Lion Head Mesa eightieth

something stirs racharra's gut as she sits in the royal hall. the pillars feel as though they may fall at any moment. and a morbid thought tells her she wishes they would.

prepare to speak to the royals.

now she understands why that message carried such a strange urgency, like a weapon concealed by silk. racharra pricks her ears when senmut speaks. her mother, proving her suspicions of only wanting to have more ogre children in her image and in her lake. the girl fights to maintain focus. then the direction of her bethroathal. a millitary captain? she fights to keep a brow from furrowing. did any of the moon villages have those? any that are her age?

Her Majesty speaks after the erpa-ha. short and eloquent, as anymore would just be to flaunt her power. racharra has trust that Pharoah would always keep the nebet's happiness in mind. toula would railroad and try to guide the girl rather than force her but sometimes even that felt too much for the nebet.

her lover speaks next. the Semer-wati is the coldest thing in the red palace. one touch could give someone frostbite even during the hottest of summer days. not that she'd know, racharra had only seen him once. but that one meeting the prince did not leave the then-cub with a good impression.
he's unamused with the idea of zharille's plan. instead he suggests that the beastlings that come from her litter with the poor sod that marries her be raised in akashingo's image. no way. bile forms in the back of her throat at just the thought, and this time she feels no guilt for it.

nothing is said, yet, of her bethroathal to a military man by neither. both royals instead ask for further details when racharra couldn't, and now she looks to erpa-ha.