Hathor's Temple
234 Words
I'm bathed in water infused with jasmine and rose petals. Hathor's Priestessess chant as they rub spiced oil into my hair. Masuma stands in the corner of the bathhouse, holding my towel.
It's been nearly a week of these sorts of rituals. At this point, I'll probably smell of jasmine and roses forever. That's probably the point. I'm supposed to be perfect. Perfect for at least 20 years, that is.
My mind keeps drifting to the idea I had in the palanquin. A Manservant would be nice. Someone to whom I could do anything I wanted. Someone who I could lather with spices and humiliate. Someone who could scratch that itch deep inside me.
The thought makes me smile.
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The priestesses have an elaborate gown prepared for my pilgrimage back to the palace. It's a sheer, white thing with golden coins sewn in to dangle around me. The coins chime against one another as I walk.
My feet are adorned with jewelry. Diamond rings on my middle toes connect to long chains that wrap around my ankles and up my shins all the way to my knees. The chains are littered with precious stones that clang together as I walk. I couldn't sneak up on anyone in this.
My days of sneaking are done for the foreseeable future. I am now in the official garb of the Kada. Yay me.
- Writer
