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Imi drifted in a lovely haze as Nehesy rose from the bed. His strong, lean, naked body was outlined by the soft morning sunlight filtering through the white curtains. Like Ra raising the sun through the sky at dawn, she thought in a silly, absent way. She admired the curve of his buttocks, the bulging muscles of his flanks.
This was the sort of sweet, quiet moment a married couple would share as they prepared for the day together. Sharing little knowing smiles and bumping past one another as they dressed and did their hair. Breaking their fast seated side by side, or across from one another, on cushions about a low table. Eventually there might be children, and then there would be more people for Imi to love, and to love her in turn. She would belong to someone, or someones, and they would belong to her. She would not be adrift and alone in the world.
Foolish thoughts. But Imi allowed herself to pretend, for just a moment, that this could be her and Nehesy.
When Nehesy returned with a damp cloth to wipe away the residue of their lovemaking, his light touch tickled. Her whole body was sensitive and sore, but in the most decadent way. As if she’d eaten a wonderful meal that had stuffed her until she was almost ill, but she couldn’t regret it because it had been so delicious.
Except this was a hundred times better.
Nehesy flopped onto the bed next to her, wrapped an arm about her waist, and drew her to him. She smiled when he pressed his lips to her shoulder.
They lay like this for a time, neither speaking.
Could he be thinking the same things as her? She was afraid to ask.
The household was quiet, servants and masters sleeping after a late night. Even the children were silent. But soon, she and Nehesy would have to part, and Imi would have to face Betrest and Amun and explain the hash she’d made of the evening.
“Tell me about the imyt-pr – the will,” Nehesy said, rising on his side and resting his head in the palm of his hand.
Imi sighed. Ah, and she’d have to face that, too. “My father’s imyt-pr is wrong,” she said.
“Wrong how?”
Imi reached for the bedsheet to drag over her naked body. Not out of modesty, but as if it might somehow shield her from the embarrassment of her confession. And also because she needed something to fidget with. “It stipulates that father’s farmland be left to my husband. Since I have no husband, the land falls under the control of the master gardener, until such time as I marry. And then the land still goes to my husband. Unless we remain married for five years, at which time I can take control.”
Outrage distorted Nehesy’s features. “What was he thinking, leaving you in such a situation? Is the imyt-pr old? From... before?”
“From before you ended our betrothal?”
He looked pained, as if he disliked her phrasing. So be it. It was true. But he motioned for her to continue.
“I wish the imyt-pr was old. Then I’d have good reason to argue for breaking the terms. Unfortunately, it was recent and dated. He left the house to Ludim’s mother, and some land to my brother Hamset.” If it had been before their betrothal ended, there would have been no mention of his new wife. And her brother Altakhsas likely would have been the one to inherit the lands, since their father had always intended for him to take over the fragrance work. But then Altakhsas had died, and Imi had served as a stand-in for her brother.
“But...” Nehesy shook his head, clearly as confused as she’d been when she’d first learned the truth. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
She gave him an incredulous look. “Why do you think? You’re my ex-betrothed that I haven’t spoken to in... what... seven years?”
He opened his mouth. Closed it in a flat, hard line. Nodded. “Alright. I suppose I deserved that.” He was quiet for a moment, glaring at the window curtains. Then, “Does my sister know? Is that why she planned the banquet for you? Because you need to marry?”
Imi nodded, her fingers twisting in the bedsheets, then smoothing them out. “She wanted to help me find a husband. One I can trust to let me have control of my fields.” Anger tinged her voice, and she forced herself to relax. She couldn’t let some man run her parents’ lifework into the muck.
She said, “Amun is trying to break the terms of the will, but it looks unlikely to work. The local elders who administer law won’t listen to me. They say since Hamset signed the imyt-pr with father, he must explain the conditions before they consider changing anything.”
She didn’t tell him about the trouble she was having with the master gardener’s son. She’d said enough already, and it was humiliating. Her own father hadn’t trusted her.
Nehesy lay back on the bed, studying the ceiling.
Imi sat cross-legged and picked at the bedsheet.
“What are you thinking?” she asked when she couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
“Marry me,” he said.
Imi blinked. “Wh-what?”
He sat up, and pried her fingers from the sheet, holding them in his. “You need a husband, I’m not married, so why not marry me?"
Hope soared in Imi's chest, but she ruthlessly tamped it down. She slipped her hands from his grasp. She couldn’t think when his warm, calloused fingers – fingers that had been inside her not so long ago, were touching her.
She took a deep breath and tried to gather her thoughts. "Why are you asking?" she said carefully. It didn't matter, a part of her protested. This was Nehesy! He wanted to marry her, and she should say yes. She'd been willing to consider marriage to men who were primarily interested in her inheritance. And Nehesy’s friend Mahu, who didn't know her at all but was enamoured with the idea of her – whatever that was.
But it was because this was Nehesy she needed to know why he was asking after all these years.
His brows drew together. "Because you need help, and we’re friends."
Her heart felt like an obelisk plummeting to the bottom of the ocean. Awful, irretrievable. Her body turned cold, too, like she was immersed in frigid waves. "Because we’re friends," she said flatly.
“Listen,” he reached for her again, but she leapt off the bed. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Imi, I know I haven’t been a very good friend the last few years. I wasn’t there for you when Altakhsas passed. Or when your father’s ka departed. And none of this with Ludim would have happened if we’d gotten married in the first place.”
Of course. It wasn’t that he actually wanted to marry her. Or because he loved her. Did he even desire her, or was he just taking pity on poor, spotty Imi, and sleeping with her because she’d thrown herself at him? Or was he so full of his own importance that he couldn't acknowledge he might desire her?
