Lion Head Mesa ninety-seventh

a governess indeed! no royal children born within their esteemed scarlet gate had ever heeded the word of a servant — senmut would stake a trade of moonshells upon that.

it was a title, no more. he knew it. rashepses knew it. and yet they remained to glimpse if nasima comprehended the intention of her beauty.

a bow, low, forehead to brush the coiffed floor.

senmut said nothing, only backed toward the entrance and waited for the new jewel to follow him. let her be fed into those marble teeth, and what was the care in his mind to warn her of such?

senmut then was surprised at his bitterness.