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He had missed the wedding celebrations. They had made sure that it would all be done while he was down south on his latest attempts to keep back those who tried to encroach on the lower edges of the kingdom. Iahotep had known he would protest, and that was why he had let him go on his own, to take credit and claim the victories they had won together for his own instead of waiting for a time when Osorsen would be able to defend himself. Give him a chance for a minor victory in order to claim the major battles for himself. The entire house had heard his howl of rage when he read the letter, his grandfather's expression one of sorrow for he'd known before the younger man returned what had happened.
It was impossible for him to be angry at the elder Osorsen, but he had thrown aside the papyrus and everything else he'd carried in and stormed away, leaving a trail of slaves scrambling to pick up the things he left in his wake. How could he have been so blind, so foolish to believe that being sent south could be anything more than a ruse. He'd done solo campaigns before but this, this had been far too convenient for Iahotep. If he'd only stayed, could have fought back and presented his own case to the council. Had she even spoken against it? Or was she as untrue as the general had proved himself to be.
When he had left her last, they had spoken of marriage, of finally uniting as they had wished to. She had said she would wait, wouldn't consider any offers until he returned. He'd promised it would be a short journey and he would return with yet another win to add to the many that the council could consider in his proposal. Hatshepsut had looked him in the eye and made a promise, and he had given her one in return. Anger surged in him at the thought of how easily she appeared to have betrayed him, how easy it was for both of them to go behind his back in this way. She hadn't written. No one had told him until it was all said and done, and now he was back and his plans had crashed down around him.
His chambers were dark from his absence and Osorsen knocked over everything in his path without bothering to change course, any pain was a welcome relief, a reason for his fury and pain than her. Throwing open the curtains, he made his way to the terrace that overlooked the river and the dock where his men were unloading the boats and the sun was setting. The pyramids in the far distance were now taunting reminders of the kings who had reigned before, kings he had hoped to join one day. Now there was no way to do that. Except with a violence that he did not fear, but against someone he had never thought he could harm. The tentative tread of another person signaled an end to his glaring out at the landscape and without turning he barked out an order. He needed her to calm down, even now.
"Bring her."
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He had missed the wedding celebrations. They had made sure that it would all be done while he was down south on his latest attempts to keep back those who tried to encroach on the lower edges of the kingdom. Iahotep had known he would protest, and that was why he had let him go on his own, to take credit and claim the victories they had won together for his own instead of waiting for a time when Osorsen would be able to defend himself. Give him a chance for a minor victory in order to claim the major battles for himself. The entire house had heard his howl of rage when he read the letter, his grandfather's expression one of sorrow for he'd known before the younger man returned what had happened.
It was impossible for him to be angry at the elder Osorsen, but he had thrown aside the papyrus and everything else he'd carried in and stormed away, leaving a trail of slaves scrambling to pick up the things he left in his wake. How could he have been so blind, so foolish to believe that being sent south could be anything more than a ruse. He'd done solo campaigns before but this, this had been far too convenient for Iahotep. If he'd only stayed, could have fought back and presented his own case to the council. Had she even spoken against it? Or was she as untrue as the general had proved himself to be.
When he had left her last, they had spoken of marriage, of finally uniting as they had wished to. She had said she would wait, wouldn't consider any offers until he returned. He'd promised it would be a short journey and he would return with yet another win to add to the many that the council could consider in his proposal. Hatshepsut had looked him in the eye and made a promise, and he had given her one in return. Anger surged in him at the thought of how easily she appeared to have betrayed him, how easy it was for both of them to go behind his back in this way. She hadn't written. No one had told him until it was all said and done, and now he was back and his plans had crashed down around him.
His chambers were dark from his absence and Osorsen knocked over everything in his path without bothering to change course, any pain was a welcome relief, a reason for his fury and pain than her. Throwing open the curtains, he made his way to the terrace that overlooked the river and the dock where his men were unloading the boats and the sun was setting. The pyramids in the far distance were now taunting reminders of the kings who had reigned before, kings he had hoped to join one day. Now there was no way to do that. Except with a violence that he did not fear, but against someone he had never thought he could harm. The tentative tread of another person signaled an end to his glaring out at the landscape and without turning he barked out an order. He needed her to calm down, even now.
"Bring her."
