he is not here. but he has come back.
khaemwaset was not a man who invaded the rooms of those below him. it was not his way to be so intrusively possessive, and that was why these thoughts of jealousy and threat had been so wrathful for him to bear these weeks.
Horus stood silhouetted by the lintels, but he did not enter. something about the unused and austere space made him think more coldly of senmut, who was not with his own wife, but following in the wake of the satriyan queen.
holding a fan, even.
he has become a priest again, or demoted himself to fellahin, i do not know. khaemwaset studied aiesha, the interplay of senmut's coloration and senmut's emerald eyes, the scarlet against the sunlit hue of new leaves.
senmut had become confusing and his actions embarassed pharaoh, who counted the man among his mentors.
you have been away, and here he straightened, conveying that he and she moved on from her father. how were your travels? she had not been alone, and her coat alone carried a half-dozen fragrant scents, both familiar and not.
but khaemwaset did not move from his place at the door.