you will have need of a scepter ☥

 rivulets of water fed down into a turquoise basin, and beside this spring was where khaemwaset sparred with khusobek. the captain was no longer maimed; the gods had restored his mind and body, and when he threw the prince to the sand, he was not spared the indications of that great strength.
 at last, bruised and annoyed, the amiir called for a halt to the fighting and was summarily ordered by the captain to bathe, to soak the spar from his hurting body. at morning's light, we will do this again, khusobek had said before bowing himself from the princely presence.
 when khaemwaset had finished, when he had been toweled into jetstone gleaming, when Ra Himself glowed golden over the gilt points, he sought @Rashepses with a solemn expression.
 "Great One," he gave in epithet to the man whose blood was shared between them. "when samirseti came to visit us, you said my sisters would not be given to him." his lips tensed. "does this mean when neith is older, you will give her away to another?" he had been reared by courtcraft; young as he was, khaemwaset understood intrigue and more than a little politics, 
 a breath; his heart ached powerfully, but not with sadness; with anger at the very idea. "because i do not want this to happen, father."

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 Prince Khaemwaset was not accustomed to refusal, nor to keeping the peace against his inclinations. He’d cultivated a cavalier presence since he was a babe. Now Rashepses' most precious creation looked at him, impassioned. At six months old the amiir was already a pundit of the court, helming their politics like a veteran. The father knew himself a sentimental man and would not staunch the glittering pride in his obsidian face.

 “No, kem. Your sister is destined for Amiir Den, as amiirad Satakhetem is destined to be your great royal wife. One day you and your sister will reign here as Pharaoh and Queen.” His mouth bore a smile as he recalled how seamlessly the gods had ordained it. He gazed down at his son, at how he mirrored father, but with the elegant tongue of mother.

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 this too did not please khaemwaset, who felt that while he loved his antelope sister very much, he did not know her as well as merneith. yet father had answered his question, and so he only gave a silent nod. "she and den will make one another happy. and this means she can stay inside akashingo," he murmured.
 but he thought of how the very air had shaken when he and neith sat upon those thrones — he had no such memory with satakhetem.
 "senmut says pharaoh ramesses had one queen but many women. will you have other wives too, father?" he asked with the earnest command of a royal child, made for his role and still unsure of its limitations and accesses. "if i follow you, i will be Consort. and if i follow mother, i will be pharaoh?" how did such things work?

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 Den and Merneith would not stay. They would journey on to their own claim, expanding power. But Rashepses could only stare coldly, mouth hardcast, eyes aghast. May no man be forced to endure the pain of admitting such shame to their child! The failed Pharaoh wore his indignity like shards of broken-down armor as he faced the boy who would never see him as an exemplar of power.

 “Listen to me, Khaemwaset. You are no Consort, nor will you ever be. You are Crown Prince, Iry-pat and heir apparent to the throne of Akashingo. You will ascend to Pharaoh, and none in this life will be more powerful than you; sole god, apart from which there is no other. You will rise as the orb of Ra in a sky of darkness. You will take many wives, you will father many sons. Your altars will smoke with the proof of your glory, and all shall worship the temple of Pharaoh Khaemwaset. You will bow to no woman, no man, and I will never hear you make such a contemplation again.” The king’s brows hooked

 “I married for love. Pharaoh— your mother— we are divinely connected. We would have found each other in every lifetime. But know that I sacrificed every part of myself to be with Her; to create you, my son; my greatest pride. Know also that which you carry is the weight of your father’s dignity. You must act where I have failed, Khaem. You must return Akashingo to its rightful state.”

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 father.
 never before had the title of Consort seemed an ugly epithet until this moment. he had not seen such a thunderous look on his father's face; yes, he had witnessed savagery and passion, intrigue, arrogance. but this — this was self-turned and ugly, and khaemwaset listened with a pointed attention which wiped from his mind many sentiments.
 first, that his father and mother were equals. pharaoh worshipped her Consort, but he was still only this. secondly, that his own role was to possess and to have; that he would be something different than mother and father alike.
 that weight was a millstone which scorched khaemwaset with holy verve. he stared at rashepses, tilting his head until that near-identical jawline showed itself. "i will be pharaoh, father. and i will bend no knee but break those who would not bow for us. for me."
 his pulse raced; his heart pounded. "i will be a god, and i will carry your name on my soul." his eyes shone with determination.
 "pharaoh will have what he desires." he wanted neith, though he did not say this again, only let its truth rest in his stare.
 in such passion rashepses had revealed a third thing; that the predestiny of his son outweighed his rank now. khaemwaset was no longer asking. his father would forever receive the accolades a child should have for such a man, for his own prowess, for his own divinity; but the boy before him would sit upon their Horus Throne, and felt he should determine who it was that sat beside him.

