| |
The rattling of crockery in the hallway caused Imi and Betrest to pause, Imi with the looking disc angled on Betrest, who held a comb frozen in mid-air. Then Betrest shook her head and, with a sound of exasperation, walked to the semi-open door and pulled it wide.
“Nebet-i,” Hentmereb said a little too brightly from the other side of the door. “I brought you both some date tea. I thought you might enjoy the refreshment while you labour over Imi’s hair.” She held up the small wooden tray, upon which two mugs and a jug knocked against one another, spilling a few drops of thick, dark liquid onto the tray.
Catching sight of Imi’s blackened dress, Hentmereb exclaimed, “Imi! What have you done now?”
Before Imi could speak, Betrest reached for the tray of drinks and said, “Thank you, Hentmereb, that was very thoughtful of you. That will be all.”
Hentmereb seemed reluctant to relinquish the beverages, no doubt hoping to overhear their conversation, but Betrest pulled the tray from her hands.
Dismissed, the maid left Imi and Betrest alone again. Betrest resumed her braiding and Imi sipped her tea, savouring the thick, slightly grainy texture of soaked and smashed dates mixed with water.
“Are you,” Betrest cleared her throat, “in a delicate situation?”
Betrest’s question caught Imi by surprise. She swallowed the wrong way and ended up coughing.
Finally, Imi managed to rasp out, “Gods, no. I’m not pregnant. Nothing like that.” No man had shown that sort of interest in her since her break with Nehesy. Not unless one counted Ludim trying to force himself on her in order to gain control of her wealth.
“Are you certain?” Betrest laid a hand on Imi’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“It’s not always easy to know in the beginning. I am the last person to judge, darling, I promise. I’ll do all I can to help.”
Imi warmed at the woman’s kindness, recalling how Betrest’s first child had been conceived out of wedlock during the festival of Bastet, and how it had become public knowledge.
She tried to find the right words to explain. “No, I’m certain. It’s not a pregnancy. The problem is my father’s imyt-pr – his will. Most of it is clear. To his wife, Ludim’s mother, he left the house. To my brother Hamset, he left some land south of Thinis. But in my case, there is a problem with the wording. He left the fields we use to grow the base ingredients for our perfumes and incense ‘to my husband’. Of course, I don’t actually have a husband, and it has caused great confusion with the seru - the local elders who administer law. Almost a month ago I waited for hours with the other petitioners to ask the seru to review the will. After I explained the issue, it took them weeks of consultation to determine what to do.
“Four days ago, the seru finally told me I must seek my brother’s assistance, as he signed the will and agreed to my father’s terms. They won’t even consider altering anything unless Hamset can explain father’s conditions. That’s why I need to find him. And also, of course, because he hasn’t returned when he ought to. I asked Nehesy for assistance since he has a barge and knows people up and down the Iteru who might know something of Hamset, whereas I don’t know anyone outside of Thinis.”
Nor was it safe for a young woman to travel alone, particularly in some of the sparsely populated areas between Thinis and Swenett, where Hamset was stationed as a scribe for the local governor. Imi might admit to being impulsive sometimes, but she was not entirely without a sense of self-preservation. She knew she needed the protection of an escort, and the help of a man who knew how to get from one point to another, and who to talk to.
She continued, “The problem is that until the will is settled, the farm is in the hands of the master gardener. It was not such an urgent problem at first, when father passed, as the master gardener was a capable fellow. But he fell ill recently and is unlikely to recover. So now the garden is under the control of his son, who is as useless as a third nipple on a toad.”
“But, toads don’t have – ”
“I know,” Imi waved off Betrest’s comment. “That’s how useless he is. If things are not done in a timely fashion, I won’t be able to pay the workers, and the master gardener is already behind. I don’t want to rely on friends. I could have gone to stay with one of them, but they’re all married and have families to consider. I’d be a burden.” And alone on the edges of another family’s existence, watching her friends raise children and living the sort of life she’d once thought she’d have. Never mind that she’d have to explain that her father thought her incapable of managing the farmlands on her own and required a man to oversee her.
“I don’t want to leave the fields untended,” she added, “but unless Nehesy’s messenger returns with word of Hamset soon, I will have no choice but to go in search of him myself.”
Betrest took in a slow, contemplative breath. “So let me get this correct. If you don’t find your brother, you must marry someone. And quickly.”
