Luneshale Pass Night poem

it was all very beautiful, and now, Toula rest comfortably on the furs lain out by Eset. still she did not feel the pull of sleep. while soothed by all the thoughtful things that the fellahin had, noticeably, brought to make this space a home during their traveling... there was much to think of. the night, the princes—but most importantly, it felt, the surprise that had returned home to them.
Pharaoh. Akashingo wished to be Pharaoh. whether Toula called her as she was, a Princess, or not... it did not, would not, stop her sister for wanting it. why had her father not foreseen this, as a potential outcome? but perhaps he had. and perhaps he knew a daughter of his might bring war to them, to again vie for something not their own.
not now, at least. not yet.
she sighed, placing her tapered muzzle over a foreleg. her turquoise gaze found that of Eset, who had gently asked her a question to which Toula shook her head. stay with me, she willed of Eset with a sigh, the words more a request than a command at that moment. Toula wished she could bask in the pleasantness of the evening, but found again her title demanded more of her than to give in to the whim of her delight.
that could come after. I am sorry, to have added to your work tonight... but I do hope you were able to enjoy yourself, she breathed, thinking now of a way to celebrate the fellahin and their labors.