could that be all he wanted … for her to enjoy sex with him? She could pretend, she supposed. No, even feigning desire would betray my love for Osorsen.
The hand that wasn't stroking Tahira's soft brown fur gingerly touched her stinging cheek when he surmised that he had struck her so hard that she had lost her hearing. Yes, he had stuck her too hard; he should not have hit her at all. Iahotep didn't seem the least bit sorry that he had done so, and the young Queen feared that his abuse would be frequent if she didn't become his humble little slave. And he dared call her vapid? She knew she was highly intelligent and most likely more astute than he was. But she was young, as he was so fond of pointing out, and was just beginning to learn how to use it.
So she was right and he wanted her to earn his respect, which he clearly didn't think she deserved. Hatshepsut suppressed another shiver as his eyes roamed over her again. Would he really listen to her council and let her rule beside him if she proved that she wasn't the spoiled child he thought she was? Or was he just trying to control her, to break her down until she believed that she was truly worthless? Well, she wouldn't let him that satisfaction … or any other. And she wouldn't allow him to lock her away either.
The petite Queen straightened her spine, her dark gaze meeting his unflinchingly. “I am not opposed to showing you the results of my training.” Confidence colored her lyrical voice. Her mother and Zoser had taught her well and she knew her husband wouldn't be disappointed in her ability to rule. “Give me some responsibility and I will prove to you that I am worthy of a place by your side.”
Iahotep's derisive chuckle hurt Hatshepsut as much as that blow to her cheek. He was laughing at her! At her, the Queen of all Egypt! How dare he, crude commoner that he was, ridicule her in any fashion! Her mother would tear him apart for such insolence. If only she was as strong and as experienced emotionally as Isetheperu. He would never criticize her again. But she was not her mother, and to him, no matter what she said or did, she would always be a young girl who had turned sixteen on the day of their wedding.
Again, she wondered if he was attempting to frighten her into compliance so that she would never be a threat to his power. She knew he cared as little for her as she did for him and had only wed her for the prominence it would bring him. Why had the gods not stopped him from taking the throne that should have been Osorsen's? Why were they allowing her to be physically and mentally abused? She was supposed to be favored by them, but if this was the way they showed their approval, she would rather that they hate her.
Then again, she had always been told that the gods never gave their subjects any task that they could not handle. Maybe she was being tested, to see if she was worthy of their regard. Had her father gone through a similar trial when he was newly crowned Pharaoh? Hatshepsut wished she could ask him but he had died before she was old enough to even consider such things.
If the gods were testing her, then she would have to prove herself to them … by proving herself to Iahotep. She didn't want to do it; she didn't think she should have to. Any other man elevated to Pharaoh by marriage her would have accepted her for who she was, but Iahotep was determined to hate her, for no reason other than that she existed. And maybe because I did not respond to him last night. Could that be all he wanted … for her to enjoy sex with him? She could pretend, she supposed. No, even feigning desire would betray my love for Osorsen.
The hand that wasn't stroking Tahira's soft brown fur gingerly touched her stinging cheek when he surmised that he had struck her so hard that she had lost her hearing. Yes, he had stuck her too hard; he should not have hit her at all. Iahotep didn't seem the least bit sorry that he had done so, and the young Queen feared that his abuse would be frequent if she didn't become his humble little slave. And he dared call her vapid? She knew she was highly intelligent and most likely more astute than he was. But she was young, as he was so fond of pointing out, and was just beginning to learn how to use it.
So she was right and he wanted her to earn his respect, which he clearly didn't think she deserved. Hatshepsut suppressed another shiver as his eyes roamed over her again. Would he really listen to her council and let her rule beside him if she proved that she wasn't the spoiled child he thought she was? Or was he just trying to control her, to break her down until she believed that she was truly worthless? Well, she wouldn't let him that satisfaction … or any other. And she wouldn't allow him to lock her away either.
The petite Queen straightened her spine, her dark gaze meeting his unflinchingly. “I am not opposed to showing you the results of my training.” Confidence colored her lyrical voice. Her mother and Zoser had taught her well and she knew her husband wouldn't be disappointed in her ability to rule. “Give me some responsibility and I will prove to you that I am worthy of a place by your side.”
