Lion Head Mesa Whoever lets himself be led by the heart will never lose his way.

She would never have presented herself like this in public.

If she had expected his call or had heard his coming footfalls, she would have swept away the scraps of half-formed thoughts that had taken the shape of rudimentary drawings on papyrus strewn about her floors to smooth out her fur and stand poised in greeting.

But with his sudden voice- a leap of heart as she is bent over a sketch, her eyes shooting to the archway of her own modest room to find the luminous silhouette of Thutmose. Her mouth parts but it is for no words. She is speechless.

No one has ever sought her here before.

Quickly she takes to her knees before him, bowing her head, “My Prince!” is her startled exclaim.