Counted With the Stars Read Online Free Page B

smudge of kohl streaked up to his hairline. It would need to be reapplied when we returned. When I’d been Liat’s age, Salima had to all but tie me down for my daily cosmetic regimen.
    I laughed. “Well, Master Liat, in a few years you will be old enough to stay awake until the early hours of the morning as well. I know the wigs are irritating—believe me, I had my share of wearing them for parties, and I do not miss them, but”—I winked and tugged on his forelock braid—“just think of all the lovely leftover treats for tomorrow!”
    A grin lit Liat’s round little face.
    â€œI adore banquets.” Sefora’s brown eyes twinkled. “All the ladies with their beautiful gowns, the flowers, the wonderful food, the music, the dancers . . .” She swung her arms back and forth, tripping out a little dance on her toes. “Besides”—she clapped her hands—“tonight I get to wear the gown Father bought in Thebes. I cannot wait!”
    My afternoon with the children had seduced me into feeling normal, as if I retained the same footing as they did. In spite of their position—and their mother—they were sweet children. They seemed, thanks be to the gods, to take after their father,Shefu. An attentive and affectionate parent, he lavished upon them their hearts’ every desire.
    Tekurah, on the other hand, was more concerned with raising her standing in society than in raising her children. She spent her days shopping for luxuries and gossiping with well-connected friends, gleaning information useful for climbing the social ladder. The children were an afterthought—a commodity to be trotted out at parties to impress the guests with their beauty, talents, and fashion.
    In only a few years, Sefora would be given to the wealthiest and most powerful man Tekurah could manage. Liat would marry the daughter of someone whose power and status his mother coveted.
    The two older children, Kemah and Talet, were already married. Kemah, only a year older than myself, had been given to the son of a powerful priest. Talet, the oldest son, had married the daughter of a steward in the house of Pharaoh, which gave Tekurah endless pleasure—and a direct line to court gossip.

    By the time we returned to the villa, Sefora and Liat were whining for food. I reminded them to protect our secret and then led the children to the kitchen to beg for a few sweet rolls. We took their treats to the main courtyard and sat by one of the pools in the shade of the regal date palms. The children devoured the apricot and raisin bread, licking the honey off their fingers. My mouth watered at the memory of the sweet taste, and I looked away.
    With a fresh coat of limestone whitewash, Shefu’s sprawling villa gleamed. My family’s home had been grand, but Shefu’s put it to shame. Servants carrying pillows, mats, oil lamps, and flowers climbed the outer staircases, preparing the roof for guests needing an escape from the oppressive heat of the mainhall. Many would sleep off the night’s drinking there, enjoying what little breeze might stir up from the river in the early hours.
    Shefu employed the most talented master gardeners in the city. A vast array of colors flooded the garden. Lilies floated in the courtyard pools, and the walls dripped with many varieties of grapevines and climbing roses. I entertained a fleeting notion of lingering here in the dappled shade of the palms with the children, breathing the sweet air and soaking in the divinity that inhabited the fragrances of the lovely flowers—but Tekurah waited. I slipped into the house again and fetched a pitcher of water to wash the children’s hands and feet.
    As I knelt to untie Sefora’s sandals and rinse her feet of the day’s grime, she asked, “Kiya, why do you wash our feet?”
    I laughed and tweaked her big toe. “Because they are dirty.”
    â€œNo, I mean, your