Asima's glare deepened and she shook her head, hissing, "Don't condensend me...That's the offer I'd given you, Dear brother. I will not stay 'By your side'. You will not become Pharaoh, Nemiah. I'm no fragile thing, as everyone has seemed to think for years. And many, many great Pharaohs in our history have killed." Her voice calmed, and Asima continued slower, "It depends on why you kill, Nemiah." She stood, moving to the chef to order him to send the food to her room, before moving back to Nemiah.

Although she crouched, appearing to hug him, Asima whispered into her brother's ear, "If you become...man enough to have me cast out, the first to pay will be your Mesa. Think carefully, Brother." Asima left then, her slim frame returning to the rooms she had occupied a few minutes ago.