Luneshale Pass [aaf] the weight of history

note: object noted is no longer intricate gold-made cuff! but something gifted, temporarily "wearable"

there was scarcely time to rest for a Queen, but the truth of it was that she had more than enough of it! but now, her focus was for @Ashikaga—and it remained such, up until the moment one struck upon the opportunity of her gemstone gaze turning to again catch that of the Sphinx whose band she wore around one ladylike ankle. reclined before him, in the position of a sphinx herself, Toula crosses one demurely over the other for him to behold, the smile upon her lips true and real and for him, then!
duty had kept her away, and then the preparing for this feast. and now she would have no more obstacles; what use was being a Queen, if she could not at least do this one thing for herself then? she looked to @Zaahira, who was like a shadow to her; she entrusted none more than her to the task of, protect her, which equally meant, protect me!
she trusted Ashikaga. but she was aware that she should not. and for all of her love, she could not afford to be a fool. not when the words of her father rang like a bell in her ear. war, to claim the Pharaoh's seat. and perhaps the words were not meant for her, but for Ashikaga. perhaps the words were premonition. dreams were strange, and the Gods were stranger still in the ways that They saw things done.
once more she turned to @Rashepses. she trusted @Senmut with Ashikaga, as well, now too. the Prince was closer now, and again their eyes met—a match striking against stone, the friction bringing the brilliance of a small flame. but this small flame could grow, become fire that could catch anything—fire that eventually could burn the world.
this then little flame was theirs to carry, to grow. his voice was as she had imagined, and such was indescribable to a wolf that had never seen silk drag over coarse sand. smooth, deep—divine. like herself, he was of a particular pedigree—born and bred a God. Toula stood slowly, dipping her own head a measure in polite response. again that small smile, for him. she thrilled at his first spoken words to her. the way in which he said, My Queen.
Toula had never known such a feeling; it lingered warmly in her belly. but in not understanding it, there was no shame to be felt, not then. to you as well, my Sphinx, and, in seeing his invitation, she swept gracefully from her dais in graceful descent and she hummed, please, rise. as it so happens, I quite enjoy dancing, with a sway of her tail as she led them to the would-be dancefloor. she pauses before him, while the fellahin take to a new melody.
would he know the steps? it was a common song, one where the man would take the lead; Toula observed him with bright eyes, prepared to follow him step for step in this dance.

In the mind of every prince was the hard truth of Pharaoh: Gods die young. While he was here, Rashepses wanted to live.

And so he was prepared to lead his Queen step for step in this dance and into this courtship. He let her whirl away from him while he traced two steps back to catch her.  Around him she revolved and his eyes drank in her face: every hair, every lift of lip as she smiled, every tilt of her narrow chin. In this closeness they beheld eachother so intensely. The fellahin songs waned. In his ears it was Toula and she sang with a voice surpassing desire to summon him alone.

Mid-step, he changed the dance. While the others spun, he drew her against him, feeling the heat of her back press into his chest.

“Let me know you,” he murmured from behind into her ear and reached to bring a golden arm to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the wrist that wore him.

there was delight in her at his skill, and his well practiced step. they moved well together—all would see it. and he might well have heard her singing at its merriest parts; Toula was absorbed by it, by this moment! so many around them, but the flame burned too bright between them for her to see any but the one before her very clearly. 
around her he now revolved—and then, he was changing it! instinct, to follow him then. Toula felt comfortable then, safe between those strong arms; and she permitted him the moment to kiss worshipfully at her ankle. 
and then she swept away, spinning prettily in a small semi-circle as she took control of herself once more. it was a wonder she could move at all; her knees felt terribly weak! she drew nearer again, dancing in a tighter circle around him then—as the dance demanded.
only if I might know you, not for the competition of it, no—the words said for no other reason than for him to know he was not alone in this wish, and that she too wanted to learn him as desperately as he wished to know her. 
this all felt like a dream; she laughed gayly as the pulse of the song quickened. she had waited long to lay her eyes upon him, and she could not say she was at all disappointed!

Toula spun gracefully away. His eyes above a widening smile burned. She taunted him. She smelled so sweet. He wanted more. Who was she?

He rejoined the steps, swaying again in proper rhythm with the other skirting pairs until the dance asked them to entwine.

