The Taste of Blood
Ch. 1- Egypt
"Fala," my sister called. "Hurry up in there or we'll be late to the wedding ceremony!" "All right, just a minute Aria. I'll be right out," I said.
I quickly glanced in the mirror to see if my servant, Anni, had done a good job with my make-up. Let me describe myself to you. I was tall, as Egyptian women come, and had long black hair. My oldest sister, I had four, was often jealous of my naturally black hair. She and my younger sister both had brown hair, and had to wear wigs, to keep in fashion. My eyes were honey colored, and darkly outlined with kohl. I was wearing my favorite dress of gold, with a thin, gauzy fabric covering the outside. I love gold, of almost any kind. I also love fire, and the sun, which is why Ra is my favorite god. My lips were painted a glossy, dark red, which complimented my tanned skin. Satisfied, I turned to leave.
Standing outside my private quarters, were my sisters. From oldest, there was Aria, 19, Cheri, 17, Janita, 13 and Isis, 9. I was in the middle, right there between Cheri and Janita, and I was 16. My sisters all kind of looked like each other. Aria, Cheri and Janita all looked alike, and Isis and myself looked very much alike as well.
Giggling and trading stories about our day, the five of us skipped downstairs to meet our parents before continuing to the banquet hall.
Egyptians love weddings. They were the main form of entertainment, and excitement. Girls were trained all throughout childhood on how to become a good wife and mother. This was a chance to see how everything went. That evening, my aunt, who my sister Janita was named after, was to be married to a neighbor, who's name was Rhombi. He was a, well...some may call him an obtuse, kind of man. The family loved him. Of course, as Aria said, had he not 50 acres of land and an assured place in the king's royal advisors (family connections), then we would all find him incurably dull.
"And do you, Rhombi IV, take Janita, to be your lawfully wedded wife, as long as you both shall live?" the Egyptian priest asked.
"Of course." Rhombi answered, with the air of one who spent a lot of time practicing.
I always thought that it was rather rude of the priest to never ask the woman, but then, we were never asked about a lot of things, and this was no exception.
After Rhombi's statement, the crowd burst into applause and shouts of well wishes. The bride and groom led us to the ballroom floor, to have sweets and dance to the traditional wedding tunes.
"Mmmm! Taste these tarts, Fala!" Isis said, stripes of raspberry sauce painted on her cheeks. I laughed.
I wandered over to Cheri and Aria, who were oohing and ahhing at the beautiful women dancing with beautiful dresses on, and holding hands with beautiful men.
"Do you see that one, Cheri?" Aria asked. "Isn't he gorgeous?"
"Which one? I see, like, five of them," Cheri answered.
"Who are you talking about, Aria?" I asked, scanning the crowd of dancers.
Aria gave an exasperated sigh. "That one, dancing with the lady in the purple dress."
I glanced at him quickly, but then did a double take. His eyes were coal black, and his hair was the same color. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and a small ringlet of gold around his head, as with most Egyptian men. Except this man did not look Egyptian. He was pale, while all the other people were tanned, and he did not wear makeup around his eyes, or bracelets on his arms. The power of my gaze seemed to draw his eyes to mine, and then his eyes met mine.
Ch. 1- Egypt
"Fala," my sister called. "Hurry up in there or we'll be late to the wedding ceremony!" "All right, just a minute Aria. I'll be right out," I said.
I quickly glanced in the mirror to see if my servant, Anni, had done a good job with my make-up. Let me describe myself to you. I was tall, as Egyptian women come, and had long black hair. My oldest sister, I had four, was often jealous of my naturally black hair. She and my younger sister both had brown hair, and had to wear wigs, to keep in fashion. My eyes were honey colored, and darkly outlined with kohl. I was wearing my favorite dress of gold, with a thin, gauzy fabric covering the outside. I love gold, of almost any kind. I also love fire, and the sun, which is why Ra is my favorite god. My lips were painted a glossy, dark red, which complimented my tanned skin. Satisfied, I turned to leave.
Standing outside my private quarters, were my sisters. From oldest, there was Aria, 19, Cheri, 17, Janita, 13 and Isis, 9. I was in the middle, right there between Cheri and Janita, and I was 16. My sisters all kind of looked like each other. Aria, Cheri and Janita all looked alike, and Isis and myself looked very much alike as well.
Giggling and trading stories about our day, the five of us skipped downstairs to meet our parents before continuing to the banquet hall.
Egyptians love weddings. They were the main form of entertainment, and excitement. Girls were trained all throughout childhood on how to become a good wife and mother. This was a chance to see how everything went. That evening, my aunt, who my sister Janita was named after, was to be married to a neighbor, who's name was Rhombi. He was a, well...some may call him an obtuse, kind of man. The family loved him. Of course, as Aria said, had he not 50 acres of land and an assured place in the king's royal advisors (family connections), then we would all find him incurably dull.
"And do you, Rhombi IV, take Janita, to be your lawfully wedded wife, as long as you both shall live?" the Egyptian priest asked.
"Of course." Rhombi answered, with the air of one who spent a lot of time practicing.
I always thought that it was rather rude of the priest to never ask the woman, but then, we were never asked about a lot of things, and this was no exception.
After Rhombi's statement, the crowd burst into applause and shouts of well wishes. The bride and groom led us to the ballroom floor, to have sweets and dance to the traditional wedding tunes.
"Mmmm! Taste these tarts, Fala!" Isis said, stripes of raspberry sauce painted on her cheeks. I laughed.
I wandered over to Cheri and Aria, who were oohing and ahhing at the beautiful women dancing with beautiful dresses on, and holding hands with beautiful men.
"Do you see that one, Cheri?" Aria asked. "Isn't he gorgeous?"
"Which one? I see, like, five of them," Cheri answered.
"Who are you talking about, Aria?" I asked, scanning the crowd of dancers.
Aria gave an exasperated sigh. "That one, dancing with the lady in the purple dress."
I glanced at him quickly, but then did a double take. His eyes were coal black, and his hair was the same color. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and a small ringlet of gold around his head, as with most Egyptian men. Except this man did not look Egyptian. He was pale, while all the other people were tanned, and he did not wear makeup around his eyes, or bracelets on his arms. The power of my gaze seemed to draw his eyes to mine, and then his eyes met mine.