“Yes. But marriage is impossible. I would rather throw myself to the crocodiles than marry Ludim, and I have no other prospects. I’m also past the age most girls marry.”
“Pfft,” Betrest dismissed Imi’s objections with a wave of her hand. “I was older than you when I met Amun, and it wouldn’t be hard to find you some eligible men.”
Imi shook her head. “Any man I marry would have to be trustworthy. My livelihood and my father’s life’s work would be in his hands. He must be either capable of managing the fields or allow me to have complete say. And I know of no man that I could trust so utterly.” Except one, and he was not an option.
Out of the corner of her eye, Imi could see Betrest tap her palm with a comb, eyes narrowed in thought. “What about a marriage of convenience? Your husband could sign over the land to you, correct?”
Frustrated, Imi expelled an angry breath and shook her head, “Not immediately. Father’s will is ridiculous and specific. I have to remain married – and living with the man – for at least three years before the farm can be turned over to me, unless my husband dies before then. Which is why I say any man I marry must be utterly trustworthy, or else he could seize control, divorce me, and I’d be left with nothing.”
Recalling the devastation that had torn through her upon hearing the terms of the will, Imi bit her bottom lip. She’d been so hurt that, despite all the years she’d worked alongside her father, blending perfumes, working in the fields and orchards, eager to please and impress, he’d deemed her unfit to manage the family trade alone.
In a thoughtful tone, Betrest said, “My brother has not yet married - ”
“No,” Imi said firmly, and repeated the old refrain, “We wouldn’t suit.” It’s not as if the thought of marrying Nehesy hadn’t crossed her mind. It had, the moment she’d begun to think clearly after hearing the awful terms of the will. But, knowing Nehesy didn’t want her, Imi refused to humiliate herself further by begging him to marry her.
“I see,” Betrest said. “So you wouldn’t marry Nehesy under any circumstances? Not even to save your inheritance?”
Rather than lie, Imi traced one finger along the edge of a make-up palette on the table and said, “I think it’s best if I find my brother and try to alter the will.” She didn’t want to think about what would happen if she couldn’t find Hamset, or if she discovered something awful had prevented him from returning.
Betrest asked gently, “And if there isn’t a way to change your father’s will?” She tucked the last comb into Imi’s braids before resting her hands on Imi’s shoulders and leaning forward so that her face was close to Imi’s. Her floral scent followed her in a light gust of air.
Betrest said, “Nehesy cannot leave Thinis until our father is interred. While you wait, let me help you. I can arrange a banquet and you can meet some men. If you find one of them tolerable, perhaps it will solve your problems. Let me do this for you, as the sister I might once have been.”
When Imi hesitated, Betrest squeezed her shoulder. “Wouldn’t you like to marry and have a family? Share your life with someone?”
Imi blinked as her eyes suddenly watered and her throat clogged. Once, she’d taken it for granted that she would do exactly what Betrest asked. Then her world had crashed down around her, and she’d come to believe no man would want her.
Betrest’s next question wiped away any impending tears.
“Or is it that you don’t want to share your life with a man, specifically?”
“A man, specifically?” Imi repeated, confused.
Betrest lowered her voice. “Would you rather share it with a woman?”
Imi’s jaw sagged. “A... oh!” She finally caught the mischievous gleam in Betrest’s eyes and had to laugh. “You’re teasing me.”
“A little. I just had to be sure, darling.” Betrest smiled, patting Imi’s shoulder. “I confess I wondered if that might be it when you told me you and Nehesy wouldn’t suit. It would be a little trickier finding a husband, though not impossible. There would need to be an understanding in place, first, about bedroom expectations. Not impossible, mind you. There are men who do not want to bed women, either, but want or need the appearance of a marriage. But that’s not your case at all, is it? You wouldn't mind sleeping with the right man.”
“I... no.” Imi frowned, flustered by Betrest’s knowing look. As if she knew exactly how Imi felt.
Looking down at her hands, fingers laced tightly to prevent her from damaging any more make-up pots or fabric, Imi said, “I am not against marrying. But I’m not the prettiest or most biddable of women. Nor am I the sort who will be able to advance a man’s career with my connections or social graces. I also intend to carry on my father’s work and make a name for myself. Although I have the farm and my father’s fame as a perfumer, I think it might be a trial to find me a husband.” She didn’t bother pointing out that, other than Ludim’s repellent proposition, she’d had no marriage offers at all.
