The Feather on My Scale: Ch 10
A book landing on the table in front of him startled Wash out of his brooding daydream. “You’re staring off into the Pesedjet’s realm.” Seth pulled his hair around and settled onto the floor chair across from the new High Husband.
Wash cleared his throat, “I-I um…good day to you, Big Brother Seth.”
Seth glowered at him. “Yeah, let’s not go with that formality.”
Wash baulked, fumbling for the book. “But it’s polite?”
“It sounds awkward when I fully intend on persuing you.” Seth cracked open his own book.
“Per-?”
Seth stared at him. “I didn’t stutter.”
“You say that. Henu says it. Ptolemy does to, but Henu won’t even-“ Wash clasped a hand to his mouth, his cheeks flushing hot.
“Is he being lude again? He told me he would work on that.”
“No, I mean, well, kind of, but no.” Wash waved away Seth’s question. The man in black robes stared at him, waiting on the High Husand to elaborate.
“I, you’re a consort. Did he, I mean, is it common…” Wash fumbled with the book before sliding it across the table. “I don’t know if this is something we’re supposed to discuss.”
Seth rose from the table in anger. ‘He didn’t force himself upon you, did he?”
“No, nothing of the sort. If anything, he’s treating me like thin porcelain, and I just…” Wash let the statement hang in frustration.
Seth settled into his seat. “You’re going to need to be more clear.”
“He, we, that is, we played Go on our wedding night and he said something this morning, but he hasn’t, well.” Wash cast a pleading glance at Seth. The consort raised an eyebrow. “Hasn’t, um, done anything with me. Did I put him off? What happened? He seemed all kinds of keen when he first saw me at Last Rights, but now?”
“Oh!” Seth’s voice cracked, his eyes going round at the confession.
“Oh? Oh, bad? Oh, he’s doing something because I did something? I need help here. I can be overly blunt sometimes and put my foot in my mouth. What did I break and how do I fix it?” Wash begged.
“No, no, Wash. No. You didn’t do anything wrong. This is just what Henu does.”
“He does?” Confusion coated his voice.
“At least he did with Nebra and me. We came to the Pharoah a few years after Ptolemy, but those two were friends since their adolescence, so I think they’re different. No. Henu saved Nebra and me from Last Rights like he did you. When he did, he made us consorts, but absolutely refused to touch us for months. I was almost two years.” Seth stacked his books and slid them to the side.
“Two years? I was prepared-“
“He likes deep friendships before just having sex with someone. It’s just how he works. He wants the feelings to be mutually shared. Doesn’t much like the idea of coercing and doesn’t want to be blamed for something like that.”
“But his kiss!” Wash protested.
“He likes deep bonds, doesn’t mean he isn’t prone to get into people’s bubbles if he’s aesthetically attracted to them.” Seth rolled his shoulders in amusement.
“He won’t consummate my marriage bed because of friendship, but he’ll kiss me like he will because he thinks I look neat?” Wash asked, taken aback.
“Not neat. He’s fascinated with your eyes and has written at least three haiku that he has admitted to about them.” Seth let on.
“That’s…”
“Embarrassing?” Seth offered.
“I don’t know if it’s embarrassing or endearing when I’m kind of on a let down here.” Wash leaned back in his chair to stare at the post and beam ceiling.
“Have you really never done it with anyone?” Seth twisted a lock of his black hair.
Wash frowned at the question. “No.” He sat up straight to study Seth.
“Are you into men the way Henu is into Ptolemy?”
The High Husband’s cheeks pinked at the question. “Yes? Maybe? I’m not so much the deep ties type of person, but I find people attractive in general. Then again, as a wab, I was celibate. Am celibate at the moment…”
“Not so much celibate as waiting on your partner. It is relieving to know you aren’t against the relationship. I don’t think Henu would ever forgive himself if you weren’t into that kind of relationship and he pushed you into one. Poor guy is just too wrapped up in feeling like he must put kid gloves on with everyone.”
“But he’s the Pharoah. He commands armies. He is blessed by the gods. He can marry whoever he wants, have whoever he wants, do whatever he wants.”
“And what he told me once, is that he never wants to abuse that power.”
“I’m – the rules don’t make any sense.” Wash pushed at his face with the heels of his hands.
“What rules?”
“The ones for interacting with royalty, nobility, the temple. Everything I’ve been taught is to give the Pharoah anything and everything he wants. He his Horus descended among us. To treat him as anything less is to spit on the son of Osiris, a child of Ra.”
“You are giving him what he wants. Time. He wants time with you. Time to develop legitimate feelings, separate from the rules. Separate from all the status quos. You may see him as a god among men, he sees himself as little more than a man surrounded by ceremony. A figurehead to be manipulated.”
Wash muttered under his breath. “And yet I’m still horny.”
Seth snickered. Wash covered his eyes, realizing the man had heard him. “I tell you what. I don’t have any time scheduled to speak with Henu, so I can’t step in. However, I do know that nobility is supposed to be gathering in the temple for blessings from you and Henu this evening. You aren’t wasted on wedding wine, quite within your senses. Teasing him does wonders. It took me too long to figure out and part of why we didn’t do anything for a while. If you’re insistent on pulling off his kid gloves, you’re going to have to take the lead. I swear that man is the epitome of a sub, if not for the random possessive streak that likes to pop out.”
“Sub?” Wash raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll explain later. For now,” Seth rose and offered Wash a hand up. “Think slutty thoughts, you chaste angel.”
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