Lion Head Mesa יַקִיר

“Semer-wati Rashepses,” he crooned from the seat of his high-backed throne. His look was severe; two half-discs fixed upon the younger man from beneath the heft of his brow. But in the consort’s languorous smile shone shimmers of amusement.

“Generations. Though my wife will provide a more precise answer. What brings you to our palace, Izaiah?” There was no one else in the chamber of state save the fellahin, who understood their duty was to pass from sight. So it was with full interest the sesh held the king’s eyes, which roved and appraised to their liking.