The other women were not exactly hostile to her, just indifferent, and she made no real friends. The paleness of her complexion seemed to set her apart. Only Kiya, the disgraced Nubian girl, had made any friendly overtures to her, but she mistrusted her motives and felt it unwise to encourage someone who had invoked the wrath of the queen, her son and the Pharaoh himself. Her only solace came in the gentle strains the musicians provided at almost every hour of the day. While they played she would sit and dream of her native land, or muse upon the strange stirrings in her soul. Tut-Tut’s words had not solved the mystery. On the contrary, they had increased her curiosity about her inner workings, and the yearning to be enslaved by a strong master was intensified. Charmian also found her mind turning towards Prince Neshi, and the experience of being waylaid in the bushes. Although she was terrified at the time there was a distinct pleasure in recalling his rough caresses, and remembering his sweet perfume that, mingled with his natural body odours, awakened dormant desires in her.
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