I wait in the reception room. It’s a simple chamber with curved walls that are made of sandstone. Mural carvings show Isis and Osiris greeting other gods and goddesses when they come to visit. This is a room I knew about, but never used. My place was always in the family quarters.
Camilla steps into the room. She now wears a simple white sheath dress and looks radiant. For my part, I’m in a classic linen kilt and sandals. Although my chest is bare as is tradition, my hair is now long and neat. The one reminder of my previous raggedy look is my satchel, which I still keep strapped across my chest. No doubt, Camilla has hers as well, only it’s invisible right now.
I offer Camilla my arm. “Ready?”
Camilla gently rests her hand on my forearm. Together, we process out of the waiting room and