She grabbed the first bit of fabric she could find and tried to wrap it about herself, though her hands trembled. "You want to feel better about yourself, is that it? You feel bad because you haven’t been a good friend?"
"What? No. That’s not it." He climbed out of bed, too, reaching for her, but she dodged away. He raked a hand through his hair. "I mean, yes, of course I feel bad. But we like each other, and we get along well enough. Most of the time," he added when she glared at him. "And we were supposed to marry anyway."
"But we didn't."
"Right. About that..."
"Nothing has changed, Nehesy." Imi’s whole body was shaking now, she was so angry. "You said we wouldn't suit, remember?”
“I said that?” He frowned. “I never said that. But,” he looked at her sharply, “you’ve said it a few times lately. What are you talking about?”
“The night you broke our betrothal. You told me that you couldn’t marry me because we wouldn’t suit, that your circumstances had changed, and that we were better off as friends. Because, clearly, I wasn’t good enough for you anymore.”
He winced. “I never meant that. It was a stupid thing to say. I didn’t realize that was how I phrased it. I’d been...”
“You were drunk. Yes, I realized that afterwards.”
“So why did you go along with it? Your father could have enforced the betrothal contract.” He raked his hands through his short hair again and sat down on the bed. He cast about the bits of clothing on the floor, and she scooped up another piece of fabric. His or hers, she didn’t know. She threw it at him.
He caught it with one hand.
Argh. She wished it had hit him in the face. “What should I have said? ‘Oh no, don’t leave me, Nehesy?’ I would never marry someone who doesn’t want me. And you were right. You were running with a different crowd of people. You hardly ever saw me and Altakhsas anymore. Your new friends were too exciting. There were too many taverns to visit, and too many brothels to explore.”
“I never visited a brothel while we were engaged.”
“Congratulations!” The word exploded from her. “You sure did after, didn’t you? No wonder you were in such a hurry to break our betrothal. You must have been dying to have sex, since you ran out and did it with half the women in town. So I’m glad we didn’t get married, because you probably would have been a terrible husband.”
He flinched. She slapped a hand over her mouth and gave a muffled curse. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
He gave a forced laugh, looking a little unsteady as he stood and tied the fabric about his waist. “No. You’re right. It’s one of the real reasons I thought we shouldn’t marry. When I said we wouldn’t suit, I meant that I wouldn’t suit. That I was unsuitable as a husband. I would have made a terrible husband back then. I was far too absorbed in myself and my own troubles and didn’t want to inflict that on you.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that, except now she was the one who felt bad. She’d lashed out because she’d been so jealous at the time, it was like being smacked in the face every time she heard another story of Nehesy’s romantic conquests or exploits. Now that she’d been intimate with him, it was even harder to bear the thought of him with other women.
“I can’t promise I’ll be the best husband.” He gave a lopsided smile. “But you’ll have control of your fields, and my wealth besides. And I’ll be gone most of the time so you can do as you please. What do you say, Sprout?” His teasing tone and twinkling eyes should have charmed her.
Except that this was worse than anything she had imagined. To have what she wanted within her reach, but to have it be all wrong. She hugged herself with one arm and put the other palm to her forehead.
She closed her eyes.
Took a deep, shuddering breath.
And shook her head. “That’s not what I want,” she whispered.
“What?”
She looked up. There was hurt on Nehesy’s face. And surprise. “What did you say?”
She steadied her voice and spoke louder. “That’s not the sort of marriage I want. First off, if you’re gone within a week or two, Ludim can claim it's a sham marriage. I need to stay married and living with my husband for three whole years before the elders will turn over my inheritance. Because a married couple lives together. That’s what makes it a marriage. I could totally lose control over my property if I’m accused of trying to cheat the terms of the imyt-pr. And where am I supposed to live while you're sailing away?"
"Here, with my sister. Bee would be happy to have you stay. She’s always wanted a siser. She and Amun would keep you safe," he said promptly.
"With your... are you mad? What about a family? I want that. Children, a husband, all of that. For me. I don't want to just watch your sister and Amun mooning over one another, while my husband flees to the other side of the living world as soon as he can get away from me. Don’t you ever think you might want a marriage like they have? Well I have, and I do. I want that!" Imi thumped a fist on her chest. "I want someone who wants me."
"No!" she flung a hand up when he opened his mouth. "I'm not going to be some way for you to make yourself feel better. I was fourteen years old when you ended our engagement. You did that. Not me. And now you feel bad about it. Well, I’m sorry, but I don't want to marry someone who still thinks of me as a child in need of saving, or who makes me feel like I owe them something for being my 'friend' and rescuing me."
He looked stricken, as if she'd slapped him. She'd been waving her hands about, she realized, but she hadn't actually hit him, even if she sort of wanted to.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he protested.
“It doesn’t matter, Nehesy. I won’t marry you.” She'd told him everything, or near to it, and she was weary of it now. "I think you should go.”
"Wait, Imi, listen-"
“Go. Now.” Hands on his shoulders, she turned him around and pushed him towards the door. He protested, but the moment he was out in the hall, she slammed it shut with her on the inside.
"Imi," he called softly through the door.
"Go away!" She threw herself on the bed, wrapping her arms around a cushion and watching the door. She wanted him to burst through it and profess his undying love for her equally as much as she wanted to never see him again. She was furious. She was heartbroken. She was that stupid, heartsick child all over again. How had she let it come to this point? How could she have let him hurt her all over again?
But all was quiet on the other side of the door.
"Gah!" She flung the cushion at the door. It slid to the ground with a soft plop and stayed there.