Lia. He answered, testing the syllables. Then dipped his head appreciatively, eyes warm. Thank you. There is much I am still learning. It brought to mind a favorite proverb, one which had in his life before often offered comfort when presented with setbacks and difficulties:

Do not be proud on account of your knowledge,
but discuss with the ignorant as with the wise.
The limits of art cannot be delivered;
there is no artist whose talent is fulfilled.

The work of a sesh was an art unto itself. To accept new knowledge was to be humbled, and this came with the reassurance that he had not blinded himself to the opportunity for growth. Rather than embarrassment at the foreign sound of her name on his lips, or frustration at her unfamiliarity with Pharaoh’s nature, he felt true gratitude. Curiosity, even.

They are. Pharaoh is Delegate upon the throne of Geb, gilded voice of the gods upon the earth. Our Queen, daughter of the same pure blood. So it had been for ages beyond counting, Ra acting through his chosen each generation. Pharaoh was begotten from Pharaohs, and also the trueborn child of Ra.

I mend mortals. But sometimes they are afflicted by evil spirits, and these I can banish. My people leave offerings to our dead, so their souls have nourishment. If cared for, ancestors will heed our prayers and intercede on our behalf. But that is not the work of a sesh. Funeral rites were the art of priests. He was no longer a priest.

Banishing the twist in his gut, he pricked his ears curiously, Do you have knowledge of such things? The face she was making wasn’t… exactly what he would call curiosity. But there was some form of intensity to it. He politely did not laugh.