Lion Head Mesa Ṣalāt al-Janāzah

jawahir pauses in their chewing to huff.

if he knows, he keeps the secret. but they do not suspect this is something that ramesses is aware of, or if he truly would care that his queen was as vermin-blood as those that serve her.

they look to the doorway of the hall, where some shape is moving about, just out of reach. red fur; arsenio.

words come for tamar's ear only.
i have heard her speak openly of her father but not of her mother. the courtesan's face is passive now, her lips barely moving, in case the guard's eyes wander; but it should not matter, he is not taught their words, and he is only a fisherman's son.

will you use what you have learned, sister? watching tamar now, intently.