'You're ready to go home?' Kysen asked.
'Yes.'
Kysen gave him a worried glance. 'You saw the king?'
'Yes. I'm to rest.'
'Good.'
Meren heard a relieved sigh and knew that Kysen had understood him. It wouldn't do to discuss the king's repentance in the palace.
'I'm to rest so that I'll be well enough to take the divine one on a raid as soon as I'm fit.'
Kysen's steps faltered, and he gave Meren a chagrined look. 'Oh, no.'
Meren slapped Kysen on the back as they threaded their way through courtiers, servants, and government officials.
'It seems not even treason or will prevent pharaoh from becoming a true warrior.'
Kysen snorted. 'And what if the golden one is killed on this raid?'
'That's what you and I must guard against.' He listened to his son grumble, and he almost smiled. It wasn't but a few years ago that Kysen had been just as eager to test himself as pharaoh. The memory of youth was short. No doubt Kysen had forgotten his near-fatal initiation into warfare. Meren hadn't. He'd nearly lost his son to a dirty knife thrown by a thieving nomad.
What he needed was respite from restless youth and court intrigue. He would obey pharaoh and retire for a few weeks to the country. Surely he would find refuge there.
