The first dress stall that didn’t look like it sold the most expensive stuff attracted Assou. Even before he was noticed, he had positioned himself in front of the salesman and straightened his shoulders. It took barely a breath before he was recognised.

“Vizier!” the man opposite him gasped. “What can my humble stall do for you?”

“I seek clothing,” Assou returned. “Simple clothing that will make me look like a man of common people.”

“I don’t think I can help you with that.” The man before him seemed lost. His eyes wandered over the merchandise, but it was impossible to decide on anything useful. “My goods don’t do justice to your presence.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Tersely, the vizier waved it off. “I want something that a common man will wear. It matters not whether it does me justice or not.”

“I-if you are sure of that...” The vendor hesitated for a moment before combing through his wares and pulling out a piece of cloth. “I have this light shendyt here. It only goes to the knees, though. And please allow me to offer you this tunic as well.”

Both were colourless and without embellishment. Neither pleated nor remarkably well made. They were light, simple fabrics that caused heart palpitations because they were strongly reminiscent of what Nagib had worn. Fatrada would notice the change and she would think that he, too, could live as a simple man – which wasn’t a lie. He was just a man with the great fortune of possessing an important task in life.

By now, the sun had half disappeared behind the horizon. The walk back to the palace and the straightening of his clothes would make the evening fall. Then he would be ready to meet Fatrada’s eyes.

Hastily, he paid for the pieces of cloth before turning away and making his way back. The whispering of people, the snippets of conversation that caught up with him, brought the paths pleasantly to life all at once. The lively mood everyone brought with them lightened his every step. A bit as if it were contagious and chased the good mood right under his skin, where he knew how to enjoy every moment.

It wasn’t until he reached the palace that the silence caught up with him and brought calm, emptying his thoughts. No one met him on the way to his study, no one waited for him behind hidden shadows. There was only him, in the middle of a world quieter than the night before him.

Between papyrus and paint, Assou changed his clothes. The simple tunic was airy, though not what he had expected, and the shendyt completed the image of a commoner. It fitted together and yet there was this feeling that he had no business in the palace dressed like that. If Maathorneferure saw him, he was sure to be ridiculed. With a soft sigh, Assou pushed the thoughts away. He had to concentrate on what lay before him, and that was none other than Fatrada. The woman who had clouded his senses and yet, in no breath, allowed herself to be flustered by him and his position.

Once more, he adjusted his clothes and ran a hand through his pitch-black hair. Then he set off, back into the city, down to the fields that lay quite a distance from the palace. On foot, it took an eternity. Even if he could have covered the distance with a horse from the royal stables, he had to cling to the image he wanted to convey to her. The image that would convince Fatrada instead of her smiling at him.

Taking a horse and hiding it later was out of the question. The animals were more valuable than most of the palace’s treasures and no one would pass up the opportunity to steal one if the circumstances presented themselves. The only way left for him was on foot. That, and the certainty that Fatrada would look at him with different eyes if he proved he could do as much as Nagib.

The dusty path led him past houses, along small green plants that some had painstakingly brought to life, and also along reeds growing by the water. Smells mingled, combining spices with the scent of damp clothes. Watching the lives of others go by in this way differed from chasing past it all on horseback. For the first time, Assou had time to look around. Every step brought him forward and gave him the opportunity to look at this land in all its beauty. Even as circumstances became poorer and he watched eight people living in a small house that might have held two horses. It was these families that he came to visit in the foreseeable future to collect taxes. As a vizier, he simply came and went, breezes in his hair and water on a belt. This time the wind was still, he had no water with him, and time passed more slowly.

These people were poor. They had the bare necessities to feed themselves and to sleep full at the end of the day, but they owned only that. Worn clothes that had been sewn back together more than once clothed slender bodies. The men in this place were nothing like the traders in the upper part of the city. They were thin, even gaunt, and yet strong enough to go about their work in the fields. Some of them were far older than Assou, wearing only a shendyt and leaving their upper bodies bare. Ribs stood out. Skin wrinkled at the crooks of their arms.

