Hideaway Strath linen

"my father enjoyed the dancers." ramesses lifted a paw from the waters, examining the way that it streamed from his claws. "if he took a particular liking to one, he invited her to our home for a time. he bestowed his favour upon her."
the glint in his eyes filled the space where details must reside. how many bastards had seti thrown? how many illegitimate sons now old enough to bring forces against hatshepsuun? and she, ready to be deposed for the simple fact that her brother had been exiled and could sire no god-blooded son to take the throne after they both had passed.
"kynareth has the same appetites." dance before him; dance below him. was this what satsu wished?
ramesses saw in her now not the careful air of a warrior, but the shrinking reticence of one made to serve them.