Lion Head Mesa the wheat from the chaff ☥

heartbroken, unsure, khaemwaset withdrew into himself.

a flurry of bowing servants followed the boy as he strode out of the mesa; he batted away their coddling and demanded that senmut accompany him to the riverside. "i will give thanks to the flood," the prince declared, hiding as well as he could the fact that only scant hours before, tears had stood angrily in his eyes.

khaemwaset could not bring himself to be angry with beloved merneith, and so he turned his rage toward the gods.

beside the river, amiir plucked petals and threw them into the water. "hail to thee, O Serpent, who manifests thyself over this land, and comes to give life to akashingo."

despite the quiet urging of the high priest, the prince's words did not hold joy.

"mysterious is thy issuing forth from the darkness," khaemwaset mumbled, throwing another blossom into the cold waves, "on the day whereon it is celebrated."

he thought of her eyes; in his mind, he heard her run from him.

"watering the trees created by Ra, to cause all life to live, you give the earth to drink, untiring one," he finished with no fanfare, flying into rage and strewing petals at the edge of the river until his sides heaved.