After her banishment, she had wandered for some months. Eventually her body let go of its milk, relieving the Egyptian of her inner maternal cry for Neferure, and she healed, though her mind was never divested of her hatred for Thutmose and how he had reduced her. The woman settled in a location far enough from Karnak as not to arouse her brother's ire, and after some time received word that their father had been laid to rest and Thutmose II was now Pharaoh. Hatshepsut never returned to the place of her birth, but set off in resolution that one day she would reclaim that which had been stolen.
The pallid Pharaoh held her interest; she watched him closely as she spoke, the lapis lazuli of her eyes cool with intrigue, giving a sharp nod at his intelligent words. Curiosity burned in her breast to know his innermost story, but she was sated by the tale provided: a father's order to his handsome son. “Why did he not marry you to your sister?” the Regent inquired, contented enough with his manner to relax somewhat and lower her haunches to the sand, plume coming to rest 'round her forepaws.
Perhaps the royalty of Khafra did not practice the old ways, but Hatshepsut felt that they were the proper conditions to assure the continuation of any lineage, and was interested to know if such an arrangement had been made, only to the dissatisfaction of the man before her. While she appreciated the specimen of his masculine beauty, his story was what was important to the cool hunger of her logical mind, and with an open expression she waited for Ankh to respond.