Two Eyes Cenote love, love, love—

Happy to have Zaahira stay!

Providence was discovering what already is, like a language, or a spirit. For him, it was a whistle. Gentle in tune, but capturing the echo of something like yesterday: the foolhardy child Raemka paddling in the riverwake of his older brothers, or the young princess Toula reciting words for her Goddess Iset. A time before they had evolved in pre-determined ways, whittled and fitted into their ranks.

Rashepses became the figurehead.  His father in A’Aru would carry pride. Yet, somehow, he longed to return to where he’d been all those years ago. And he could by her whistle, which drew him swiftly from his chamber where he stood wordlessly drinking her pale gold before reaching to kiss her paw.

“You were on my mind,” he breathed, amusement playing upon his lips. He glanced at Zaahira and drew nearer.

“You are always there.” But she knew.