11: Injustice

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Satiah barely had time to compose herself before she was corralled into the great hall with the royals again. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice the lingering signs of dismay in her features, and she was careful to keep her face turned away from the prince, even as he was seated beside her at the dinner table. Her father took a seat on her other side, and the rest of the royals and priests filtered into the spots that remained. The Pharaoh sat at one head of the table, with the newly initiated Seto at the other.

With so many in attendance — Satiah counted twelve including herself — and with the excitement of a duel still fresh in everyone's minds, the Initiation Ceremony soon became the main subject of conversation at the table. As the food was brought out, the priests took turns recounting the battle in morbidly gleeful tones and prodding Seto for details — asking why he chose the ka he had, or how he'd felt after Heqab's first counterattack. Satiah found this type of vain enumeration a bit distasteful, but in truth she was glad the attention was anywhere but on her.

Their heightened voices soon settled as many began to fill their plates and mouths with food. Satiah quietly pushed her own meal around on her plate with her spoon, avoiding eyes and questions as much as she could. It wasn't until the priests began asking Seto about his homeland that her and her father were finally dragged into the conversation.

Karim, guardian of the Scales, caught Seto's ear: "Saqqara is just outside Memphis, is it not? Have you ever been to the holy city, Seto?"

Seto nodded and turned his head toward Satiah and her father. "Indeed," the priest said. "I had a brief apprenticeship under High Priest Jahar, who was a high-ranking member in the Memphis Conclave. Right, Nomark—?" Seto stopped, concealed a smirk, then corrected himself: "Oh, I'm sorry. May I refer to you by your given name now, Metjen?"

Satiah felt a twinge of spite; it flickered across her father's features as well, but he pushed through it with a smile. "Certainly, Guardian Seto," Metjen said. "And, indeed — Jahar tutored my own children for many years. Does he still maintain his position in the Conclave, Guardian Aknadin?"

Aknadin didn't look the least bit entertained by this attempt at casual conversation. "I am not at liberty to discuss governing activities with civilians," he said flatly.

An awkward silence followed, in which utensils scraped loudly across plates.

"Of course," Metjen replied. "My apologies."

Satiah stared indignantly across the table at Aknadin, her hand curling into a fist around the stem of her goblet. Atem must have taken notice, as he placed his fingers across the rim of the cup, drawing Satiah's eyes away from the priest.

"Would you care for more wine, Satiah?" His voice was low enough to seem innocuous, and it succeeded in easing the tension at the table. While the others carried on discussing new topics, Satiah looked hard at the prince, trying to decipher the intent in his veiled eyes. His hand continued to rest idly on her glass, until she finally released it.

"No, thank you," she said quietly. "In fact, I'm feeling a bit fatigued. I think I may retire to my room for the evening — if it please the prince."

Atem didn't respond right away. Eventually, he, too, released his hold on the cup and diverted his eyes. "Of course."

Satiah bowed her head lightly to Atem, then turned to address the other royals. "Thank you for your kind hospitality today, your highness," she said to Aknamkanon. "I apologize for my early departure — I am quite weary from the long journey."

The king smiled and made an empathetic gesture. "I understand completely," he said. "Please, let the servants know if you need anything."

She whispered a "thank you," then stood discretely and bid goodnight to her father. As she turned to leave, Atem grabbed her lightly by the wrist, stopping her short.

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