Luneshale Pass [aaf] the weight of history

note: object noted is no longer intricate gold-made cuff! but something gifted, temporarily "wearable"

there was scarcely time to rest for a Queen, but the truth of it was that she had more than enough of it! but now, her focus was for @Ashikaga—and it remained such, up until the moment one struck upon the opportunity of her gemstone gaze turning to again catch that of the Sphinx whose band she wore around one ladylike ankle. reclined before him, in the position of a sphinx herself, Toula crosses one demurely over the other for him to behold, the smile upon her lips true and real and for him, then!
duty had kept her away, and then the preparing for this feast. and now she would have no more obstacles; what use was being a Queen, if she could not at least do this one thing for herself then? she looked to @Zaahira, who was like a shadow to her; she entrusted none more than her to the task of, protect her, which equally meant, protect me!
she trusted Ashikaga. but she was aware that she should not. and for all of her love, she could not afford to be a fool. not when the words of her father rang like a bell in her ear. war, to claim the Pharaoh's seat. and perhaps the words were not meant for her, but for Ashikaga. perhaps the words were premonition. dreams were strange, and the Gods were stranger still in the ways that They saw things done.
once more she turned to @Rashepses. she trusted @Senmut with Ashikaga, as well, now too. the Prince was closer now, and again their eyes met—a match striking against stone, the friction bringing the brilliance of a small flame. but this small flame could grow, become fire that could catch anything—fire that eventually could burn the world.
this then little flame was theirs to carry, to grow. his voice was as she had imagined, and such was indescribable to a wolf that had never seen silk drag over coarse sand. smooth, deep—divine. like herself, he was of a particular pedigree—born and bred a God. Toula stood slowly, dipping her own head a measure in polite response. again that small smile, for him. she thrilled at his first spoken words to her. the way in which he said, My Queen.
Toula had never known such a feeling; it lingered warmly in her belly. but in not understanding it, there was no shame to be felt, not then. to you as well, my Sphinx, and, in seeing his invitation, she swept gracefully from her dais in graceful descent and she hummed, please, rise. as it so happens, I quite enjoy dancing, with a sway of her tail as she led them to the would-be dancefloor. she pauses before him, while the fellahin take to a new melody.
would he know the steps? it was a common song, one where the man would take the lead; Toula observed him with bright eyes, prepared to follow him step for step in this dance.