Yesterday I posted the first extract from a little something I've been working on and here's the second- enjoy!
“There you are Ibi!”, drawled a smug voice from behind me. I whirled around, breaking eye contact, to find the attractive but arrogant man that had been assigned to be my date for this evening. So over-confident he was, that any chance of beauty lurked deep within.
I sighed and said in a some-what wearisome voice, “Don’t call me that Ahmose”. His eyes flicked over my outfit of choice tonight, a floor length sheath of white silk that was cut in a plunging “V” neck.
“Ugh”, I thought, “this was going to be worse than I imagined”. I had known Ahmose all my life and it was most unfortunate to say that he has always been the self-centred, egotistical soul that lazed sloppily against the doorway to my bedroom. And it is also unfortunate to say that he has been trying to make a move on me for as long as I can remember.
“So sorry my Princess Iboni!”, he demurred, “how dreadfully rude of me, I do believe I shall go and haul out my organs for the gods to enjoy!” he smirked sarcastically and let out a self-satisfied chuckle. He plucked a grape from the bowl on my dresser and popped it in his mouth.
“You know, us two being up in your bedroom like this, people will begin to talk if we don’t go back down to the party, unless, that’s what you want…” He began to move closer in his sloping swagger.
“One more step mongrel and hauling your organs out will be the least of your worries” I threatened menacingly. Looking startled, he retreated back out of the room and disappeared back to the party. I let out a great “HA!” and turned around again. I sighed as an empty threat wasn’t good enough to keep him away forever, however much I wished it would.
It was all so infuriating. Father hosted these lavish parties at least twice a month and he knows I’m not naïve enough not to realize what he was doing. He continually fills the guest list with single and very wealthy bachelors in a vain attempt to find me a husband. I mean, it’s ludicrous! I’m only eighteen! I know that many of my friends in less important positions have found potential husbands already, but that is not my only argument. In the vast lands of Egypt I have not met a single man that even acquires my attention. Well, there is one… My gaze shifted wistfully towards the view over the balcony again and began the search for him with my eyes. “No!” I thought suddenly and wrenched my eyes away, “This is not right. I am Princess Iboni, next in line to the throne of Eygpt and what is he? A servant boy. Pull yourself together!” I padded over to the mirror on my dresser and sat down to fix my makeup. I stared long and hard at my profile. A smatter of freckles were sprinkled across my cheeks. My straight, slightly pointed nose marked the middle of my face but my most striking feature were my large startlingly green eyes, flecked with gold. I sighed. “Nothing worth looking at really”, I muttered. I hauled myself up from the comforting seclusion of my room and down into the manic fray below.