Distantly Falling Stars (GRAND WINNER * ONC 2019)

2. A Clerical Error

One of the things Seti greatly admired about his wife was that she rarely pandered to him, portraying him neither better, nor worse, than he actually was. He could always rely on her to reflect back to him an image of himself clearer than the one that floated on the still surface of the water in his morning washing bowl.

"No," she said, after a few minutes. "I can't think of any reason why they would've chosen you, especially not for something like that."

"That makes two of us."

"Are you sure they did?" she said, a finger tapping her lips in thought. "Choose you?" 

All the way back home, first across the water on the crowded ferry and then through the streets to his quarter of the city, Seti hadn't been able to shake the feeling that his presence at the Temple of the Sky had been a colossal case of mistaken identity.

Seti, son of Amunhotep in Nubian Affairs or Seti, son of Zocher in Borderland Affairs would have been a much more likely recipient of the invitation than himself, Seti, son of Ramu, in Information Coordination. 

"It's possible a scribe somewhere wasn't careful and there was a mix up. Although, they did seem to be expecting me at the temple."

"They were expecting someone with an invitation scarab, you mean? Or you specifically?"

Seti sighed. That had been his thought exactly. 

He turned on his side and looked at Seshat lying next to him on the mattress of the low, woven-reed bed.

Her short brown hair was shiny with sweat and her tanned skin glowed in the reflected light that streamed through the high-placed slit windows of their bedroom. The day was already hot and their lovemaking had made it seem even hotter. Seti dropped a hand onto his bare hip after running it over his own sweaty face. He felt sticky, but far calmer than he had been. 

A clerical error. That was a good explanation. In fact, it was the only explanation that made complete sense. 

A grin turned up the corners of Seshat's mouth as she nudged him playfully. "But is this how a morning at one of the temples affects you? I should send you there more often, if that's the case."

"Could be. I don't know," he said, smiling back at her affectionately and then leaning over for a kiss.

He still hesitated to tell her about the rest of what had happened in the dark temple chamber. In the light of a bright, early afternoon, here in his own home, it seemed . . . a little silly. And yet, if he'd been a betting man, he'd have bet everything he owned that he'd actually seen exactly what he'd seen. He hadn't been dreaming and he was fairly certain no herbs or minerals had been burning in the braziers to make him see imaginary pictures. No, he'd seen what he'd seen. The question was, what had he seen? 

"There's more," he said, but then didn't continue.   

Seshat laughed a low, hearty laugh and propped herself up on her left arm to look at her husband. In the fourteen years of their marriage she'd got to know his quirks and moods so well she could almost predict what he would do and say when. That had come in handy many times.

"What is it you don't want to tell me?" She arched an eyebrow conspiratorially. "Do you have the sneaking suspicion that someone is up to no good again? That things on the surface are twisted mirror reflections of an intricate spider-web underneath? Is the Lord of Chaos plotting something and only you see the signs?"

"You already think I'm making it up and I haven't said anything yet."

"I never think you're making it up!" Seshat exclaimed. "I only think you see connections where there aren't any and come to incorrect, sometimes amusingly incorrect, conclusions because of it, that's all. Not everything is a product of secretive planning. Sometimes people just do things and coincidences happen."