Lion Head Mesa khepresh

set after this thread. the murder mystery continues! tagging @Nazli & @
Zakariya for visibility! <3 anything 'ordered' in this thread can be carried out BTS if that is easier ofc, and this thread itself can be one reply or RO <3

"our queen was murdered."
@Siptah, @Ashikaga, and @Makono were gathered to his left. ramesses had called them to the top of the palace that night. 
the fellahin had carried the body of their queen up the winding red path to the top of the mesa. as had been done with maggie, satsu would be arranged beneath the dry heat of Ra's breath, wrapped in thin, soaked pelts into which @Akhtar would tuck amulets and bones and herbs. 
in seventy days' time, the cloths around her would have tightened, and her body would have become little more than bones.
but now he stared openly at the stillness of her body. satsu's face had so been contorted in death that he had ordered it covered with reverence.
"our queen was murdered," and he stared toward @Jawahir and @Kasmut, eyes searching briefly for tavina, gaze cutting to @Gucci and @Lilitu and maegi, falling toward @Sokha and @Kasmut.
he had given the meat found at the scene to his sesh. she had wrapped it in large leaves and vowed to test its surface to the extent of her abilities.
and then lastly upon @Treva, with a glint of knowing and resignation meant for his heart only to parse.
"for the next thirty days, we abstain as a palace. we grieve. let each here gather gifts and bring them to this place, that queen satsu might have her comforts and her wants fulfilled in the underworld, where she will reign beneath the eye of Osiris, and wait for me to join her."
he drew a shuddering breath and cast his stare over. "hemet," pharaoh addressed @Qiao. "carry a message to mereo. tell the roman that i call upon him to fulfill his duty of soldiers, sent here to the palace as we continue our investigation."
ramesses did not look toward his children.
he simply turned away from them all, dismissal set in the heft of his shoulders. pharaoh would remain here until the stars faded beneath sunrise.

Siptah had no words, only a dead stare as he stood between his sisters. He wished he had spent more time with Satsu, instead of wandering the palace. Perhaps it he had been with her this time, she would still be alive. But, he had been with Ramesses. He had been learning how to be a better Prince. Satsu's life wasn't worth that.

Tears pricked at his eyes, but be bit them back, dropping his head mournfully. He had to grit his teeth and count internally to keep himself from shedding his tears. After many long moments, he looked back to his father, expression stoic, face set into a deep frown. He would weep for his mother later.

qiao remained in proper posture as ramesses called each of them to his court.

her gaze flitted from the body covered in fur to each of her compatriots - and vowed silently to no longer eat anything which she had not sourced herself.

when her name was called upon, qiao stepped forward and received her order. she dipped her head in confirmation and then made her leave: she would collect little wares from her room and then head east to mereo.

Being new to the palace of the mesa, Sokha had never been formally introduced to their Queen. 

There was no personal loss, but only grievance for those who had been close at heart.

Paying a silent respect, the small woman laid upon the ground and set her muzzle down flat, ears flat.

It was there that she lay, willing for the woman's spirit to leave them peacefully and watch over those it left behind.

she was looked at last, a simmering gaze.

her stomach sunk. she yearned to follow, but wouldn't that look all the more questionable? instead she tightened her lips, thin and wary of those around her.

she had been meant to become an extension of akashingo, but how could she leave now? how could she forge plans in purring tones to the pharaoh when the woman of his heart had been so suddenly dropped from this plane of existence?

murder.

she only briefly let her gaze linger on the pharaoh's departing form before she too split from the grave gathering.

she was still a mazoi, after all.

Jawahir arrives and slips in among the rest, pausing only when the Pharaoh's eye aligns with their own, to hold that look and then to bow their head.

No ounce of emotion plays upon their face; no tremulous sorrow, no glee harbored either for the demise of the queen. Jawahir appears stricken by their stoicism.

The hemet is given a task of which Jawahir is supremely jealous - to be away from this place at such a time, and with such importance levied upon their shoulders! This too is contained.

