IV.
Nefertiti sat patiently at her father's table surrounded by the sons of the nobility of Egypt. She was thoroughly disgusted. Anything would've been better than sitting through this torture. The conversations with these boys were of the worst sort, mostly politics and war. If she wanted to hear that, she'd turn to her father. Most of the nobility's children were just like adults; and that was the last thing she needed.
She longed to be outside, feeling the rough harshness of the desert winds rake across her face and tousle her hair. Or up in her room listening to a tale of magic and intrigue from Kamilla. Nefertiri grinded her molars into one another and accepted another round of wine from the servants.
She sighed.
"Enjoying yourself, daughter of the morning and the evening star?" a voice whispered from behind.
Nefertiri jumped and whirled in her seat, her eyes meeting two very deep pools of blackness. The princess smiled.
"Not really," she whispered back to her friend. The boy nodded.
"When I give you the signal," he informed her conspiratorially," Follow me."
Princess Nefertiri frowned but nodded. The boy went off to serve other nobles and their families. She watched his body as it moved across the stone floors, adorned in the white smocks of the servants, graceful and proud like a feline, watching for any strange sign he might give. Slowly, anxiety crept into her stomach. Was that boy actually suggesting that she skip out on this whole affair? How exactly was he going to pull it off? She looked for him again, all over the room for him frowning, her stomach doing circus performances. He'd disappeared.
"Yakoa," came the tiniest whisper upon a wind that swept in from the desert.
Nefertiri turned to the direction of the wind and saw a ghostly figure beckoning to her from the open door way. Her eyes widened considerably in amazement. Was that- was that the priest boy!
Nefertiri turned to her father, but he seemed not to notice the sudden cool draft that blew in from the door's open arches. He didn't seem to notice her at all. Nefertiri bit her lip and looked to the strange boy. He was farther away now, beckoning. The princess gritted her teeth, stood slowly cautiously and turned to leave. No one seemed to notice, no one seemed to care. She almost gave a cry of joy, but instead kept it at bay and continued to walk slowly outside of the room, passed the chairs of unsuspecting nobles, out of the door's arches and into the open air. Finally, Nefertiri gave a jubilant shout and ran to catch up with the mysterious priest boy.
They stood on the highest reach of the pharaoh's palace, the stars of Nut's belly twinkling above them in cold distant glory. A strange moon hung in the sky, tinged just so with a misty blue. Desert winds swept across the sand below and rushed up suddenly, at the flick of Ankhnut's hand, tussling the princess's hair. She took along deep breath before fully turning to her companion and studying him. His shaven head glossed in the dim torchlight and the corners of his mouth were upturned in a vague, distant smile. She frowned. She didn't even know his name. And, then, suddenly all coherent thought was driven from her as his very dark eyes turned to her and gazed at her just as curious.
"How did you..." Nefertiri let her voice trail off as she wondered if it were appropriate to ask a priest about his spells and magical workings. Then she brushed the feeling off. Because of her upbringing, and the blood from her mother that ran in her veins, she had more of a right than anyone. "How did you do that? How is it possible that no one has come for me yet?"
He shrugged and turned back to the stars. Finally, he answered, "I made an illusion."
"An illusion!" she gasped. "How powerful are you?"
He laughed, a sweet sound that carried in the air. "Are you always so...tactless?"
"Tactless!" she exclaimed. "TACTLESS! How dare you speak in such a way to royalty! You are bold!"
"And you are careless," he replied in such an easy tone. He glanced at her and she stood there fuming at him. "Look, I didn't take you from that celebration to speak to you in all "Yes your highness" and "If it pleases you your highness." You looked bored." He shrugged and turned away from her. "But I suppose I made an error in judgment."
"No," she struggled to contain her anger, finding that she really didn't want to stay angry at this particular boy. His bluntness surprised her. How could he be so bold as if to talk to her as any regular citizen of Egypt. She was daughter of a mortal god. But, in a way, it was also refreshing. Someone else, aside from Merenre and Kamilla was daring to treat her...normal. "I'm glad you wasted your gift on me. I suppose I should be grateful. Thank you."
His grin seemed to melt away all her anger. His dark eyes twinkled and he boldly took her hand, leading her to a better view of the sky. He pointed.
"Look."
And she did, and what she saw was breathtaking. It was true then, what they said, at the highest point of the palace you COULD see the Nile flowing into a larger body of water. It was so faraway, and it glimmered in the moon light like a mass of stars flung to earth. The sands glowed pale blue and purple, and a desert wind stirred the still dunes.
"Amazing, priest," Nefertiri breathed.
He smiled at her for a moment, then said, "My name is Ankhnut."
She blushed, wondered fleetingly if that was the right thing for a princess to do, then said, "Yes, of course. I should've asked."
"And you?" he asked quietly and the princess frowned.
"Why ask for my name? All of Egypt knows it."
His grin spread slowly across his face. "I know, but I'd like to hear you say it. Tell me, princess, what is you name?"
She blushed again. "I-I am Nefertiri Ptahm III."
He smiled slightly. "Nefertiri...Nefertiri."
A wash of strange feelings brushed over her in waves and the princess felt a strange emotion bubble up from her stomach. Him saying her name made shivers run up and down her spine. It wasn't the name itself, just how he said it, without reverence, but instead as if it were some strange and powerful word, as if each syllable could invoke such great forces of nature. He grinned at her again as a desert wind stirred.
"Ankhnut," she said quietly, and his dark gaze drifted over to her. It roved over her face for a moment before meeting her gaze. He nodded expectant. "Can you...Can you get me a piece of the sky?"
He looked taken aback by her strange request. She added quickly, "It's just that Merenre always boasts of the power of the sisterhoods, indeed of my mother's own, unique, bloodline and well...I've always wanted a piece of the sky."
He smiled at her and took her hand in his. She met his dark gaze as it twinkled in the night.
He nodded and said, "My princess, I will give you whatever is in my power to give you." He sighed. "Yes, I will get you a piece of the sky."
She grinned like a satisfied cat and threw her arms around him. Ankhnut was caught off guard by the sudden embrace, curling his arms around her slender form. They were crushed together for what seemed like eternity, before the princess pulled blushingly away. He frowned and mentally wondered what repercussions that act would have on his future, indeed his survival if pharaoh ever found out. Then he met her dark eyes, and those thoughts were driven swiftly away. He suddenly wanted that lithe, pulsing body in his arms again. He reached out to touch her, but the sudden blast of faraway horns stopped him and he realized, that very soon , he would have to return the real princess to her father's side and get rid of the illusion. Personally, he couldn't fathom how he'd done it anyway. One minute he panicked on how he was going to pull off getting her out of the room with all those guards, and in the next the world around him tinged with magick and he'd wielded it. He'd knew that he was starting to play with fire, and that he'd better tone down a bit before he got burned...and badly. He turned to her now, her face awash with moonlight. She was beautiful, a voice in his mind said, he continued to stare not fully understanding what the word meant. Indeed, his intelligence far surpassed many adults, but he was still young.
Still naive.
"We should go now, Ankhnut," she whispered, and he shivered as strange emotions rose up from the depths of his soul. He wondered at those strange feelings, but nodded at her words.
And together, they descended the steps to return to the celebration, but not before the princess intertwined her hand with his.