Lion Head Mesa plumes

ah: there it was. ramesses observed satsu with a newly affectionate amusement, growing and tendriling into a solemn want that was quite disconnected from his usual lasciviousness.
"i treasure you, satsu," he said at last. the lapis eyes searched her face. was it drink that loosened his tongue or the look of her features?
"not in the way of a pet or a servant," he hastened on, readjusting his willowy limbs. "i am simply grateful to have even one true equal." ramesses had never shown gratitude a day in his life. the feeling was unfamiliar.
to quiet himself he did the same. another berry bursting below his tongue.