“I am honored that Her Evening Radiance is not opposed to doing her duty.” Iahotep did not attempt to hide the amusement in his eyes, nor his snort at this eagerness of his wife. Her actions merely proved to him that she lacked the foresight to understand what he was truly asking. The confidence in her tone was borne of youthful arrogance and a will to defy him in anyway possible, he was sure of it. She could not honestly believe that earning a place by his side would be as simple as being merely given some responsibility. He rolled his eyes slowly as he caressed Isis’ cheek. “Slaves are given some responsibility,” he said flatly, “however, if you are content with being given any responsibility, I can direct you to the kitchens. They seem to be dreadfully slow with this breakfast.”
“What you fail to understand, my Queen,” he began, idly glancing at the door, “is that earning your place is not simply done by completing tasks. It will be part of your journey to proving your competence to me, yes, but there is always more. When you complete the task I choose to give to you, all you have proven is that you are a woman who can follow orders. Wonderful. There are many women at my disposal who can follow orders,” he looked upon her with mild disinterest “My Queen must be able to do more than simply do as I command her to. She must complement me with intelligence, grace, and an unwavering ability to do what is necessary without fear or hesitation; I quality I highly doubt you possess.”
Again, he found himself looking her over. How would she take his demeaning words? Cry? He quite liked the idea of making her cry -- in pain or in pleasure, it made no difference to him. The idea of making her bend to his will was an attractive one, though that would need to wait. If he had his way in all things, he and Hatshepsut would never have needed to have this conversation. She would defer to him as was her place, bear his children, and rule by his side without all of this back talk.
Truly, what he saw was a girl, a foolish girl who thought she was ready for him. Who thought she could defy him without consequence and have a place by his side reserved for her simply because she was born a royal. Pathetic. She would be nothing more than mother of his heirs if he wished it so. Surely, she realized this? Or perhaps him sharing his very serious plans of having her put away had not resonated with her.
Before he had the chance to say more to her, the servants finally came. Irritation consumed his face. Another interruption. Lovely. Still, he said nothing at the breakfast was laid out before them. He did not care to look at what was placed before him, too concerned with ridding the room of the servants’ presence as quickly as possible. Luckily for his temper, they did not take nearly as long as they had delivering the meal. He raised a hand to formally dismiss them -- there would be no one in this room save for he and his...queen. Iahotep with drew his touch from Isis and rested his hands on the table. He stared at her intently before he spoke. “Well, girl, what say you?”
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“I am honored that Her Evening Radiance is not opposed to doing her duty.” Iahotep did not attempt to hide the amusement in his eyes, nor his snort at this eagerness of his wife. Her actions merely proved to him that she lacked the foresight to understand what he was truly asking. The confidence in her tone was borne of youthful arrogance and a will to defy him in anyway possible, he was sure of it. She could not honestly believe that earning a place by his side would be as simple as being merely given some responsibility. He rolled his eyes slowly as he caressed Isis’ cheek. “Slaves are given some responsibility,” he said flatly, “however, if you are content with being given any responsibility, I can direct you to the kitchens. They seem to be dreadfully slow with this breakfast.”
“What you fail to understand, my Queen,” he began, idly glancing at the door, “is that earning your place is not simply done by completing tasks. It will be part of your journey to proving your competence to me, yes, but there is always more. When you complete the task I choose to give to you, all you have proven is that you are a woman who can follow orders. Wonderful. There are many women at my disposal who can follow orders,” he looked upon her with mild disinterest “My Queen must be able to do more than simply do as I command her to. She must complement me with intelligence, grace, and an unwavering ability to do what is necessary without fear or hesitation; I quality I highly doubt you possess.”
Again, he found himself looking her over. How would she take his demeaning words? Cry? He quite liked the idea of making her cry -- in pain or in pleasure, it made no difference to him. The idea of making her bend to his will was an attractive one, though that would need to wait. If he had his way in all things, he and Hatshepsut would never have needed to have this conversation. She would defer to him as was her place, bear his children, and rule by his side without all of this back talk.
Truly, what he saw was a girl, a foolish girl who thought she was ready for him. Who thought she could defy him without consequence and have a place by his side reserved for her simply because she was born a royal. Pathetic. She would be nothing more than mother of his heirs if he wished it so. Surely, she realized this? Or perhaps him sharing his very serious plans of having her put away had not resonated with her.
