Lion Head Mesa myrrh

There would be a time for the full tour of the estate, but for now the regal whisked his riverlad to a gleaming room which he had arranged explicitly for leisure. He gestured to a fine hare rug and sunk his silken form down upon a pile of silver swan plumes.

Three fellahin quickly came to attend them, two to massage their shoulders and another coming round with an offering of sweating berries.

“Summerwine,” he told the boy, “especially sweet.” He flattened the fruit between his teeth and held up an arm for his servant girl to stroke.

“Tell me about your training in Ta-senet,” he purred, shifting a pleased look at Inaros.