Lion Head Mesa desert rose

she saw he and his come around the corner into their hallways. oh! giftbringer! she knew his face, now, and his scent. this day, there was more to it; cardamom, southernwood, and fragrant earthy things! her nose worked to distinguish one scent from the other, a tiresome activity.
she heard: princess. toula. princess toula. two words that toula had now come to learn meant her. and so when her name was called, her eyes alighted upon the man whom she loved fiercely already. his gaze was not upon her, which was a curious thing, as usually when called it was rather clear that the fixed point of attention was herself. but then his gaze was back to her. she saw something different there in his gaze, something that made her stand a little taller.
it seemed he had come to a decision then. and toula rejoiced, coming to join him, her joy evident. this day, her world again grew bigger.
away from her families quarters did they go. she was well-looked after, and cared for by her own attendants for the hours spent with her father the pharaoh. she voiced no complaints, but those with them in his procession could read well when she did tire. when they came to pass the temple of satsu, toula thought their gestures very pretty; she mimicked them daintily. she could sense the solemnity of the moment, and that this part of the day was not so joyous as the rest.
but as they drew away, toula came to find happiness again when introduced to sweetmeat and honeycomb. the latter she seemed to favor, so new and so sweet it was! she could scarcely get enough of it! and to pair the sweetmeat and the honeycomb together... she had not the words to describe it, and so she hummed her delight whenever she saw it before her.
toula always wanted to be near her father. the shade followed her where she went. her soft blue eyes surveilled all that he did, and she did so in the fashion she observed him to. their journey continued, up until they reached the riverbed. toula looked to her father, who guided her into the waters. they were warm, and welcoming. soothing in the way that they rolled against her belly.
and then her father began to sing. toula looked up, holding her breath until she could no longer and joining him only in humming the melody. she could not yet speak any words, but she loved the music he sang. her love for him increased tenfold, to know that this was something they shared! his singing paused, and he passed to her an object she, on any other day, would never want to let go of. she could not yet understand his words, his instruction. she only felt the compulsion to sing, too, as his song reverberated throughout her. it rattled against her ribcage, until it flew into her throat.
rather theatrically, toula flung the rock out into the waters, singing, Raaa! as she did in a triumphant,  elated note. she did not know that coincidentally, she had done just as he had asked... nor that her voice had brought the name of the one they worshiped to pass her lips. but she beamed up at her father, even as a ray of light from the warm morning sun then held them both. in it she was warmed, and basked in the presence of her father. did he love her song, that she had sang for him? as she had loved his own?