The Sekhmet Bed by L. M. Ironside

Ahmose. Sometimes I forget how young you are, you sweet child.”
     
    The plucking-lady tittered, hid a smile behind her free hand.
     
    “ What happens?” Ahmose insisted.
     
    “ That is when our husband will take us.”
     
    “ Take us?”
     
    Mutnofret laughed again, then drifted over to the bench. She pinched Ahmose’s cheek just as if she were a helpless baby. “He will take our maidenhood. I assume you’re still a maiden, yes?”
     
    “ Oh, that. I know all about that. It’s just that I’ve never heard it called taking before.”
     
    Mutnofret rolled her eyes. Drily she said, “So you’re not that young after all. I was afraid I’d have to explain it all to you. I just hope he doesn’t fancy taking us both at the same time.”
     
    “ But how can he? He only has one to use.”
     
    Nofret and the plucking-lady laughed aloud, as if Ahmose had made a wonderful joke.
     
    “ I wonder which of us he’ll want first,” Mutnofret said, a dreamy look on her face. “I can almost forget the shame of being a second wife when I can look forward to that man in my bed.”
     
    Ahmose wrinkled her nose. The prickles of the plucking twinged at her nerves. Maybe Nofret wasn’t putting the disappointment behind her as well as she’d hoped. To keep Nofret’s mood light, she asked, “What’s it like?”
     
    Mutnofret’s eyes glittered. “I’m sure I don’t know.”
     
    The plucking-lady stopped her work and turned away, snorting back a laugh. Ahmose stared at her sister in combined horror and admiration.
     
    “ You’ve done it already? With whom?”
     
    “ Of course not, Ahmoset! What a wicked idea. That’s for common women. I was raised to be the queen. What if I’d gotten a child in my belly and it wasn’t the son of a Pharaoh? Our friends in the harem would all go hoarse for weeks from the gossiping they’d do. I could never do that to them.”
     
    Ahmose was sure she couldn’t trust Mutnofret’s denial, but she doubted she’d get any more information from her sister. “Still, I wish I knew what to expect.”
     
    “ Well, from what I’ve heard , it hurts terribly the first time. And you bleed like a cut calf. But after the first time, it gets more bearable. Sometimes.”
     
    “ Then why does anybody do it?”
     
    “ Oh, to make children, I suppose. A wife’s duty is to give her husband heirs, after all.”
     
    “ Yes, but…but I’ve heard some of the women talk as if they like it.”
     
    “ Oh, I’m sure every woman pretends that she likes it to her friends. It’s a woman’s duty. But who could really like all that hurting and bleeding?”
     
    “ You’re finished, Great Lady,” the plucking-woman said, packing away her tweezers and jars.
     
    Ahmose sat up, feeling weak and dizzy. “Oh, Nofret. How will I get through this?”
     
    Mutnofret sat on the bench beside her, pulling her close in a quick, tight hug. “Don’t worry, Ahmoset. I’ll be here for you. Always sisters, remember? For now, it’s best to forget about it. It’s days away, and we have so much to do before the wedding feast. Stand up; let’s have a look at you.”
     
    Ahmose stood unsteadily. The place between her legs smarted from the plucking. She felt especially vulnerable. She wanted to cover up her trembling body, but instead she put her hands on her hips, hoping the gesture made her look more confident, more womanly.
     
    “ Positively beautiful for one so young,” Mutnofret said, although at sixteen she was barely older than Ahmose. “How proud I am of my little sister, soon to be the queen. Now let’s get you dressed.”
     
    As Mutnofret helped her back into her gown, cooing and fussing, Ahmose had never felt less like a queen. She wanted to cry. Instead, she made herself smile.
     

 
     
     
    six
     
    With three days left before the wedding, Ahmose began to grow nostalgic for the House of Women. Soon she would move to the queen’s apartments in Waset’s great palace. It was a