She reminded Isis of her threat and moved
into the open space, which extended down the center of the hall.
Har-hat, glittering with gems, and rustling in snow-white robes,
approached with triumph in his face to embrace her. But within three
steps he paused as suddenly as though he had been commanded. Masanath
had not spoken, but her pretty chin had risen, her mouth curved
haughtily, and the gaze she fixed upon him from under her lashes was cold
and forbidding.
She extended the tips of her fingers to him. The action clamored its
meaning. Not in the face of that assembly dared he disregard it, but his
black eyes hardened and flashed threateningly. The warning given, he
bent his knee and kissed the proffered hand. He had become the subject
of his daughter.
She suffered him to lead her to the royal dais where she knelt. The
queen descended, raised her and led her to the throne. Meneptah met
them, kissed Masanath's forehead, and blessed her. The queen embraced
her and returned to her place beside the Pharaoh.
Masanath turned to the right of the royal dais and faced the prince.
Thus far, her greetings had not been hard. Now was the supreme test.
Har-hat conducted her within a few paces of the prince and stepped aside.
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