Cry of Cassandra

5 | Cassandra

EDITED

Now I remember why I never go outside anymore I thought to myself ruefully as I made my way back to my room to bathe and change.  I knew that if I didn't, my mother would punish me and I would go without food for the rest of the day. 

I wouldn't mind bathing by myself, but to have slaves do it for me makes me uncomfortable; I couldn't understand how we could own other human beings.  While I was kind to my slaves, many were not.  Even with my kindness, I could never give them their deepest desire, freedom.  I just didn't have the authority.

Then there is all of the unnecessary waste.

I know that mother meant well, but I was not like her or my sisters; I just didn't care about my appearance, about the excesses.  I liked  just curling up under a tree with a new scroll, not my hair.  If my appearance was meant to be different, it would. 

When I finally managed to drag myself to my room the slaves to flew into action.  I knew they worried they would be punished if I didn't pass inspection, but I would never let that happen.

Motioning towards the massive, golden, owl-shaped tub, they began to gently unbraid my hair. 

Once done, they brought out my favorite rose scented oil and one Nubian girl started gently massaged it into my body, while an older Macedonian girl buffed my nails and massaged more oil in.  A third young woman started vigorously brushing rose oil through my hair.  This girl, Nefernefertoth, was my favorite. 

Her hair was like a starless night's sky turned to silk silk.  Her skin reminded me of northern amber that we bought at the market, the ones from the frozen wastelands my sisters enjoyed draping themselves with.  

When they were done, they took out an ivory scraper to get rid of the excess rose oil, and finished by rinsing me with rose water, followed by spraying me behind the ears, at the wrists and elbows with a dab of rose perfume.

The head servant muttered to herself in her native Egyptian worriedly, pointing to the low, silk covered gold stool.  She quickly, yet gently started to brush and style my hair by making tiny, intricate braids, then pinned them into a high bun, as the other ladies got the clothing and other items out.

They chattered quietly to one another as they did so, about the books I had given them to read for the day, palace gossip or new beauty techniques.

When they were done, they dressed me in a semi-sheer violet stola, with silver fasteners "to match my eyes."  They put tiny silver owls  with amber eyes in my ears, the sign of my patron goddess, Athena.  Finished, they stepped back, quietly admired their work, now gossiping about an argument between to of my sisters over a new piece of silk. 

While I knew that the slaves preferred to work for me because I was not demanding like the other Trojan women, I knew they also thought me strange for it.  I quietly thanked them and slipped down to the great hall.  

I made my way down several marble staircases, then down a hall where the walls where completely covered in a mosaic of the Gods and Goddesses made of precious and semi-precious stones.  I turned left, finally making it to the Great Hall where everyone was eating.  I sat at the end of the table, trying not to call attention to myself.  No such luck for me today.

"Ah, you came, Cassandra, I thought you would be in your room bent over papyrus again covered in ink stains," my mother gently chided with a small smile.  My sisters giggled, as did most of the other high-born women honored with seating near us.  Very few stuck up for me other than my best friend Andromache and a few of my brothers. Andromache was one of the few people I trusted, and therefore treasured.

Glaring balefully around the room, she hissed, "How can you stand them," Andromache's eyes narrowed in utter loathing, fairly spitting in her rage on my behalf.  Touched, I hugged my friend.  She turned to me with troubled eyes.  "I mean it.  Why do you put of with them?  you are far more lovely and intelligent then the lot of them," she whispered fiercely.

Eyes welling with tears, I blinked rapidly to keep them at bay.  "They are family, as you will be if Hector has his way," I say quietly, lips trembling in a poor attempt at a smile.

Blushing, she looks surprised that I would know such a thing.  Looking at Hector fearfully, she says "You know that we wanted to be priestesses for the great goddess Athena.  Please, Cassia," tears now balance precariously on her golden lashes.

Startled, I whisper, "Didn't your parents forbid it as you are their only child?"

"So now I must abide their every wish, as you do?"  Seeing my hurt look, she tries to take her words back, but knows words are a poison that can never be fully sucked out, unlike snake venom.  One of my sisters nearby, Polyxena, seems to have caught on that we are fighting.

"Are the two homely priestesses actually fighting," she shrieks gleefully, gleefully clapping her hands like a fool.

Looking around at the unforgiving room now roaring with laughter I flee as does my friend, pursued by catcalls and quiet murmurs. 

We quickly make our way down yet more marble stairs to the palace kitchens.  Once we arrive at the kitchens, I hesitantly knock on the ancient cedar door only for it to be opened by a young man I don't recognize.  

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