Lion Head Mesa [m] signet

When he drew her from the bath, she followed doe-eyed and accepting.
It was her duty to please him; this is what she had been born to, trained for, and there would be no denying it, no avoiding it. Nazli thought that her moment was coming as soon as he began to touch her again - but it was with the care of a father rather than the subtle wants of a lover, and then they locked gazes.
It would be her choice. It would happen but by her own timeline, her own desire. So the god decreed! It went against what Nazli anticipated and yet she was glad, and humbled further, and even awed by a new, strengthened respect for her pharaoh.
He became like dripping marble and Nazli was at a loss for what to do next. Clearly he meant to dismiss her, but - she could not leave him in such a state. As he became marble, she bowed her head and gathered furs for drying him, and worked, until Ramesses was perfect. The dots of water darkened the floor beneath him.
With some thought she lingered, arranging things, tidying, and then stopped. Her eyes lingered on the stone. You could, if you wanted. If that was your desire. They both knew that. She did not want to go against his wishes, or ignore the charity he bestowed by giving her the choice: but what if this was her choice?
I could stay with you now.