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The morning after breaking into her father’s workshop, Imi squatted before the small firepit in Betrest's courtyard and poured a measure of lettuce oil into a heavy ceramic pot. Under this pot rested another filled with water and set on a grate over the firepit. She slid a couple of pucks of compressed, dried donkey dung into the pit along with a few twigs, then lit the fire.
Despite having returned to Betrest's with her crate of supplies just a short time ago, Imi had risen from her bed as soon as Ra lifted the sun across the sky. Not only could she not sleep – her mind in too much of a whirl thanks to Nehesy and their nocturnal activities – it was best to get to work early in the day, for working over steaming oil was sweltering at the best of times. In the heat of the flood season, it was almost unbearable. For that reason, she and her father always did the bulk of their production in the colder months.
But Imi had a new perfume in mind to craft. One that she hoped would prove valuable enough to pay for the labourers she needed to dig her trenches.
She had Nehesy to thank for that. If he hadn't come to her aid last night, Ludim might have caught her, a thought that made her shudder with disgust. Or she might not have been able to obtain her supplies at all. Getting back over the high wall with a heavy crate – and then back through town with it – hadn't factored into her plan.
Furthermore, if her bag of supplies hadn't smashed the night she'd tried to sneak onto Nehesy’s boat, she'd never have thought to combine cinnamon and orange blossoms. Most perfumers distilled one single scent, rather than combining them into more complex fragrances. Imi's father hadn’t liked to mix and had discouraged her from experimenting. People like to know what they're getting, he'd said. Concentrate on making a reliable product, one that will remain stable for years to come.
But Imi had always appreciated the various ways that people smelled when they used more than one product. Like the combination of Nehesy's hair resin, his body oil, and a scented soap warmed by the heat of his skin and mingling with his unique, masculine scent.
That evoked not just a common fragrance that any person could have. It held memories, hopes, desires, projections for the future. Things connected to him and him alone.
Things she'd rather not think about right now, because really, what was more maddening than being brought to climax, only to be reminded that actual sex was a bad idea? Oh sure, he might say it was because she deserved better, and that sex complicated matters. And to hear him say he didn’t want to lose her – as a friend – was both heart-warming and like being splashed with frigid water. Some might say he was being considerate, and perhaps he was... but he’d also said that her first time should be with someone who would marry her.
And Nehesy would never marry her. Because while he might want her body – and after last night she believed he truly did – he did not want her. Not permanently.
Nothing was more frustrating than that.
Except not having control over her fields, her person or her future. Or having a place of her own to live, or any family left in the living world...
All right, there were certainly worse things than sexual and emotional frustration. That didn't mean she wasn't still exasperated by last night's activities. Or lack thereof.
But if she was right, cinnamon and orange blossom combined with lettuce oil should produce a scent that was irresistible. Lettuce was considered an aphrodisiac, due to its phallic shape and the milky liquid secreted by the stem when cut. But adding some rare cinnamon from foreign lands, and the delicate citrus of orange blossoms, ought to induce a state of... well, she wasn't entirely certain if lust was the right word, but desire, at the very least.
A scent that she would market as exclusive and charge a whole lot for. If she could pay a few dozen labourers, that would be a step towards saving her fields.
Too bad inducing a state of desire in Nehesy wasn’t a problem for her. If only the scent induced a state of desperately wanting to spend the rest of one’s life with another.
Imi picked up one of the only vials of perfume that had survived her tussle with Nehesy at the docks. She pulled the cap off and sprinkled a small amount of the scented oil on the ground as an offering to Nefertem, god of perfume, scent, and cosmetics.
Then she sat back on her haunches and called to mind an image of Nefertem. In her mind, he was a handsome fellow, not unlike Nehesy, usually wearing a cluster of lotus blossoms on his head. It was said he sometimes took on some of the properties of his mother, Sekhmet, and became a lion-headed god, or rode a lion himself. Imi had always liked that particular aspect of him. He could be soft and compassionate, and brought joy and healing with his fragrance. But he could also be fierce and proud, like his mother.
Like Imi, too. Or so she liked to think.
Whenever she crafted a fragrance, be it incense or soap or body oil, Imi called upon Nefertem to bless her scent and infuse it with beneficial properties. Her skin tingled as she tried to envision the beautiful, powerful god, striding towards her across the desert. A man who walked in an aromatic cloud that induced a state of euphoria, healing, and peace.
Instead, what she was Nehesy, lounging against a tree in the darkness outside her father's home, as he'd appeared last night. Powerful indeed, but not in the least bit peaceful. More like a predator in the shadows, waiting to catch her in the act of doing something terribly silly. Which he had.
And then she saw Nehesy as he had been on the beach last night, hovering over her, his features intent as he brought her to climax with his fingers. It had been more intense and glorious than she'd ever imagined possible. Her skin prickled and her inner muscles clenched with the memory of that racking orgasm.
Her ankle itched, causing her leg to jerk. She scratched at it automatically, before she could stop herself. The downside of rolling about in the sand, of course, were the sand fleas that occasionally feasted on one's flesh.
Alright, perhaps Nehesy had been right that making love on a beach without a blanket might not be such a practical idea. She’d hate to be itching in other, more intimate places.
Imi sighed, opened her eyes, and looked down at the red bumps on her ankles. So much for Nefertem's blessing.
She selected several pieces of shaved cinnamon bark and a handful of orange blossoms from the crate and dropped them into a linen pouch. She tied it all up with a long piece of flax twine and submerged it into the heated lettuce oil over the firepit.
There wasn't much to do now but keep the flames low and the oil warm. She would stir the pot occasionally throughout the day, then let it steep for another day or so. Ideally, she'd heat the oil for several days and let the ingredients steep. But she didn't have that much time.
