Lion Head Mesa rivulet

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"your majesty."

tamar's voice was quiet. she stood with her head bowed before the queen @Satsu. night had turned the flatland sky to cold velvet.

"i went to the mazoi."

her pale eyes lifted. "i know what you seek now."

the halls were quiet, save the quick steps of tamar.
her voice called and satsu drew her in to the chamber, hushing her immediately, keeping her from the eyes of others.
her face warmed.
in her chest, a trembling heart.
it took a moment for her to ask, but she would ask—no, demand, tell me.

the queen scorched her with demand.
tamar swallowed.
she put her mouth close to the royal ear and began to whisper;
tamar said many things: of the pounding hearts and the taste of a kiss;
of the body's response and the brief, necessary discomfort, before the adjustment, the acceptance.
the sounds that might be evoked, the way honey and wine spread across every pore and inch of flesh,
the way the heart might seem to stop at that moment, the clasp of eyelids and —
tamar smouldered with shame. surely she betrayed arsenio in this moment.
the way that one lay languid and boneless and sated after;
"it is not something to fear."

the woman leaned close.
it was not a servant that spoke, but something greater—this girl was transformed by the experience, satsu thought. soon it would be satsu who was transformed.
girl to woman, to queen.

this was a lesson brought to her with flowing, flowering words. she felt her face grow warmer still. chest light.
every detail brought a new emotion to satsu's face and for once she was glad to have her own quarters, to be sheltered.

afterward, buzzing with all this new information, satsu did not know what to say. she drew from tamar's closeness and sat by her bed, digesting.

tamar looked only once toward the queen.

she was silent, and the maidservant matched this with her own.

there were more details to give, but they veered from word into action. she had not yet been used this way by the royal woman. but the fellahin served who they were given to serve.

in time satsu would return to tamar with her questions. unable to look at her, or be her prideful self, or make demands now, she was sombre and girlish and shy.

it is no wonder that ramesses seeks this so often, if it is such a good thing. satsu reasoned.

she felt a little sick to her stomach as she then combined what tamar had told her, with images of ramesses, and the memory of the wellspring, and - she swallowed her thoughts.

i am glad that you obeyed me. she went on to admit. she wanted to apologize too, somehow. to make up for this order which was fundamentally so horrible to demand; it was not satsu's right to demand such an act from anyone.

but then she remembered tamar, the halfblood. tamar, the gift. tamar, the servant who could be made to do anything. this only made satsu more certain that things were meant to be this way.

if... given the choice, if you could go to the mazoi again, whoever it was... would you?

tamar was not sure how to respond to the first. 

nor the second, though that received a duck of her head in acceptance.

but the third — 

she thought of arsenio, of the strength in his arms.

"yes," the fellahin said carefully, her pale gaze curious and wondering upon satsu.

a pause.

rising, no longer diminished by the weight of what was shared with her, she turned towards the door.

as she passed by tamar in the center of the room satsu lingered with her a moment, and said: you have done me a great service. if you wish to be with the mazoi, i will keep your secret.

for now. for as long as it was convenient of the queen; it was a promise, but also a threat that satsu did not see sitting between them.

but she felt good in saying this, and with a turn, silently dismissed tamar to go.

it sickened her, that the queen should order her service to the mazoi and then call it secret.

she took the words to mean that from pharaoh she was protected.

the maidservant bowed low and backed from the room. the sob that threatened to rise was stifled as she walked stiffly, hurriedly, along the corridors.