The convoy of the king and his inner circle headed east to their usual hunting grounds. The sun was bright; the sky was clear, the sound of the early birds was heard in the background framing the perfect portrait the nature drew. This early in the morning, the crisp dewy air was the perfect start for a hard journey through the hot burning sun of Egypt’s desert that would follow.
The king was resting in his comfortable wagon on account of his dwindling health, not like some other nobles who weren’t interested in horsemanship, their big ale drinking belly, and their vanity stopped them from participating in one of life’s pleasures. Their skin color, and its freshness was way important than enjoying a good horse ride. To her, they were a shell of men who are not worth the air the gods blessed them with.