Lion Head Mesa Whoever lets himself be led by the heart will never lose his way.

Thutmose could not help but think more on his fascination of the fellahin, @Eset. 

He is drawn to her chambers, perhaps to be so selfish as to request she walk the mesa with him. 

But he is not so bold as to enter her space of privacy. From the door, he calls. And if she does not answer, he will leave her in peace. Her days seem quite filled. The prince would not be offended to know she is taking much needed rest.

She would never have presented herself like this in public.

If she had expected his call or had heard his coming footfalls, she would have swept away the scraps of half-formed thoughts that had taken the shape of rudimentary drawings on papyrus strewn about her floors to smooth out her fur and stand poised in greeting.

But with his sudden voice- a leap of heart as she is bent over a sketch, her eyes shooting to the archway of her own modest room to find the luminous silhouette of Thutmose. Her mouth parts but it is for no words. She is speechless.

No one has ever sought her here before.

Quickly she takes to her knees before him, bowing her head, “My Prince!” is her startled exclaim.

Her suddenness surprises him, but he has come unannounced. Such a reaction could only be expected.

At ease. He hums, chuckling at his own use of familiar terminology. It was meant as a friendly way to say "you need not stand on ceremony". But even if he had said such a thing, she likely would have continued to anyway.

Have I come at a poor time?

“No- not at all,” the fellahin rises slowly, eyes tracing now up to his.

She is always at pains to avoid any appearance of incompetence, and moves swiftly to control her surprise, assuming the same compliant mien whereupon she may restore the wits that were already shaken upon her last conversation with the man.

She closes the space between them, lips finding their pleasant shape, “How may I serve you, Prince Thutmose?”

Good. He thought in reply, but did not voice it.

Walk with me? The offer he had been eager to give, tail swaying slowly behind him in hopes that she might accept.

She inclines her head, waiting first for the Sphinx to turn before stepping in beside him, struck by his height and the width of his shoulders in so narrow a space as the servant quarters. As they ascend the tapering passageways and out into the main concourse she settles her nerves with a look to his dignified profile.

“Have you been enjoying the Rose Poinciana, my Lord?” She asks of the red blooms which had been plucked off the mesa and gathered into arrangements for the Prince’s bedside.

Acceptance. He is pleased, readily taking the lead as she falls in step beside him. 

On through the halls, and outward toward the open mesa their path will lead. But he moves slow, intent upon enjoying the stroll—along with the hope she does as well, of course.

I have. The tune of her voice is so soft. Sweet, like honey. Gracious, like the purest of beings. He can't help but lighten his own voice, a drastic change from its usual baritone depth. 

They mean a great deal to me. I thank you again for your diligent work in finding them.

“I am pleased to hear it,” she is gratified for the recognition of her attentiveness, and he is generous in sharing his praise with her. “And you will let me know what else I can provide, what I can do to make the mesa feel more like home for you, my Prince.”

The Sphinx trades his militant gait for a leisurely saunter and Eset beside him slows. She allows him to lead her to the crown of the lion with the expanse of the flatland stretching endlessly in every direction before them.

Thutmose’s tenor is silken, another departure from the commander’s tongue that had made requests of her on this very mesa days prior. Deliberate, tender. She will not overlook the novel affection there and wonders if it means he is in pursuit of her tonight.

If something comes to mind, you will be the first to hear it. Assurance, for her favors none more than her in the sense of tending to his wants and needs.

They walk further, side by side. Thutmose is glad for the company. Being able to speak to another with such ease and informality is truly comforting. 

I imagine you are quite close to Akashingo's Queen? Or had he been to bold to assume this connection could be held between ruler and servant? Still new to these particular customs, he desired not to reach too far with his thoughts and presumptions.

“I am,” she assents, shedding the tension of having to play seductor as they round the footpath.

She was composing in her mind the noblest of deeds that must be done to win the Queen’s favor; the selfless, loyal man who would back her rule. She was still deciding what kind of man Thutmose was, what kind of husband he would make her Queen. What kind of sovereign he would make their state.

Eset had outwardly expressed her own tenets that day on the mesa- that the Gods would have a devout Pharaoh.

But the Prince shows himself to be gentle, and he is thoughtful of the fellahin. He is learning of the Gods from Queen Toula herself. She looks to him again with renewed interest, waiting for an elaboration.

She was. Thutmose nodded, glad that his assumptions had not been false.

Knowing how devoted you are, I can imagine your wants of the best for her in all ways. If I am to earn both her trust and sincere affections, I would like to know in what ways I can best dote upon her. If Eset did not know of the ways in which he could do this, who else might! So I ask if you might assist me...? I am learning of Akashingo's ways with quickness, but there is still much I do not know. I wish to go about this the right way. Steady in step, he glances downward, curious to know if she might agree to educate him in the ways of the young Queen Toula.

She is moved by his desires for a proper courtship, to refrain from seizing by force what the kingdom offers. The choice still remains with Toula. She touches his glance with her own- are they Pharaoh’s eyes?

“She is a goddess, but also a girl. She would be moved by tributes and trinkets, but more so by your efforts to know her. Invite her for a walk, as we are now. Or a picnic in an intimate place.” It is companionship her mistress seeks. Eset did not believe Toula would be won over by a garish display if there was no sentiment in it. She was young and thus naive in ways, but her mind and heart were clever.

“I will arrange something, my Prince.”

He took note of each word, nodding along to show he heard. I will keep these things in mind.

More suggestions came. She even offered to make an arrangement. This would be wonderful, thank you. Light refreshments that she enjoys, I think. Perhaps in a place with a memorable view? Is there such a place near the palace, or within?

“I know of one,” she resolves swiftly, for there is scarcely a more winsome view than the serpent at sunset, when its spill of waters shine with molten gold. She would prepare a small supper to be served along the banks, beneath the shade of papyrus beds. A private place the royals could connect- but where Eset herself could attend to their needs and observe carefully his tending to her mistress.

"Extend an invitation to our Queen and it shall be planned, my Prince."

close up here? ^^

She truly knew it all. How could he not be so grateful?

Wonderful. I shall seek her soon. He promised.

Other than these things he spoke of, there was not more he could think to say. For now, they would continue their walk in solace until their return to the palace.