Lion Head Mesa Primrose

it was the wrong thing to say, and had khaemwaset not been transfixed by the glory of the Horus Throne, he might have forcefully commanded neith, that there should be no other existent between pharaoh and queen.

instead, the prince filled his lungs with the sweet air and smiled softly at nothing.

he was intended for satakhetem in the same way dear merneith had belonged to den since their first hour. yet this room and this moment inked itself to the proverbial papyrus of their soul.

pharaoh. the sound of it moved upon his spirit. "i will build a new tomb for my queen upon the crushed flesh of our enemies." an act of devotion, khaemwaset meant to assure their afterlife while they still drew breath.