Lion Head Mesa A Felicidade

On his lips grew a smile most serene, and as he witnessed the mutual reverence between mother and son, semer-wati was filled with a sense of religious awe such as he had scarcely known in the sanctuary of their manifold gods. A visual stroke upon each perfect form, his wife’s tender grace and Kem’s fierce richness, stamped as clearly upon his features as was Amun-Ra’s crown of sun. 

Close to his heart he bundled the other three, their varied shades of gold catching in the light and flashing bright like jewels against the king’s dark belly. Such enormous power was implicit in each as he pressed a nuzzle to their heads and a sent up a silent prayer of endless devotion. The God’s eyes were met intently with his Goddess's over the wealth of their brood and he feasted upon her great beauty, gleaming to him even more feminine in the days since their cubs’ birth.

“Pharaoh Shepsekare,” he named, smile broadening to think of his own father, “he is a stern King. Humorless. Nigh impossible to address after my mother’s death, but so content he was on my name day that the kingdom of Ta-senet in its entirety, from battlements to village, were treated to his laughter.” A rich baritone the mind could still recall with crystallized clarity.

“No man rules alone. It was the most important lesson to his sons,” he resumed, musing. A lesson the riverking would instill too within each of his own children. In ways Ta-senet seemed a separate lifetime than his existence here within Akashingo. His eyes remained uplifted as pleasant memories of boyhood circled back.

“He’d be quite taken with you, dear wife,” Rashepses' grin deepened. Perhaps too taken. Semer-wati was grateful the man was much too old and stubborn for desert travel.

“Tell me of your fondest memories with Pharaoh Ramesses," the man beckons, reaching first to kiss Kem's dark cheek, then pressing his lips to the silk of Toula's forehead.