Two Eyes Cenote iii. ḫp ỉb

@Eset

he'd heard the second palace of the red sands be named, but he'd to see it. this had to change. 

the travel was not long, and the day had been pleasant. 

when he arrived upon the border, it was with relaxed posture and a content expression. 

and after sending a fellahin ahead to speak of his arrival, he waited to be welcomed in. maybe he was one of akashingo, but he still knew to mind his manners in a place that did not know him.

There would have been no time to prepare for the approach of a noble, which was why Eset was gratified that the palace was always kept in impeccable order. Scrubbed, ornamented, shimmering with stippled mica walls and fresh-cut bouquets of primrose that perfumed the grotto air.

The hebsut was swift to receive the lord from Akashingo, taking little time to study him before arching into a bow. Only when admitted would she rise and regard him with much esteem.

“Neb Sutekh, to what do we owe the honor of this visit?” Her sunlit eyes settle upon the proud blond furs that frame his face.

a woman came. she searched, and then she bowed. 

he waved away the gesture with a steady hand, ember hues taking their time to study her. longer than she'd done for him.

hebsut eset, is it? he questions with a carefully lifted brow. 

chatter of muat-riya moves through the palace often. I thought it right to see the place for myself. and see it all it had to offer. 

it is certainly much of what I was hoping for. and then with yet another beautiful woman before him? perhaps even more. he couldn't help but say it aloud.

“It is,” her face lights with great satisfaction to hear high regard from their suzerain pack. She wonders if in the next breath Neb Sutekh is consulting his own feelings or gratifying her’s. She makes no sudden answer, beholding him in a silent vie for his character before addressing him again. That she might turn the face of any man of rank was a surprising compliment, and still she could not help but wonder if her past was so transparent in the way she holds herself.

“I shall let all of Muat-riya know, they will be thrilled to hear such high praise,” she smiles and invites the neb to follow her. “It is even more beautiful inside. May I offer you a tour of our palace, Lord Sutekh?”

and all of muat-riya would hear the praise had come from his lips alone. that they would all know of his presence, and what new royal blood the red sands called one of theirs.

a tour would be lovely, he answers in a low, smooth hum. 

she does not seem as wary of his presence as the nebet racharra was. and this delights him. 

walking with a fair distance between them, yet still close enough, he regards her with more words in tow. how many do you house here, hebsut? he is curious to know of what fruits he might find here. hopefully, there are of many!

Toward the vaulted entrance she leads Sutekh, conscious of him at her flank but warming to his admiration. Muat-riya was always eye-catching, situated well on rising ground, backed by a ridge of high stone and woody hills; the falls which fed the cenotes below trilling peacefully.

“We are still growing, though our numbers have settled for now. There are several adults and a litter of puppies residing here.” Though with their hemet’s pregnancy, they were soon to expand again. “Are you from a local kingdom, Neb Sutekh?” She asks politely and leads him through the winding pathways into the great room where the twin cenotes ripple in their grand expanse and vines drape like silk curtains around.

“These are the cenotes, the most remarkable feature of our palace,” she leans over the edge to place a hand in the cooling waters, “It is here where we bathe.”

there was indeed great beauty and uniqueness here. he took it all in with a keen eye and hidden adoration. his home had been a sight too—but this place might have been better. it made him almost prideful, now, to know that this was the sort of place he resided instead. 

I come from khetuyut, a palace within the southern oasis. it is beautiful there, with many pools and ponds of deep blue.

where her hand goes, his larger one follows, absently touching her own. he has the decency to move return it quickly, eyes adverting. 

or maybe it is only a show. 

apologies... clearing his throat, he glances out over the water. it is an impeccable space. I could see myself spending an enjoyable time here, ensuring a leisurely pace in how I am bathed. 

and as his eyes look upon her again, he cannot stop the images of her there with him in the water, steady hands preening his golden fur until it glowed bright like the sun.

There’s a sharp jolt when she looks down to see his hand covering her own. Eset pulls her paw away, shooting him a startled look. She is not so naive to believe it an accident, and certainly not when followed by the careful wording of his next, despite the interposed apology.

“It’s all right,” she allays habitually. When she looks into his face again she tenses to see something like hunger there.

She is obligated to serve her kingdom’s neb, to see he is taken care of here. Innocence was a luxury, and Eset knew her gods did not demand it. But she was no longer bound to entertain the courtiers in all ways, and so before where she would have expressly offered the noble man a bath, Eset only inclines her head politely. She no longer feels as though she might break apart at any moment. She is not so fine, and not so fragile.

