Two Eyes Cenote iii. ḫp ỉb

Of course she wanted those things. They were the forbidden dreams of anyone born to nothing; of any maidservant with aspirations to take command of her own life.

Eset retreats back into the stone as Sutekh pushes closer, turning her chin away against the heat of his breath on her neck.

“Respect is notably absent from your list, my Lord,” she dares to hiss, a far cry from the true part of her that wanted to shove him off. Confliction burned beneath her pelt; a war of attrition between the servant whose duty it was to see the royal son pleased in all ways, and the other who would cast him far from her palace. She did not believe Pharaoh would condemn her for confronting the prince, and yet- this was the culture of their people; the hierarchy of power. Eset wore her disobedience with all the comfort of a blade through the gut.

“You must have had a long day of travel, Neb Sutekh,” she speaks gently, her face still turned away, “perhaps you should rest.”