Lion Head Mesa The winged sun

Mid-step, he paused to cast a look once more over the priest-prince– a man so tightly wound he was compelled to see him unravelled, again. 

“Lead on, Senmut,” Semer-wati’s voice lacked no impatience, but now it promised a tempestuous end should this matter only squander the precious moments he could have spent with his children.

Akashingo was quiet. It could be quick.