When the oil was ready, she'd bottle it in beautiful alabaster jars which...
Oh no. She stared down at the crate in horror.
She had no alabaster jars. A sick feeling curdled in her stomach. She closed her eyes against it. In her rush last night, she'd not grabbed the box of jars.
Her head fell forward to rest on her knees as she fought back a wave of nausea. Somehow, she'd have to obtain new jars. Unless she was willing to risk going back to the workshop and stealing them. Her whole body rebelled at that. They'd been so close to getting caught last night that it felt like tempting fate and the gods to attempt another nocturnal visit. And she'd promised Nehesy she wouldn't put herself in harm's way again.
"Are you siiiick?" a voice came from beside her.
Imi jerked her head up. A small child stood next to her, clutching a doll made of unbleached linen, and a wig that looked very similar to the sorts Betrest wore. Head shaved like most children to avoid lice, and naked save for a wrap skirt, this was Betrest and Amun's oldest daughter, Aua. Imi hadn't spent much time with the children, except at mealtimes when they were wont to dominate the attention of their parents. The littlest one tended to crawl or stumble off while Aua chatted about anything and everything.
"Are you?" the girl repeated, holding the doll to her chest.
"Am I... no. I'm not sick. Not really." Imi frowned. Perhaps it was wrong to lie to a child, but she suspected a positive answer would lead to more questions.
"Then what are you doing?"
"I'm... waiting. To stir my perfume." Imi gestured to the bag steeping in the oil and adjusted herself so that she was sitting cross-legged.
"I like perfume." The girl's face lit up, and she gave Imi a toothy grin. One that, for a heart-stopping moment, reminded her of Nehesy as a young boy. Of those lazy, carefree days laying on the banks of the Iteru, drying their skin in the sun after swimming or fishing. Sneaking honey buns from the kitchen, climbing trees, teasing one another until they laughed so hard tears streamed down their faces and their cheeks hurt. Nehesy grinning at her last night before they broke into her father’s workshop.
If Nehesy had a little girl, she might look like Aua.
Imi couldn't help but smile back at Betrest’s daughter, even though the rush of memories made her want to cry. "You like perfume? Do you know how it's made?" Having no younger siblings or relatives had left Imi with little knowledge of what to do when presented with a small child. Thankfully, Aua seemed inclined to make things easy.
Aua shook her head, eyes wide now with hope and possibilities.
"Would you like me to show you?" This, at least, was something she could do. She might not have bottles to pour the perfume in to, but she could show this girl how to make it.
Aua nodded with such enthusiasm her wig slipped to the side. The girl righted it, and asked, "Can I sit with you?"
Before Imi could answer, Aua had unexpectedly climbed into her lap and sat with her back to Imi's chest. Imi froze at the unfamiliar sensation of having a small, warm bundle nestled against her. What was she to do with it?
Then the girl began bouncing lightly and tapping her feet. Not unlike the way Imi herself might have crawled into her father's lap as a child. Her heart seemed to squeeze a little tighter.
Was this what it felt like to have children? This sense of wonder, terrifying uncertainty, and a strange desire to protect and teach? How frightening. How... interesting. Imi's friends had all married and some had children. Meanwhile, she'd been too busy helping her father to spend much time with them. She'd pushed aside thoughts of marriage and bearing children as things that were unlikely to happen.
"What do we do?" Aua asked, heels kicking at the dirt. "Can I stir it?"
"Ah, it's hot so we have to be careful. Why don't I show you what I've got in my crate here, and you can sniff some of my incense?"
"Uncle Nehesy's hair smells nice. Can we make something like that?"
Imi gave a tight smile. "Uncle Nehesy's hair does smell nice. But he uses resin for his hair, which is different than the perfume we're making today. Do you know where resin comes from?"
The girl's head whipped back and forth.
"Uncle Nehesy's resin comes from a tree south of Kemet. It's special. When you cut into a myrrh tree, it leaks a sap that smells wonderful. Then people dry it into a small, sticky nugget. Let's see if we can find a little in this crate, shall we?"
While Imi and Aua rummaged through her supplies, Aua oohing and ahhing with every new scent, Imi's mind wandered.
She needed to sort out the issue of the missing bottles. She needed something to trade, or some form of credit. A few of her regular customers might be willing to allow her to refill their bottles, or would have old ones she could use, but most would expect new ones. If she really wanted to market this new scent properly, having special bottles would make them more marketable.
Nehesy’s face flitted through her mind. She knew he would help if she asked. But her pride refused to consider it. The last thing she wanted was him helping because he pitied her or felt guilty about what had happened between them. Besides, he’d made it clear he was leaving Thinis as soon as possible and he wouldn’t want to get tangled in her affairs.
But Nehesy had gotten help starting his business. Betrest’s husband had invested and loaned him the capital to get started. They’d become partners.
Inspiration struck. Perhaps she might consider taking on a partner also. Someone with wealth and taste, who could help source fine alabaster bottles in a hurry. Of course. Imi smiled. She knew just who to ask.
With the bottle problem hopefully resolved, Imi allowed herself to relax and focus more on Aua’s chatter. If she followed through with Betrest's plan to marry her off, perhaps she might have children of her own one day. Children she could pass her father's legacy on to, as he had for her. Ones who would sit in her lap just like Aua and laugh with her and hug her. Ones who would love her, even if she was odd and unruly and covered in spots.
Perhaps marriage with the right man had some benefits beyond just gaining control of her fields again. All she needed to do was find a man who actually wanted to marry her.
Before that, however, she needed to bottle and sell the perfume brewing over the firepit right now. If she couldn’t do that, she might not have much of a legacy to pass on, even if she did find a husband