Chapter IX. The Maid Lady

-Do you need anything, dear lady?

-No, you are free to leave.

She was ready to go before she said, “Zainab, stop.”

Then, in the same haughty tone that she used to address the servants, she said: The next time you offer anything to someone, don’t look him in the eyes; instead, keep your eyes fixed on the ground.

– Your order, madam.

She returned to her basement room, humiliated, she was not used to this treatment, she lay on the bed, daydreaming, she is a distinguished lady, her maid follows her wherever she goes, and she does not take her eyes off the floor while she speaks to her, a child of her age has a fertile imagination, nothing will stop her from dreaming.

She promptly fell asleep. It was after eight o’clock in the evening when she awoke in the middle of the night to something rocking the bed.

-Wake up, wake up.

She could barely open her eyes: what? What happened?

-They have many secrets, Zainab.

She yawned, rubbing her eyes: secrets? How did you know this?

-Don’t you notice! It is forbidden to enter the palace except for a limited, selected number of servants. One thing unites them, they are not from Upper Egypt! I noticed that many of them spoke in a peasant dialect.

-Yes, but what do secrets have to do with it?

-Something they’re hiding, why didn’t they stop you from going upstairs? Or even out of the palace door into the garden?

-Don’t bother them, they did this to protect me, they don’t want anyone to see me by chance, so they know my identity.

-Who will recognize you? Hasan said to rest assured, they have no servants from your village at all.

-Yes, but despite this, the safest thing is to stay indoors.

-Well, let that go, why haven’t we seen Hassan in two days!?

-I don’t know, is he okay?

With admonition and a little anger, she said: Damn him, he saved us from death with his white horse, he defended us and protected us, then he leaves us here and goes!! I started to hate him.

-What’s wrong with you, Hatshepsut?! What are you charged with! A few days ago, you were saying that he deserves me.

-Yes, Zainab, and to be worthy of you, he must see you, and he must sit with you. Many things must happen before this.

Hatshepsut is angry…

Things are not going well, she longs for Hassan, she wants to see him, contemplate his face, and hear his voice, while Zainab has seen and heard what a girl of her age should not hear and see; Her thoughts revolved around the furnace, killing, persecution, and what the wise man had done to her sister. She longed for Hassan as well, in whose presence she felt safe. As soon as she felt safe, she began to feel something else, a deep desire for revenge.

Whenever he was near her, she thought she could do that, challenging the whole village, the sage, and the council of wise men.

Zainab: May I ask you something?

-Of course, my dear.

-The old man talked about a curse and the secret of the burial. He said it is possible to expose all secrets!

Hatshepsut’s face turned red with anger, more than ever before, her eyes sparkled, she clenched her teeth, and she put her hand to feel her neck as if something was strangling her, she was in pain, almost exploding, she said: Don’t you dare utter this again, do you understand me, Zainab?

She jumped off the bed in a panic, retreated until her back stuck to the wall, and replied: What’s wrong with you! What made you angry, did I do something wrong?

Suddenly, without introduction, Hatshepsut calmed down. She approached her and, in a tender tone, whispered to her: Don’t talk about that again. Those secrets are magical talismans, like the ones the priest read when he cut my throat. They are very dangerous. We shouldn’t talk about them.

-Well, I won’t do that again, but do you know them?

-I told you we shouldn’t talk about them, stop Zainab.

-But just tell me, do you know the talismans?

Her eyes fell to the ground, in a tone of weakness, as if she were an obedient servant. “Yes, my lady,” she answered, “I know them, but I beg you, stop.”

She looked at her scornfully, she didn’t look like the strong, authoritarian Hatshepsut, but rather like a servant!

She stands in front of her humiliatingly, looking at the ground, not taking her eyes off it, addressing her as my lady!

-What’s up with you? Why did this change you?

-Nothing, madam, but I kindly ask that you refrain from making me recite magic spells. I was very hurt by them.  Since the beginning of time, they have harmed me. When I was freed from the crypt, I thought I was done with them

-Why did you act in the same way with me as I did with Mrs. Karima? Do you mimic all of my actions and my speaking style? I must kowtow to her because I am her maid but, you are not required to do so

-I will not refuse you a request or disobey you because, O Lady Zainab, I am your servant and have been since the moment I moved in with you till I became your property.

Looking at her suspiciously, she said: “Are you doing this to comfort me?”

-Why, ma’am, do you say that?

-Before I went to sleep, I was daydreaming that I was a noble lady like Mrs. Karima and that I had a servant who spoke to me and stood in front of me in the same ways that I did. You have now granted my wish!

-No, but it is the truth, madam. Eventually, you’ll be treating everyone humiliatingly. You will dominate the necks of everyone around you. They will taste humiliation at your hands. You will be the center of the universe, everyone revolves around you, and they have no choice but to fulfill your desires, and they will be compelled to give you anything you want.

In fact, Zainab’s question is quite logical. Since her childhood, she was brought up on stories of burials, magic, secrets, and curses. First, her brother died, buried so deep that no one could exhume him in one of these burials. Then her sister received what she received of torment and injustice, then she was burned in the oven, in the name of the burial and the curse, and she almost met the same fate, a child with a fertile imagination, very fertile, and in this country, the power of imagination doubles.

The human mind is capable of embodying fantasy into reality if necessary, especially if this fantasy is the boundary between life and death.

So what confirms that Hatshepsut did not do her a favor, to console her, and make her live for moments, a feeling she wished for, and a state she desired?
Or even perhaps, and they are from the imagination of a child, she matured before her time, she saw, and heard, what she should not hear and see.

Or perhaps it was indeed Hatshepsut, the playful girl whose neck was slit, atonement for her sins.

At some point, fact and fiction no longer matter

What is important is what Zainab sees and hears. This is the whole truth for her

As most importantly, what she will be, and what this will lead her to.