Yes! He praised, as she splashed herself the first time, You already look much more refined. A genuine attempt to flatter her into a better mood, though one which perhaps fell flat.

He wished then that Osiris were here. Neferseba was a gentle and kind young goddess, and easy to tend both by handservant and guard. But Nakhtmin knew his counterpart in the care of the heiress was far more adept at turn of phrase in moments of challenge. Where soothing wounded pride was concerned, the cat was far better suited.

But Nakhtmin would persevere! He had been appointed this task.

And Imenet now was busy, which saved him the trouble of nannying her like a fawn.

As she bathed, he lifted his head again, and stayed on watch for lions. Grin drooped into a more dour grimace at the thought of the beasts (those besides Osiris, of course, whom Nakhtmin hardly considered a lion at all.) Opportunistic cowards, beasts of ambush, never a fair fight! The scars of their claws and teeth marked his hide as much or more than oryx rivals — each proclaiming a victory for him, in the end, as he yet drew breath.

That was his domain. Bloody battle and steadfast defense! Words to inspire allies and cower enemies upon the field. He gave himself over to daydreaming of matches past, wherein he proved his mettle to onlooking gods.

At Imenet's question, he blinked free of the rumination. Hmm?

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