Lion Head Mesa brass
Muat-riya
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set after this

dawn was starting to pale the horizon when tavina made her way back to ramesses.

he was as she had left him: pacing. bloodshot. unwashed.

the sesh managed not to wrinkle her nose as she bowed. "the mazoi carries your children, great one. she is early in her pregnancy. i have instructed her to rest and to not expect you before the mourning period is over."
Ghost
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ramesses stopped moving when tavina entered the room. 
her pronouncement should have brought joy. instead it was accompanied only by resignation.
he grunted, pawing idly at the remains of a meal he had barely touched. "very good," he rasped in a voice gone hoarse with his endless weeping.
"you do not need to tell her that there will be no marriage unless she proves she can bear me a son." cruelty, though ramesses would rather call it pragmatism.
Muat-riya
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the sesh kept herself immovable. "i was under the impression that you would make these plans after the seventy days are complete, great one." tavina paused. "those in akashingo will talk. your decree might be the only thing that stops this."

but she would not press. she looked at the food, then at the pharaoh. he grew worse each day. it was not befitting their status as royal epicenter of the flatlands. and it did nothing for his ambitions of expansion.

"i recommend the neb gucci to your court. his words may be of comfort to you, great one. you should not be alone."

pharaoh did not respond.

"have you recently been to the wellspring?" tavina asked. when there was again no answer, she went on. "i suspect that the mazoi will deliver in the summertime." anything to bring him back from this slow-falling precipice.
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"then i will marry her in the autumn," ramesses rejoined crisply, showing a sliver of his former self, "and not without proof that the marriage will be fruitful." siptah had been born his heir and declared this before akashingo. but a kingdom did not place all its hopes in a single son still too young to protect himself.
he finally slumped down upon the floor, leaning back against the foot of his throne. his lazuli eyes were empty.
"i truly loved her, tavina. i go to her every day," his voice broke, "and it still seems so very unreal that she is gone."
ramesses' heart hardened.
he leapt up. "when i find who has done this, i will have them flayed while alive. they will be hung outside akashingo upon stakes and be fed water each day to prolong their life. and at the top of each hour, i shall order that their wounds be filled with new piss, and she will hear their screams in the World of the Dead, but there they will be as a sweet song to her."
he was panting, trembling with the force of his anger.
Muat-riya
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tavina felt that none of this belonged in the description of her job.

but then again, here she was before dawn, a messenger.

she listened, unsurprised by the depths of his rage, and when at last he sat down, tavina too lowered to her haunches.

"attend me, great one." 

pharaoh's exhausted gaze shot to her in intrigue and indignation.

"you must lead akashingo even through this. the servants barely see you. the mazoi do not. your priest and priestess do not. and your children do not. they must all see you. they must all see your strength and what it means to grieve a queen, and to avenge her. you need to get up. you need to bathe and eat and gather your court. lead us."
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several times he felt his face contort in anger, but in the end ramesses was left wanting for it. he felt as though he were a discarded skin lying upon a dirty midden. the scent of his body was an assault upon his own nostrils. he felt the good stone of the mesa behind his head and saw that akashingo still stood.
she was correct. he would not say it aloud. Amun turned His face toward the sesh.
Thoth walks with that one.
a long beak clacked in agreement.
ramesses snorted a breath through his nostrils but he did climb to his feet to face her. for a long moment he only stared into the purpled stare of the doctor. "do not make it a habit to lose your tongue," he told her, but the order lacked any briskness.
satsu. her face burned in his mind.
Muat-riya
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tavina bowed her head. but internally she knew the struggle had been won. her gambit had not been so bold after all.

"you sent a messenger to mereo. they will be here any day i expect. i will ask the servants to clean this throne room. send them to me today, great one."

ramesses nodded. he cut around her, pushing past, and was gone, presumably to the wellspring.

tavina breathed a sigh when he was gone, though not so deeply. the air was fetid.