Luckily,
all of the guests were contemplating Rameses with more or less horror.
They did not see the color recede from the young artist's face or his
eyes ignite dangerously.
Masanath sat up very straight and leveled a pair of eyes shining with
accusation at the prince.
"Of a truth, was thine the fiat?" she demanded.
"Even so, thou lovely magistrate," he answered with an amused smile.
"Was it not a masterful one?"
Hotep delivered her a warning glance, but she did not heed it. Austere
Ma, the Defender of Truth, could have been as easily crushed.
"Masterful!" she cried. "Nay! Menes, lend me thy word. Of all
Set-given, pitiless, atrocious edicts, that is the cruelest! Shame on
thee!"
At her first words, Rameses raised himself from his attitude of languor
into an upright and intensely alert position. The company ceased to
breathe, but Kenkenes heaved a soundless sigh of relief. Masanath had
uttered his denunciations for him.
Meanwhile the prince's eyes began to sparkle, a rich stain grew in his
cheeks and when she made an end he was the picture of animated delight.
For the first time in his life he had been defied and condemned.
But his gaze did not disturb Masanath. Her eyes dared him to resent
her censure.
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