Crescent Moon Read Free

Tawaret to accompany her to her chamber. The small house
inside the walls had only two rooms—one for her to greet her guests, the other
where she slept and bathed. A copper tub sat in her bedroom, already
half-filled with clean water since she bathed four times daily to purify. This
time, she quickly stripped and stepped into the water.
    Tawaret’s eyes rounded. “Mistress, I will send to the kitchen for hot
water to warm your bath.”
    “There’s not time,” Khepri said, drawing a deep breath as she submerged
her body in cool water. “My husband sent me warning. Guests approach. I must
greet them in better than my oldest linen gown.”
    Tawaret nodded. “Do you want the lavender kalasiris ?”
    “No, a sheath in its natural flax coloring will do. I don’t want anyone
thinking me vain.”
    One of her dark brows rose, a sparkle in her eyes. “But you are a God’s
Wife. Shouldn’t you be dressed in leopard skin?”
    Khepri didn’t scold the girl for her impertinence. The quality was one
she adored. Only with loyal Tawaret could she abandon decorum and be herself.
“I am a woman of humble birth, chosen for my purity of heart and body. While I
will rim my eyes with kohl to ward away an evil eye, I will not dress myself in
finery other than the best linen our farm produces.” Khepri wrinkled her nose.
“Besides, animal skin is not permitted in the temple. You know that.”
    Tawaret chose a plain kalasiris that boasted
one shoulder strap and would fall to her ankles.
    The
linen was fine and thin, nearly transparent, but Khepri wouldn’t let herself
think of that now. If the linen was the best her temple had to offer, she
wouldn’t shame the workers for the sake of modesty.
    “I could rouge the tips of your breasts,” Tawaret said, one corner of her
mouth quirking. “They would show very nicely through the fabric.”
    Khepri’s eyes widened. “Do women do that?”
    “For such a wise woman, you aren’t very worldly.” Tawaret shook her head.
    Tawaret was a temple worker and so not constrained to keep her body pure.
Khepri was sure Amun had sent the imp as a test of her resolution. “I am a
priestess, the antithesis to worldly. If I am beautiful, that blessing exists
only because my beauty will please Amun.”
    “Does that mean you want the rouge?” she asked slyly.
    Khepri laughed. “I could have you whipped for impertinence.”
    Although a smile curved her mouth, Tawaret instantly dropped her head to
show obeisance. “I’ll bring oil to scent your skin, mistress.”
    Khepri sighed, and then rose from the water and dried herself with a
thick linen towel from the stack beside the copper tub. When she finished, she
dropped it and stood still while Tawaret anointed every inch of her skin with
fragrant oil. Khepri’s eyes glided closed as firm hands molded the muscles of
her back and shoulders. A momentary pleasure she savored, because the massage
was the only intimate touch she’d ever known.
    “Your hair is getting long. I could shave your head …”
    At the suggestion, Khepri sucked in a breath. She knew her hair wasn’t
fashionable, and that she risked attracting nits, but she’d never shaved her
head when she lived on the farm. She didn’t like the way a bald scalp felt. So
long as she could hide her lapse beneath a wig, she would. Already, she submitted
to a sharp bronze knife for removal of hair over the rest of her body. “There
isn’t time,” she murmured.
    From Tawaret, she accepted a mirror of polished bronze and a small reed brush.
Khepri wet the brush with her tongue, pressed it against the cake of kohl
powder her servant held, and painted black circles around her eyes. Then she
strode to the wall and lifted her best gown from a peg. The linen was smooth
and cool, breathed better than any of the other garments she owned. If she wet
the fabric like the loose women in Thebes did, she’d never perspire.
    Tawaret took the gown from her hands and bunched it carefully to hold out
for