The Feather on My Scale: Ch 9
“What are the steps in The Drawing of the Bolt, High Husband of the God King?” Adom’s voice echoed through the corridor as I was led to my morning routine. It had never occurred to me, until that moment, how much earlier the rest of the Temple staff were awake then me. Having left Wash to sleep off the last of his wedding wine, I had taken for grant it that he would have been in his house in the morning.
“Dusting of the rafters, performed by the low wab. Sweeping of the floors by the secondary wab. Opening of the doors and cleaning of the steps to the practitioners by the high wab. A cleaning of the steps with holy water and lotus by the low priests. Preparation of sacrament by the middle priests. The Spirits of the Night bring forth the Sun. The selected wab or second hands to the high priest and high lecturn –
“Wait, does the high lecturn maintain the role of cleansing in The Drawing of the Bolt, and I oversee it, or do you oversee as high council and I preform the cleansing as High Husband? There is no precedence in the text for one who shares a soul with the Pharoah.” Wash stopped his listing as I made my way into the golden box.
“If you are half-god, as you say, then your will is as much law as is the Pharoah.” Adom’s tone had turned snide.
Turning to one of the female wab dressed as a Spirit of the Night, I leaned in to keep my voice low. “Duck into the hall and get the High Husband for me. It appears he and the High Council need assistance in determining the order of things. Leave the High Council in the chamber.”
The Spirits of the Night were not supposed to leave my side, but seeing no one else available to do as instructed, the woman in veils dipped low before skittering down the hall and bowing into a side door. A minute later, Wash followed her back to where I stood waiting at the back door to the golden suite we used for morning rituals.
“Your Highness?” Wash bowed. His fingers trembled, clutching at the long white sleeves of a new top of strange design. It appeared that either the Temple or Nebra had been busy with commissions. The make-do outfit from the day when I declared him holder of my soul paled to the fine costuming of the new morning uniform. A high neck cinched together from Adam’s apple to collarbone with gold luck knots. The tassel of the lowest knot hung low to skim from bare chest to flat stomach and lower yet to a gold belt holding up white hakama. The high-necked collar lay fitted across shoulders and under arms, to drape away from him in floor length kimono sleeves. His pastel green wings had been carefully curried until they glistened, as was his curls shaped and quaffed and kohl now played magic around his eyes.
Pulling him in under my arm, I whispered so that the seven onlookers would get the hint to leave my words alone. “For everything that is holy, if you’re dressed like that, have Adom see to my bathing. If you must participate, keep him from pulling my hair out, but I won’t be able to remain presentable today with you like this if you have to go scrubbing me.”
“Sire!” his voice cracked.
“Sorry. A bit of blunt honesty is going to keep me from having issues and you from having to deal with me having issues.” I released him.
He stayed in close rather than putting distance between us like I thought he would. “Do you want me to find other clothing? Is this too much? Retainers showed up with them from Adom’s personal tailor. I can tell him you felt it was too immodest.”
“Only if you aren’t comfortable wearing them for yourself. I can only imagine that it probably feels better on your wings, not having pressure on them.” I offered a middle ground. I had not expected Adom to have taken the initiative to see to Wash’s wardrobe. I would need to set a conference with him in discussing what I was responsible for in seeing to Wash and what the Temple would claim as their responsibilities to His High Husband.
“You dragged me out here during my lesson with the High Lecturn to tease me after not taking me to bed last night? Pharoah, if I was none wiser, I would think you the reincarnation of Setekh.” He tugged my necklace into shape as his eyes flashed fire.
“Not-not that I mean to tease. Just trying to forewarn you that I find you attractive and would rather the entirety of all the little old grandmothers who come for morning prayers to not get an eyeful.” I begged. His fingers were cool and decisive against my robes as he straightened me more so than Seth had already done.
“You could have found me attractive last night. There are ceremonies in the books and consider it is a sign,” he coughed, “a blessing of fertility if you end up – well – up during a ceremony. I might let you suffer.” He went to then straighten his own regalia out.
“You were tipsy on wedding wine, High Husband. I will not take advantage of you such that you can blame your actions or mine on the state you are in. That is no fashion by which to leave your concept of self-worth.” I helped him loosen the knots in his collar so as to relieve the itch the embroidery was leaving him in. “I’ll tell my tailor to insert silk backing in this if you come back to my rooms after the morning ceremonies.”
“I had plans for last night.” The rims of his eyes had gone red.
“And they are still entirely usable. If you want to have time with me, at least let our first not be with you inebriated. I’d rather you be able to tell me if you don’t like me doing something, rather than let the alcohol take over and you say yes to things you aren’t comfortable with.
“For now, though, if I keep you here much longer, Adom is going to come looking for what is keeping you.” I turned him toward the door before he could brood much further on the fact I had not bed him shortly after wedding him.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He let himself out.
I sighed, debating on if I had done right by making him upset at me for the night before rather than the morning after.
Rituals proceeded in order and Adom did end up seeing to the bathing while Wash plated my hair with his gold threads. The change was a breath of fresh air and made the morning bearable.
Wash provided golden auras around the food when I blessed it. The practitioners murmured in reverent awe at the show of holy magic. I could hope tales would run rampant through the temples in the dome. If the nobility could be made nervous, this was a way to do it. More murmurs and elated gasps changed the tune of the Temple when the food reached practitioners’ lips.
“It’s warm,” Wash whispered to me with a soft smile as he watched one frail woman weep as she ate. I slipped a hand along the small of his back. His distraction with maintaining the warmth of the food left me able to help him without him running away. Smooth skin tingled at my fingertips. The care he put into thinking of warming the food to soften it for the elderly gave me great pride in him as a priest and a man I now called Royal Husband.
Chapel Orahamm (C) 2022-2023. All Rights Reserved.
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