Sky Mesa muscle & water

it took an exorbitant amount of strength for zaahira not to scoff in his face. it sounds as though you feel you are unworthy of her.
if pharaoh cannot bear children, that is a problem that is between her and her husband. it is her blood that we serve, ultimately. not his. he provides only the seed. rubble breaks away from the rocks beneath her claws and tumbles down the side of the slope. the pronghorn are not stupid — soon they will know something is wrong. her voice lowers.
you are allowed to be selfish in some things, mazoi. you worry that you will not be enough for her, but how do you know this? her eyes narrow to a squint. beneath your hard shell, — a veneer of stoicism, misanthropy and, if she had to guess, functional alcoholism — is a good man. or at least a man that she finds desirable. and you would be foolish to let her fall into the hands of the crown because you think you know her better than she does.
she paces a few cubits ahead of him and crouches for coverage beside a tall, shielding cliff. here, they would wait.