Before he had the chance to say more to her, the servants finally came. Irritation consumed his face. Another interruption. Lovely. Still, he said nothing at the breakfast was laid out before them. He did not care to look at what was placed before him, too concerned with ridding the room of the servants’ presence as quickly as possible. Luckily for his temper, they did not take nearly as long as they had delivering the meal. He raised a hand to formally dismiss them -- there would be no one in this room save for he and his...queen. Iahotep with drew his touch from Isis and rested his hands on the table. He stared at her intently before he spoke. “Well, girl, what say you?”
“I am honored that Her Evening Radiance is not opposed to doing her duty.” Iahotep did not attempt to hide the amusement in his eyes, nor his snort at this eagerness of his wife. Her actions merely proved to him that she lacked the foresight to understand what he was truly asking. The confidence in her tone was borne of youthful arrogance and a will to defy him in anyway possible, he was sure of it. She could not honestly believe that earning a place by his side would be as simple as being merely given some responsibility. He rolled his eyes slowly as he caressed Isis’ cheek. “Slaves are given some responsibility,” he said flatly, “however, if you are content with being given any responsibility, I can direct you to the kitchens. They seem to be dreadfully slow with this breakfast.”
“What you fail to understand, my Queen,” he began, idly glancing at the door, “is that earning your place is not simply done by completing tasks. It will be part of your journey to proving your competence to me, yes, but there is always more. When you complete the task I choose to give to you, all you have proven is that you are a woman who can follow orders. Wonderful. There are many women at my disposal who can follow orders,” he looked upon her with mild disinterest “My Queen must be able to do more than simply do as I command her to. She must complement me with intelligence, grace, and an unwavering ability to do what is necessary without fear or hesitation; I quality I highly doubt you possess.”
Again, he found himself looking her over. How would she take his demeaning words? Cry? He quite liked the idea of making her cry -- in pain or in pleasure, it made no difference to him. The idea of making her bend to his will was an attractive one, though that would need to wait. If he had his way in all things, he and Hatshepsut would never have needed to have this conversation. She would defer to him as was her place, bear his children, and rule by his side without all of this back talk.
Truly, what he saw was a girl, a foolish girl who thought she was ready for him. Who thought she could defy him without consequence and have a place by his side reserved for her simply because she was born a royal. Pathetic. She would be nothing more than mother of his heirs if he wished it so. Surely, she realized this? Or perhaps him sharing his very serious plans of having her put away had not resonated with her.
Before he had the chance to say more to her, the servants finally came. Irritation consumed his face. Another interruption. Lovely. Still, he said nothing at the breakfast was laid out before them. He did not care to look at what was placed before him, too concerned with ridding the room of the servants’ presence as quickly as possible. Luckily for his temper, they did not take nearly as long as they had delivering the meal. He raised a hand to formally dismiss them -- there would be no one in this room save for he and his...queen. Iahotep with drew his touch from Isis and rested his hands on the table. He stared at her intently before he spoke. “Well, girl, what say you?”
Either he chose to twist her words around so that they meant what he wanted to hear or he was unwilling to change his opinion of her. How infuriating he was … and how unfair. Was he still angry about her lack of emotion last night? Was that truly what this was all about? She had disappointed him in bed and so now he was going to make her life miserable to the end of her days? Hatshepsut wouldn't put such pettiness past him. Surely a man who was so experienced and worldly as Iahotep claimed to be would know that beating and insulting one's wife was not the way to entice her into his bed.
He had … either accidentally or on purpose … misunderstood her request for responsibility. She wasn’t asking to be given a task that any household slave could do. Hatshepsut wanted him to test her ability to rule … to mediate a dispute or make a decision that would benefit the entire kingdom. That was what she had been taught to do. Though she wasn’t comfortable asserting her authority because of her shyness, she could do it when called upon.
Which Iahotep wasn’t doing. Why? It suddenly dawned on her that maybe he didn’t know what to ask of her because he himself was ignorant on how to rule Egypt. He’d been Pharaoh for less than a day. Governing a kingdom was nothing like leading an army. All he knew was military strategy and issuing orders. Maybe he was insulting her because he couldn’t stand the fact that she, a young girl who had only turned sixteen yesterday, was more capable of ruling Egypt than he, a man more than twice her age.
