Lion Head Mesa shaduf [m]

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the royal man laughed softly. "not poison. what benefit is your presence beneath my roof if you are dead, charles?" he stretched luxuriantly against the glossy furs. "it is only wine, to whet you. to soften you. too long have you been tense. rest."
the lazuli eyes grew cunning. "i want you in my bed. i have wanted that since i met you in the strath." no room now for sidestepped words and a lazy dance; ramesses grew hot with desire. "but you did not come to me. force makes a poor bedfellow." whatever was thought of pharaoh it could not be said he fell to violence for his satiation.
he studied the sharp, handsome features of the coywolf. "i intend to use you more gently than you have been used before," and his voice was the sweetened liquor of a courting lover, filled with an allusion he did not clarify.
"there is a lovely girl here, a princess from a neighboring ally. i meant to make a match for her here, but alas; the man who loved men fled his place and returned to his lover."
ramesses smiled slowly. "but since you have no such predilections, charles, you will marry her. it is not for love, it is for convenience, and you may treat it this way." he leant forward, a pale adder atop riches.
"in return i will give you power in akashingo. you may shape this to your own will — prince."
the bait was set and the hunter reclined to wait.