VI: The Thief's New Clothes
Seshafi was handed off to a matronly woman servant who seemed to be very in charge of the others around her. Seshafi thought she was probably one of the older servants who had been here for a while and had more favor with the master.
The woman, named Matala, promptly hurried Seshafi off to a bathing room. Her clothes were quickly taken off and Matala told her quite ruthlessly that the dress would be burned so as to never have to appear again.
She wasn't offended. It was an old dress. From a long time ago when she had had a job as a servant in a merchant's home. The merchant had lost all of his business though and so he had fired Seshafi.
She was instructed into the large pool-like bath. After a few seconds of sitting in the blissfully warm water, she was attacked by Matala who seemed very determined to scrape all of the dirt off of her body. Still she had been without a proper bath for a long time and she had spent many nights hiding in the dirt or the bushes in order to not be detected as she sneaked in or out of someone's house.
Whether Matala knew that or not didn't seem to matter. She took the cloth and the soap and rubbed on Seshafi's skin quite mercifully. It hurt, but at the same time Seshafi felt satisfied. She liked the thought of being clean again. How she would love to look at her reflection in passing objects and not feel disgusted at the dirt and messiness of her own image.
The water became more and more cloudy as the dirt from her hair and body grudgingly floated away from her. Her skin was raw and her scalp felt sore but when she finally climbed out of the water an hour later she felt lighter.
"Hm. It'll take more than one wash to get you finished, but you certainly look better now." Matala said with satisfaction. Seshafi smiled softly and held the towel tight around herself.
"Now, we need to get some lotion on you before you dry up. Your skin is very rough." the woman bustled off somewhere. There was a small couch nearby waiting for use and Seshafi walked to it and sat down slowly.
It was so soft. Everything here was soft and beautiful. The towel was warm, the soap smelled sweet and fresh. Even the room itself was clean and well-kept. It was a noble family's home and everything was of better quality here.
Except me. She thought unhappily. She was here for amusement. To be a toy and entertainment for the master. And should he tire of her, then she would be back to the streets. Unless he fed her to the Nile. Or perhaps he would simply give her to a different noble so she could be someone else's toy.
She scowled softly and clenched the towel tighter around herself. It was a very soft towel though. She buried her face in it and inhaled deeply. It smelled clean and fresh. When had she ever had something so comfortable and warm around herself? She didn't think she ever had.
Her stomach growled and she pressed a hand against it with a sigh. Then biting her lip she took of the towel and looked down at herself. She bite her lip harder at what she saw.
She was so skinny. She passed a hand over her ribs and hips easily feeling the outline of both. She didn't think anyone would be pleased by such boniness. But she had had so little to eat. And she had stopped noticing it as much over the years. She had either to live with less or face the constant ache of hungry.
Matala came back and with her she brought along another servant who was carrying an armful of fabric and small bottles just as Matala was.
"Now then, as the Master seems to have decided that you are to stay, we need to get you to look like you belong here." Matala put her bundles down and then taking a few bottles from the assortment of things she had brought she moved forward and rubbed more than one lotion on Seshafi's skin.
A few of them smelled nice, some smelt terrible and one had no smell to it but instead a very glossy feel.
After her skin was smoother, shinier, Seshafi was instructed to sit while the other servant dried out her hair with another towel. Matala mean while set about to cleaning and cutting Seshafi's long fingernails.
So...this is what it feels like to be a noble? To be pampered so? She thought enjoying the feeling. She also felt a little guilty. After all these two women had honest jobs and undoubtedly worked hard at them. Here they were working over her when she did not truly deserve the treatment.
She sat up and pulled her hair and her hands to herself. She opened he mouth to protest when Matala gave her a hard rap across her knees.
"Ow!" she said loudly surprised.
"Now before you start to protest and complain as you were about to, remember that it is a maid's job to look after her mistress. Not only is it her job, but to a good maid making sure her mistress is well groomed is her pride."
"But I am not your mistress. I am no one's superior." Seshafi protested loudly.
