Lion Head Mesa bird of paradise

pharaoh did not answer.
in the light of day the scene was more graphic, more powerful. the blood had blackened beneath even the morning sun, and ravens rose in murders from their royal tread.
ramesses ordered away any attendants near. he stood gazing hard upon the sacrifice, at its greatness, its stillness.
the silence went on and on, until his voice sounded again, though he did not look toward her.
"did your pet we'eb tell you that only the crown prince kills for the Apis Bull?"
his voice would be unreadable.
another stretch of quiet. "suppose i took from your brother's head the uraeus of power and gave it to you. suppose i humiliated him before akashingo because you have earned the title and he has not. you love him and he does not deserve that slight." no inflection. "how would it bode well for your rule then?"
but it was not a question to which ramesses sought an answer; yet he was wordless now, for he know makono would speak profoundly.