Lion Head Mesa deshret

Arsenio watched the Pharaoh speak to his people with charm and warmth. His tail wavered pleasantly from side to side, his lips curled into a tiny smile. He had opted to keep the glassy-eyed appearance for the Pharaoh’s announcement. If he stood at the foot of the queen and made sure no harm met her, all would be well.

The words that were spoken were washed away in thoughts of the maid’s voice, the way she said his name, the sharp glint of her brown eyes. Arsenio wished that he could tease her again, to fluster her until she turned from him, the way that he had grown used to it. It was funny for him to think that a maid would have bewitched him so, but he did not mind. If not for Tamar, Akashingo would have sickened him.

The Greek guard held his spot, but his eyes traveled to each of the wolves who listened to the Pharaoh speak, then to the two leaders who stood at the head. Such an odd pair, the lady Satsu and Ramesses. Standing beside each other, they were a stark contrast of each other – a smiling, basking man and his frigid wife-to-be.