Little thrones

Bats eyelashes at @Khaemwaset and or @Merneith ?!

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He accompanies the children. Sometimes Rashepses lost him during the day in favor of watching the little crowns as they grew. For his own children were still growing and were not yet shields to their young godlings.

Perhaps it is time they soon begin. They are no longer whelps. For now, it is him and Khusobek in cycling.

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 “Mesen-ka!” Neith comes gliding up over a dune, bent-reed pouch beating against her side. Since his return to Akashingo, her father’s guard had become more of an uncle-figure to the princess than anything else, and she yearns for his light humor during these unknown times.

 Breathless, she grins up into the firestone eyes with a little wag to the blonde tail. “I require your assistance this morning, please. That is, if you are not already busy with my father’s occupations.”

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"Princess Niece!" A cordial bow lowers his entire body for just a moment, and when it rises, it is to allow all attention to arrive on the little god of the golden sands. She's clearly on a mission!

No other action matters now. Standing high, the newly donned princessguard juts a fierce eye over the girls shoulder for a vicious rogue. It is gone as quick as it comes. "It appears I am miraculously freed of duty and have never known a clearer day in this very moment." That lopsided smile scrunches an eye. Quietly, a paw lifted, and slyly? "Is it a boy? I did not think this day would come so soon! Rest assured, I will handle it quickly."

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 Inside her chest beats her mother’s heart, but it is father’s eyes that watch the guardsman bow; a deeply ingrained pleasure at seeing the top of his grand head at her feet.

 Neith peals into laughter, “nothing like that, though I do not doubt that you could— and would— uncle! It is a much more simple task. I need help reaching acacia twines for my amulets— see?” The girl raises her chin to show Mesen-ka the little turquoise scarab worn at her throat. “They are good luck charms, imbued with Iset’s favor for those in mourning.”

 She tries not to think of Charmion.

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With closed eyes and a softly nodding head to her acknowledgment of his raised hand to the devil of men, the uncle is proud of Merneith's accomplishment today. The understanding that Mesen-ka obliterated boys. There were gruff hums of agreement. 

"Ahhhh! I see!" His smile returns at her laughter! Between only them, and no onlooking boys, his smile had remained behind his teeth all along. See, yes, he examined the amulet, momentarily.

"That is a beautiful adornment. I see your vision, little niece. They will be perfect on you, and you will need every bit of luck in your journey. Lead the way and I will help you with your task today. Perhaps you could help me fancy up mine when we are done?" He did not need to lift his neck so high for her to see upon his throat the gold beaded carnelian.

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 “They are not all for me, uncle!” The amiirad can’t help it— she falls into easy laughter, the cure to a monosyllabic ailment she must have contracted somewhere in this new land. “I want them to inspire hope. This place can be a fresh beginning for all of us,” as mother and father had told it. “Iset built her love again. I believe we can find love again, as she did.”

 The girl winds her way into the plots of green that populate the lagoon, glancing warmly to the kingsguard as they walk. “I will gladly adorn your amulet.” Suddenly Neith's expression softens. “Do you miss her— your wife?”

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They walk a green trail. "In pieces," he nods. There were parts of Zharille less than savory on the tongue, and others that were a new light blooming outside that of the religion he's followed into death. A formed respect for that beyond the dunes. 

​​​​​​"I miss most her simplicity! And she was a tough woman– I questioned if it was I who was raised a soldier or her!" For the warpath he's followed and the bloodshed spilled, nothing compared to being face to face with a woman who knew what she wanted. Mesen-ka had to win that part of her over. What he doesn't miss, he bites tongue.

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 Merneith titters, loving most Mesen-ka’s lively spirit. Royalty demanded a solemn part from the girl that was engendered far earlier than others her own age. Often she craved for this— her uncle’s simple joy.

 “I would have liked to have met her. Perhaps, one day, I will,” the princess grins, then with a bit more mischievous, “she sounds as though she lives on in your son.” Neith had spent no time with @Ibrahim since their arrival, but she had the puphood bite-marks to prove it.

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