He could be trying to intimidate her into losing all confidence in herself. Generally, that wasn’t too difficult. Living in the shadow of her formidable mother, she had always felt inadequate. There was nothing gentle and demure about Isetheperu. She ruled with an iron fist and didn’t let her feelings in the way. In fact, it sounded as if Iahotep would rather have married the mother instead of the daughter. Or was he in league with her, trying to push the gentle Queen to be more assertive and self-reliant?
And indeed, she felt that way now. A quiet strength that she had not known she possessed took hold of her mind. Hatshepsut was absolutely certain that she could prove herself to her husband . She would face this challenge head on and he would be impressed. No tears hovered in the corners of her eyes and her mouth did not quiver. She held his gaze without blinking and she continued to caress Tahira’s fur as if nothing was amiss. She was considering how to answer him when the door opened and slaves carried in golden platters full of food, setting it on the table between the newlyweds. Hatshepsut sensed Iahotep’s annoyance at their interruption.
When he raised his hand to dismiss them, the servants looked to her and did not leave until she nodded her assent. They were accustomed to obeying her, not the man who had just become their Pharaoh. Had he noticed? Would he punish them? She would have to make sure that they did not suffer on her account. A subtle smile played across her lips for a brief moment and then she looked down at the food. She had not thought that she would be able to eat, but she realized that she was quite hungry.
Plucking a pomegranate from the tray, she cut off the end with a small knife, glancing up at her husband as she split the fruit open, revealing its sweet and juicy seeds. “I bow to your superior knowledge and experience, my Pharaoh." Her words sounded sincere and humble. "There is much I can learn from you.” Hatshepsut held one half of the pomegranate out to him. “I am yours to mold into what you wish me to be. Teach me what I need to know so that our reign will be remembered as one of the most successful in Egypt's history."
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Either he chose to twist her words around so that they meant what he wanted to hear or he was unwilling to change his opinion of her. How infuriating he was … and how unfair. Was he still angry about her lack of emotion last night? Was that truly what this was all about? She had disappointed him in bed and so now he was going to make her life miserable to the end of her days? Hatshepsut wouldn't put such pettiness past him. Surely a man who was so experienced and worldly as Iahotep claimed to be would know that beating and insulting one's wife was not the way to entice her into his bed.
He had … either accidentally or on purpose … misunderstood her request for responsibility. She wasn’t asking to be given a task that any household slave could do. Hatshepsut wanted him to test her ability to rule … to mediate a dispute or make a decision that would benefit the entire kingdom. That was what she had been taught to do. Though she wasn’t comfortable asserting her authority because of her shyness, she could do it when called upon.
Which Iahotep wasn’t doing. Why? It suddenly dawned on her that maybe he didn’t know what to ask of her because he himself was ignorant on how to rule Egypt. He’d been Pharaoh for less than a day. Governing a kingdom was nothing like leading an army. All he knew was military strategy and issuing orders. Maybe he was insulting her because he couldn’t stand the fact that she, a young girl who had only turned sixteen yesterday, was more capable of ruling Egypt than he, a man more than twice her age.
He could be trying to intimidate her into losing all confidence in herself. Generally, that wasn’t too difficult. Living in the shadow of her formidable mother, she had always felt inadequate. There was nothing gentle and demure about Isetheperu. She ruled with an iron fist and didn’t let her feelings in the way. In fact, it sounded as if Iahotep would rather have married the mother instead of the daughter. Or was he in league with her, trying to push the gentle Queen to be more assertive and self-reliant?
And indeed, she felt that way now. A quiet strength that she had not known she possessed took hold of her mind. Hatshepsut was absolutely certain that she could prove herself to her husband . She would face this challenge head on and he would be impressed. No tears hovered in the corners of her eyes and her mouth did not quiver. She held his gaze without blinking and she continued to caress Tahira’s fur as if nothing was amiss. She was considering how to answer him when the door opened and slaves carried in golden platters full of food, setting it on the table between the newlyweds. Hatshepsut sensed Iahotep’s annoyance at their interruption.
When he raised his hand to dismiss them, the servants looked to her and did not leave until she nodded her assent. They were accustomed to obeying her, not the man who had just become their Pharaoh. Had he noticed? Would he punish them? She would have to make sure that they did not suffer on her account. A subtle smile played across her lips for a brief moment and then she looked down at the food. She had not thought that she would be able to eat, but she realized that she was quite hungry.
