Lion Head Mesa Taken by the sky

The girl had gathered her gifts, and stood over them where they were arranged, counting and recounting them.

• one bundle of red feathers from the runner bird,
  
• one petrified fossil stone with small carvings laid in,
  
• a bundle of violet flowers, some dried and some fresh,
  
• A gleaming black bird's set of wings, intact and shining like oil.
  

All together, they were beautiful trinkets and had the possibility to be fine ornaments. Nazli was not sure they were enough; but she had to present them to @Ramesses soon, and they had to be perfect.

She was now trying to find a way to transport each item, or to arrange them together,  so that she could do one trip to his throne room, and could not figure out how to do it.

the fellahin would not have far to find ramesses. he had come in search of makono, and now stood gazing at the piles of treasure gathered by her servant.
"you did all this alone?" he said quietly, turning from the sight to settle his gaze with new interest on her lilac countenance.

She was involved, and almost jumped out of her skin entirely when Ramesses made himself known. The lilac of her fur was spiked every which way for a moment, and she hurried to smooth herself, and breathe, and try to look eager but not too manic from the surprise.

My lord, sucking a breath, tasting the dust of the alcove most prominently and then his distinct well-tended scent. Y-yes, I... Yes, sir. A swallow. She steps aside so he can peruse them, looking the part of a fine goods vendor rather than a servant for a moment.

but it was nazli he continued to watch; ramesses regarded her as one of the wares, standing beside her lot of them. something inscrutable flared to life in his lapis eyes, and then was gone.
he turned back to the items, lowering his muzzle not to touch but to look at the finery of each. "do i frighten you, fellahin?"

She did not know what to say.

Had Tavina not warned her to be careful, as a child? To be mindful of how one reacted to those of divine blood? She had to be careful now, for He was here, in private audience.

Yes, sir. She was honest, as if that counted for anything. I know you are divine, and I am only a lowly servant, and to be so near someone like yourself, or... or the princess, I am nervous.

She watched the wares, unwilling to look upon his golden fleece, and could feel his blue eyes burning like white-hot fire in to her.

I mean all of that respectfully, my lord.

his lazuli eyes moved over the gleaming feathers and the flowers, and then back to nazli. she answered with great directness and honesty. ramesses enjoyed that, but moreover he enjoyed the slight tinge of her reverent worry.
he watched her, pupils darkened as if he were a leopard. "you are good to be worshipful." she was as finely trained to her role as any palace servant with which he had grown up; he saw the stamp of akashingo upon her and in her submission. "suppose i told you to take one of these things for yourself? which would you choose?"

Take one for herself? She was surprised again, and looked to the various offerings as if they were new to her. Each held a value to Nazli as she had been the one to chase the running bird, or discover the petrified forest, or seek the flowers and the bird whose wings she'd carefully cut free.

I... I would have no use for them, sir. She shook her head and sank back, sitting, letting her chin nearly touch her breastbone for how low she tilted herself with the bow of servitude. They are fine things each collected for the princess, after all. If I were to choose... Perhaps the dry flowers, so that she would have those most fresh and bright herself.

A calculated reply, maybe. But it was honest too.

ramesses' laughter was rich and swelling. he saw how she bowed, how she chose the dried flowers, easily flaked and crumbled.
pharaoh wondered if she saw herself in them. he plucked one of the dessicated violets from its perch and held it against her cheekbone, seeking serpentine her eyes.
"you are a fellahin of akashingo." the little bloom fell away from his lips. "there are beautiful gifts in your future as well."
a pause, and then ramesses was turning back to the blessed collection of lovely items. "go and bring the princess here. we will give her these things together, nazli."

Much like with Senmut, Nazli struggled to accept the gift of the flower as it was held to her, and felt at once spotlit and sick with worry before the eye of the divine.

When given the command to seek out @Makono, the servant bowed and was away to fetch her. All the while, flurries in her chest and a heat to her face that she had to contend with upon finding the princess.

Your divine father waits, she indicates to the girl, then falls in to her usual pace alongside.

"your divine father waits,"

her ears turned on her head, picking up the voice. it could be none other than her lilac. how fitting that her father had decided to send her to be fetched by none other.

she only regarded her with a warm look and a soft nod.

a gesture for her treasure to lead her to where her divine father waited.

he stood before the treasures and beckoned warmly to his daughter. "i told your maidservant i meant to make a gift to you. she did not fail," came his rich purr, and he stood aside to allow the royal child space to look over her items.
he himself took a stance warmly by, his gaze upon her and unwavering, not even toward the lilac-furred fellahin.

She led the way, then stepped aside to let Makono enter first, and stayed out of the way while the royals conversed.

It was the pleasure of Ramesses' voice that then surprised Nazli, who kept her eyes averted for a long moment. She stole a glance and saw the way the pharaoh appeared to beam with a candid warmth, one which illuminated the room.

There was a flutter in her belly, warmth to the fine line of her throat; but she remained silent, and slowly shifted her attention to focus upon Makono's reaction to the gifts. That was what mattered!

her eyes noticed the colors the moment he moved.

all displayed in differ manners. red feathers, violets, slick black wings.

a fossil with carvings.

of course she did not. as if it was a question that she would. nazli knew the things that the young woman kept eyes upon. and it would be the lilac that she turned her gaze to now, for a moment, before they traced back to her father.

i have the redtail feather— once her mother's. he would know, wouldn't he? they will be placed next to it and cherished all the same.

ramesses nodded. "so let it be written. girl, help the princess carry these things to her rooms."
he himself stepped back; he brushed makono's cheek with a rare kiss and turned upon his heel. "when you have arranged your items, send word to me. i would like to see them."
with that ramesses smiled coolly at them both and began to set off.

Nazli need not speak. It was not expected of her. Ramesses gave an order and so she would move swiftly and silently to carry it out; gathering things with great care, and ducking away.

fade unless nazli wants to chat <3

of course,

lips in a thin smile. perhaps hiding some of the deeper warmth. nazli collected the things and turned. her father departed.

quickly she turned and followed after her lilac. only when they were in her chambers would she speak what she had felt the need to.

thank you,

Nazli spent little time arranging the objects before returning for some of the others, but when everything was carried over it was just the fellahin and the crown prince, and she let out a small breath of relief.

I am glad you like them, she let the tip of her tail flick with brief contentedness.

The um, the stone... she motioned to the petrified piece of wood with its carvings, and stepped back so that Makono could look at it full if she chose, I had asked the priests what to carve, and had them lay the inscription. It is a prayer. Your mother's name and yours are included there. Nazli had not asked for the deeper meaning and she could not translate the shapes, so ended her explanation there.

the stone.

she glanced at it for a moment, before her eyes swung upon the lilac. deeply touched. in a place that was tender nonetheless! it was not often that somebody else scratched at the mark of her mother.

oh, nazli. she whispered as she convinced herself to not cry.

she was moved and for a moment she could only stare back at the stone with glassy eyes.