Ocean's Breath Plateau the feathered wings of jeweled gods

ramesses sat himself down elegantly in the path he had meant to travel. "brook." it lacked the rolling syllables with which he had been accustomed; it was a simple name. a humble name, one that reflected again the sort of man aditya was. pharaoh wondered if brook was meant to be a priestess to the sun. Hari, the prophet had called him.
her figure had not softened.
ramesses took a different tactic as the girl's words tripped over themselves.
"i am pharaoh," the man said proudly. his lapis gaze skimmed her goldspun accents. "you need have no fear of me."