Lion Head Mesa meadowlands

quick strides carried him down the hall's towards where Amiirad @Neith held her own space. there was a grand relief in knowing the young royals had returned. even if he had dread about a great many other things.

he had brought with him a meal. an excuse so that he might check in on the Royal Child who had been so kind to him.

her space had been kept tidy and freshened in her absence, the right of all royals. the altar she had constructed had been given the same service — and had seen his prayers daily.

can I just say I ADORE him

Someone had scattered flowers in her room. The petals, blushed red, offer their delicate floral scents to the air, a sweet mix which brings to mind her mother’s perfumes– and the way she and daddy left so suddenly.

Her head whirls to the occupied doorway, where her most favored fellahin now stood. Handsome, well-coiffed, bearing gifts and the olive twinkle that she’d come to miss.

Of the many dignities acquired from Moontide’s hunt, one of the most significant was learning to tune her smiles for show. The princess could crank it wide when she chose, even to crinkle the edges of her eyes. Perhaps this is the trick of royalty. A way to stay forever in the good graces of the world. 

“Charmion,” here the amiirad employs it, a tranquil greeting of full teeth, when really what she wants is to sink her face into his chest and cry.

<333 she has really helped bring him to life!

he did not miss that he was addressed by name and not his title. it warmed him that her kindness had not been lost when she had been hunting, when the whole world seemed to be turning upside down around them.

Divine One, he offered a bow and gestured to the things brought with him. a meal. it will be arranged for you, if you have an appetite after your travels.

meats that had been brought back from far lands, laid alongside more local offerings. a combination of things to bring newness and comfort alike.

and he has offered her so much development!

Stifling the tears, she bids him forward, an absent nod to the gilded crown. Though she has no appetite, she looks upon the abundant oblations, admiring their lures equally with the servant’s thoughtfulness.

Turning about the room, she pursues the cleansed walls with her eyes, trailing the tips of a marbled paw along the velvety furs. 

“Are you responsible for tending my rooms?” Neith asks, gaze finding Charmion over the prominent splendors.

yes for it is my duty and joy, Divine One. and there is a ghost of a smile on his features as her meal was laid forth. admittedly it had done wonders for him to stay busy amidst all of…everything. not to mention that cleaning the rooms of royals who would return had helped him soothe the pain of cleaning the still empty room of his Lord Gucci.

let the little Lord be safe, let him be on an impromptu vacation where he might return with wife and children. anything would be better than the alternative.

and you will find the shrine of Neith as cleansed and blessed as you last remember, too. he took a special kind of relief in telling her this. for her kindness that day had been an endless thing. when she very well could have shunned him!

Neith’s shrine. He had not forgotten to nurture her Goddess in the amiirad’s absence.

The welling tears, again whisked away with a small paw as she spins to offer only the cloaked back to the fellahin’s attentions. Of course, such were the obligations of a servant, even one contracted to serve one of the noble families.

“Tell me, is it a greater duty, or a greater joy to serve your amiirad?” The princess poses, her own sort of test.

she was quick!

he kept his eyes well trained upon the meal. softly moving piece by piece until he felt it was perfect. beautiful. practically an offering to the Goddess Herself! yet he did not say such, only admired the food he had prepared.

a greater joy. yet how blessed a man am i, who has found myself enriched in every aspect of life for where my duty has led me.

“I want you as mine.”

Between them, though separated by years and lines of sanctified blood, the girl felt she had encountered a spiritual advisor on the path. Though only days before she struggled with how to answer her aunt Tavina, she felt clear and unshrouded in his presence. Enough so that the words flamed to life in her throat, and the princess needed only free what she knew to be true.

“I will be Queen, Charmion. And it is you who will be by my side. Not as a fellahin. As my vizier. My most trusted, and faithful advisor.”

The air thrums. The princess turns to regard the coyote then, the glassy sheen now open upon her face, for no secrets would exist between them.

“But Pharaoh offers choice to her servants, and I shall do the same. If your loyalty to the Lord Gucci is stronger, then your amiirad releases you from her service.”

it was a very good thing he had already prepped her meal. otherwise he might have dropped all of the supplies at once. he had felt something similar once before when we had been told he was to become a gifted servant to the Lord Gucci. that time he had dropped all his supplies!

but here he was not being a gifted servant. she spoke of something infinitely higher than that. she wished for him as her vizier. how his family all might have fainted to hear such an offer given to their humble little son.

he was carefully placed upon a scale now, he knew. the House of Gucci might feel slighted by either him or the higher royals themselves. yet he thought of how much more in the world he might be able to truly do for those around him. he thought of how helpless he had felt in the wake of the wounded bodies and declarations of wars.

here was a chance to do and to pass it up would be a slight to himself more than anyone else.

i will give myself to you and your Queenly reign, Divine One. he bowed low and it was a worshiping thing. forehead pressed against the ground and the scent of scattered petals filled his senses. i only ask that you move me into a training better fitted to grow as your vizier. words spoken still bowed! he had no desire to humiliate or embarrass when the time came and he knew that while his skills might have been plenty useful up until now they still only belonged to a fellahin’s toolkit.

The acceptance undams something inside her, and the intensity wets her cheeks in full. She knew she’d have to send him away soon, so she can be alone. It’s as though the attendant has given his goddess permission to feel.

Her paw smooths the flecks of corundum underfoot. My stone, she thinks. My land. Her eyes move over Charmion, his head lowered with just enough deference to show respect without appearing cowed.

My regent.

She approaches the coyote, discharging him with a small touch to the sepia shoulder. “It will be done,” the amiirad smiles.

He would learn all manner of things– of the deities and how best to honor them; the history of Akashingo and the delicate political balance of her parents’ kingdom. All of which would be relayed to his princess. She may only ever appear as an emblematic jewel beside Pharaoh’s throne, but she and he would know better.

Neith settles before the lunch so tenderly displayed, clasping her tail over her paws. “This is our business, Charmion. I think it is important that we are discreet.”

a shoulder touching in history had much meaning. both in courts and in personal affairs. he had been knighted to her in this moment. it was the only thing that could have bid him to rise from his bowed state.

discreet.

your wish is my wish, Amiirad. and his voice was steady as him now. i will mind my manners and appearances. i am still akashingo's fellahin in the eyes of all.

only with more to learn, more to hear.

It lit her heart to see glory girded in his narrow face. And now Charmion was Neith’s, bound to her, and in a way, she to him. She felt honed to their new purpose, and in the morning would hammer out the finer details of the accord.

“We will adjourn for the day,” she tells him. The princess takes a small bite of supper, grinning up at her favored as she chews, thoughts spinning into their neat collection.

yes, Great and Divine One.

he swept with a bow. a brief smile before he is composed once more. the image of a perfect fellahin, of a pleasing servant.

he would make for the storage chambers where he might be free to brew upon it all in solitude.

As her fellahin departs, Merneith folds a paw over the other, hands together in perfect composure. Well, and truly hopeful for the first time in the wake of mother and father’s departure.

She retreats to bed, sprawling her golden limbs and pulling the isabelline lynx pelt across her shoulders; the one invoked with the blessings of the Goddess Neith and which invariably brought Charmion to mind. A smile bests her lips.

Threads of a future were patterning together.