He had missed the wedding celebrations. They had made sure that it would all be done while he was down south on his latest attempts to keep back those who tried to encroach on the lower edges of the kingdom. Iahotep had known he would protest, and that was why he had let him go on his own, to take credit and claim the victories they had won together for his own instead of waiting for a time when Osorsen would be able to defend himself. Give him a chance for a minor victory in order to claim the major battles for himself. The entire house had heard his howl of rage when he read the letter, his grandfather's expression one of sorrow for he'd known before the younger man returned what had happened.
It was impossible for him to be angry at the elder Osorsen, but he had thrown aside the papyrus and everything else he'd carried in and stormed away, leaving a trail of slaves scrambling to pick up the things he left in his wake. How could he have been so blind, so foolish to believe that being sent south could be anything more than a ruse. He'd done solo campaigns before but this, this had been far too convenient for Iahotep. If he'd only stayed, could have fought back and presented his own case to the council. Had she even spoken against it? Or was she as untrue as the general had proved himself to be.
When he had left her last, they had spoken of marriage, of finally uniting as they had wished to. She had said she would wait, wouldn't consider any offers until he returned. He'd promised it would be a short journey and he would return with yet another win to add to the many that the council could consider in his proposal. Hatshepsut had looked him in the eye and made a promise, and he had given her one in return. Anger surged in him at the thought of how easily she appeared to have betrayed him, how easy it was for both of them to go behind his back in this way. She hadn't written. No one had told him until it was all said and done, and now he was back and his plans had crashed down around him.
His chambers were dark from his absence and Osorsen knocked over everything in his path without bothering to change course, any pain was a welcome relief, a reason for his fury and pain than her. Throwing open the curtains, he made his way to the terrace that overlooked the river and the dock where his men were unloading the boats and the sun was setting. The pyramids in the far distance were now taunting reminders of the kings who had reigned before, kings he had hoped to join one day. Now there was no way to do that. Except with a violence that he did not fear, but against someone he had never thought he could harm. The tentative tread of another person signaled an end to his glaring out at the landscape and without turning he barked out an order. He needed her to calm down, even now.
"Bring her."
Asha had seen storms- black clouds that blocked the sun and brought rains that could strip the skin from your bones and winds that could send your home flying beyond the horizon to a cacophony of thunder ringing like war drums through the land and sky. It looks as though she was walking through one now, though warm light streamed through the open windows across the sandstone and the only sounds was the gentle waves of the Nile, soft chirping of birds in the gardens and the hurried steps of her feet on the stone floors. If she hadn’t been told Osorsen had returned from the south she could have assumed it- no one else in the villa would leave this disaster in their wake.
The slave who has been sent scurrying to fetch her was no where to be seen- having made the wise decision to make himself scares and leave his masters rage to be soothed by others. She had already hurried from her studies when she had heard him raise a cry like a wounded jackal, she didn’t need to be summoned though his location was helpful. No need to make him wait while she poked her nose through the doorways into the possible rooms, he could have found to be the eye of his storm.
There were not a lot of things that could have caused this, and if he had lost in his campaign to the south then Asha doubted, he would have just been returning home so he must have been told. Did his father tell him? Or had he heard upon returning to Egypt’s boarders? The celebrations had rippled across the kingdom, Asha would have joined in them if they didn’t mark and event that would break her Oso’s heart. It was hard to drink and dance knowing that it spelled the end of everything he had wanted and planned for and broke all those sweet childish promises he had made with the Queen.
Seeing him through fluttering curtains with the beautiful scenery stretched out behind him was kind of surreal. The sky should have been red from a harsh sunset, fires spewing thick plumes of smoke- something to match the hot white rage emanating from him. She didn’t knock or announce himself before moving through his room, being more careful to avoid the furnishings and belongings he had filled it with than he had been. She liked smashing things when she was mad, but she didn’t smash her own things. Men were odd creatures.
“Destroying your room wont fix this,” She said, her tone softer than her words would have implied. Asha placed a hand on his arm as she came to stand beside him on the terrace. She didn't kiss him, she thought it wasn't the time for it.
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Asha had seen storms- black clouds that blocked the sun and brought rains that could strip the skin from your bones and winds that could send your home flying beyond the horizon to a cacophony of thunder ringing like war drums through the land and sky. It looks as though she was walking through one now, though warm light streamed through the open windows across the sandstone and the only sounds was the gentle waves of the Nile, soft chirping of birds in the gardens and the hurried steps of her feet on the stone floors. If she hadn’t been told Osorsen had returned from the south she could have assumed it- no one else in the villa would leave this disaster in their wake.
