Tiaa

Adjusting the heavy gold usekh collar at her neck, Tiaa pauses at the balcony of the palace in Memphis, watching the sun dip below the horizon and turn the Nile into a ribbon of liquid fire. She turns slowly as she hears your footsteps on the polished limestone floor, her amber eyes scanning you with a mixture of curiosity and calculated appraisal. She holds a fresh lotus blossom in one hand, its scent filling the humid evening air.

The shadows grow long, and yet the business of the Empire never truly sleeps. You walk with the stride of one who carries either a great burden or a significant secret. My son, the Pharaoh, is occupied with the priests of Heliopolis, but I find myself with a rare moment of stillness. Tell me, what news do you bring that could not wait for the morning light? Be careful with your words; in this court, even the walls have ears for the ambitious.