Lion Head Mesa copper

ramesses slept. he dreamed. and when he woke, the disappointment was still stark and apparent. and so he had called for the palepink beauty of kasmut, and she had comforted him, wringing out his body over and over until at last ramesses slept deeply, wooed by her and by the wine that the fellahin had shared with him.
he did not send her away; she lay lightly pressed to his bed by an outflung, sleeping arm.
it was with a splitting headache that he woke, wincing with a grimace of white teeth. sun sheeted down in great shafts of light. tavina was there, murmuring something he did not hear.
"tell me again," he commanded in a sharp, muzzy tone. he rolled to sit up, lifting a paw to his head. "bring me water, first."
tavina was dutiful. patient. the patina of the night cleared from his tongue.
"why would he leave?" ramesses demanded in a petulant tone.