Some of our bangles and other adornments clinked to the floor. We had put our belts with their covering fabrics back on for the walk to our room, and without undergarments, they need only be pushed out of the way. Besides, I liked Nakht in his shimmering red.
We were indeed dusk and dawn, both beautiful in our own rights, but where we collided came the blinding glory of the day, and the bejeweled stillness of the night.
I preferred the night sky, like a glimpse into the hereafter of all the other dancers before us, glittering on forever, innumerable and majestic for both mortals and the gods to marvel at. I could stare at the stars and never grow bored, never need any other view, not even Amun-Ra’s rays again…
Save the echo of it in my lover’s eyes.
Our kiss pushed my hand from Nakht’s face, so I moved it to seek his hand, lacing our fingers once I found it. Nakht's left hand bore a ring of braided light and dark leather scraps, one of two he had made, the other for me. They were simple, worth nothing to anyone else, but to us they were more precious than the gold bands we wore as Pharaoh’s head dancers.
Our status was not the only reason we had a private room. All of the dancer slaves were treated well, prized property to be kept beautiful and better shown off to others to prove Pharaoh’s wealth. But none of that mattered when Nakht and I were alone.
We had been presented as a pair for our first sensual dance years ago, already in love by then and not wanting to be separated. We knew we had to play our parts perfectly for that to remain true. We had to dance flawlessly, every time, so our watchers preferred keeping us together, even if they only took one of us while the other bore witness. Even as Pharaoh's current favorites, we didn’t dare fail to satisfy him or others. We were still slaves and had to always, always please our masters first.
If we could continue to do that until our beauty faded, we would be rewarded as trainers for the next generation, allowed to live out our days together in peace. That was all we wanted. All we were allowed to want, but it was something. It was ours. All we had to do was survive until that future came.
“Mer!” Nakht’s lips tore from mine. He was close, and as I had sworn, he was going to come first.
I curved my spine in such a way as to lick the length of him without dislodging from inside him and flicked my tongue up over his weeping slit.
“Meryt!” Nakht came, and I caught as much of his nectar on my tongue as I could.
I rutted faster, relishing in his continued moans.
“H-ow… do you do that?” Nakht croaked.
One more thrust, two, thr—
I released, and as I sank down against my beloved, I whispered, “Talent.”
He laughed.
If I was being honest, it was these moments directly after being together, with heartbeats and breaths slowing, feeling tingly and content to simply hold one another while still connected, that I loved most.
“You must be blessed by Osiris to contort yourself like that.”
Now I had to laugh and took Nakht’s teasing as my cue to disentangle us.
We had some spare linen I used to wipe us down, but we were hardly clean. We’d slip off to the baths soon enough before succumbing to sleep. The bathing chamber was private for us dancers too, since we were expected to always be pristine when called upon.
“Perhaps Iamblessed by Osiris.” I tucked myself beside Nakht on our small bed. “He does have the best love story.”
“I could do without the dismembering part.”
I laughed again. What I liked about that story wasn’t Osiris being slain by his brother Seth, but that his wife, his consort, his beloved Isis could not bear a world in which he did not exist and brought him back from the dead.
Nakht kissed the side of my face. “Whether you are blessed or not, just like our great goddess Isis, I will love you, Meryt, even beyond death.”
I faced Nakht and kissed him on the lips. Once. Twice. Then a third time more deeply before saying, “Beyond death and anything and everything that might separate us, I—”
An unexpected weight by our feet startled me into silence.
“Pasht!” Nakht laughed at the arrival of one of the palace’s resident cats, this one being particularly fond of the dancers’ quarters, especially when we rehearsed, and especially me and Nakht. We had found her when she was a kitten, trapped beneath a chest, and she had endeared herself to us ever since. She was our near-constant shadow, whether day or night, often ending up in places we might be other than the dancers’ quarters, but always appearing at some point once we retired to our room, as if it was hers as much as ours, and her claim on it—and us—couldn't be questioned.
She was the most beautiful of Pharaoh's cats, in my opinion. A perfect pure white, flecked with black markings, with black lining her eyes as though she had used the same kohl as we did. Her eyes themselves were so green, they may as well have been made from jasper.
“Mrrow?” Pasht chirped, and when I reached for her, she bucked into my hand.
Nakht’s continued chuckling littered his words. “While we appreciate you blessing our union, oh sacred emissary, now is not the best—”