Plucking a pomegranate from the tray, she cut off the end with a small knife, glancing up at her husband as she split the fruit open, revealing its sweet and juicy seeds. “I bow to your superior knowledge and experience, my Pharaoh." Her words sounded sincere and humble. "There is much I can learn from you.” Hatshepsut held one half of the pomegranate out to him. “I am yours to mold into what you wish me to be. Teach me what I need to know so that our reign will be remembered as one of the most successful in Egypt's history."
Either he chose to twist her words around so that they meant what he wanted to hear or he was unwilling to change his opinion of her. How infuriating he was … and how unfair. Was he still angry about her lack of emotion last night? Was that truly what this was all about? She had disappointed him in bed and so now he was going to make her life miserable to the end of her days? Hatshepsut wouldn't put such pettiness past him. Surely a man who was so experienced and worldly as Iahotep claimed to be would know that beating and insulting one's wife was not the way to entice her into his bed.
He had … either accidentally or on purpose … misunderstood her request for responsibility. She wasn’t asking to be given a task that any household slave could do. Hatshepsut wanted him to test her ability to rule … to mediate a dispute or make a decision that would benefit the entire kingdom. That was what she had been taught to do. Though she wasn’t comfortable asserting her authority because of her shyness, she could do it when called upon.
Which Iahotep wasn’t doing. Why? It suddenly dawned on her that maybe he didn’t know what to ask of her because he himself was ignorant on how to rule Egypt. He’d been Pharaoh for less than a day. Governing a kingdom was nothing like leading an army. All he knew was military strategy and issuing orders. Maybe he was insulting her because he couldn’t stand the fact that she, a young girl who had only turned sixteen yesterday, was more capable of ruling Egypt than he, a man more than twice her age.
He could be trying to intimidate her into losing all confidence in herself. Generally, that wasn’t too difficult. Living in the shadow of her formidable mother, she had always felt inadequate. There was nothing gentle and demure about Isetheperu. She ruled with an iron fist and didn’t let her feelings in the way. In fact, it sounded as if Iahotep would rather have married the mother instead of the daughter. Or was he in league with her, trying to push the gentle Queen to be more assertive and self-reliant?
And indeed, she felt that way now. A quiet strength that she had not known she possessed took hold of her mind. Hatshepsut was absolutely certain that she could prove herself to her husband . She would face this challenge head on and he would be impressed. No tears hovered in the corners of her eyes and her mouth did not quiver. She held his gaze without blinking and she continued to caress Tahira’s fur as if nothing was amiss. She was considering how to answer him when the door opened and slaves carried in golden platters full of food, setting it on the table between the newlyweds. Hatshepsut sensed Iahotep’s annoyance at their interruption.
When he raised his hand to dismiss them, the servants looked to her and did not leave until she nodded her assent. They were accustomed to obeying her, not the man who had just become their Pharaoh. Had he noticed? Would he punish them? She would have to make sure that they did not suffer on her account. A subtle smile played across her lips for a brief moment and then she looked down at the food. She had not thought that she would be able to eat, but she realized that she was quite hungry.
Plucking a pomegranate from the tray, she cut off the end with a small knife, glancing up at her husband as she split the fruit open, revealing its sweet and juicy seeds. “I bow to your superior knowledge and experience, my Pharaoh." Her words sounded sincere and humble. "There is much I can learn from you.” Hatshepsut held one half of the pomegranate out to him. “I am yours to mold into what you wish me to be. Teach me what I need to know so that our reign will be remembered as one of the most successful in Egypt's history."
He had most certainly noticed how the servants awaited her approval before they left the newlyweds be. If it were possible for him to be more incensed, he would be, but servants were a small matter in the face of this queen of his. They would fear him soon enough but would she? Did she understand the dark temptation swirling in his head to cause her indescribable pain? To beat her beyond recognition? No. Clearly she did not, for she would never have dared to be so bold with him. Insolent child. He had much work to do if he was to make any use of her, or, in failing to find any, keep her out of his way.
Iahotep’s scathing gaze remained on her as she spoke. He did not speak to her, nor did his expression change in any meaningful way to indicate what he thought of her words. Oh, there was much he could have said, but it all seemed insufficient in the face of simply staring at her in silence. When she offered half of her pomegranate to him, his gaze didn’t even shift from her face to acknowledge what she had done. What, exactly, did she think this was? What did she think he was? Hatshepsut would learn that he was not so easily appeased. One did not insult his merit and then offer a pomegranate to him as though they could be friends. Fool. Something akin to a harsh scoff left him.
