Lion Head Mesa the only thing that haunts this house is me

marina seemed moved by and by. her eyes which had been averted from his own now came to rest upon her. pharaoh gestured with a tilt of his head toward the array of meats which had been laid out before them. "you have traveled a long way. i intend for you to find respite so long as you are within my palace."
many bachelors. it was not quite the life he meant for belen, but she was a resourceful and saucy little servant. in some ways she reminded pharaoh of maggie. "she has served the queen and i well in akashingo. i have little doubt she would be a fitting ambassador."
politics was practiced and now it dulled along his tongue.
or perhaps it was only being up here, beneath the cold arch of glittering stars, their glow illuminating the perfect seawater sylph at his side.
"your listener. what is it they are wanting to hear?" wordplay upon the name of her ruler; ramesses however did not care overmuch to hear of a leader who was not himself.
he wanted to touch her, but it was not yet the moment.
instead the royal gaze filled with a tantalizing desire, one which beheld and gilded and appreciated. "for that matter, marina, what is it you are wanting to hear?"
it came to pass that they spoke the same words.
marina yielded. ramesses consumed. in time they exchanged these roles, burning for hours in the pristine bedchamber of the haughty king.
he would keep her for as long as she was willing to remain.
blackwater would come again for belen, marina assured. ramesses thought only of when he might see her again, and when it came the hour for her to depart, pharaoh himself saw her off with great fanfare.