Starglow Basin fifty-second

it was quite a story. for its beauty and intrigue, senmut believed it at once, and despite the priest's propensity for embellishment, found akhtar strangely compelling.

a noble who became a holy man.

"the gods see our worth far better than the eyes of any mortal," senmut remarked, and glanced at the manifestation of Bast among them. "even now, a goddess travels at your side. your blood ordained you for a path that Ma'at did not mean for you."

a breath, swelling; a somber look; "i am a fellahin. you know this. child of many. plower of dirt. eater of wheat. now the queen sets her eyes upon me, and i know in my spirit that my presence beside her will dishonor the lineage she carries. that m-my blood, mingled with —" he could not speak it.

"that i am made to serve, carved to worship. not to lead. not to rule. not to father a nation, akhtar." the voice, a whisper; the green eyes sorrowful and pleading.