“I am your's to know. All of me,” he urged into the smooth side of her elegant neck. “Meet me,” He breathed as again she was taken from him. Out in the crowd eyes glittered. All were upon her.

she believed him. and perhaps she should not—but she did! certainly in this. they were close again, and then apart—and then his lips were delightfully near to her neck, his breath warm and causing her to laugh lightly as she sashayed away. 
meet me, he said. Toula, breathless, asked when next he was close enough to hear: when? she twirled away as the steps would have her do, and then as she next stepped alongside him, she asked, where? 
the people of Akashingo were alive around them, and she never felt so much so in her own life as then! and her own eyes found it too difficult to stray from the Sphinx then. this moment, at least, was their own.

Here. Now. A bid by hungry blood that for long weeks apart had ached for her, and now to be stoked with a first, fleeting touch… He could feel the fever in her arms and also in the way in which she spoke. She was so alive, every part of her an inverse of the inching mundanity towards death. It was the power of the Goddess, but also that of a woman named Toula.

“Tomorrow night,” his whisper grazed her cheek and he pivoted. She is turned away and he chases her back. “A whistle outside your chamber,” he laughed at the absurdity and spun her. “Come away with me, Toula. Alone.” Her name on his tongue, unescorted by titles was forbidden and heated; intimate.

The song ended. The partners came to stop. There were cheers rooting up from the crowd. He faced her in prophetic silence. Then with all grace and apt benevolence, he kissed lightly the tip of her pale paw, bowing deep.

she was giddy, and for a moment, she let herself be as part of her truly was—just a girl. the other part moved as instructed, looking every bit the Queen she had been born and then brought up to be. she was chaste, and the moments he drew so close she might burn she danced away even as that same girlish part of her wanted to lean in, wanted to burn with him—
and in the pit of her belly, she did! she listened to him, eyes unable to part from him except for when they spun. you know I can make no promises, she whispered in turn, but there was a look in her eyes—a promise to try! but she drew nearer during their dance and said, I will wait to hear your call, 
how very alive she felt! how she already looked forward to the next evening, even while being in his company then! his name was on her lips, but the music quieted. she let it linger hotly on her tongue, warmed by this private thing too. the smile was impossible to be rid of, and it remained as her lips parted to speak after his genteel gesture: you dance quite well, my Sphinx, she commended, allowing him to then escort her back to her place on the dais. her steps were slow and elegant, the rhythm of the dance still in her ears and in her blood. who was it, that taught you? she asked with appropriate interest, her coolwater gaze  turning to meet his flametouched one.

One evening beneath only the eyes of gods and their own, where he might talk with Toula, the woman, as Raemka, the man. Even now he soaked in the splendor of his birth and the ceremony that came with the title of Sphinx; gloating in the glow of his pale Queen’s amity. But he would not know her sincerity and she would not see his, not in the hundred eyes that hungered for her or in those that prayed he met a swift end. In every step he felt those stares even as his own rounded over the gentle curvature of Toula’s back in her glide.

“You flatter, my Queen. Would you believe,” his whisper was low as the crowd broke for them, “this was my first time dancing the man’s part? Youngest of three brothers: I always drew the short stick, if given one at all,” he glossed with a muted laugh, eyes running over the edge of her glimmering cheeks.

Rashepses brought his nose down to the crest of her ear, “I’ve never seen another move like you. You saw it, didn't you?"

in the manner of one Royal gently linking arms with another did they two then proceed through the crowd that parted for them. he, gentlemanly, keeping his arms to a space that could invite no scandal—even as she could feel the teasing drum of hungry fingers. tiny fires spread where they made contact, innocent though it was! 
distracting! she was nearly breathless in her rejoinder to him, but kept her composure somehow. the eyes, at least, were grounding—even when she felt as though she might very well begin to float! but what he revealed truly was a shock, at least for the skill that he had demonstrated. I can see that it only benefited you—I now imagine you as the best dancer of all, among them! you understand the duality of it all. you do not seek to overwhelm or undermine, so multi-faceted, these words! and her gaze turned toward him, to see if she had the right of it—of him. 
and then he was complimenting her in turn, and Toula found herself smiling. her cheeks felt flushed, and her heart fluttered. it? she gently asked, wanting to be sure she knew his meaning! wanting him to say more!

She kindled, the whole of her, a licking flame, and he knew he was privileged as the one to look upon her, to be in reception of her mouth as it curved. He held out an arm and aided her seat, and only when she was reclined did he tilt his lips to her ear.

“The stares,” and it would be so easy to put his lips there. But for her honor he only ever hovered, allowing instead his eyes to fold over every place she soon would feel his kiss. He would teach her, as he would be taught. They would learn from eachother.

“No mortal man can resist you, Toula, Queen of the Red Serpent. No God, either.”