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Once again, I was in my room in Pharaoh's house. Ramses himself came to me with the Argive behind him, in his red plumed helmet, towering even above the great Egyptian king.
"He is my guest," Pharaoh informed me, as I clutched the soft spun cotton bedclothes to cover my chest. "You are to be my guest gift. Do you object?"
I should have known it was a dream then, since the great emperor would never have asked my permission for anything. Instead, I said, "I do not object."
Pharaoh vanished then, as the Argive reached out to pull down my bedclothes and climb eagerly beside me. Lifting his heavy helmet in both hands, I managed to pull it off and set it on the floor beside me. He responded by drawing me into his muscular sunburned arms. My long hair fell across his forehead and his beard brushed my brow, until our red curls mingled together.
Our chests were pressed together, too. His seemed as hard as bronze, and I hoped that my bosom was as soft as cushions against it. I lifted my mouth to his, closing my eyes to give myself fully to the firm pressure of his lips against mine.
My eyes flew open as Moses came through the door, glaring at us both.
"Let's ignore him," Menelaus urged, but I could not help shrinking beneath my brother's angry gaze.
"She is my guest's gift," Menelaus told him. "Pharaoh himself gave her to me."
"My sister is not your gift," he proclaimed, all of his usual hesitancy gone.
"Then she will be my queen!"