Lion Head Mesa You're a classic, like a little black dress

When Melody had recovered herself enough to leave her room, she went to the map Senmut had showed her. Khusobek's scent was still heavy on her, and she groomed her fur here and there as she walked, self-conscious every time she noticed it. If anyone else noticed, surely they would know.

She thought that maybe she would have a bath later — but for now, she wanted to look at the map of stars. The Hemet settled before it, thinking for perhaps the hundredth time about what it must have been like to create it. Had Senmut done it alone? She would have to ask him sometime.

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Khusobek wants to be dominated.

And by this delicate girl. A narrative told in the scents that trace along her ruff and fill the room with sex.

Eset’s look is a knowing one that eyes her. She is a beauty, isn’t she? Adorned in the same shades of gilded radiance that take breath from her lungs whenever her Queen enters the room.

“Hello my Lady,” she will greet, “would you like some company?”

This time it was a feminine voice that broke through her thoughts. Melody startled a little, looking up with green eyes turned wide. One of the Fellahin; beautiful, but coyote. She flushed as she registered the knowing look cast over her; it took a moment for her to remember how to speak, how to breathe.

Yeah. Sure, Melody mumbled past her discomfort, shifting. I'm Melody. Hemet. She offered after a moment, then gestured to the map. Just um, studying. Sort of. She could hardly focus, if she was honest with herself.

She didn't think she wanted to learn this after all. She wanted to... create something. Something beautiful. Melody studied the painted wall thoughtfully.

The girl flushes.

It is an acknowledgment of what Eset knows. And now she does.

The coywolf smiles. “I am pleased to meet you, Melody the hemet. I am Eset the fellahin,” that much is likely clear in what her wolven features lack, but she will mirror the hemet’s way of introduction.

Melody gestures towards the chart and she draws nearer to stand beside the girl and better observe what it is she refers to. A carved illustration in a series of dots and marks that connect them into outlines of vague shapes. She has never seen a thing like it, and does not know what it is she is looking at.

“Your study looks quite important,” she remarks.

Her eyes followed the servant as she moved, studying her openly. Melody's shyness started to fade after a moment; why should she be ashamed? She thought again of how, for just a little while, she had held some kind of power over the smirking, cold-eyed guard. Only what he had insisted she take, but even now she felt the thrill of it.

It will be, She said softly, her gaze returning to the map of stars. What do you know about the stars, Eset? Melody kept her focus carefully on its intricacies, but she was aware of Eset's nearness and the appeal of her slender features.

“That they are in the sky,” she answers.

She has no formal education. Her mother taught her about the Gods, how to adapt to any situation and carry herself graciously. Her master taught her how to serve. Beyond that, areas of study like astronomy, politics and map-making were reserved for the noble classes. She supposes she might feel some level of embarrassment about that, particularly in front of this polished young hemet who strikes her as quite accomplished. But there had been no reason to educate a serf.

It had not stopped Eset from wanting to learn and she attempted to do so on her own by being observant. Looking at the work now and with a reference given by Melody, she supposes it must be a chart of sorts of the stars above them.

Her eyes move over the focused girl, her gold pelt flicking in the light like stardust itself.

  “Do you know of their significance?” She will ask earnestly.

I know that by studying them, you can learn more about the gods, Melody's eyes stayed on the map as she spoke. It seemed like such a monumental task. And it was hers, given to her by Senmut; what could she do except try?

And there are patterns, see? She pointed them out briefly. There's an order to it. Everything has a place. Melody recalled Pharaoh as she said it, recalled that first day outside the palace. Maybe this was what she was meant for. Maybe this was the higher purpose Makono had seen for her.

With Melody’s wisdom she begins to trace the shapes. Meaningless points become the vertices between designs, there’s the night sky like darkened chaos and then the stars created by Gods, giving light and beauty with their patterns. An order. Ma’at.

She squints. Maybe one looks like Osiris- though she could not be certain.

“Is each shape represented by a God?” She wonders, questioning eyes returning to the hemet.