The slave who has been sent scurrying to fetch her was no where to be seen- having made the wise decision to make himself scares and leave his masters rage to be soothed by others. She had already hurried from her studies when she had heard him raise a cry like a wounded jackal, she didn’t need to be summoned though his location was helpful. No need to make him wait while she poked her nose through the doorways into the possible rooms, he could have found to be the eye of his storm.
There were not a lot of things that could have caused this, and if he had lost in his campaign to the south then Asha doubted, he would have just been returning home so he must have been told. Did his father tell him? Or had he heard upon returning to Egypt’s boarders? The celebrations had rippled across the kingdom, Asha would have joined in them if they didn’t mark and event that would break her Oso’s heart. It was hard to drink and dance knowing that it spelled the end of everything he had wanted and planned for and broke all those sweet childish promises he had made with the Queen.
Seeing him through fluttering curtains with the beautiful scenery stretched out behind him was kind of surreal. The sky should have been red from a harsh sunset, fires spewing thick plumes of smoke- something to match the hot white rage emanating from him. She didn’t knock or announce himself before moving through his room, being more careful to avoid the furnishings and belongings he had filled it with than he had been. She liked smashing things when she was mad, but she didn’t smash her own things. Men were odd creatures.
“Destroying your room wont fix this,” She said, her tone softer than her words would have implied. Asha placed a hand on his arm as she came to stand beside him on the terrace. She didn't kiss him, she thought it wasn't the time for it.
Asha had seen storms- black clouds that blocked the sun and brought rains that could strip the skin from your bones and winds that could send your home flying beyond the horizon to a cacophony of thunder ringing like war drums through the land and sky. It looks as though she was walking through one now, though warm light streamed through the open windows across the sandstone and the only sounds was the gentle waves of the Nile, soft chirping of birds in the gardens and the hurried steps of her feet on the stone floors. If she hadn’t been told Osorsen had returned from the south she could have assumed it- no one else in the villa would leave this disaster in their wake.
The slave who has been sent scurrying to fetch her was no where to be seen- having made the wise decision to make himself scares and leave his masters rage to be soothed by others. She had already hurried from her studies when she had heard him raise a cry like a wounded jackal, she didn’t need to be summoned though his location was helpful. No need to make him wait while she poked her nose through the doorways into the possible rooms, he could have found to be the eye of his storm.
There were not a lot of things that could have caused this, and if he had lost in his campaign to the south then Asha doubted, he would have just been returning home so he must have been told. Did his father tell him? Or had he heard upon returning to Egypt’s boarders? The celebrations had rippled across the kingdom, Asha would have joined in them if they didn’t mark and event that would break her Oso’s heart. It was hard to drink and dance knowing that it spelled the end of everything he had wanted and planned for and broke all those sweet childish promises he had made with the Queen.
Seeing him through fluttering curtains with the beautiful scenery stretched out behind him was kind of surreal. The sky should have been red from a harsh sunset, fires spewing thick plumes of smoke- something to match the hot white rage emanating from him. She didn’t knock or announce himself before moving through his room, being more careful to avoid the furnishings and belongings he had filled it with than he had been. She liked smashing things when she was mad, but she didn’t smash her own things. Men were odd creatures.
“Destroying your room wont fix this,” She said, her tone softer than her words would have implied. Asha placed a hand on his arm as she came to stand beside him on the terrace. She didn't kiss him, she thought it wasn't the time for it.
Asha’s voice was a welcome relief from the fury that was burning through him, even as she scolded him for scattering things in his wake. She was the only one who could usually calm him, but even her touch made his entire body tense up now. Osorsen tightened his grip on the railing and let her words sink in for a moment, the warmth of her hand and her body beside him was infuriating. He wanted her, yes. As always. But the loss of what he had been fighting for made it all the more bittersweet.
”No. I have to destroy them.”
His tone was cold in direct opposition to the fire he felt, and there was a shift in him as it clicked. It was no longer Iahotep alone who stood as his enemy. She was one too. Complicit in giving away everything she had promised him. They would both pay for what had been stolen from him and he would find a way to win back everything he had been working for. To cross him was death as far as he was concerned.
Tugging his arm from her grip, the general instead took hold of hers to yank her into him, arm sliding tight around her waist to hold her back to his chest. This was better, having her pressed between him and the railing was distracting and familiar enough all at once. Though covered in dust from the road he paid little care to any streaks of it his fingers might leave on her clothes, they could bathe and wash things later. His mouth found her neck and he drew his attentions from shoulder to earlobe before breathing out the rest of what he had to say.
