Lion Head Mesa adoration

A silent handmaid knows never to answer such a question with honesty, even if she did not doubt Toula’s sincerity nor anticipate reprimand for an unfavorable appraisal. She hesitates.

“They’re certainly all very handsome. Of course, looks don’t govern a kingdom but I should think it would not hurt to have someone attractive to sit beside.” Her lips rouse into a small smile. “Lords Harakhte, Thutmose,” a pause, “and Prince Senmut.”

She fills a narrow basin to spill warm water against the back of the Queen’s crown and down over her neck.

What did she truly think of them? Underwhelming. Prince Harakhte makes himself scarce. Prince Thutmose was perhaps better suited to lead an army than a nation. She’s certain Prince Senmut hasn’t known a moment of laughter in all his life. And these are the men her vibrant Queen has to make Pharaoh? She will of course be forced to acknowledge her own biases- that any one of the three would make Toula a proud consort, but none could match what the Queen offers.

She deserves a husband who's willful, charming, capable and intellectual. Devout. A man who commands the room when he enters, who cares about the people of his realm, who inspires loyalty and coalition, and equally as committed to his wife and her happiness. A man who wants to heal and complements her good ambition to do so. She deserves desire.

Above all she deserves a true choice in all of it.

“Do you feel passion for any of them, My Queen?” Eset draws a cleansing paw across her shoulders.