“Of course. A bath can be prepared for you later, my Lord,” she continues with the tour, escorting him now into the ballroom. “What has brought you to our Kingdom?” She asks, turning the subject.

the apology is accepted, but he feels as though she sees the truth in him. that alone frightens him in a way, for he is careful in his ways. perhaps not enough with this one. but that only goes to intrigue him further. 

and would it be the great hebsut to prepare this bath, or another? he cannot help but question, the hunger still present, but turned more bright and playful. 

or did she see herself too beneath completing such a task, lest he request her specifically? he was not above using his title to the whims of his will, but maybe now he would not be so cruel. or else he might scare her away.

if she answered, he would know. but if not, he would be left to wonder.

i am sent here to form an alliance. it was my father's will for me to marry. but I suppose, we shall see how that goes.  or so he says. 

if he had his way, which he nearly always does, it will indeed be via marriage.

“I can, Lord Sutekh, if it is your wish,” she answers, holding his face in profile and wondering if it is his aim to find a wife here, in the summer palace. Eset turns for the murals in what she hopes is sufficient encouragement to admire them- though she cannot take her mind from Racharra. As a nebet, she would be the most suitable partner for the nobleman. Sutekh is stark and confident and of a lofty standing, but Eset wonders if Racharra would feel prepared for marriage at such a young age.

“Akashingo is powerful ally. Your home sounds a fair bit like Muat-riya,” she remarks as they amble through a gallery of works.

it pleases me to know you are an option. and his small grin does indeed show this. 

akashingo is a fine place, as is muat-riya. as both are of one ruler, of which I find a wife does not matter too much to me. it is simply dependent on what women are named suitable candidates by our dear pharaoh.

She bites her tongue, fighting against the better judgment to uphold the etiquette asked of her position. For the length of several strides she conserves her pleasant countenance, but as they veer left out of the ballroom and down a thoroughfare and Eset turns to confront him, full tail flicking at her hocks.

“Are we talking about a bath, Lord Sutekh? Or marriage?”

she turns on him, and oh, does his grin widen. 

to him, this had become a game he was far too eager to play. regardless of how she saw it. 

he'd only been referring to the bath. but now that she'd asked it, he thought it only fair to allow her the chance to humor him. that depends on whether you are, in fact, an option for both.

“Pharaoh does not arrange marriages in her kingdom, my Lord,” Eset informs him, standing with confidence in spite of her small stature. His face glistens with an amusement she wishes she could bite off.

“It is the choice of a wife as much as it is her husband,” she continues. Muat-riya was her palace beneath the reign of Toula, and no one else could make a command of her, regardless of her status as unpartnered. Neb Sutekh offered the alliance and protection of another kingdom, but surely could he be refused if his choice of wife declined a marriage?

The cowolf swallows, her throat running dry. It is his firm self-assurance which brings her own into wilting question.

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so they didn't arrange marriages around here. that was good to know.

and do you not think that I could make my choice of a wife want me in return? he questions in a low, sultry tone, brow lifting.

there is much that I can offer that most women would not refuse in such a match.

keyword, most. but would this one be an exception?

a step closer, and he was nearly breathing down her neck. wealth, land, comfort, affection, pleasure... he watched her carefully, itching to see any glint of desire towards any of these things.

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.”

her patience and temper wane. he can see it. but it doesn't deter him.

no — it will only serve to spur him on; for he enjoys it immensely. 

respect is absent, but that is not a permanent thing. it is one thing that must be earned in a union, not given freely. he'd previously thought her one of a bright mind. should she have known this already?

he could prod further, but he decides to leave it at that. wearing her out too quickly would only diminish his fun. 

yes, a long day indeed, he drawls, eyes narrowed slightly. a bath would do, then a chamber to rest before i return to the red palace.

moving from her space, he looks onward toward the spring. fetch your finest fellahin to see to me, and another to prepare refreshments when i am finished.

and with that, he dismissed the woman, the spark of interest for her in his eyes doused entirely.

“Yes, my Lord,” her lips thin into a look of compliance. It is her cutlass she saves for when his back is turned, and only then are the full span of her breaths returned.

The hebsut pitches from the wall, summoning a fellahin to prepare a bath while disappearing down the hall to arrange his bedchamber with all their grandest assorted accouterments; bobcat furs, spiced aromatics, distilled prickly pear and all the uncut gems to thrill the eye. Enough pampering, perhaps, that the prince would fail to make mention of this soured exchange with her superiors at the mesa.

Regardless, the neb's plan was to make a timely return to Akashingo, and so Eset's deeper consternations were for a time subdued.