”In any case. I promised you a palace when I stole you from your husband. So a palace we shall have.”
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Asha’s voice was a welcome relief from the fury that was burning through him, even as she scolded him for scattering things in his wake. She was the only one who could usually calm him, but even her touch made his entire body tense up now. Osorsen tightened his grip on the railing and let her words sink in for a moment, the warmth of her hand and her body beside him was infuriating. He wanted her, yes. As always. But the loss of what he had been fighting for made it all the more bittersweet.
”No. I have to destroy them.”
His tone was cold in direct opposition to the fire he felt, and there was a shift in him as it clicked. It was no longer Iahotep alone who stood as his enemy. She was one too. Complicit in giving away everything she had promised him. They would both pay for what had been stolen from him and he would find a way to win back everything he had been working for. To cross him was death as far as he was concerned.
Tugging his arm from her grip, the general instead took hold of hers to yank her into him, arm sliding tight around her waist to hold her back to his chest. This was better, having her pressed between him and the railing was distracting and familiar enough all at once. Though covered in dust from the road he paid little care to any streaks of it his fingers might leave on her clothes, they could bathe and wash things later. His mouth found her neck and he drew his attentions from shoulder to earlobe before breathing out the rest of what he had to say.
”In any case. I promised you a palace when I stole you from your husband. So a palace we shall have.”
Asha’s voice was a welcome relief from the fury that was burning through him, even as she scolded him for scattering things in his wake. She was the only one who could usually calm him, but even her touch made his entire body tense up now. Osorsen tightened his grip on the railing and let her words sink in for a moment, the warmth of her hand and her body beside him was infuriating. He wanted her, yes. As always. But the loss of what he had been fighting for made it all the more bittersweet.
”No. I have to destroy them.”
His tone was cold in direct opposition to the fire he felt, and there was a shift in him as it clicked. It was no longer Iahotep alone who stood as his enemy. She was one too. Complicit in giving away everything she had promised him. They would both pay for what had been stolen from him and he would find a way to win back everything he had been working for. To cross him was death as far as he was concerned.
Tugging his arm from her grip, the general instead took hold of hers to yank her into him, arm sliding tight around her waist to hold her back to his chest. This was better, having her pressed between him and the railing was distracting and familiar enough all at once. Though covered in dust from the road he paid little care to any streaks of it his fingers might leave on her clothes, they could bathe and wash things later. His mouth found her neck and he drew his attentions from shoulder to earlobe before breathing out the rest of what he had to say.
”In any case. I promised you a palace when I stole you from your husband. So a palace we shall have.”
If Asha was ever compelled to voice what it is she found appealing about her lover it would be that. A white hot intensity that was almost intoxicating to be around. She had just been frustrated with his behavior (and would be again, without doubt) she understood, and the understanding resonated through her bones. Asha also knew what it meant for him to say it- how often had she heard him wax poetic about his beautiful young queen? It sometimes seemed as though he was possessed by those feelings- and now he turned on her. She wondered if it would last, if he could really let go of that obsession, but she didn’t ask it. Not now- he was decisive but he would not be marching off to wage war on his queen before dinner.
“Bold as always, Osorsen,” He voice was quiet as Asha struggled to decide if she should support this- she wanted too but she also wanted him alive. She all but fell into his touched and melted into the kisses and by the ancestors she had missed this. She had missed him and his touch and his presence in her life more than she would have thought she could miss anyone. Distance and time could be managed because there was always the eventuality that he would return- that both distance and time would close up. Battle could be deadly, but even in defeat he might live. Treason seemed more risky- either he would succeed or she would lose him.
However it could not be said that Asha was not a risk taker, and if this was what he wanted then she would jump in with him. What attachment did she have to some girl queen of a land she occupied out of coincidence? She was in Egypt for Osorsen and though she didn’t have the rank or power to help him she could at the very least not push against him. And not tell him that she had been right to think his infatuation with the queen was foolish. “It was the only reason I left with you,” She teased, running her hand along the arm wrapped around her waste and leaning into him, tilting her head back slightly both to catch a glimpse of him and encourage him further, “It is not the reason I stayed through.”
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If Asha was ever compelled to voice what it is she found appealing about her lover it would be that. A white hot intensity that was almost intoxicating to be around. She had just been frustrated with his behavior (and would be again, without doubt) she understood, and the understanding resonated through her bones. Asha also knew what it meant for him to say it- how often had she heard him wax poetic about his beautiful young queen? It sometimes seemed as though he was possessed by those feelings- and now he turned on her. She wondered if it would last, if he could really let go of that obsession, but she didn’t ask it. Not now- he was decisive but he would not be marching off to wage war on his queen before dinner.
