Khuit.
Khuit was a cousin of mine—the daughter of My mother's brother Kawab, whom I'll speak about later—and she was the darling of the village. Her hair by some odd mix of genetics was a golden blonde, and no one met her that didn't remark on its beauty. I imagine that had she lived longer she'd have learned to take vanity from that, but by her death she was still a child, one who resented her parents' insistence on cleanliness and primping. The other children of the village, including Myself, were in the habit of running around and playing with dirt and sticks. She was never allowed to join in, so we did not know her well.
I imagine her parents intended to sell her as a slave at some point, so she had to be kept in good shape.
And believe Me, that is not nearly as callous as it sounds.
The life of a Thief was in the eyes of some even worse than slavery—our freedom was restricted by having to evade the law; it was not odd for us to starve to death or get killed during a raid; the women in particular were vulnerable to soldiers' and guards' lust if they ever came across one from the palace; there was always the danger of slavery itself at best if caught by one of the pharaoh's men; having a permanent home like Kul Elna was nearly unheard of, and as the slaughter proved, for good reason. And a beautiful, blonde slave like Khuit would be worth enough to feed her family for a year, and honestly gotten, too.
Her life would have much improved in a few years, once she got to marriageable age, I think. Most likely she'd have been bought by a plump rich man as a concubine, and be well-fed and pampered for the remainder of her days. Though she resented it as a child, she would have thanked the gods' for her parents' wisdom in future days.
Poor girl. Her golden hair was oddly prophetic of her fate, and even now she's an object of greedy pursuit amongst any who lay eyes on her.