Golden Glade One summer day

an offering. how very generous of nyra, ramesses thought with a rare bit of charity. he knew her strength, and knew in his marrow he would be easily snapped in such jaws. Sobek, perhaps, had given the lotus-furred one His blessing.
for whatever reason, ramesses would never know, but he was not to question the gods.
"if he stays near, perhaps i might pull that pledge from him all the same," he grinned, warming to the hunt.
"you have the teeth of a lion, nyra," he commented dryly, with more intimacy than he was allowed, though his silver tongue felt he knew its way through the steps of flattery. "i have no such weapons. only a sword."
a loud and bawdish laugh, now, the royal humour of a man who had never forgotten he was pharaoh.