"You are until the General says otherwise. Now sit still and let us do our work, and if you say one more word in protest I will personally tell the Master that you were ill-tempered and disobedient." the woman said threateningly. Seshafi bit her lip and laid back quietly. She did not doubt the older woman's threat nor did she like to think of what the General might do as a 'punishment'.
Her hair was combed out and then trimmed slightly to even out the edges and her fringe. Her nails were shaped and polished. After more moisturizing they gave her new clothes to wear which were more fitting to a lord's concubine and more comfortable than anything she had ever wore or even held. They gave her some jewels as well; a gold collar for her neck, wrist and arm bands, some ankle bracelets, some rings, and golden hoop ear-rings. After she was properly dressed they made her sit down again and applied dark kohl to her eyes and some balm to her lips.
"There now," Matala said standing up and looking down at the younger woman. The other servant who was named Bela gathered up the mess and left quietly.
"Now you look more like a lady. Just as it should be." Matala said softly gripping Seshafi's hands and pulling her to her feet. The former thief winced slightly as she stood for the first time in the hard sandals she had been given. They were fancy and a strange style that she had never worn before. But rich women wore them so she was supposed to now as well. But she did not like them.
Seshafi held her hands tightly against her chest. She felt naked somehow. Her body was lighter from the absence of the dirt and from all of the lotions. She had lost more than an inch of her hair and her bangs no longer fell so much in her eyes. But the dress was thin and close fitting. Her arms were bare and the neck-line dipped in and revealed her chest almost to where her bosom was. And all of the unaccustomed jewelry felt weighted on her body. She felt strange and alien.
I should get used to this. I will have to dress this way everyday now. And I should enjoy it. Hardly ever does a pauper like myself get to indulge in such finery. Still she felt anxious and a little scared.
"Now now child." Matala said softly. The older woman walked forward and grasped Seshafi's shoulders lightly. "You will be alright. After a few days I'm sure you'll feel like you've had all of this for your whole life. Then you'll be just as demanding and arrogant as all of those other court-women."
Seshafi laughed. She liked Matala. The woman was outspoken and unafraid of the social boundaries between nobles and commoners. She seemed not to care that she was a servant. If she had something to say she said it no matter who it might offend and the trouble she might cause.
"Now let's get you to that mirror. You should see the change in yourself."
They walked slowly mostly because Seshafi was afraid of what she might see. A street-rat hiding in a rich woman's dress perhaps? Or a dirty thief trying to steal a better life for herself?
The mirror was long and held up by two stone lions on the far wall of the bathing-room. Seshafi stepped in front of it with her eyes closed, then she looked quickly and took in her whole transformed self.
She gasped in shock at the person she saw.
A beautiful woman with long shinning black hair and strong gray eyes was looking out at her from the mirror. She wore a dress of pure white that had two straps around her shoulders and a dark blue sash around her waist. The kohl was placed perfectly around her eyes making her look stronger and more fierce. No true Egyptian would leave his home without kohl around his eyes if he was anyone of importance.
The gold sparkled brightly on Seshafi's arms and hands. She touched the smooth golden collar and bit her lip before remembering the balm.
"It cannot be so." she whispered aloud to herself. Matala chuckled lightly.
"You're a skinny one, and there still some street dirt clinging to you, but you certainly have improved." the woman took Seshafi's arm and pulled her away. "Let's get you some food. It is long after lunch now."
Seshafi looked away from the mirror reluctantly. She wanted to memorize the change, the sudden beauty she had. She hadn't even know it was possible for herself to look so nice. She smiled smugly slightly.
What would that man think of her now?
As she followed Matala through the palace Seshafi felt strangely satisfied with her new appearance. That man would certainly be very surprised at her new beauty. What would he say to her?
Strangely and unexpectedly she found herself waiting impatiently for the night when he would come back and see her.
She never expected herself to wait for him but without even noticing she did just that all the rest of the day.
A/N: ''That man'' by the way that Seshafi keeps thinking of at the end of this chapter is Ramses. but since she doesn't really like him she thinks of him as ''that man''. :)