eset, lovely fellahin who had become proud in the palace. yes. it was what palaces were meant to do, and he approved in his own silent way. only the most ambitious of servants could break from that class and perhaps marry upward, or become the concubine of a noble, an assured position with its own benefits.

he wondered how his own fared without the man of the home there to mediate any — difficulties between she and his wife. baketmut had been the only way khusobek had a son of his own. the fact that the concubine had given a son at once while she went on to conceive daughters a second time had humiiated his wife henuttawy. he could only hope she was not so harsh upon baketmut in his absence.

benefits, indeed. but it was one of the highest roles a servant woman could achieve, unless she found some lonely and lesser noble to give her a small estate and a handful of servants. but such marriages had always been arranged by pharaoh, and it was unlikely for a fellahin to become a noble.

why was he thinking of this? of home, of his own estate, his servants, the good beer. the lack of courtplay. the familiarity of his women and children.

but it had never been enough, and he was a fool to pretend otherwise. a rich home, a wife, a concubine, and four children had not kept him from going to hatshepsuun's bed at once, the taste of her power too relentless for her palace captain to even consider foregoing.

the red stone had been polished, its woven circlet dusted carefully as he waited. no one could call the small crimson rock a gem, but it held its own luster, and the craftwork of the binding was skilled. he blinked and returned to himself, pouring back into the small room and akashingo.

she entered. khusobek straightened, and held it out upon his paw. "it is proper that you are rewarded for your service, eset. you made my quarters welcoming. i was not going to add anything to them. but returning in the evening has been pleasant."

the stone glinted in the center of his rough palm.