“Bold as always, Osorsen,” He voice was quiet as Asha struggled to decide if she should support this- she wanted too but she also wanted him alive. She all but fell into his touched and melted into the kisses and by the ancestors she had missed this. She had missed him and his touch and his presence in her life more than she would have thought she could miss anyone. Distance and time could be managed because there was always the eventuality that he would return- that both distance and time would close up. Battle could be deadly, but even in defeat he might live. Treason seemed more risky- either he would succeed or she would lose him.
However it could not be said that Asha was not a risk taker, and if this was what he wanted then she would jump in with him. What attachment did she have to some girl queen of a land she occupied out of coincidence? She was in Egypt for Osorsen and though she didn’t have the rank or power to help him she could at the very least not push against him. And not tell him that she had been right to think his infatuation with the queen was foolish. “It was the only reason I left with you,” She teased, running her hand along the arm wrapped around her waste and leaning into him, tilting her head back slightly both to catch a glimpse of him and encourage him further, “It is not the reason I stayed through.”
If Asha was ever compelled to voice what it is she found appealing about her lover it would be that. A white hot intensity that was almost intoxicating to be around. She had just been frustrated with his behavior (and would be again, without doubt) she understood, and the understanding resonated through her bones. Asha also knew what it meant for him to say it- how often had she heard him wax poetic about his beautiful young queen? It sometimes seemed as though he was possessed by those feelings- and now he turned on her. She wondered if it would last, if he could really let go of that obsession, but she didn’t ask it. Not now- he was decisive but he would not be marching off to wage war on his queen before dinner.
“Bold as always, Osorsen,” He voice was quiet as Asha struggled to decide if she should support this- she wanted too but she also wanted him alive. She all but fell into his touched and melted into the kisses and by the ancestors she had missed this. She had missed him and his touch and his presence in her life more than she would have thought she could miss anyone. Distance and time could be managed because there was always the eventuality that he would return- that both distance and time would close up. Battle could be deadly, but even in defeat he might live. Treason seemed more risky- either he would succeed or she would lose him.
However it could not be said that Asha was not a risk taker, and if this was what he wanted then she would jump in with him. What attachment did she have to some girl queen of a land she occupied out of coincidence? She was in Egypt for Osorsen and though she didn’t have the rank or power to help him she could at the very least not push against him. And not tell him that she had been right to think his infatuation with the queen was foolish. “It was the only reason I left with you,” She teased, running her hand along the arm wrapped around her waste and leaning into him, tilting her head back slightly both to catch a glimpse of him and encourage him further, “It is not the reason I stayed through.”
”Have I become too predictable? That won’t do.”
His tone was mostly jest but there was an undercurrent still of the anger he felt. Asha usually had a soothing effect on him, her presence calmed and distracted him from his intensity, even now he could feel his rage shifting into a different kind of heat, and he should have leaned into that, allowed her to soothe him with their usual ways and then laid abed with her spent and with the fire temporarily set to burning coals instead. But there was more to it now. There was not just fury but a betrayal, and that was not so easily put out by the touch of his mistress.
A growl tore from his throat again as he released her, pacing from one end of the terrace to the next, eyes fixed on the point in the distance where the Nile led up to Cairo, to the Evening Star Palace and the woman he had fooled himself into believing he loved. If she could so easily give in to the whims of her mother and this new false pharaoh, she could never have truly been one for him. He needed someone with the strength to be stubborn, resist pressures. Hatshepsut was not that woman, nor would she ever be now.
”Asha. What do you think of Greece?”
As suddenly as he’d asked the question he’d frozen, staring now north but beyond the capitol city, further across blue waves to a land he had been to briefly before, a place he had a desire now to make his own. His lips curled up into a grin that was more of a snarl, the balm to put on the wound that had been dealt to him. Greece was full of wealth and power, and last he’d heard there was not always peace in the kingdoms. How easy it would be to sail his men up the river, across that sea to claim some of it for himself. The fear he could strike into the Pharaoh and Queen as he showed them how simple it was for Osorsen H’Moghadam to get what he wanted. He had been kind to allow them peace for as long as he had. And now he had no reason to be kind.
”I need to find my steward. I will go to their event. I might even avoid killing them. But we, my love, will have our palace soon enough.”
