Free The Forgotten Tale Of Larsa by Seja Majeed Page B

starting to make him feel much more at ease with it. ‘Very well, go ahead and kill one of my whore women, and make sure she looks like the princess. You can have all the gold you need to conceal her body. If we’re going to do this, we must do it right. By the gods, let’s just hope it’s enough to put everything right; if it isn’t, then I’ll not only lose my throne and my gold, but my favourite whore, no doubt. I can’t think which is worse.’
    ***
    ‘It’s a shame that such beauty has to be wasted; you should have brought her to me – I would have given her a memorable last night,’ said King Nelaaz, looking over the lifeless body of a young woman. Her smooth white skin, long dark hair, wide eyes and heart-shaped lips bore sufficient similarity to the features of the princess; it was the reason why she had been singled out and killed. ‘Who was she?’
    ‘A temple maid.’
    ‘Any man would be committed to the gods after seeing her there,’ said the king, biting his lip. Whenever he saw a pretty face, he couldn’t stop himself from imagining what it would be like to be sleep with the woman; it was a disgusting habit.
    King Nelaaz loomed over her. He had not noticed any sign of violence on her body, but quite frankly he didn’t wish to know the details. The only thing that was important to him was whether Marmicus would believe it was the princess. He walked around the slab several times, watching the undertakers carry out their preparations; the powerful fragrance of frankincense irritated his nostrils. Her skin glowed brightly; it had been moisturised with a concoction of essential oils. They poured strong perfume over her, mixed with saffron leaves and fresh pollen. Using a soft brush, they gently painted the perfumed dye onto her face, spreading it evenly along her neck and down her shoulders – only the wealthy could afford such a thing. Eventually her body looked as if it had been covered in gold leaf, the scent of death had been clouded with perfume, and her skin appeared refreshed as if life still ran through her veins.
    The longer King Nelaaz watched, the more he realised just how expensive this lie was becoming. The servants pulled a garment over her head, drawing it across her shoulders and down the length of her body; its encrusted jewels sparkled brilliantly as the light hit them. The dress had been stitched with gold thread. The vibrant colours contrasted with the simplicity of the white material.
    ‘What’s the world coming to? Who could ever have imagined that a temple maid would be given the burial of a queen?’ he said, watching the undertakers trying to lift her up. Her muscles had not yet hardened; she had been killed just an hour or two before, giving them enough time to conduct their ritual without difficulty.
    ***
    ‘They’ve arrived, Your Majesty.’
    King Nelaaz nodded, acknowledging the servant’s words. A rush of nervous energy filled him. He wished he could have a drink to settle his nerves, but there was no time for that. Every ounce of gold spent on this deception would be wasted if Sibius didn’t believe their elaborate story. Of course, if he did not, they still had the option to get rid of him and bury all traces of the enterprise.
    King Nelaaz watched the undertakers add the final touches: they lifted a solid gold funerary mask from the table and placed it over the dead girl’s face, concealing her features. It fitted perfectly over her eyes, nose and lips. They lifted her head gently and tied an elaborate necklace around her neck, its golden leaves and white pearls cascading all the way down to her chest.
    ‘This had better work,’ said King Nelaaz. For some reason his feelings of guilt had disappeared completely when he realised how much had been spent on the plan.
    ‘He’s here!’ said a servant, rushing in.
    ‘Don’t let him see her until they’ve finished. We don’t need another body on our hands.’
    The king walked out of the chamber, preparing