May I sit with you?
She inquires with a crook of her head, and if he were to accept, she would come to a relaxed point just adjacent to him. Her eyes follow his, tracing the outline of the jagged edge of the Sunspires to the East. They guard Akashingo as if they were godsent.
He praises her for her devotion, and to that, a humble nod. I thank you,
a puff of air from her nostrils that echo a laugh. The Hemet-nekheb has treated me with great kindness and trust. It is only my way of giving thanks to her, though I feel there is always room to improve.
She had done the same for Khaba, ever so blindly and passionately, when she still believed he could do no wrong. Her beloved Toula deserved the effort tenfold.
A thoughtful look with a turn of her gaze that briefly lands upon his red-lined jaw. I come to you seeking guidance, Erpa-ha.
A wistfulness falls upon her stoic features, softness to her brows as the stars are connected with fiery eyes. She is a good woman. I feel I do not deserve her.
Because, truly, she didn't. A feral commoner, a woman who hails from a saltwater shoreline and once belonged to a traitor. One who still learns to speak. Perhaps there is guilt there, for having served Khaba at all, and this was her way of amending it.
A deep breath, long and painful and all-encompassing of her lungs. First,
her shoulders move as she adjusts herself. Tuna showed me where Raven is buried. Told me that you and she were the ones who did it. I wanted to thank you. Sincerely. You do not know how much that means. I think it was very honorable of you both.
Selena, she was sure, would be thankful, too.
And second,
now came the hard part. Now, her knuckles clench, nails digging into the earthen floor. There is a woman who was ordered by Khaba to attack Raven, which resulted in her death. I do not know where she is. And I am wondering if you think it is wise to try her.
Osiris. Zaahira could only hope He was with her, wrapped around her shoulders.
And Senmut was right, in that respect. She wished to avenge, whether it was the will of Akashingo or not. Although she was not one to deny the Palace's orders, the desire for blood to stain her teeth was hot. If she returns, and if the Divine One wills it, maybe she will rot in a cell alongside Khaba. That is a fate worse than death. They can have each other.
Silence, broken once again by a shift in the summer air. You are a priest, yes?
a lowness to her voice. How do you advise I cope, then, Erpa-ha? How do I live with knowing she is out and running free? What God do I pray to?
Osiris, in this regard, could only do so much.
No.
because nothing would ever be enough. But it is a start. Maybe I could breathe again.
A heavy emphasis on the maybe. He was right; death does nothing, solves nothing. All it does is mean you are just as unholy as the one who committed the first crime. Blood looks the same from everyone.
But oh, Gods, how badly she wanted to seek it.
Sekhmet?
she mirrors, the harshness of her mother tongue turning the name into something fierce. I will speak to Her. Tell me, Senmut, does She have an altar?
she hangs eagerly on the edge of his response, a glimmer to ultraviolet eyes.