Sly Fox Sand Dunes daughter of the Gods

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The fellahin, their heads bowed low, scurried about their tasks in silence, their gazes averted from the woman draped in furs and the imposing man standing vigil nearby. As his golden eyes took in the scene, he knew precisely who sat at its center.

His aunt by marriage, the wife of his uncle Rashepses. Her reputation preceded her. A subtle thing that brought a light laughter to the man's throat.

Samir slowed his pace as he approached, stopping just short of the camp’s edge. His head dipped into a graceful bow, molten eyes lifting briefly to meet hers before dropping again, his expression a mask of polite deference.

A faint smile played at his lips, the corners twisting just enough to betray the cunning that lay beneath.

"Pharaoh Toula," his voice was that of a cobra's, quick like a hiss. A striking vibrato.