for the present, only Akhet held pharaoh's mind. merneith was busy with her handmaidens, and though they took meals together and walked beneath emerald light cast by low branches, khaemwaset had become accustomed to their separation. it would only make the question of their divine connection more pronounced when it came. for his part, pharaoh was growing into himself not only physically, but in terms of mind as well.
when setemhotep attended, Horus was pulling himself from the nearby stream, limbs deliciously aching from the several laps back and forth he had done to keep himself honed. water rolled down his jetstone pelt; his eyes gleamed gold beneath the cascade of droplets thrown wildly into the air.
figs here. he bit into one at once, sitting down and taking another with relish. on the third he glanced toward his servant-scribe-physician-herald, thinking how skilled the other man to be all these things and yet unobtrusive.
have you seen the Great Royal Wife yet today? asked khaemwaset, his mind upon merneith at all times and pointedly so, now that this new pressure of heirs was added at every turn. have any from jakten visited our camp?