Lion Head Mesa obsidian

He had known the pharaoh would be married to Satsu, and although he was not a jealous creature, something close to dread pooled in his chest, icy rivulets spreading out and to the rest of his body. For a second he felt like he couldn't breath, but then his master asked something of him—something the fellahin could do nothing but accept. His expression was reverent. I would be honored, pharaoh, he answered almost immediately. That the golden god would trust him with the care of his sons was a gift.

But, master, once you have a queen— he swallowed hard against the icy fingers. What will happen to us? What use was he if he could not please his sun and moon in his most favorite way? A life without that seemed pointless.