Wheeling Gull Isle embrace of the scarab

such a simple word. she was an empress, so she claimed. why would she tolerate being called by her natal glyph? "i am pharaoh," ramesses corrected with a roll of his gold-kissed shoulders. "she knows nothing. our father wished us" — here he lied, seeing no reason to include the truthful shame of it, that seti had chosen hatshepsuun as his successor — "to rule together after his death. but she took the throne herself."
"a lesson to be taught when her captains have already begun to defect and the high priest who oversaw our birth resigned his post in disgust. any child that is not of my loins born to her will be unrecognized in our line." a breath, and he turned his head to where the sea lay cold and black beneath the snow. ramesses did not mind speaking of such, not when he could mold the story in a more sympathetic way for new ears.
"but these are things she must learn herself, empress huā. she will call for me when she understands a queen has no counterpart but pharaoh, and she will be humbled in her ignorance."