His arms reached for her once again, scooping her up with one beneath her knees and the other supporting her back. Oso was in desperate need of a bath and now that an idea had ignited, he had little desire to wait and brood. Perhaps he would bring Asha with him, flaunt her openly on his arm in front of his former beloved to show her just how easy it was for him to be rid of her. With the exotic beauty by his side, and future victory on his mind he couldn’t fail.
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”Have I become too predictable? That won’t do.”
His tone was mostly jest but there was an undercurrent still of the anger he felt. Asha usually had a soothing effect on him, her presence calmed and distracted him from his intensity, even now he could feel his rage shifting into a different kind of heat, and he should have leaned into that, allowed her to soothe him with their usual ways and then laid abed with her spent and with the fire temporarily set to burning coals instead. But there was more to it now. There was not just fury but a betrayal, and that was not so easily put out by the touch of his mistress.
A growl tore from his throat again as he released her, pacing from one end of the terrace to the next, eyes fixed on the point in the distance where the Nile led up to Cairo, to the Evening Star Palace and the woman he had fooled himself into believing he loved. If she could so easily give in to the whims of her mother and this new false pharaoh, she could never have truly been one for him. He needed someone with the strength to be stubborn, resist pressures. Hatshepsut was not that woman, nor would she ever be now.
”Asha. What do you think of Greece?”
As suddenly as he’d asked the question he’d frozen, staring now north but beyond the capitol city, further across blue waves to a land he had been to briefly before, a place he had a desire now to make his own. His lips curled up into a grin that was more of a snarl, the balm to put on the wound that had been dealt to him. Greece was full of wealth and power, and last he’d heard there was not always peace in the kingdoms. How easy it would be to sail his men up the river, across that sea to claim some of it for himself. The fear he could strike into the Pharaoh and Queen as he showed them how simple it was for Osorsen H’Moghadam to get what he wanted. He had been kind to allow them peace for as long as he had. And now he had no reason to be kind.
”I need to find my steward. I will go to their event. I might even avoid killing them. But we, my love, will have our palace soon enough.”
His arms reached for her once again, scooping her up with one beneath her knees and the other supporting her back. Oso was in desperate need of a bath and now that an idea had ignited, he had little desire to wait and brood. Perhaps he would bring Asha with him, flaunt her openly on his arm in front of his former beloved to show her just how easy it was for him to be rid of her. With the exotic beauty by his side, and future victory on his mind he couldn’t fail.
”Have I become too predictable? That won’t do.”
His tone was mostly jest but there was an undercurrent still of the anger he felt. Asha usually had a soothing effect on him, her presence calmed and distracted him from his intensity, even now he could feel his rage shifting into a different kind of heat, and he should have leaned into that, allowed her to soothe him with their usual ways and then laid abed with her spent and with the fire temporarily set to burning coals instead. But there was more to it now. There was not just fury but a betrayal, and that was not so easily put out by the touch of his mistress.
A growl tore from his throat again as he released her, pacing from one end of the terrace to the next, eyes fixed on the point in the distance where the Nile led up to Cairo, to the Evening Star Palace and the woman he had fooled himself into believing he loved. If she could so easily give in to the whims of her mother and this new false pharaoh, she could never have truly been one for him. He needed someone with the strength to be stubborn, resist pressures. Hatshepsut was not that woman, nor would she ever be now.
”Asha. What do you think of Greece?”
As suddenly as he’d asked the question he’d frozen, staring now north but beyond the capitol city, further across blue waves to a land he had been to briefly before, a place he had a desire now to make his own. His lips curled up into a grin that was more of a snarl, the balm to put on the wound that had been dealt to him. Greece was full of wealth and power, and last he’d heard there was not always peace in the kingdoms. How easy it would be to sail his men up the river, across that sea to claim some of it for himself. The fear he could strike into the Pharaoh and Queen as he showed them how simple it was for Osorsen H’Moghadam to get what he wanted. He had been kind to allow them peace for as long as he had. And now he had no reason to be kind.
”I need to find my steward. I will go to their event. I might even avoid killing them. But we, my love, will have our palace soon enough.”
His arms reached for her once again, scooping her up with one beneath her knees and the other supporting her back. Oso was in desperate need of a bath and now that an idea had ignited, he had little desire to wait and brood. Perhaps he would bring Asha with him, flaunt her openly on his arm in front of his former beloved to show her just how easy it was for him to be rid of her. With the exotic beauty by his side, and future victory on his mind he couldn’t fail.
