Lion Head Mesa Sessho-seki

a cry rent the redsands. qiao paused from tending the sparse garden plot she’d made, long ears swept in the sound’s direction. 

with dirt still dusted upon her shins, qiao came across ramesses. beneath him was a still body. 

at first, qiao assumed it the simple corpse of a fellahin killed in the throes of passion. yet ramesses’ composure spoke otherwise, for what king mourned the death of a whore?

 qiao’s expression changed from flat to cold as she stepped close and observed it was not fellahin, but the queen. the flecks of foam along satsu’s lips told it all. careful, my king — do not go close to her mouth. the hemet urged, waiting for his go-ahead to inspect satsu.