Assou sucked it in. Ramesses had brought peace with him, and yet there was still poverty. They weren’t needy enough to not have a roof over their heads, but the differences remained devastating. It was unlike anything one perceived in the quick ride through.

Two children crossed his path, playing catch with each other while a woman shouted something in the background. Their laughter made the situation more light-hearted.

The fields were getting closer. Whenever he glanced at the horizon, darkness greeted him, growing gloomier with each image that slid past. Behind it, a sparkle spread across the sky. Tiny dots, not yet wanting to be noticed, but slowly growing. Assou counted them. Over and over, trying to tame the emptiness within that generously nestled against the melancholy.

Until he arrived at the fields.

The smell of plants tickled his nose and the humid air made breathing harder than between people and goods. A few torches had been lit to light the crooked side paths and also to guard the fields. It wasn’t difficult to spot some soldiers who had been assigned. The proud bearing and clear purpose in their eyes were unmistakable. Each of them knew what they had to do, and they accepted their tasks with swollen chests as if it would raise their reputation.

Assou eyed them as he passed. They all kept their bodies straight, their gaze fixed forward, and none recognised him in the simple clothing. Everyone who wore nothing remarkable systematically belonged to the common people. That simplified his walk.

Without pausing, Assou turned onto the path to the right. It was the best route to circle the fields once and then get back on the track to return. Fatrada was probably thinking the same thing. The likelihood of running into her on this path was the greatest he could think of.

His walk became a trot. He had to catch up, find her, turn evening into day because it was all he knew to look forward to. The restlessness inside and the tingling on his skin made him smile. So wide that he could no longer stop it as his breath swept in bursts across his lips and his eyes slid intently from right to left and back. Guarded by watchmen and wheat, there was no change in his surroundings. Houses lay in darkness. Torches drew shadows into endless eternity.

A woman rested by the wayside.

And Assou stopped.

His gasp stole the silence of the night as he eyed the dark figure. It took a moment before they turned to him, picked themselves up, and disengaged from the shadows. Towards him came the astonished face of Fatrada.

“Vizier Assou, what are you doing here? And ... these clothes?” She caught his presence with a glance and her brows lifted. The fire of the torches shone in her eyes, while her airy clothes left lovely charm on her body.

“I am merely taking one of my walks,” Assou replied. He had been thinking of that sentence for what seemed like an eternity. It was a believable little lie to avoid looking like a complete fool. But Fatrada’s smile made his heart sink a stage lower.

“Your walk? With all the respect the gods can muster, but since when do you spend your walk running around?”

It hadn’t escaped her notice that he had been in a hurry. The haste was still in his limbs, and the certainty that his excuse had been blown within seconds shamed him. Fatrada wasn’t a woman who made herself look stupider than she was and she didn’t care that she was putting him in an awkward position.

“I ... got caught, I suppose.” Embarrassed, he scratched the back of his head. There were no words to talk his way out of this mishap. All that remained was for him to play along. “Well then, I must confess that I was looking for you.”

“For me?” Slowly she pushed her way back to stroll ahead at a leisurely pace. Assou followed. “What makes you come looking for me?”

“Self-interest.” He didn’t know how to put it without making her feel backed into a corner. He couldn’t possibly tell her that he had sent a messenger after her.

“The guards,” he then began slowly. “They told me that there was a woman hanging around the fields late at night. When they described to me who it was, I thought I’d find out myself. And ... what can I say? As I walked along here, I was afraid I might miss you, so I ran.”

Fatrada tilted her head to the side so she could look at him. The smile on her features refused to believe him, and yet she seemed to find joy in this conversation. Something that entertained her and that Assou was happy to indulge in if it meant being able to spend time with her.

“Well, vizier Assou, you have found me. What do you want from me?” She clasped her hands behind her back as Assou could hear the beating of his heart rushing in his ears.

Inner tightness stole his breath and made him vulnerable so that he hardly dared to open his mouth. Anyone else would have told her long ago what the meaning of these circumstances was. But Assou found no comparison with others in this chaos full of logical conclusions and illogical options behind them. In those breaths, he had her attention. A little hope away from her work. Here he didn’t have to buy a sack of wheat to have a conversation with her.