Jewel of the Pharaoh, Prequel to Children of the Pharaoh

Chapter Eleven

OSIRA

When I am sitting in the garden, looking like I am in some crazy meditative state, it is the opposite. I am thinking. My brain is going a million miles an hour and I don't know what to do about it. So I sit and think away. So when Ay randomly comes and sits next to me, you can imagine the fright I got.
"Sorry." He apologized.
"Its okay. I should learn to be more aware. I probably wouldn't notice a snake until it bit me." (Irony everywhere if you read the other books...)
"No?" He asked laughing.
"As prime minister, and the kings Vizier; I should hope you keep your eyes wide open." I commented. He smiled.
"My eyes are very wide open. What about yours?" It was a rhetorical question, so I didn't answer.
"What do you do when there is something you really want, but can never have?" I inquired.
"I would get it. But that's just the way I am. Only the selfish people survive in our world, Osira. When you learn to be selfish, you learn not to care. With not caring about anyone but yourself, comes great power." He explained. I was about to slap him, and call him a selfish coward... but then I realized he was right. So I didn't reply. He patted my knee; then stood up, leaving me with something to think about.

I sat with my quill poised, and finally brought it down, scratching a reply letter to my mother, in short it said this:

I don't know if I can ever forgive you for what you did. But you taught me that only the selfish survive. Thank you for teaching me to be strong. But fuck you for abandoning me, your eldest legitimate daughter.

Princess Osira of Etrusca and Egypt.

I pressed my ring onto the hot wax, for a personal seal; as the sealing-ring bore my crest. Two king cobras about to bite a falcon. As the falcon is the symbol of August; the barbarian king who seeks to take over my kingdom. I stood, kissed the letter, (allowing my bright red lip-paint to dry on the papyrus) then handed it to a messenger, who will deliver it to a ship master, or tradesman, heading to Etrusca. I felt numb, as though my life no longer had any meaning. I stripped off my too-fashionable (and exposing) dress. And replaced in with a peasants dress. I might feel better if no one notices me, I can become one with the walls and floor. Alone. Almost a spinster. The most common age for our girls to marry is between eleven and fourteen, and I have just a summer and a half until I reach that age. A lost, lonely, abandoned and unloved by anyone that still matters to her: Princess. Who feels like no one.