Lion Head Mesa 武士 Yūyake

a piece of satsu melted.
she thought of crying, as she had for the sake of crowfeather, or for pharaoh as she demanded that he return unharmed.

still there was something cold and hard about her.

tamar, the girl murmured in to the furs, as if this were her bed in her own little space, not that of her betrothed; she did not wait long before reaching across the furs for the fellahin.
comfort, that was what she needed.

besides, when else would tamar ever be this near ramesses' bed?