“How dare you mock the efforts of my soldiers!”
Pharaoh roared, and the guards standing on either side of his throne went to draw their swords.
Jente dipped into a low, graceful bow, one more befitting a dancer than a warrior. Engel wished he knew what her skills were before they got into these sticky situations.
“We do not mean to mock,” Jente said. “We watched the battle, and we sorrowed for your men. We merely wish to help, to prevent as many men dying in the next battle.”
Pharaoh hummed thoughtfully, turned to Engel. “What would you have done?”
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