Lion Head Mesa Meal for one?

When she spoke the title of sovereign, her eyes flowed with flames and wonder while her jaw parted a smile. Every muscle of his mouth, face and eyes, she examined with great lure. All of it, she took in within that second.
A flea of his person bit into her skin. It suckled and latched until her veins quivered. She learned something new of him. Servitude! And then she yeanred for more of his engraved history.

"It could be," her voice chipper. Her cheek pushed roughly down, stroking her face and skin to a nice scratch. That felt good! "You could make it be. The Queen could say it is not to be. Do you wish it to be? A Pharaoh is no Pharaoh without drive. Could he have such?"