Betrest flourished a hair pick. “Darling, you don’t know how much I love a challenge. And I don’t think it will be as hard as you imagine. It’s true some men are intimidated by an intelligent woman, but those men are too weak for you anyway. A smart man will find you fascinating. And lots of girls are simply ‘pretty’. Your face has personality. You have a stubborn chin that appeals, and then there are those freckles, those eyes, and...” here Betrest winked and gave her shoulder a little shimmy, emphasizing her bosom, making Imi laugh. “You are not lacking in certain charms, my dear. We shall make the most of them, you’ll see.”
Imi fidgeted with her dress, unused to such a plethora of compliments. “Could you do it without telling them exactly why I need to marry? I don’t want a man to marry me only to seize control of my assets, and well... it’s embarrassing that my father didn’t trust me enough to manage the fields on my own. That he felt I needed someone to oversee me.”
Few people knew Imi had done most of the scent blending over the last few years. Her brother Altakhsas was the one who was supposed to take over her father’s work. After Altakhsas passed, their father had accepted Imi’s assistance because she had a highly sensitive nose, but he’d never made it publicly known that she was involved. Still, they’d always been close, and he’d always been tolerant of her independent ways. It had come as a severe blow when she learned just how little he believed in her.
And she was talented, which made her father’s lack of confidence so hurtful. If she had faith in anything, it was that she was a damned good perfumer. If she could fully manage her fields and have the time to blend and work scents, she could work wonders. Her father had been more traditional in his blending, not wanting to experiment too much, or stray from the scents he knew were popular. But Imi would make a name for herself, if only she could settle her affairs.
Imi added, “Of course I would have to tell any prospective husband eventually about the will, but I’d rather the details of the will not get out, if possible.” Thankfully, although Ludim and his mother knew the terms of the will, neither of them travelled in the same circles as Betrest and Nehesy. Even if they told others, word of it was unlikely to reach the suitors Betrest chose to introduce to Imi.
Leaning one hip against the table and facing Imi, Betrest said, “I understand. We can simply say you’ve decided it is time for you to take a husband, and that you have the farm and family business as a legacy. In the meantime, Amun is wonderful with negotiations. He can see if anything can be done with the marriage contract to help get you control of the fields once you marry.”
Under such terms, Imi finally agreed to seriously consider any men Betrest put before her.
“Wonderful.” Betrest clapped her hands. “Now go find Hentmereb and ask her to draw you a bath. You have kohl all over you. Oh! And you’re tiny compared to me, but I’ll look through my clothes and find what can be altered to fit you, since that dress is likely ruined.”
Imi looked down to see that, along with the dust she’d spilled and then rubbed off the comb, she’d left sooty fingerprints all over her dress. She shook her head, sighing, and said, “Perhaps you should arrange an assortment of stone cutters, dung shovelers, or laundrymen – honest, hard workers who do not require a conventional wife to represent them. And who wouldn’t mind if I drop things or curse in front of the children...”
Laughing, Betrest said, “My husband was once a stone cutter, and the son of a slave. He might actually be able to recommend a few men. Now go.” Betrest waggled her fingers to indicate the door.
Thanking Betrest for her assistance, Imi hurried from the room.
***
Betrest tapped a comb against her palm as she watched Imi’s retreat from the bedroom. There was certainly more to Imi’s story, perhaps even more than Imi herself knew. Betrest had long wished to know what caused the broken engagement between her brother and the little perfumer. Imi, Altakhsas, and Nehesy had been inseparable for years. Nehesy refused to speak of it, but around the time of their split, he had begun to go a little wild, and had continued to do so until Amun invested in his shipping venture. Four years of sailing along the Iteru and at sea had given him purpose and a place to focus his energy. But it hadn’t made him happy. Nehesy was still restless, still trying to prove something to their father. Though now that father was gone Betrest had no idea what Nehesy would do.
And not for a moment did Betrest believe Imi had wanted to end the betrothal. It was clear as the sun in the sky that she was still in love with Nehesy. She became agitated and evasive at every mention of his name.
Whether or not Nehesy felt the same way about Imi remained to be seen.
With a nod to herself, Betrest resolved to find out what had caused the break between her brother and the little perfumer. And one way or another, she would see them both happy.