he laughs, the sound genuine as he remembers his awkward fumbling around the pharaoh. "the staff was really worried you'd drop a pyramid on their head" that had been it, his need to lighten their worries had lead him to be the one to approach ozymandias to discuss the crop project. things really had taken an odd turn afterwards.
"I was scared too, despite not only hearing the horrific parts of your story. my wife back then told me about her pride of growing up in the kingdom you helped secure." she had spoken with such fondness that solomon had caught himself sometimes playing with the thought of glimpsing into that past to tell her stories. the thought of seeing the plagues however, had been a greater fear than his curiosity.
"...when the grand order started and I became acting director, I had come to accept my fate. I had a year left to live, I would not leave chaldea. and I would never again feel rain on my skin, feel the warmth of the desert sun or smell the sand." he would never return home.
with a sigh he leans back against ozymandias. "...until I approached you. unknowingly, you allowed a dying man to feel at home again. and for that I am thankful and asking for your permission to remember you. and... if you want I'll ask your brother for you. in case our dearest pharaoh struggles with voicing what he wants."
@ardenssolis ( continuation ).
