Moses had enough of this foolish slave claiming to be his sister. Tomorrow, she would be tied to a post and flogged for her insolence. To touch a prince was to touch divinity, and she had gone too far for his short patience. And now of all things, she had to start singing what sounded like a lullaby. Strange how it sounded so familiar, like the one accompanying his dreams as long as he could remember. The slave sung his lullaby, the song of his dreams. In his heart, the lingering memory of Yocheved's face burned bright as the stars.