The jewel's thoughts are with Ramesses, their dark eyes following his exit. Left behind is the boy, Siptah, to whom Jawahir spares only one brief but barbed look, before attending to their duties in silence.

he'd heard that first mournful vail, of course, what he later realised was the pharaoh's cry when he found his dead beloved. it chilled him to the bone, that sound, and roused the little man early in the morning, to spend the day anxious and on the brink of whining as whispers and shouts and cries carried throughout the impenetrable tower.

it was supposed to be impenetrable.

come nightfall, he ascended with the rest to the caprock, feeling as if his dogtag made too mirthful sounds for the horrid occasion, and walked oddly to null the noise.

when he first saw the queen, he thought the bundle of meat and fur. when he realised his mistake, he gasped and whined like a child.

shamed, he took his place by the nobles, by foreigner @Lilitu, newcomer @Charles, and @Maegi of concerning wellbeing.

... it was supposed to be impenetrable.

the pharaoh's announcement confirmed the worst of the rumours. his gaze upon the attendees felt as if focused squarely upon gucci. the chihuahua looked straight ahead, in a perfect free stack, albeit his whites flashed with focus to avoid staring at the corpse.

talk of public grieving, gifts for the dead, call for soldiers... the toy breed visibly trembled.

when all was said and done, gucci looked to the trio of puppies. motherless! they did not deserve a tragedy like that, not so young and inexperienced! 

his head turned away from them, and he stood still and statuesque - until he saw one of the mazoi [@Sokha] leaving. 

he approached the woman and, in a little voice, apologising profusely for the inconvenience, asked her to accompany him to his room, just this once.

the tower was supposed to be impenetrable.

Akhtar was silent.

Calmly, he tucked charms and herbs into the wrappings. He did not speak, did not look up from his godly assigned task.

But, perhaps, a part of him, ugly in its face and name, was laughing. This thing that had happened, these people deserved. He swatted away the thoughts, recognizing their bloody tinge. It was the part of him that seethed, that burned even now, to tell them. Tell them he was a prince, that his mother and father had loved him more than life itself, and they, their gods and their priests and their sickly colored kings, had taken everything from him.

He had been a boy. Just a child. His eyes canted to the heir.

As young as him. At least the boy kept a father, though Akhtar was not certain how lucky it was that the father was Ramesses. His eyes came back to the wrapped form of the queen. He bowed his head to murmur a final prayer, before he stepped away, adjusting his stole.

He shot a final glance over his shoulder.

His eyes, deep brown, flashed in the light.

Then, he was gone, ducking into the bowels of the mesa.

Mother was gone. It was hard to comprehend it all. One day she was here and the next she wasn't. The princess didn't think it was fair. She wondered what she was to do now. But maybe it was okay that she didn't know because she was so tired. All she wanted to do was sleep and forget. She didn't want to be around the pack, she only wanted to be alone.

Her father would offer no comfort or support, something that would leave a wound no doubt. But now, she couldn't be bothered to be angry with him. 

The pharaoh gave orders, but she didn't hear the words, she only stared blankly at her mother's lifeless form. 

When he finished speaking, she could no longer bear to be there. Ashikaga would turn on delicate paws and sluggishly make her way to the one place she knew she could be alone. When she made it to her quarters, she would pass out in her bed of furs and stay there for days, refusing to speak and refusing any food brought to her.

Charles did not linger long. Perhaps it could be construed as a sign of disrespect that he left halfway through Ramesses' words, but he could not stay. The sight, the smell, the thought that someone was dead — he preferred not to linger on it too long. The coywolf did not look at anyone as he left, casting his eyes to the ground and holding his tail tucked close to his hind legs. He hoped that no one would notice him, but he was afraid — and perhaps a little thrilled — that Ramesses would, considering Charles left midway through the words of mourning for his own wife.

His actions were a part of his drive to do bad things but an even bigger part of his inability to deal with death. Thoughts of Leta and Osiris passed and he would not have them. As he heard the words — ...the eye of Osiris... — Charles halted in his tracks momentarily, but then he quickened his pace and fled the scene, back to his room of luxury where he could push his head into the sand and pretend that none of this had ever happened. He didn't even know the woman, so it would be easy enough to do if everyone would just leave him alone.

She should have dreaded this upon hearing Satsu's true name. Sobek-Neferu.

Because now, like Maegi's son, the queen lay still and cold upon the open ground.

She sat with head bowed beside the other nobles, unable to bring her eyes to the corpse. Murder. This place, which had seemed like such a haven, had been defiled. And to take such a woman. . .!

Any of them could be next. Even her.

Perhaps it should be.

"Not yet, Maegi."