Lion Head Mesa creeps in its petty pace from day to day

"akashingo welcomes those traveling royals as allies," senmut said, countenance smooth despite his growing interest in the intrigue of her. "i am senmut, erpa-ha, hereditary prince to akashingo, and high priest. our pharaoh honeymoons in her desert palace of pleasure with her consort."

he turned; a fellahin moved forth to shadow the princess with a frond of preserved pine, for despite its coldness the winter sun could be a pierce of detriment to any coddled complexion.

she would be brought to a set of rooms along the wellspring, bodies shifting, moving in silence and bringing furs, a meal, and the winterdrink, and senmut did not speak until they had gone away. "i am interested to know of this mynydd," the prince said, but he had not sat. "shall you rest first?"