Golden Glade kinpaku

a raucous, smug laugh. "it is true. we are filthy creatures, given to our carnal desire. not so with women," ramesses teased, though he too fell silent at the touch of the wind, the dance of it through candlewood canopy, upon his own withers, through the poured-cream closing of satsu.
pharaoh was reminded he knew very little of her, but what he had gleaned so far pleased him immensely. he set about watching her with a candid look, royal observation of a servant.
however, one who could choose such a life was not born to toil.
she was humble then, the humility of a chaste woman. what did this chastisement ever do for anyone?
pharaoh lay back upon the soft grasses underfoot, sighing in satisfaction as his eyes found the interlaced branches above.
"my father meant me for my sister, and she for me. it is the way we preserve our divinity," ramesses intoned with the lackadaisical air of one who saw nothing wrong with the image. "that is the difference between a god and a man," he taught, turning his cheek until satsu filled his vision once more.