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 Try as he might to be the stone-wrought father before him, Rashepses was a man to show emotions, though he did so sparingly when his sons were boys, lest he would make them weak. It was part of a father’s responsibility to be feared. Now the obsidian’s eyes fought to blot out tedious tears of a man’s greatest shame.

 He nodded, raising his muzzle to full height, for which Khaem might one day surpass. Surpass in all ways.

 “Your brother is eldest son to Pharaoh. You must change Ma’at if you are to succeed Den and inherit the red throne.”

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 "what must i do to change Ma'at?" khaemwaset asked, and then the air thrummed again. he stared at rashepses for a long moment; it seemed his face recalled some marrowdown intent. a memory which had never left. "grandfather ramesses came to me. not to me. grandfather ramesses moved above me, father. he called me to the thrones."
 a breath shuddered his chest; "what must i do? how will i know what Ma'at commands?" it was a question for a priest, but only his godly father held the boy's attention now.

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 “It was once done by your own aunt Pharaoh Nekubi Makono, who won the throne from her brother. You must seek Senmut, for he knows how this was done.”

But there was more—

 “The new world is vast and we do not yet know it. Spread the name and wealth of Akashingo to our neighbors. Nurture an alliance with them. Make them respect Prince Khaemwaset.” Always the conviction in his son was an aspect of great pride. Now the king wondered if this heir knew how to play his hubris.

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 pharaoh nekubi makono had done it. "yes. siptah was to be Crown Prince, but it was her in the end. that was what senmut taught to us." in his almost scribelike musings, khaemwaset did not immediately realize that he was being sent away upon his first excursion. when revelation dawned, he grew quite still, a being carved from marble as he contemplated what this might mean.
 "i will take one of our mazoi and a servant, Great One." he took a breath. "and i will return with pride."
 he bowed then; despite all he had learned, despite all he meant now to be, he remained very much a boy in adoration of his father.
 "i will make preparations now."

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 Some parts of Rashepses had been snicked off by the Gods. Even as he stood a maimed man before his son, could he truly regret Her?

 River flows through his blood, yet it runs neither so strongly nor as deeply as his love for Toula. A heavy paw crested the shoulder of his son. “Speak to your mother, Khaem. But not of what I have told you here today. Some things are kept between men, not for the soft ears of women.”

 He bid the boy to rise. Arms ached to hold him, but resisted. Khaem must not rely on such physical acts of affection. He must appear unmovable. “Pharaoh Ramesses came also to me once in a dream, before your birth. Tell me more of this encounter with your grandfather.”

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 "over the thrones of akashingo there was a painting of ramesses. i — i heard him speak through it, father, to me." if he should not speak to his mother, was neith also included in this new revealed demographic of those who could not bear the truth? he resolved that it must not be so, that if he meant her as queen, she too stood to hear these words.
 "i felt as though i was meant to sit upon that throne. i felt him — move in my chest, his spirit." golden eyes looked with a new, brief vulnerability at the only man khaemwaset had ever worshipped.
 "what did he say to you?" perhaps there was some missing piece of a puzzle which the prince could not yet see, and he waited with even breaths for rashepses' darkgilt wisdom.

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 Fur gave lift along his spine in that drunken memory; a sense of commandment that was felt even now in the hungered eyes of his most precocious child.

 I know you.

 “It is fate. One does not escape what is fated,” the king’s voice was hoarse in awe, “the gods are known for such providence, unclear until the final piece has fallen. But I believe they intend for you as their equal.” And he had never seen it so unclouded before now.

 If Khaemwaset was the shadow twin to Pharaoh Ramesses, then he would know in his ka how to change Ma’at. The father thought of Den, his first-born, and saw now why such rigour was not born into his crocodile.

 “Pharaoh Ramesses commanded that tradition be returned to Akashingo. The mesa was a different place before your mother’s coronation. One dominated by man.” The king looked deeply into the gold eyes. His golden eyes— as if expecting them to turn into lapis jewels of knowing.

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