Hideaway Strath giza

now that he knew her lowborn roots, ramesses rankled at the thought of being placed so far below a slave, one who wore the jagged marks and scarring of heathenry. pompous, incandescent inside himself at the cool sound of the priestess' removed tone, pharaoh bowed his head. "jewels for your bower, divine one." voice to match, devoid of anything save for a canny edge of respect. he did not wish to fall afoul of kynareth or nyra in this regard.
once upon a time he had known another pale priestess, one with a turned foot and a fathomless gaze turned toward the farflung shore of the crowded island. a poisoner. ramesses wondered if in this place of warriors, such things were also known. 
he thought it impudent and dangerous that the grandmaster allowed children born that were not his own. this despite the fact that ramesses had assumed the current children to belong to kynareth, and that of the snowstruck overseer as well. 
ramesses waited for the priestess to engage or dismiss him; he would have preferred the former, though his own rancorous curiosity was biting at him now, demanding to know how a slave, even one beautiful, he begrudged, had climbed so high into the canopy of the saints' tree.