Lion Head Mesa stele

arsenio and tamar!
pharaoh had always favoured the court and the bedchamber more than the military ring or the endless training with the jodai. it was a credit now to his upbringing that not so much as a slender nostril flared to give away his surprise and deepening interest.
"the soldier from mereo seemed quite close to you," ramesses commented as his figure was flooded with an electric energy. so that was where they had fled. and germanicus had known it, there was little reason to believe that lady meadow and brash reyson had snuck all the way to akashingo for a liasion.
his mind clawed to fore thoughts of makono. had she too known of epoch and seen fit to keep it from him?
meadow was all the sweeter a prize for the information she had unwittingly given. ramesses smiled toward her, the sugared grin of a courtier. "please. drink. the servants toiled hard to make it." 
oh, makono!  do you know you keep company with a flesh-monger?
it had been the imperator himself who had sold belen to pay for tamar. she had been a true slave to the palace; pharaoh had never become used to losing his hold over her. "i know the place well. i led a battle in the sunspire."