Thread: Love of the Desert [[ShadyxHoudini]]

The young slave girl had had a very different life than the Pharaoh's son. Born to parents who did not want her and could not support her mouth to feed - especially because she was female - she was left with few options for the course of her life. She was either to be left as a sacrifice to the Gods or sold into a life of slavery. They raised her until she was four or five, a very active little girl, but one day they brought her to a man and left her - she never saw them again. She remembered crying for hours, she remembered the walk there, how she'd love the feeling of the hot sand between her bare toes. Tahirah had very few memories of her family, though occasionally a face, smell, or sound would spark a random memory in her head. It had been nearly thirteen years since that day and today for Tahirah was no different from any other day. She got up with the rising sun, watching as it glistened over the sand, warming it for the day. It was vaguely warm already that morning and the girl stretched her arms over her head, running a hand through her midnight black hair. She had longer hair, cut just below her shoulders, straight bangs and black. As a slave she wasn't much allowed to have a personal style, not to mention she didn't have much time to keep it up anyways. Her time was dedicated to serving the Pharaoh's son as well as other duties around the palace when he was praying or doing things that she couldn't be of use for. Her skin was tanned naturally, though more so from having labored out in the sun for a long time - errands that caused her to run to the market district or gardening, running water back and forth, anything that was required of her. Shaking thoughts from her head as she watched the sun rise she was snapped back to reality when and hand touched her shoulder. Luckily it was just another slave encouraging her to get dressed properly, but it had startled Tahirah. Not wasting any more time, she turned and pulled out the piece of cotton cloth she wore every day - she only had three. One was always in the wash, two were always ready to be worn. Because she was 'privileged' enough to work in the palace, she was required to look neat, clean, and polished. She pulled on the cloth, a kalasiris, around her body and had one of the other girls help her tie and pin it in place. Since growing her curves filled out the garment better than before, though when she was younger she generally wore little more than a cloth over her body anyways. She was a thin girl, her hips curved out slightly and her breasts having developed nicely in her puberty years. Tahirah had time to slick on some of her coal makeup around her eyes, a traditional style that was even required of the slaves, though in a lesser degree than any of the royals. Tahirah... Come, she heard a voice calling her and quickly she followed behind, grasping her headband in her hand on her way out. On her way out the door of their small quarters, where she lived with three other girls, she tied the piece of hardened cotton twine that had been weaved into a pattern, lightly painted with color and beaded, around her forehead, mostly to keep her hair from getting in her way while she worked. Tahirah was handed a piece of folded bread covered in jam for her breakfast, or the beginnings of it anyways. That morning Tahirah had been assigned to bring the Pharaoh's son his breakfast. Nodding after receiving her chores, she headed down a large tunnel toward the kitchen area, adjusting her sandals once she'd turned a corner but before she entered the doors. She also played with some of the beads at her neck and adjusted the small belt at her waist that cinched the cloth in tighter around. She'd rushed that morning and had to take a few extra seconds now to readjust. Finally she stepped into the kitchen and watched as it buzzed with some activity. The taller girl was acknowledged by a chef with a nod of his head before a straw-woven tray, actually very sturdy, was pushed at her. On it were various foods, though small portions because breakfast was not a huge meal for them. The chef looked at her, pointing a sharp object in her direction, even though he was a good few feet from her. Don't you dare eat a bite of that... We discovered the other girl nibbling at the Prince's food... Needless to say, she doesn't work here anymore, he threatened, then hastened her off through another door which would lead her more easily to the Prince's quarters. While she gathered that the story had been more or less fabricated, she refused to even look at the food. It smelled good, however she would have to wait for more of her breakfast until the boy did not need her services that morning. She'd gotten used to this routine and easily skittered around corners, past pillars and paintings and toward his room. Finally she made it to the doors where two guards looked at her, not even feigning genuine interest. I have the Prince's breakfast, she said quietly and looking at the tray. They made distinct knocks on the door before opening them. Not sure who was actually in the room, Tahirah walked in a few steps and quickly glanced around before walking toward him, her head down. Her brown eyes flicked upward so she didn't bump into anyone or anything as she approached. Carefully she held out the tray, offering it to him with a light bow. Your breakfast, sir, she spoke quietly. Her voice was soft, almost a purr in the way she formed her words. On the tray was a small portion of cheeses and berries as well as torn bread and a few dabs of sweet jam. Other foods included bean cakes and an egg, as well as two slices of pickles and a small, hot glass of sahlab, a sort of spiced milk. Tahirah had been with the palace for a few years but only recently, within the last few months, had been 'promoted' to caring for and looking after the Prince. The job now was a step above where she had been before - a little less back-breaking labor, at least out in the sun. Now most of her work involved being inside and attending to any possible whim of the Princes that she could... It got frustrating sometimes. Carefully she set the tray down on a table nearby him but didn't leave - she couldn't until he had dismissed her.