Truly, she could have said anything to him in that moment and his reaction would have been the exact same. Silent fury. People were all, invariably, liars and the queen as no different. Who was to say she did not offer him these words because she feared he might retaliate against her once more? His expression was a deep seated scowl for the remainder of their meal together. Between scowling at her, Iahotep would occasionally eat something from his plate, and a scrap would be offered to Isis when she asked for it by butting his hand with her head, but it was abundantly clear he had no interest in eating.
Eventually, however, he found himself growing increasingly irritated by simply being in her presence. The temptation to harm her returned, but he quelled it. There would be time enough to unleash his anger on a woman. The fact that it could not be this woman was infuriating but what else was there to do? He knew well enough that if he crossed the space between them again to strike her, she would not survive his wrath. Even if she was the most ungrateful, most pettish fool he had ever come across, she was his queen, and, more importantly, the reason he was legally the pharaoh. The machinations to get him here were not her own and he, frankly, doubted she had the capacity to go to lengths her mother had and would continue to do.
Enough.
Enough of her.
Abruptly, he pushed his chair from underneath the table with a startled Isis stumbling to her paws. His hands clutched the edge of the table tightly as he breathed heavily through his nose. Whether it was a moment of restraining himself or contemplating his next words didn’t matter to the newly crowned King of Kings. A decision had been made. After another moment of silence, he spoke to her again. “We will see.”
And with that, he whistled for Isis to come to his side and, upon her compliance, he strode out of the room, taking his air of anger with him.
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Jun 13, 2020 22:39:36 GMT
Posted In Expectations on Jun 13, 2020 22:39:36 GMT
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He had most certainly noticed how the servants awaited her approval before they left the newlyweds be. If it were possible for him to be more incensed, he would be, but servants were a small matter in the face of this queen of his. They would fear him soon enough but would she? Did she understand the dark temptation swirling in his head to cause her indescribable pain? To beat her beyond recognition? No. Clearly she did not, for she would never have dared to be so bold with him. Insolent child. He had much work to do if he was to make any use of her, or, in failing to find any, keep her out of his way.
Iahotep’s scathing gaze remained on her as she spoke. He did not speak to her, nor did his expression change in any meaningful way to indicate what he thought of her words. Oh, there was much he could have said, but it all seemed insufficient in the face of simply staring at her in silence. When she offered half of her pomegranate to him, his gaze didn’t even shift from her face to acknowledge what she had done. What, exactly, did she think this was? What did she think he was? Hatshepsut would learn that he was not so easily appeased. One did not insult his merit and then offer a pomegranate to him as though they could be friends. Fool. Something akin to a harsh scoff left him.
Truly, she could have said anything to him in that moment and his reaction would have been the exact same. Silent fury. People were all, invariably, liars and the queen as no different. Who was to say she did not offer him these words because she feared he might retaliate against her once more? His expression was a deep seated scowl for the remainder of their meal together. Between scowling at her, Iahotep would occasionally eat something from his plate, and a scrap would be offered to Isis when she asked for it by butting his hand with her head, but it was abundantly clear he had no interest in eating.
Eventually, however, he found himself growing increasingly irritated by simply being in her presence. The temptation to harm her returned, but he quelled it. There would be time enough to unleash his anger on a woman. The fact that it could not be this woman was infuriating but what else was there to do? He knew well enough that if he crossed the space between them again to strike her, she would not survive his wrath. Even if she was the most ungrateful, most pettish fool he had ever come across, she was his queen, and, more importantly, the reason he was legally the pharaoh. The machinations to get him here were not her own and he, frankly, doubted she had the capacity to go to lengths her mother had and would continue to do.
Enough.
Enough of her.
Abruptly, he pushed his chair from underneath the table with a startled Isis stumbling to her paws. His hands clutched the edge of the table tightly as he breathed heavily through his nose. Whether it was a moment of restraining himself or contemplating his next words didn’t matter to the newly crowned King of Kings. A decision had been made. After another moment of silence, he spoke to her again. “We will see.”
And with that, he whistled for Isis to come to his side and, upon her compliance, he strode out of the room, taking his air of anger with him.
