Lion Head Mesa twentieth

Toula came next.
she still wore the colors of grieving. the halls echoed with the cries of those who had loved Ramessess... as Pharaoh, and as father! even still Toula was unaware of his wrongs, either by order or perhaps desire by even the fellahin to keep this thing away from her, for as long as they could.
she swept into the room, her own kohl-limned eyes rich with the wellspring of her heart. Toula wondered if she would ever run out of tears, but at the sight of divine Makono she blinked them away. blinked them away even while swallowing a sob—it had been their father in that place, pale and kingly and divine too! but Makono suited it; he would have been proud, to see her there, she thought. the room smelt sweet, and soothed her.
and so she drew near the circle, as close to Pharaoh as she was allowed—unaware of her own trial to come! she would do as bid, sweeping in an elegant bow before her divine sister, rubbing cheek gently to foreleg (her nose brushing against a lovely dried flower). yes, she swallowed her sadness, but as she rose she let out a breath of happiness as she once more beheld Makono.
pride in her own eyes, as she looked to her!