Lion Head Mesa texas

"of course. thank you, tuna," senmut murmured, trying to keep nazli from his mind.

he turned his eyes upon the redstone columns, upon the inner corridors of the mesa. there would be paintings, armfuls of flowers, the sweet scent of clean places.

the throne room had been kept dusted and appointed, carefully preserved for the seat of their regent.

"do you miss your pharaoh?" senmut asked. " it as a god, but as a woman?"