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Amun lay in bed with his hands stacked beneath his head, watching his lovely wife’s profile as she performed her bedtime ritual. She sat adjacent to him on a stool before her dressing table, an assortment of jars and lotions and ladies’ things before her. Her wig was tucked it away in a box with numerous others.
Amun liked this time of day. The house was quiet, the children asleep. In the bedroom he shared with Betrest, flax wicks set in bowls of scented oil cast a soft, intimate glow. Night sounds from outside filtered past the curtains. Insects buzzed and chirruped, and the bullfrogs croaked down by the great river.
It was all very pleasant and calm, a nice contrast to what were usually otherwise hectic days.
Also, his wife was about the get naked, which was pretty much the best part of Amun’s day.
It had been five whole days since they’d been intimate. Their littlest one was cutting a new tooth and terribly cranky, which meant that no one in the house had slept much those past few days and now everyone was cranky.
Amun did not expect Betrest to oblige him tonight, even though their son was now sleeping peacefully. Her father’s long-awaited interment was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.
But a man could look, couldn’t he? And maybe hope just a little bit?
“Father’s interment is tomorrow,” she said, as if reading his mind. She rubbed a damp cloth over her face in circular motion, scrubbing off the remains of kohl and ochre.
“Yes,” he answered, careful to keep his tone neutral. Her father’s death had been fraught with conflicting emotions for her. They’d never been close. The man had been mostly concerned with his work as an advisor and ambassador for the local governor. He’d barely acknowledged his children and gone so far as to disown Nehesy. Which had upset Betrest terribly.
And Amun didn’t think much of any man that upset Betrest.
But he kept his opinion to himself, because Betrest had loved her father, no matter that he’d been cold and harsh and mostly absent from her life. And she’d felt guilt that she didn’t mourn him more than she already had.
Two moon cycles had passed since the man’s death, and tomorrow’s interment would hopefully bring some sense of closure for her.
“It’s been five days since the banquet we held for Imi,” she said as she set down the cloth and splashed water on her face, then dabbed at it with another strip of linen.
“Mmm,” Amun answered.
Betrest pulled over another small bowl with a measure of goat’s milk and patted this on her face, followed by a mixture of castor oil and some other mystery combination, which she rubbed into her face and neck.
The end result was that she would come to bed smelling of lotus blossoms and honey. Amun shifted his hips, the early stirrings of an erection lifting the sheet draped about his legs.
“Amun?” she asked, swiveling on her stool to look at him directly. No wig or jewellery adorned her body. No kohl darkened her eyes, no ochre reddened her lips and cheeks. Her tight, dark curls were shorn close thanks to the summer’s heat.
He loved her when she was made up, carrying herself with all the dignity of a formidable, perceptive priestess representing the goddess Mehyt, and a cousin to the queen herself. But he loved her most like this - this soft, sweet, vulnerable version of herself that she revealed to a select few. She was soft and sweet in other ways and places, too. Breasts and hips, in particular.
“Did you hear what I said, Amun?”
“Yes?”
“You weren’t listening.” She looked pointedly to where his cock was now tenting the sheet.
He kept his hands behind his head and gave a little shrug. “What? Can’t a man appreciate how beautiful his wife is?”
She rolled her eyes and rose gracefully from the chair, moving to untie the knot that held her dress up at the back of her neck. Amum’s cocked twitched in anticipation.
She frowned. “I said that it’s been five days since the banquet, and since Nehesy spent the night here. Something happened between him and Imi that night after the fight with Ludim. And now he’s avoiding her and she’s avoiding him.”
“Mmmm.” He answered her frown with one of his own, flattening his mouth in the expected disapproval. Her breasts were jiggling while she wiggled and worked at the knotted fabric.
“And Nehesy will be leaving within a couple of days after the interment. Amun, he’ll be gone again. For who knows how long.” Real distress tinged her voice. Amun stopped watching her chest and looked to her face. Even when she was wheedling or scheming, Betrest never wielded tears the way some women did. But now she looked close to crying.
Ah. Damn.
He sighed. “Come here, my love.” He patted the mattress and held up the bedsheet.
She draped her dress over a stool and slid into bed. He tucked her warm, naked body against his, so she could rest her head on his shoulder, and hugged her close.
