Two Eyes Cenote netsedjer

aiesha stayed with tavina for a time, and nazli was brought to the temple. her temple; this place where toula had been wed, and where the people of the kingdom could visit and make their pledges to their gods. she did not know what to expect of this place: whether it was well tended or left in disarray without the hemet and her usual routines, whether the central fixture — the sycamore reaching up and through the open chasm of the ceiling — remained intact, and already nazli was making mental lists of all the incense and offerings that needed to be presented here.

yet as she was brought to the temple, as she walked the corridor in to the atrium and towards the central plinth, she saw everything was done already. the carefully distilled oils had been refilled and fresh reeds placed carefully upright, like incense so that the perfumes could soak the bottoms. freshly ground pigments sat in shell disks, having been used in the morning to correct fading patches on the walls. someone was sweeping at the floor with some more reeds, smoothing the red of the soil as nazli might've done had she been doing her duties.

various fellahin looked to her with bright eyes, smiles, small bows; she felt a wave of emotion as she came to the plinth and stood there. pride, anxiety, awe; and she looked then for @Senmut, hearing his voice as he sang some small incantation during his prayer.

high priest had arrived the night before, laden with gifts from akashingo: a bundle of hawks-down, red hickory bark which might be soaked for a dye, salt scraped from stones beside the serpent river, snakeskins glittering in iridescent purple, these and sundry more items he had carried half-alone.

he had bid a servant bring these to @Eset, not seeking his bed but the dawn's first light, and through it he sang.

now he carried his gift for nazli to her temple: a round flake of abalone brought from the sea, and he had put upon it the mark of the Apis, a pendant.

he sang to her, and set down the gift where it lay wrapped in fine goat-skin upon a crush of lavender flowers. he saw her there upon her perch and sang again as the eyes turned toward her.

a servant came and brought a small bolt of furs, something from their own room, as a gift which was placed across nazli's shoulders. as the woman shrugged in to it she felt the weight of the servant's admiration and felt her own face redden further; and when she murmured thanks, the servant slipped away again to other work.

nazli peered again to senmut, watching him with great care.
it felt like she had missed so much; the many firsts of their daughter being chief among them, but also changes within muat-riya, or the palace — the birth of divine children! how could she dare sleep through that? oh! she was terrible.

she waits for senmut's prayer to end, and reaching for the comfort of his presence, says, first priest, then erpa-ha, now father. she wonders if he is happy.

eyes shone then, for his delight was purely crystalline. "i am delighted. each step of my day has purpose, nazli. the gods gave me more than i deserved in you and in aeisha."

he was careful not to stray toward worshipfulness, but she would see it, living flame in his eyes as he gazed upon her, as he lifted her paw upon his own to his lips.

where royals walked, both their heads bowed; but here in the woven bower of song and flowers and godslight, they were free to summon one another as equal altars.

"i want to leave akashingo," he said finally, hushed, into the curve of one ear. "i fear the balance will be disturbed, but i long so much to be here, with you."

senmut had been there through the weeks of her sleeping and her illness. he would not be permitted to stay in muat-riya for much longer with his duties mounting, and nazli knew that. she found herself thinking of the day and growing sad, but saw the love in his face and honeyed words, and focused instead upon that.

i wish you would stay with me. it was selfish; nazli had a daughter now and it was all she'd ever wanted! yet she was afraid to be alone with the girl. she was afraid to be without senmut's support. a heavy sigh creeps from her. but you are needed. you are loved here as father, but you are needed there too.

she looks now upon the altar, and around to the painted walls, the ornaments, the sycamore.
what if we went there? a hushed voice now, contemplative. would it earn them judgement? to have their miracle child paraded in the palace — this magic which had been reserved for divinity, stolen by a mere hemet?

she wonders.

"i do not want you anywhere near rashepses."

he had never told nazli of what had happened in the wellspring; he did not speak of his twisted feelings upon the matter; he did not mention a breath.

now it came to life in his gem-bright eyes, a plea for his priestess not to ask. "we must bear the separation, i am afraid, despite what i wish. but — i will ask a holiday from the palaces, for us both and aeisha; we will go to the place where ramesses took his second queen on their wedding-journey."

the oasis beside the serpent; yes. "in my heart we are one."

Rashepses?

A question, no, questions, they came springing to mind; but the look upon her beloved said not to ask, and so she would not. She trusted him; and she trusted his jugement of the divine ones. They shared a history with the previous pharaoh and while Nazli was fond of the woman in charge, she did not know much about the consort she had chosen. If Senmut was wary, she would trust it was for a reason.

As he spoke of a wedding-journey, Nazli's mind sparked again. This time she did have words, and they were mirthful. I will count the days.

Pressing her forehead to his, wanting to be close, forever.