i. the scent

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The waters were cooler than the ones in the royal ponds. The chill reached to his bones, freezing those to near death. Seti had never imagined feeling so numb and rigid, but here he was, unable to open his eyes.

Not until a surge of warmth thrummed in the middle of his forehead, setting the icy bones on fire and melting the frozen cores of his body. Seti lifted up his fingers as if attempting at playing a harp.

"Wake up."

The voice was deep but not hoarse. It echoed across the mountains of his mind, dying eventually as he slowly opened his eyes. In front of him was a middle-aged woman of brown eyes peering from beneath thick bushy brows that reminded Seti of the lush locks of his sister-in-law. This woman too looked matured and motherly. He clenched his fist as recent memories flooded his consciousness.

"Good. Can you hear me?" the woman asked.

Seti scrunched his nose, blinking to adjust to the sudden arrival of light. The woman waved her hand in front of his face. "Can you hear me?"

Seti pressed his lips. "Hmm."

"You must be feeling tired. It's a miracle that you survived."

Seti noticed a big cylindrical cap on the woman's head. It was ochre in colour and made of leather. She wore a pin on her nose and had pierced her ears with heavy gems. The long dress flailed behind her as she went to fetch a chalice of water for Seti. The prince tried to sit up, only to scream in agonising pain and flopping down on bed again. The woman came back with a frown. "I didn't ask you to get up on your own. You need help."

"Who are you?"

The woman wrapped an arm around him and with the other one held his hand. After making him sit with some support she handed him the water. He chugged it down in one go. "More. I am thirsty."

The woman smiled and brought more water. Seti drank a pool, exhaling in satisfaction when his throat didn't feel like the hot and humid desert.

"I am Istustaya, a healer. Me and my sister Papaya saved you. We had found your body on the shore of the river Tigris."

Seti tried to remember the last events. He recalled jumping into the river and hearing the shouts of the soldiers, and his own unsuccessful tries at survival. And then at one point everything went blank, black and bleak.

"You have suffered great injuries. Your feet have been severely scarred and hurt, and you won't be able to walk without help."

Seti looked at his bandaged feet. He tried to wriggle his toes. A shot of pain made him flinch. He then remembered he had ripped his toenail.

"I have applied some healing paste on the wound in your back. It will take time to seal up, but don't worry. If you take good care of yourself the recovery will speed up."

"And anything else?"

"Your body has got minor cuts by hitting the rocks. It's good that there is no serious injury to the bones. There will be a lot of weakness."

"I am a warrior. I will persevere. Warriors go through worse."

The woman smirked. "Did you jump on your own or did–"

"On my own. It's better to die than to hand yourself to your enemies."

"They probably think you are dead by now. Am I, by mistake, treating a culprit?"

It was Seti's time to snicker. "Your job is to heal. My job is to fight. Some will call you a witch. Some will call me a beast."

"Makes sense."

The sound of thudding sandals approaching the room made the two turn their head to the door. A woman with silky long hair, younger to Istustaya, came and kept a tray of food on a table beside Seti's bed. It had cold meat, bread, mashed chickpeas and a cup of wine. "I thought he might be awake by now. It's been three days, and you had predicted he will be up today."

"Three days!"

The new woman giggled. "Yes. Does it come as a shock?"

"It-it does."

"This is Papaya. She is also a healer."

Seti heaved a sigh. "I will be grateful to you two. . ." He pursed his lips, remembering the very motive behind his death. "Perhaps it's not time for me to die yet. Perhaps I need to work harder to get what I want. Perhaps. . ."

"Perhaps?"

Seti's brows wrinkled. "My belongings?"

"That bag?"

"Yes! Wait, di-did it get lost? Did the river take it away? Oh no!" Seti clutched his head, moaning in pain. "God kill me but give me back my soul!"

Istustaya whispered, "Is it very close to you?"

Seti held back his tears. He knew crying wouldn't be the best move in front of these strangers, even if they had saved his life. Did Neferneferure want him to forget her and move on? How could he do that? It was worse than death!

"It's still there, don't worry," Papaya assured. "Wait a moment."

She went outside the room. For Seti, those moments were the longest in his life. He wished if he could just hop down the bed and run after her and get his stuff on his own. After what seemed like an eternity, Papaya came back.

"She is bringing it."

A young maiden, around the age of Seti, came with the bag. She had short bouncy hair embellished with jewels, and her skin dipped in the colour of the sand itself. Her eyes were narrow and long, like the delicate stroke of a painter. Seti found it weird that her hands were gloved despite the fact that her sleeves were long. With cautious steps she went near Seti.

A very familiar scent conquered his mind. In a reflex he leaned forward, letting his senses detect the fragrance. It hit him like a bolt of lightning.

It belonged to the letters Neferneferure wrote to him.

The maiden denied matching her gaze with Seti. "Is this the bag you were looking for?"

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