“What am I going to do, Amun? I know you think I shouldn’t interfere, but what if Nehesy never settles down and finds peace? I had hoped that with father’s passing he might confront some of the ghosts that have haunted him all these years. And when he brought Imi here...I thought maybe they would reconcile, and he’d finally stay in Thinis and I’d have my brother back.”
Betrest’s fingers played over his chest, which helped to keep his erection happily hard, despite their conversation.
“Now it all seems even worse than before,” she lamented. “Nehesy has been sleeping on his ship, of all places, and Imi has gone out almost every night with a different man. What if she marries one of them?”
“Wasn’t that the plan? That she find a husband?” He kissed the top of her head and inhaled the scent of lotus blossoms and honey.
She made a noise of distress and exasperation. “Of course. I want Imi to marry well and be happy. But if she marries someone else just to fulfill her father’s imyt-pr, they might both end up miserable. You saw the way Nehesy looked at her the night of the banquet, didn’t you?” She rose up on one elbow and looked down at him with wide, sad eyes. “He’s in love with her, and I’m certain she loves him, too. When I think of how they were as children... I think she’s always been in love with him. Imi says everything is perfectly fine between her and Nehesy, but she’s a terrible liar and even though I essentially told her so, she still won’t tell me what happened the night of the banquet.”
Amun squeezed her closer and stroked a hand over her arm. “I know you want them together, but what if they already tried, and they have a good reason for not speaking?”
As he said it, though, Amun thought of how he’d unexpectedly come across Imi the day before, out in the courtyard, pouring some of her new fragrance into pretty bottles that Betrest had picked out for their joint venture. Except that Imi seemed to have forgotten that she was in the middle of an action. Instead, she was sitting with an opened bottle held loosely in her lap, tilted at a precarious angle, while she stared sadly at the gate that led to the alleyway.
It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her look that despondent in the last few days, though she made a great effort to appear enthusiastic about going out with some of the men from the banquet. Men like Mahu. Who was a decent enough fellow, but would never be a good match for someone as strong-willed as Imi.
Ah. Damn. Amun liked Imi. She was feisty and loyal and fierce. She was a woman alone in the world, and Amun felt responsible for her now that she was living in his house. He also felt bad that he’d been unable to find a way to break her father’s will. So unless Nehesy could find her brother, she had no choice but to marry or give up control of her property.
He also liked Nehesy. When they’d first met, Amun had discerned that Nehesy was troubled and in need of guidance. Amun had done his best to be a dependable male figure for his younger brother-in-law.
And it wasn’t like Nehesy to stay away from his family. He’d still stopped by a few times to play with the children over the past few days, but he’d somehow managed to avoid coming around when Imi was present. Or she disappeared when she heard he was coming.
Betrest slung her leg over Amun’s thigh, rubbing her calf along his. His shaft twitched. That poor neglected member that didn’t concern itself with other peoples’ happiness.
Betrest said, “There’s no good reason for them to not speak. Unless one of them did something stupid. And I have a feeling it wasn’t Imi. Darling...” She bit her bottom lip and looked at him with pleading eyes. Her fingers traced circles on his abdomen, just below his belly button.
Ah. Just a hand’s width lower, love, he thought. At the same time, he also recognized that he’d walked into a trap.
He closed his eyes and groaned. “No.”
“Amun, please, darling.” She pressed the warmth of her core against his hip, and a kiss on the nape of his neck. Warm breath whispering over his skin. “Nehesy respects you. He’ll listen to you. He won’t even talk to me about Imi.”
“What in the underworld am I supposed to say? And at the interment no less?” With a quick motion, he pulled her over to straddle his thighs and muttered, “We really need to stop talking about your brother now.”
She rocked against him, and he groaned.
“Please, Amun. Just talk to him tomorrow?” She held her hips up, just out of reach. “I know it’s not an ideal time, but he’ll be leaving soon.”
He cursed. Not even silently. But resignedly because he knew how to pick his battles and this one was lost. But won in other ways, at least. “Fine,” he growled, gripping her hips tight in his hands. “Now enough talk, please.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him and reaching between them at the same time to position his shaft at her entrance.
Thank the holy gods above and below.
Amun made love to his wife. Deep but slow, savouring the sensations, then speeding up until they were both perspiring, the air grew hectic, and they finally collapsed, sated. He dozed a little until she fell asleep. Then he slid his arm out from under her head, scooped up a wrap skirt, and slipped out into the night.