Hathor's Mirror

14 | YE COME HERE OFTEN?

Avril has managed to clear her divan of its detritus, although the floor is now a sea of garments, blankets, and what looks like papyrus pressed into dense rectangles with colourful, shiny coverings of bare-chested men with large swords. Avril catches my gaze on them and kicks them out of sight, her cheeks darkening to a flushed pink.

"Okay?" she says, turning back to me and Luke. "Um if your royal highness could maybe just sit here?" She points to the center of the divan where Oliver is standing and marching in place with his two front legs, his eyes half closed in contentment.

"Oliver!" she cries and snatches him away, holding him against her like a baby. I expect him to scratch her eyes out. Instead, he snuggles up to her, closes his eyes, and purrs so loud I feel a twinge of envy. We have cats in the palace, of course. They are the ambassadors of the goddess Bastet, and where they choose to reside is noted daily by the palace priests, who read their signs for coming blights, wars, or times of plenty, and the opportunity for conquest and expansion. But we treat the children of Bastet with reverence, not as though they are infants to be coddled. As a child I was thrilled if one deigned to join me on my bed. But my mother said although it is a great honour, I must not touch them, that they move between the world of men and gods and are older than time. I would barely sleep those nights, so afraid I might touch a child of Bastet with my foot. Those nights, I dreamed my dreams clinging to the edge of the bed.

But here, in the future, cats are not only smaller, rounder, fluffier, and tamer, they thoroughly beg to be touched. I long to reach out and stroke Oliver's face, but I do not because I am Neferu-re and destined to be the next pharaoh of Egypt. I cannot risk displeasing Bastet by dishonouring one of her kin. I remind myself that soon my misadventure to this unpleasant, ugly world of over-bright lights, disorder and noise will be soon erased with a long soak in my bathing pool, surrounded by the happy chirps of my garden birds and a soft, cooling breeze provided by Wesemkhet and my peacock feather fan.

I move to the sofa, wait for Luke to offer me his hand to help me descend. He stands there, dense as a granite block, doing nothing, occupied with looking into a small, illuminated tablet in his hand. I sigh, lift my skirts, turn and sit, on my own.

"And Luke, can you sit beside her on the right?" Avril continues, somehow managing to be both bossy and nervous at once. "And I'll go on the left. I think that's best."

"Ye sure ye want me in on this?" Luke asks without looking up from his magical tablet. "Might be best if it's just the two o' ye as before."

"I don't think it matters, it's one for one, right?" Avril says. "Anyway, I want to be right beside her when Nerys arrives. God knows what condition she will be in."

"Maybe I should go. I don' want tae be the cause o' any complications,"  Luke says. Though when his looks up and his eyes move to mine, I sense his desire to remain.

"No!" Avril says, her voice rising towards panic. "Please stay. Don't leave me alone with this. And stop scrolling Instagram, oh my god."

"I'm no scrollin' social media, hen," Luke smiles. "I'm catchin' up on history, tryin' tae find out more about our wee princess here." He turns the face of the tablet towards us, and I glimpse the great pyramids in it, but there are no avenues of date palms, no waterways, and no port teeming with barges and skiffs. It is dry and desolate, surrounded by sand. This must be what is left of my empire. A pang of sorrow strikes me. Everything we have built to honour the gods, its order, beauty and power – all of it gone. I blink back a sudden burn of tears. This means one day the gods will abandon us. When I return, and I am pharaoh, I will ensure this does not happen.

"Can you not?" Avril huffs, smacking his tablet down. "You can read all you want later. Right now, let's just get Princess Neferu-re home and Nerys back. Remember, our friend?"