Lion Head Mesa fatat khadra'

ram out!

the girl's voice trembled in the air, incense before the sensibilities of pharaoh. yes — he was pleased, and the entitled fire of his stare shone hot and wanting over her bowed head. "i do not think you have come here to steal. and you have not been brought here to be kept," ramesses went on. some dealers in a darker market used force for their offering. akashingo would not be such a place, and promising as she might be, the royal did not intend to trap the girl.
"feed our guest," he told jawahir lightly, at last turning his gaze toward her. "see that she bathes and sleeps. when you rise, mouseberry," pharaoh went on, "i will introduce you to the rest of us."
the girl was far too terrified and underfed to truly influence his ardor — yet. ramesses had no doubt that jawahir would make of her a far more crystalline thing, and choose the moment in which mouseberry might be summoned to his rooms.
pharaoh was generous. patient. 
having given his edict, ramesses swept grandly away, filled with the rich and energetic desire and its anticipation.