fulfilled. Instead, I shall face a lifetime of perpetual unhappiness.
In the distance I see Sethe watching us while pretending to roll some heavy rope into a coil. He grunts, though it is not out of fatigue but frustration. What a cruel act of fate! Because my people took him captive, he can never be my husband. His shackles are always there, even though he no longer has to wear them. There is nowhere for him to run. Every part of him has been enslaved, and as his mistress, perhaps I am no better than those who made him a prisoner. But there is one major difference. I care for him. I…love him.
A pretty servant girl walks toward me and proffers a goblet of wine. Her sandals somehow become tangled with mine, and she stumbles, falling forward. The maiden not only douses my legs with the liquid but splatters me with purple, simultaneously tearing my robes beyond repair.
“Majesty Princess, please forgive me!”
The servant girl throws herself at my feet, sobbing.
“Get up, dear one. It is no matter. It is but a mere dress,” I say, noting the frightened countenance of the girl. What do I care for material objects? They used to be the cornerstone of my existence, but now they are meaningless.
Because the ripped material of my gown is hanging strangely, I tear the bottom off with my hands. It is a much shorter affair, and I can tell by Kha’s expression that he is furious. His inverted eyebrows betray his disapproval. But our attention is soon diverted to the solar event that is about to take place, that which the temple was built to accommodate.
“Come. Let us watch the solar spectacle together,” he says with an indignant edge to his voice.
I start to follow Kha but hang back just long enough for Sethe to catch up to me. I watch with trepidation as the sun’s rays creep into the interior of the building’s innermost chamber. Though we are standing outside the temple, its depths are now visible. A loud noise pierces my eardrums, and I am invigorated as the light bores into the mountainside like an archer aiming a bow directly atits target. I feel as though I am communing with Ra. If only he could light my way.
There is a bright flash, and then a pushing, a twisting…
Sethe and I explore the cavernous rooms of the large temple, which are lit with narrow flaming torches and broad - based oil lamps. When Sethe’s head is turned for but a second, I run off as fast as my legs can carry me, which is the benefit of my new skirt length.
I have done this before, though never with Sethe. So far, I have behaved myself in his care. And though it is not wise, sometimes I purposely separate from whomever is guarding me. I will admit I enjoy the chase that ensues. But for the most part, I just need a moment to myself. Now that my world has been turned upside down, and I shall marry Kha, I must go and contemplate in private. It is a right most Egyptians hold dear. Yet it is one I am consistently denied.
“I need to be alone! For once…for once,” I murmur, not so much to Sethe as to myself.
“Your Majesty Princess! Come back!” Sethe repeats in frantic yet hushed tones.
I weave through the hall and lose him by hiding behind one of the titanic pillars of Osiris, god of the dead. I only come up to the ankles of the structure. I watch as Sethe checks every pillar for me, but I expertly dodge him. The moon is bright and the sky clear, so I decide to take a chance and slip outside.
I head toward what I believe to be the offering vestibule, but when I turn a corner, I spy Kha. I believe — I hope — that I am obstructed from his view, even though I can see everything from where I stand. He is with the maid who spilled the wine. Her arms are tied, and she is facing away from me. She has been secured to the horns on the cow - headed statue of Hathor. The goddess of joy would be appalled to know that her likeness is being used in such a way.
The girl’s dress has been pulled down so far that the whole of her rich brown
In the distance I see Sethe watching us while pretending to roll some heavy rope into a coil. He grunts, though it is not out of fatigue but frustration. What a cruel act of fate! Because my people took him captive, he can never be my husband. His shackles are always there, even though he no longer has to wear them. There is nowhere for him to run. Every part of him has been enslaved, and as his mistress, perhaps I am no better than those who made him a prisoner. But there is one major difference. I care for him. I…love him.
A pretty servant girl walks toward me and proffers a goblet of wine. Her sandals somehow become tangled with mine, and she stumbles, falling forward. The maiden not only douses my legs with the liquid but splatters me with purple, simultaneously tearing my robes beyond repair.
“Majesty Princess, please forgive me!”
The servant girl throws herself at my feet, sobbing.
“Get up, dear one. It is no matter. It is but a mere dress,” I say, noting the frightened countenance of the girl. What do I care for material objects? They used to be the cornerstone of my existence, but now they are meaningless.
Because the ripped material of my gown is hanging strangely, I tear the bottom off with my hands. It is a much shorter affair, and I can tell by Kha’s expression that he is furious. His inverted eyebrows betray his disapproval. But our attention is soon diverted to the solar event that is about to take place, that which the temple was built to accommodate.
“Come. Let us watch the solar spectacle together,” he says with an indignant edge to his voice.
I start to follow Kha but hang back just long enough for Sethe to catch up to me. I watch with trepidation as the sun’s rays creep into the interior of the building’s innermost chamber. Though we are standing outside the temple, its depths are now visible. A loud noise pierces my eardrums, and I am invigorated as the light bores into the mountainside like an archer aiming a bow directly atits target. I feel as though I am communing with Ra. If only he could light my way.
There is a bright flash, and then a pushing, a twisting…
Sethe and I explore the cavernous rooms of the large temple, which are lit with narrow flaming torches and broad - based oil lamps. When Sethe’s head is turned for but a second, I run off as fast as my legs can carry me, which is the benefit of my new skirt length.
I have done this before, though never with Sethe. So far, I have behaved myself in his care. And though it is not wise, sometimes I purposely separate from whomever is guarding me. I will admit I enjoy the chase that ensues. But for the most part, I just need a moment to myself. Now that my world has been turned upside down, and I shall marry Kha, I must go and contemplate in private. It is a right most Egyptians hold dear. Yet it is one I am consistently denied.
“I need to be alone! For once…for once,” I murmur, not so much to Sethe as to myself.
“Your Majesty Princess! Come back!” Sethe repeats in frantic yet hushed tones.
I weave through the hall and lose him by hiding behind one of the titanic pillars of Osiris, god of the dead. I only come up to the ankles of the structure. I watch as Sethe checks every pillar for me, but I expertly dodge him. The moon is bright and the sky clear, so I decide to take a chance and slip outside.
I head toward what I believe to be the offering vestibule, but when I turn a corner, I spy Kha. I believe — I hope — that I am obstructed from his view, even though I can see everything from where I stand. He is with the maid who spilled the wine. Her arms are tied, and she is facing away from me. She has been secured to the horns on the cow - headed statue of Hathor. The goddess of joy would be appalled to know that her likeness is being used in such a way.
The girl’s dress has been pulled down so far that the whole of her rich brown
Similar Books
The Evil That Men Do: FBI Profiler Roy Hazelwood's Journey Into the Minds of Sexual Predators
Stephen G. Michaud, Roy Hazelwood