He had most certainly noticed how the servants awaited her approval before they left the newlyweds be. If it were possible for him to be more incensed, he would be, but servants were a small matter in the face of this queen of his. They would fear him soon enough but would she? Did she understand the dark temptation swirling in his head to cause her indescribable pain? To beat her beyond recognition? No. Clearly she did not, for she would never have dared to be so bold with him. Insolent child. He had much work to do if he was to make any use of her, or, in failing to find any, keep her out of his way.
Iahotep’s scathing gaze remained on her as she spoke. He did not speak to her, nor did his expression change in any meaningful way to indicate what he thought of her words. Oh, there was much he could have said, but it all seemed insufficient in the face of simply staring at her in silence. When she offered half of her pomegranate to him, his gaze didn’t even shift from her face to acknowledge what she had done. What, exactly, did she think this was? What did she think he was? Hatshepsut would learn that he was not so easily appeased. One did not insult his merit and then offer a pomegranate to him as though they could be friends. Fool. Something akin to a harsh scoff left him.
Truly, she could have said anything to him in that moment and his reaction would have been the exact same. Silent fury. People were all, invariably, liars and the queen as no different. Who was to say she did not offer him these words because she feared he might retaliate against her once more? His expression was a deep seated scowl for the remainder of their meal together. Between scowling at her, Iahotep would occasionally eat something from his plate, and a scrap would be offered to Isis when she asked for it by butting his hand with her head, but it was abundantly clear he had no interest in eating.
Eventually, however, he found himself growing increasingly irritated by simply being in her presence. The temptation to harm her returned, but he quelled it. There would be time enough to unleash his anger on a woman. The fact that it could not be this woman was infuriating but what else was there to do? He knew well enough that if he crossed the space between them again to strike her, she would not survive his wrath. Even if she was the most ungrateful, most pettish fool he had ever come across, she was his queen, and, more importantly, the reason he was legally the pharaoh. The machinations to get him here were not her own and he, frankly, doubted she had the capacity to go to lengths her mother had and would continue to do.
Enough.
Enough of her.
Abruptly, he pushed his chair from underneath the table with a startled Isis stumbling to her paws. His hands clutched the edge of the table tightly as he breathed heavily through his nose. Whether it was a moment of restraining himself or contemplating his next words didn’t matter to the newly crowned King of Kings. A decision had been made. After another moment of silence, he spoke to her again. “We will see.”
And with that, he whistled for Isis to come to his side and, upon her compliance, he strode out of the room, taking his air of anger with him.
Her exasperating husband did not take the pomegranate she offered him. There was no secret meaning behind the simple gesture. Hatshepsut would have done the same if she had been dining with her mother or Sutekh. It just seemed like the right thing to do.
Iahotep didn’t even comment on what she had said. Hadn’t she answered in exactly the way he wanted her to? To acknowledge that he was superior to her and that she could learn how to rule from him? Or had he hoped that she wouldn't capitulate quickly so that he had reason, in his twisted mind, to slap her again?
He never took his eyes from her as she ate, and she could sense the anger smoldering within him. He wasn’t happy with her, that much was clear. Hatshepstut didn’t think he would be happy with any woman who had grown up a privileged royal and was better able to rule than he was, especially one who was twenty-six years his junior.
The young Queen continued to eat, trying to ignore his venomous stare. Maybe he had nothing to say because he knew that she had called him out and begged him to teach her things that he had no idea how to do. Perhaps he was disappointed that she was not like her mother. Despite the fury radiating from him in waves, she refused to be cowed.
Eventually, he pushed back his chair and stood. Hatshepsut didn’t raise her eyes, pretending to be absorbed in her breakfast. In truth, panic filled her heart. She could hear his heavy breathing. He was definitely not pleased with her reaction to his stares, or lack thereof. Was he going to round the table and beat her senseless?
“We will see.”
Hatshepsut looked up when he spoke, but all she saw was his back as he strode to the door that led to his chambers, his cheetah following dutifully behind him. Was that how he wished her to act, like his cheetah? Doing as he ordered without complaint? And what had his parting words meant?
She needed to speak to her mother and tell her how the husband the Council had chosen for her had abused her. The way a Pharaoh treated his wife was often an indication of how he would treat his kingdom. Maybe they would force him to step down and let Osorsen take his place the way the gods had meant it to be.
