Northstar Vale loom

Tamar nodded, keeping her silence until she pulled away. She said that she was tired.

Arsenio watched her, expression soft. She carried so much. The familiar burning hatred for the Pharaoh ate – chunk by chunk – at his insides. Their world would be better when that man was dead. All of the Fellahin and Mazoi of Akashingo would prosper without their mad ruler. He had always been certain of this.

Go and rest. I will send Antigone with food. I am sure he would be pleased to keep you company, he said, stepping forward to kiss her snout. One last loving look into her eyes and Arsenio departed. His mind buzzed with their conversation.