Merwerit wrapped herself around him and affirmed that Sidika and their smoky black son were well, but before she could continue, a small nicker came as distractingly as a tap on a shoulder, and Maslakhat turned to see the golden child of Bahadir standing next to them, her eyes full of curiosity. She greeted the trio of them before driving the conversation back to where they had left it several seasons ago—the information the golden bay had dispensed in their initial meeting had apparently been so tantalizing she had come back for more. He can feel the pearl mare prickle with jealously against him as she was quick to admonish the young guest for doing precisely what she had hoped not to. Her next words ushered Sarisi away, heeding her mother however begrudgingly.
Maslakhat placed his velvet nose upon Merwerit’s cheek, hoping to calm and reassure her that his heart did not lay any place but with her. He exhaled softly, his breath hot with his affections, before craning his neck back to address the red dun girl.
“What’s more to tell,” he says without malice. “Your father’s lack of decorum was no strength. Scorpio, you must decide if you wish to be like him—or better than him.”
He turned back to watch his daughter skirting away over the dunes, his mind secure in that she would never grow up to be so uncouth. However, a desire to be better was the first step, and if this was this young girl’s way of reaching out, Maslakhat would extend something of a lesson, if she was willing.
MASLAKHAT
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