Lion Head Mesa thirtieth

no posting order! <3

"find the woman @Zharille. instruct her that she must return for another audience before akashingo's choice is rendered."

having informed the queen that the former lady of the lake was a wild sort, words half-formed but in no way unable to speak on her own behalf, senmut suggested that he and @Toula wait out of doors for her, in the open air throne room, he alone and she with her retinue.

here he stood beside the throne which he left for the Divine Consort to the Gods, his green eyes watchful for the medjay bayek who had gone to bring the lake dweller.

Zharille arrived without fanfare. Leaf-litter netted in her furs, stinking of earth and brambles from where she had spent the night; but the dust of the mesa had begun to penetrate that scent as she traveled, too. Her pace was one of impatience; she stomped after the one who came to gather her, sullen and snapping at their heel if they did not keep pace.

When she came to see the little man, she grunted.

with this information in mind, Toula considered how best to communicate with the woman. and by the time she arrived, this way arrived. when Zharille arrived, the girlqueen stood tall as the fellahin introduced who stood before the Lake woman.
perhaps one of the only reasons Toula was (or at least appeared) unruffled by such a woman was due to being given, all of her life, cause to never feel fear—but it was more than that. 
her appraisal was open, and perhaps obvious. she could certainly see, at least, how a woman such as she had ruled before. such strength stood before her! and no doubt she knew it! 
Khaba keeps your children from you, Toula spoke what she knew, what had been told to her and how she herself understood it. why? Toula wanted to be sure she was not taking these cubs from one evil and bringing them to another! 
the woman was simple, Senmut had all but said—Toula did not think her capable of lying, at least not well.

senmut was silent. zharille must speak herself.

but his eyes moved upon the lake woman with encouragement.

The man would not speak for her.

The little one, who might've only been a child, wanted answers! Zharille looked to the man first, unsure, finding the situation very strange. She did not like having to wait and she did not like the spectacle of all this; why should she explain things to this girl?

But the man had an expression on his face which bade she try.

Zharille looked to the girl then with obvious discomfort.

Zharille left them. Khaba... calls them his. They could've been; they probably were, biologically, but that was a complicated thing that Zharille didn't care about. He take. He take children, he take home. Gave him home, shared children. Now, Khaba take all.

She couldn't say why he did these things in any great detail. She couldn't explain that it had been right at the time, because she had abandoned them all.