Lion Head Mesa A fake brother, who steals your jeans.

belen had studiously stayed away from the prince's rooms since her ill-fated and failed seduction of his counterpart. akhtar was busy with welcoming the sun each morning; his voice rang out twice a day, and soon it would be time to rest during the hottest portion of the afternoon. but not yet and not now. she was in the pharaoh's chambers, changing out the bedfurs and piling the current to be washed. but the sound of jawahir's voice drew belen at once, and she drifted out from the bedroom — and stopped short. the hebsut was not alone; they had left a striking young woman alone there. belen approached and bowed low. "welcome to akashingo, my lady." was this the promised wife? she was dazzlingly lovely, and the servant girl was suddenly jealous.