Lion Head Mesa I sip on you to wash down the shame

romantic, perhaps. ramesses watched with a condescending disgust as the ragged and stinking man displayed a deep sorrow. however, with great credit to himself, pharaoh did not sneer. 
the thought of being commanded, however, provoked a great and audible scoff from ramesses. he leant forward, the lazuli of his eyes hardening into twin plaques.
"i answer to no gods but my own, merrick of ursus."
he sat back in the next, rearranging long limbs against the stone. "i do not wish to move to war. let them come to us."
he glanced to satsu. "queen ascendant of akashingo. i would invite you to share your mind."
nothing now in ramesses of the ardent, lashing, angered man he had been during their ill-fated bath.