Lion Head Mesa barque

politely, pharaoh bathed all vestige of others from every inch of himself in the warm waters that ran below the mesa. they had cooled, but he hardly remembered winter as more than a memory, and so hardly noticed. the flowers below had started to close, giving off less of their cloying fragrance. yet their musk was heady as ever to pharaoh, who rolled and rolled among the petals.
thus cleansed, ramesses padded quietly through the stone corridors and little side-rooms, searching for satsu.
whether he went above or found the careful woman within her pink-flowered chambers, it did not matter: in his jaws, a smooth green stone, a gift.
and when pharaoh found her, he lay the object at her feet where it glittered, and his eyes shone the same, with only a hint of their usual sardonicism.
"be my queen, @Satsu."