Lion Head Mesa the long night

Whether or not anyone had noticed it, Zaahira had been pushing herself harder.
Quieter, as of late; a mask of her accent when she did speak. Straight-backed, training when she was not eating or sleeping or on guard. Praying more, to gods that were now her own.
Sunspots and his heathen of a brother seemed to circle her like vultures. Harakhte's comments in passing.
Uncivilized. Rude. Feral. Khaba's woman. Traitor, traitor, traitor—
But Khaba was the one who was imprisoned. Not she. And she had grown to love Akashingo more than she ever could have dreamed of loving the Lake; but the real question was if it loved her back.

Today, she is caught in the middle of a rest during training when the Queen approaches her. She lights up at her presence, a wash of a kind, beaming smile. Hello, Divine One, as she dips her head in greeting. how may I be of service?