Page 12 of Glass Wings
Steam tumbledout towards the open air while the servants poured hot water out of heavy clay basins. The large, personal bathing tub under the pillars of the palace balcony suite was one for romantics, as the stars shone through the ceiling opening above.
The servants—young boys and girls—were covered in gold bracelets and jewels themselves and were often playful with each other, even in the presence of the royalty that they served. There was a happiness here that Djoser had never seen with any of Cleopatra’s predecessors.
The servants spoke about books and new languages as they walked out of the room, only to hastily return with refilled hot water in their clay basins. There was rarely death and decay in the streets that served the kingdom below them. It had only taken a woman to bring such joy both to court and to Alexandria.
Of course, the female ruler shared this title with her despicablebrothers, but Djoser had a plan to remedy that. He had been behind the growth of this city and this great country since it was little more than a stream. That stream patiently waited for the Kinnari to come along and help it become the great Nile it was now and to Djoser, it was home.
Djoser sat on a decorated bench holding a chalice filled with a deep red wine. He found that his cup was rarely empty, and though he had been hiding in the background throughout human history, his treatment was that of a deity. Djoser had seen a few hieroglyphics in places of religious importance depicting a man with wings in his honor. He would always be a part of the history here, never erased, never ignored, never hated.
Soft hands with the overwhelming sweet yet savory smell of spices came from behind, coaxing and seducing Djoser by massaging the yearning spot underneath his square jawline. Those same hands then traveled down his neck and onto his shoulders, pulsing rhythmically. They stopped for a moment, coming to his shoulder blades and tracing the raised triangular marks on his dark olive skin, strong from ripping open and healing over and over again.
“If you let yourself out tonight,” Cleopatra whispered into Djoser’s ear, “then I have some new ideas we can . . . play . . . with.”
“Fucking Duat,” Djoser let his eyelids flutter. He gritted his teeth while her hands now moved down his front side, giving the servants an excuse to quickly disappear.
Cleopatra giggled, “Oh look, it’s time for my bath.” The mortal woman stepped out from behind Djoser and, in an attempt to put on a show, began undressing right at the edge of the luxurious tub.
Her robes, satin gold with long wide sleeves adorned with a black, blue, and red beaded collar, fell to her waist as she unfastened the fine garment, letting her breasts perk from the immediate exposure of air. Goosebumps decorated her skin while she finished disrobing, leaving the clump of fabric on the floor as she lifted her feet on pointed toes and stepped out of it.
This woman, soon to be the Queen of Kings if Djoser had it his way, stood powerfully before him. Her chin-length black hair shonewith oil in the torch lights illuminating the room. Djoser saw the obsession that mortal men had with her beauty and on this night, she was his if he had wanted.
There was nothing more that he yearned for than the pleasure of releasing his wings while this woman stroked and caressed them in the hot water of this bath. Yet, that was not what he was there for.
Djoser was there to orchestrate a relationship, a marriage proposal between Egypt and Rome. As the political advisor of all Pharaohs since the pretense of his death as the first Pharaoh Menes, he knew he had something with this. It would benefit their people, and if there was anything Cleopatra cared about, it was her subjects. If he gave the recommendation, she would listen. She would serve.
Djoser stood up, leisurely stepping towards the naked woman who now had her back to him as she stepped into the water. The large, fourteen-foot-high double doors leading into the chamber groaned against each other as they opened just wide enough for a small, elderly man to shuffle in, his head bowing and eyes focused on the floor.
“My apologies for the interruption, but I have an urgent scroll for the gentleman,” he said, pushing the gleaming tray in his hands forward towards Djoser. Cleopatra did nothing to cover herself or reveal any shame of her body, but continued on her way to enjoy the sultry water that awaited her while Djoser nodded towards the servant, grabbing the sealed scroll from his tray.
“You are dismissed,” Djoser said as the old man shuffled out of the room, closing the doors behind him. The scroll was sealed with a wax emblem that Djoser hadn’t seen in hundreds of, possibly even a thousand, years. It was a smooth, velvety red, imprinted with the sun and the moon.
“What is it?” Cleopatra asked while enjoying the deliciousness of the scented olive oil she began rubbing into her skin.
“We are about to find out,” Djoser said as he unsealed the scroll. He read it, a single sentence in elegant black ink written out in Allienna’s handwriting, before crumpling up the paper in his fist.
Instant irritation crept behind Djoser's eyes, though he did his best to not let it show.
This better be important.
Any message from Allienna would have been ordered by Djoser’s opposite, Arryn. Though they hadn't seen each other since childhood, Djoser remembered Arryn being completely insufferable to be around. They might have become enemies had Djoser not chosen to leave.
“It seems that I am urgently needed back at my childhood home.”
He would have to leave his political scheming for another day.
“Pray tell, where does a god grow up?” Cleopatra asked, disappointment evident in her voice.
Djoser smiled, “In another world, blanketed by white.”
He walked over to the lounging woman to say his goodbyes.
“I will be back in a few short days, a week at worst. You and I have work to do.”
Cleopatra gave him a nodding, serious look of understanding. The promise of looming sex and seduction was no longer in the air.
Djoser informally turned his back on the woman, exiting not through the doors but the balcony. A smile tugged on his lips as he looked up to the moon, which reminded him that all the originals shared a curse in their gifts.
The whispers of ripping flesh and a tinge of copper laced the air. Cleopatra laid her head on the edge of the tub and watched the marvel before her. The white bone that instantly browned in the air protruded from his shoulder blades in swift, graceful moments until the full length of a fifteen-foot wingspan presented itself before her.
