It is wise for fellahin to live unremarked, as always she attempts to do. But as blistering summer days pass in rapid succession, her mind remains fixed upon Toula and the investment of a choice that must soon be made, both for the welfare of the state, and the divine Queen who has pervaded her own heart in no small way.
Eset has some favor of the gods who have chosen to spare her, and the favor of her good ruler, but she knows little of the Prince she intends to endorse as Pharaoh. That he holds a measure of acclaim from Tavina, and the mazoi Khusobek who shares her opposition of reforming the kingdom under foreign-blooded rule, subdues some consternation. But most will remain.
He is a figure that rests largely above court spectacles, and for all her observations, infallibly aloof. Is he interested in justice, in upholding the Queen’s happiness and state? Or rather, in accumulating the wealth and power that would tempt most others in his position. He was not born into divinity, after all: he chose it.
The passageways are quiet as she walks them to place herself at the threshold of @Senmut’s quarters, bowing respectfully before her Queen’s support.
beneath legend's worship, senmut's awareness of the gods' might had expanded. it was as if the necessary feeding of his own divinity had given him a more thorough understanding of his own place beneath Amun.
eset would then find him energetic, divining over a map of the stars. he had bidden the servants bring him a pile of good red earth, and it was in its circleting that he crouched. if he was to make melody an astrologer, the way must be through starlight, not the glow of Ra.
his head rose; his emerald eyes regarded her with the confusion of hard focus broken, and then senmut blinked, returning to himself. his rising was a smooth movement. "is all well with the queen, eset?"
“The Queen is quite well and with Tuna,” she moves thoughtfully into the space, stealing a small glance at his craft to find it exceptionally intricate and beyond her understanding. On this day the Prince is high of spirit, a liveliness she has glimpsed rarely. She wonders if it is the project that has ascribed such fervency but questions no further.
“I had hoped to discuss the forthcoming festival for her coronation with you, your highness, if a moment of your time may be afforded.” It is under this guise she seeks Senmut.
She studies him. He is more appealing with this rosiness on his fur, eyes vibrant with the color of polished gemstone.
And he has a clear care for the safety of her mistress.
“The menu, specifically.”
the careful lines of the prince softened to hear this; he nodded and would have returned to contemplations of his work had not eset spoken the true reason for her visit.
the coronation, of course. pleasure lit his eyes to think of their queen formally enshrined before gods and kingdom. but a menu; such nuances escaped his flawed inattention.
it was the fellahin who prepared each meal and provided delicacies for their royalty; senmut had little doubt that whatever was plattered would be delectable. "turtle eggs might be pleasing, if they can be found this time of year. sheep's liver might placate the princes." in many ways he did not consider himself one of their number; he was not foreign and shared a rapport with the queen they sought.
"what are your thoughts?" he asked, looking up again from the red dirt into the servant's countenance.
She considers a moment before nodding obediently. Yes, it could be found. It will serve as a demonstration of her Pharaoh's refined palate- and of the fellahin’s resolve to also meet it.
“A proposition of fourteen courses. Seven wines: two white and five red. Three hors d'oeuvres: sheep’s liver, boar tenderloin, turtle egg. One main course: wild goose in its fat. Two desserts: honey fig and dried dates. And a piece-de-resistance, for our Queen. I would like it to be a surprise- which is why I’ve come to you, my Prince,” she allows for her tongue to enunciate the final word.
For Eset, it is not simply food. It is not choosing idly one flavor over the next. It is how the meal is presented, how aptly it’s spread and design and the order for which it is served, reflecting the present state and government that is Toula’s Akashingo. Her custom, her wealth, her flawless order. It must be perfect.
She sweeps her eyes gracefully from the floor, over the red sand and to the man.
“You have long known our Queen, divine one. What are her tastes? Is it something… sweet? Or perhaps- exotic?”
eset had certainly given this dinner a great deal of thought. senmut experienced a moment of chagrined amusement that he should be prince and not have considered nearly so much.
"so let it be done," he rejoined in a voice that bespoke no small admiration of the fellahin, one that allowed no uncertainty of his approval.