She would see her mother later in the day, of that she was certain. The Dowager would be informed of everything that had happened since their wedding the day before. Hatshepsut continued to eat, thinking about how to word her complaints so that they would get the desired results.
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Posted In Expectations on Oct 1, 2020 18:23:29 GMT
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Her exasperating husband did not take the pomegranate she offered him. There was no secret meaning behind the simple gesture. Hatshepsut would have done the same if she had been dining with her mother or Sutekh. It just seemed like the right thing to do.
Iahotep didn’t even comment on what she had said. Hadn’t she answered in exactly the way he wanted her to? To acknowledge that he was superior to her and that she could learn how to rule from him? Or had he hoped that she wouldn't capitulate quickly so that he had reason, in his twisted mind, to slap her again?
He never took his eyes from her as she ate, and she could sense the anger smoldering within him. He wasn’t happy with her, that much was clear. Hatshepstut didn’t think he would be happy with any woman who had grown up a privileged royal and was better able to rule than he was, especially one who was twenty-six years his junior.
The young Queen continued to eat, trying to ignore his venomous stare. Maybe he had nothing to say because he knew that she had called him out and begged him to teach her things that he had no idea how to do. Perhaps he was disappointed that she was not like her mother. Despite the fury radiating from him in waves, she refused to be cowed.
Eventually, he pushed back his chair and stood. Hatshepsut didn’t raise her eyes, pretending to be absorbed in her breakfast. In truth, panic filled her heart. She could hear his heavy breathing. He was definitely not pleased with her reaction to his stares, or lack thereof. Was he going to round the table and beat her senseless?
“We will see.”
Hatshepsut looked up when he spoke, but all she saw was his back as he strode to the door that led to his chambers, his cheetah following dutifully behind him. Was that how he wished her to act, like his cheetah? Doing as he ordered without complaint? And what had his parting words meant?
She needed to speak to her mother and tell her how the husband the Council had chosen for her had abused her. The way a Pharaoh treated his wife was often an indication of how he would treat his kingdom. Maybe they would force him to step down and let Osorsen take his place the way the gods had meant it to be.
She would see her mother later in the day, of that she was certain. The Dowager would be informed of everything that had happened since their wedding the day before. Hatshepsut continued to eat, thinking about how to word her complaints so that they would get the desired results.
Her exasperating husband did not take the pomegranate she offered him. There was no secret meaning behind the simple gesture. Hatshepsut would have done the same if she had been dining with her mother or Sutekh. It just seemed like the right thing to do.
Iahotep didn’t even comment on what she had said. Hadn’t she answered in exactly the way he wanted her to? To acknowledge that he was superior to her and that she could learn how to rule from him? Or had he hoped that she wouldn't capitulate quickly so that he had reason, in his twisted mind, to slap her again?
He never took his eyes from her as she ate, and she could sense the anger smoldering within him. He wasn’t happy with her, that much was clear. Hatshepstut didn’t think he would be happy with any woman who had grown up a privileged royal and was better able to rule than he was, especially one who was twenty-six years his junior.
The young Queen continued to eat, trying to ignore his venomous stare. Maybe he had nothing to say because he knew that she had called him out and begged him to teach her things that he had no idea how to do. Perhaps he was disappointed that she was not like her mother. Despite the fury radiating from him in waves, she refused to be cowed.
Eventually, he pushed back his chair and stood. Hatshepsut didn’t raise her eyes, pretending to be absorbed in her breakfast. In truth, panic filled her heart. She could hear his heavy breathing. He was definitely not pleased with her reaction to his stares, or lack thereof. Was he going to round the table and beat her senseless?
“We will see.”
Hatshepsut looked up when he spoke, but all she saw was his back as he strode to the door that led to his chambers, his cheetah following dutifully behind him. Was that how he wished her to act, like his cheetah? Doing as he ordered without complaint? And what had his parting words meant?
She needed to speak to her mother and tell her how the husband the Council had chosen for her had abused her. The way a Pharaoh treated his wife was often an indication of how he would treat his kingdom. Maybe they would force him to step down and let Osorsen take his place the way the gods had meant it to be.
She would see her mother later in the day, of that she was certain. The Dowager would be informed of everything that had happened since their wedding the day before. Hatshepsut continued to eat, thinking about how to word her complaints so that they would get the desired results.