Lion Head Mesa they feed on temple grain ☥

An enormous fresco of her namesake goddess smiles down at Neith from her furs. She stares at her minimalist features, at the eyes of yellow fire that flare from her face.

Suddenly her room bursts to life with color and fragrance and servants’ deft marching!  Displaced varicolored petals flutter to the floor in arresting cascades. She gasps, whirling, grinning, surrounded by the fellahin’s blessings and encouragements.

“Who’s sent you?!” Neith laughs, for a hopeful moment expecting mother and father to turn the corner into her rooms–

She is no less emotional to see Khaem standing at her door in his beautiful, darkened glory. So much like papa. And strong; strong enough for both of them. Neith’s eyes dampen and the princess draws her brother to the center of the room to join her rose-tinged dance.