“speech”
To sit at his side, to wear the crown of Queen upon her brow, to hear the court of Karnak repeat her titles, to see them bow — it had not been enough for the diminutive woman. The lapis of her eyes continued to hold Ankh's own, the tight limning of her lips a clear indication of her displeasure at his keenly pointed question. But it was one that held validity; had not the Regent asked the same of the snow-cloaked man? And so at last she stirred, prising her stare from his to regard the ocean beyond them. “I would not have stayed.”
A mirthless smile tipped up the corners of her mouth, and in time she returned her attention to the pale Ankh, he who wore the headpiece of Pharaoh but did not share in the beliefs that had strengthened Egypt for many years. To ask of Thutmose, to question her loyalty to the throne of Karnak — it had been an intentional inquiry, perhaps one devised to reveal. Hatshepsut was well aware of the court's-games that royal children were reared to play; she was well-versed in the nuances. A lesser-bred beast might have simply asked the Regent what it was he wished to know, but Ankh wore the stamp of kings, and ancient lineages flowed in his veins.
“Would you have married your sister, had your father willed it?” came the slow purr from her lips, her eyes once again trained keenly upon him; it was but another step in the formal game, and her disposition grew still and cool once more.