Wheeling Gull Isle but sleep won't set me free

maegi's smile was not the brainless tepid curve of bored royalty looking upon a subject. it was warm with edges of distance. the exile grinned. "i am ramesses the second, son of seti.  Keeper of Harmony and Balance, Strong in Right, Elect of Ra."
a pause.
"you may call me pharaoh."
how lovely might she make the tones of it, for already maegi had ensnared his interest despite his deep distrust of her, despite his analysis of how her rank might elevate his own.
"what made you come to know poison?" ramesses inquired, moving to search her eyes with the lazuli heaviness of his own. for what reason did she seek such a cloak?