The announcement of Setemhotep’s full titles rang through the chamber like a formal declaration of war.

Satakhetem did not rise immediately. She remained reclined upon the obsidian plinth, draped in luxurious black furs, her long limbs arranged with predatory elegance. Only when the High Priest was fully announced did her cold sapphire eyes lift toward the doorway, regarding him with glacial disdain.

She let the silence stretch for several heartbeats before speaking.

The Greatest of Seers deigns to visit my humble prison. Her voice was smooth, cool, and laced with mocking courtesy. How generous of you, Hotep. I had not expected the man who called me blasphemous before the entire court to seek my company so soon.

Satakhetem finally rose with fluid, regal grace. The molten gold threading her pewter coat caught the low light as she stepped down from the plinth, towering over the priest with imperious poise. Her gaze flicked briefly to the emerging Triple Sun upon the wall before returning to him.

A faint, cold smile touched her lips.

But you did not come here simply to scold me again. So speak, priest. What does the voice of Ra wish to say to Toula’s daughter in private? Have you come to lecture me on obedience... or have you finally begun to see the fracture I warned you all about?