Lion Head Mesa They say strange fascination, infatuation

It played in her mind most days as she worked, whether she wanted it to or not.

Cleaning the wellspring brought to mind a rush of recent memories, and Nazli's work would slow. She would ruminate over them, and blush, and hope that no one noticed.

Others knew of course; Ramesses boasted, it was his right. Nazli remained oblivious. She chose to ignore the looks of other fellahin or the sound of their whispers. She did her work as best she could, and carried on as if nothing had changed.

One morning she woke feeling light-headed.

The next, it was the same only worse: and her breakfast did not stay down.

You work too hard, she would tell herself, and continue on with her day — meanwhile, it felt as if something had changed, only the girl could not figure out what. She would stumble from duty to duty, moving as deftly as she could within the halls, and keep out of sight - but sometimes, the feeling that overcame her would force her to tuck in to an alcove and retch.