The Curse in Her Blood

Chapter 19

Before

The sun was high in the sky and she was already tired. The sun always wore her down but she had washing to finish. Washing was her least favourite chore even if it meant sitting by the Nile with her friends and listening to the gossip.

Washing cracked the sensitive skin of her hands, and crackled, callous fingers were a sign of a lower station and she was meant for more than that.

She spent most of the washing time daydreaming of what she should have. The riches, the gold, the servants. She was too pretty to be a common peasant. She deserved finery. She deserved royalty.

She was brought out of her daydreams by the clamour of excitement which was followed by low trumpets heralding the arrival of someone important.

Abandoning her washing she was up and following the crowd all rushing towards the source of this commotion. She pushed herself to the front of the crowd so she could see for herself what all the fuss was about.

And she was greatly rewarded.

The gods. It was a procession of gods.

There was a great golden chariot leading the way. The rest were riding donkeys and pulling wagons. They were heading for the Royal Capital.

A god could easily just appear in the palace or temple of their choosing but they often chose to travel great lengths. This was more for them as it gave the people they were imposing upon time to prepare for their arrival to their satisfaction.

Though she had heard it was very hard to please a God.

She had long since dreams of this moment, when a man, rich and powerful would take her away from this life of servitude and suffering. Landing a God was a dream even she thought was... over reaching.

But this was her chance. This was her opportunity for a better life. A life that she deserved.

She couldn't get a god's attention from the sidelines though, no matter how pretty she was. She would have to do something drastic.

So, she made a big show of tripping, maybe even feigning being pushed so she landed right in the way of the chariot before it passed before her.

This was a dangerous move. God or not, they could easily choose to just run her over. She was lucky though and this God chose to stop for her.

From the ground she feigned injury so she wouldn't have to get up right away. This made the God come down from his golden chariot, and come to her.

"My lord, have mercy," she said as she got to her knees. Her nose to the dirt road. If she was lucky this would be the last time she would have to do this.

But then she made the mistake of looking up and all her words died on her lips.

This wasn't a golden god, this was a dark god. And there was only one of those.

The man in front of her was dark as sin. His skin was tanned like hers, as if he spent too much time in the sun instead of safely in the palace. His eyes were a liquid amber burning into her and his face was ruggedly handsome. And that darkness he was famous for was etched into all of his features as he stared down at her.

He was in all black, with accents of real gold and blood red jewels embedded in his tattoos and clothes. But it was the crown, the crown with the twisting garish horns that were as demonic as the man who wore them, that told her exactly who this was.

Set God of Chaos. Ruler of Duat, the land of the dead.

His smile is something vulgar. A half smirk that tells her he's amused with her actions but also betrays the sinful thoughts frolicking in his mind.

"Well, you have my attention now, mortal. Tell me what it is you want."

What did she want? Untold richest. All the most beautiful clothes in the world. Jewels. Crowns. Servants. A palace. A title.

She couldn't say that thought.

Instead she put her nose back in the dirt and said: "Just your blessing, my lord."

"You can get up," he said and she did he said, being sure to keep her eyes lowered though. "You're aware that blessings... they come at a price."

At this she did raise her eyes being sure to flash him her most seductive of smiles paired with a flirtatious blinking of her eyes. Basically, everything she had at her disposal that she could use instead of simply saying she would do anything, literally anything for his blessing.

His smile became something more pointy, more animalistic and shiver of apprehension danced up her spine.

"And what is your name little mortal?" the god of chaos asked her.

"My name is Astarte," she said with a low bow, feeling his predatory smile dance along her back and neck.

She smiled to herself, because she knew, even if this wasn't the god she dreamed of, she'd do anything she had to, to ensure that she got what she wanted. Everything she deserved.