Lion Head Mesa serekh

a low sound of assent came from the pharaoh. as nazli curled into him, he pulled her closer. but his eyes were fixed on the far wall as he thought of makono, beautiful, ambitious makono.
how long did he have?
how long would he grant?
"yes. but she must change. and so will you."
the night's ardor seemed a hundred miles below his surface, and so pharaoh kept the fellahin close, if she slumbered, until she sobered.
"now," ramesses said when they had both surfaced from the swimming of heady drink, "go and rest. take the day for it," he ordered gently. she was no less lovely but all of him, all of him was turned to the love and fear and anger toward his own divine heir. 
nazli had pleased him with her conversation. he would call her another time.