Meeting Set [Ancient Egypt AU]
Bakura only bowed lower at the man’s words, trying to stay as invisible as possible. But when the man touched him, Bakura flinched and looked anywhere but the man’s eyes. It wasn’t proper to look into the eyes of someone higher in status than him.
When the priest finally let the slave go, he nodded and went back to bowing.
"Yes sir, I am indeed the Pharaoh’s personal slave. I am so very sorry for any trouble I have caused. I’ll clean this up straight away."
He couldn’t afford any more work, as he was already behind now because of this.
Bakura reached for the bucket, using the rag to soak up some of the water, but the man’s words had him hesitating. Dare he speak? Would the man be so lenient for the slave that had already gotten in his way? Well, perhaps it would be worth the risk.
"Uh, sir…I have extra rags. I can try to clean your feet, if possible. It may not be much, but it will keep you until you can change."
He bowed low again, clenching his eyes shut for fear of any reprimands or volatile actions.
"I am sorry, I spoke out of turn, sir."
Set may have grown used to the palace and the perks of his position, but the way some slaves cringed back from him still made a small part of him uncomfortable. It was the part that remembered being unimportant, that remembered the struggle to reach a position of power. No-one would call Set a particularly kind man but neither did he go out of his way to be harsh to the slaves. At least not when his temper remained uninvolved. Though today he was more irritated than truly angry. The water was an inconvenience, nothing more. Set had just reached the decision to remove his shoes and walk barefoot back to his rooms when the slave spoke to him again. One of his eyebrows curved upwards in visible surprise; few of the slaves dared break custom and even less around him who had a reputation for harsh decisions. What fewer knew, was that he admired the spirit necessary to do such a thing. The slightest of smiles had his lips curving upwards at the corners of his mouth. It would not surprise him to find that Atem had been instilling bravery and a disrespect for custom into his slaves. “Do not apologise for offering a practical solution.” Set held out one of his feet, nodding to the man below him. “Go ahead and dry them as best you can, slave-” He paused, brow furrowing in concentration. “… What is your name?” Set couldn’t remember if he had ever learnt it.
Bakura nodded and grabbed a few of the dry rags, drying the man's foot and shoe as quickly as he could. When he had finished with one foot, he moved to the other. Only when he had finished and once again presumed his prostrate position did the slave answer the man's question.
"My name is Bakura, sir. Thank you for allowing me to service you."
He bowed once again, forehead to the ground before he took the rags and continued to mop up the water on the floor. At least the bucket wouldn't be nearly as heavy to carry to the kitchens now.
The teen kept his head down, arms working over the floor quickly. He had assumed the priest had left and his chest loosened considerably at the thought. Just the idea of those in power around him made the boy tense up.
Why could they just leave him alone? All he wanted was to do his work in peace...
At least the man had not punished him, like others would have.
