Lion Head Mesa akhet

ramesses chuckled richly and stretched out his long limbs. "the prince is restless. would you like to travel with her in the spring?" he did not expect to have what he wished this season, not with snow upon the ground. "she should know the vizier who might one day counsel her."
it was a lifelong position, after all. and a good, cunning Hand of the Pharaoh kept himself alive long enough to die an old man, outliving his own rulers.
ramesss thought he saw the same ability in gucci, hidden behind the saccharine drawl and genuine well-wishery. 
so long as he was pharaoh, the vizier would report to him. let one of those reports be upon makono herself.