"she is our lady of flowers," the high priest remarked, though now he grew still and perhaps solemn. "sweet things with a lovely presentation," a half sentence with rueful backing, for they did not dine together half as much as he should.
now the prince grew thoughtful. "suppose we managed to bring a taste of the sea here, to the palace? the ocean is unfamiliar to her, and she would be delighted, i think, to know it even in portion." senmut stood and muddled with the dirt once more, now contemplating how many weeks it would take to bring such luster from the coastline, and if it could be done in time.
What Senmut has achieved, he has done so on his own merit. She knows he is a man not lacking in ambition. And still at once he is eclipsed in great hesitance with the mention of Toula. Her eyes seek him for clarity. Perhaps his own tastes lay in other directions, and it is matrimonial duties that distress him. But before she has time to ponder it there is a revival of his word- through a most outrageous request! The fellahin will try not to flounder but her widened eyes reveal the abject dilemma of the task. The sea- how would they manage it? Has a wolf among them ever been? Yet, if the Prince believes it can be done- then it shall. And she will choose to reclass his previous quiet as affection for their lady of flowers.
“Do we have any alliances stationed on the coast?” She asks as Senmut returns to his study. The fellahin would long to go on this hunt herself, to experience the ocean and also ensure the quality of their harvest, but she would not abandon her grace’s side during such a pivotal time.
She takes a second step forward, to pull his attention again away from his heaps of loam.
“The new gardens are extravagant. Have you toured them? Our Queen has, though never after sundown. I hear that is the only time to see the white jasmine in bloom. I imagine there’d be quite a view of the stars there as well.” She flicks her eyes between him and the sand.
Then, so there is no mistaking the intent of her words: “Prince Thutmose is courting our Queen, divine one. As any who vie for her hand will. I have arranged an outing for him. Shall I do the same for you?”
prince thutmose is courting our queen.
these words roused in senmut some glissade of protective resentment, one that he knew was not divine in the least and would not herald goodwill for the moment she announced her choice. "blackwater was once off the coast," he mused in a bid for time as he sought to contemplate eset's clear implication. "but too long have we prolonged reaching to the sea beneath this reign." and at last he turned away from his red dirt.
ironic then, that it should be the fellahin who would urge the erpa-ha into becoming more than he had allowed himself to be. "i have not yet visited," senmut murmured in admission, though now his thoughts sharply turned to the business of — courtship.
his greenwrought stare laid heavily upon eset for a moment. he knew he should agree at once, and seize the moment to bid their queen see him not only as prince, but pharaoh. and yet as he glanced to the floor of his chambers she would see his hesitation, furthered as he considered that his place in the palace was far greater than that of the others.
"arrange a meeting with sapair, and another with harakhte," senmut said at last, straightening beneath what he felt was expectancy. "the queen has my ear at any hour, day or night," and this was a fine truth. had not makono called him often from his bed? he could do no less for her holy sister.
eset wished her lord to walk with her queen; he saw it; he knew it; and he quailed at it, not for lack of deepest affection or eternal loyalty, but simply for the fact he did not see himself as an option for their regent, and meant to put newer men before her, men with their own lineages far unsullied in comparison to his peasant's birth in a distant nome she would never know.
He is a self-made noble, more powerful through his own choices. A fact alone which elevates him in her own mind. Though she can make no following enquiries, no rebuttals. Even if she is a fellahin of some substance, she is a servant. It is not within her rank to continue to pry nor embolden him, and she has already risked enough in coming here, in shedding impartiality by backing his claim to the empty throne beside Toula. Her’s is not the voice to coax him.
But she is not wholly trounced. Perhaps the coming days would grow his resolve. Perhaps she can find a way to be more persuasive.
“I will at once, Erpa-ha, and I will send a small hunting party to the coast," she pulls into a bow before stepping back.
“I know Queen Toula and the realm are your chief concerns. May the gods bless you.”
<333
there passed the distinct feeling that eset knew more than what she spoke, that her eyes reached — beyond. as godhead of akashingo, senmut understood it was a greater thing than this sensation now felt.
was it not she who brought you a reminder of your place? and it was the god, rumbling beside the prince's ear. I am seen in all faces.
"may the gods also see fit to continue granting to our queen the most devoted shabti, by which her names are upheld." double-meaning; doubly-took. senmut watched eset a moment and then lifted his chin in release of her presence.
thank you <3
She would have feigned a frown had her eyes not glittered so dangerously for the briefest of moments, for what she comes to feel is a mutual understanding.
The common people took example from those above them, after all.