Lion Head Mesa after while, crocodile

whispered words of who had been taken to bed by who reached her ear. she wished no longer to have any type of veil over her eyes, as once—for her protection, it was said—had been done. 
only the word of one had been heard thus far, since then. it had awoken some semblance of curiosity in her. for what reason did the queen want to hear of these things? 
one was obvious, though not to all. not yet. only by Eset—
much occupied her mind. Khusobek. Inji. was that passion? or was it the thought of Senmut and his flower, with that song; the vision of Thutmose laying luxuriously upon the rugs they two picnicked upon together; the idea of meeting the most handsome Sphinx, the latest newcomer, at long last and laying their eyes upon one another for the first time? 
it was late, but not too late, that Toula roamed the halls with @Tuna at her side. she knew all that occupied her mind, too, and all would be shared but later, when we see Eset—or after, if you are more comfortable with that, for in her there was a new and strange sense of urgency to know and to understand. 
her naivety would do her no favors, she now understood. and it was at the door of @Eset that she now stood, another fellahin calling her name gently.