Lion Head Mesa I never can quite seem to pull my weight

ramesses laughed aloud but this time he did not press crowfeather. "i have no argument with that. i trust jawahir's judgement but perhaps you have not seen the jewel's work." or any work, for that matter, any pleasant task. he knew enough to be aware that crowfeather had not yet called sayyadina to his bed.
so he remained a chaste virgin. and presumably the hebsut was not returning with an experienced woman, but a suitable bride. "akhtar, our new priest, practices atop the mesa. he is a holy man and you might find his company rather grounding."
and yet even the sacred wolf had fallen between belen's pretty charm.
it turned to sport silently in pharaoh's mind, seeking who might fell crowfeather first and prepare him for the wedding night that would surely come.
"what shall we speak of next? or shall we dine, prince?"