Lion Head Mesa forty-first

senmut let out his breath solemnly; he moved until his scarlet arm was gently around nazli, holding her to the straight-scribe framing of his flank and ribcage. there he cradled her against the palace-glossing of his pelt, trembling in time as he sought to contain his emotion.

"she would want also for you to no longer be fellahin," senmut insisted, at last gingerly setting his chin lightly over the dome of her head. "when she comes back, you will rejoice in new honor. and if she does not, then live in her name as well."

priest and servant, his voice turning to the reverence of prayer.