She crossed the room without hurrying, her heels marking each step toward him like a drum beat. When she stood before him, she looked down at his still changed face, her own expression impassive.

Then she knelt, smooth and slow, looking him in the eyes. And then suddenly her mouth was on his in a hard, deep, yet ultimately fast kiss, because pulled back before he had much time to react.

"You are my consort," her voice was low, intense, almost angry sounding. "I chose you above all others. Fidelity is not required between us, but none shall hold a place above yours. You will be the one to sire a child upon me if and when I decide to bear one. As for the Sun God, he was an itch. It has been scratched. He isn't you."