Lion Head Mesa Tiger lily

he had another sister, khaemwaset knew, when his eyes were not filled with the darkling antelope girl over which father and mother had already whispered their intention. he did not know this, only their bond; he spent his days fawning after satakhetem, bringing her tiny gifts, ordering the servants to fetch some pleasant morsel or another. all to see her laugh. all to see her smile.

khaemwaset enjoyed his entourage, but not when their voices so loudly praised him. the young prince grinned; he sent them away down the scrubbed corridors, and sought the tendriling of neith's path where she had went away.

his eyes saw how in her believed solitude, she admired herself. khaemwaset admired her as well, considering the mother ordained by gods who had given life to them both.

his reflection shimmered beside her own, suddenly, her opposite. carved from nightfall and gold leaf, he grinned his spiked smile and showered her with an abrupt cast of down-feathers.

in soft-snow breaths, they floated down around he and neith, and khaemwaset watched them both in that still reflection. "a swan. i made the mazoi let me kill it."