Lion Head Mesa thirty-seventh

such a pairing intrigued him. for all the cold upper hand that taltos meant to maintain, his efforts were sundered by the drunken woman beside him. 

senmut did not ignore her; he listened intently to this tale that veritably marinated in her disdain for akashingo and the things its prince had said.

resentment for her father. loathing of wealth. a sad understanding of one's place divided in by sex and class. swan doubted him and senmut, who had gleaned much from her diatribe, said nothing until its end.

"there is nothing more to say." a tap of his rail brought a servant. "reconsider, in the morning. the hemet-nekheb is a kind soul. for now, allow the fellahin to bathe u or bring you to your chambers, or both. i had you lodged together."

a glinting smile. a dismissal of the guests to their lustier forays, the existence of which senmut almost wanted to know.