Luneshale Pass emotional torture

Well.
If you take her hand, her tongue flicks, and she comes to a lurching halt; eyes bright, burning, sincere; warning. you are not just taking her. You are taking her people. People who love her, who depend on her. Who would defend her with their lives. the ruff of her nape bristles, spikes up in a flurry. She is young. Sweet. I cannot tell you what exactly her taste is, but I can tell you what she deserves. And that is someone who would cherish her. Protect her, and who and what is important to her. Shares her values. A kind man, a strong man. One who grows to love her just as we have.
Silence, before she sucks in a breath; I was not born of Akashingo's soil. I believe that Ra showed me the light by guiding me to her. I would do anything, her teeth grit, pressing together with a clack; anything for her.
And no man who claimed the throne of pharaoh would rid her of the loyalty that fired within her synapses, ran down to the coding threads of DNA that made her who she was.

And if it were up to her, there would be no man upon the throne at all.