Two Eyes Cenote linen

“Ramesses,” he makes a bid of the specter that flickers into near nothingness. “King, husband, consort. Title me as you please. I wish not to squander time. Your message is received. Your daughter’s blood is holy. It will not be wasted. She will be Pharaoh. It is not my aim to seize this from her,” his obsidian brow quirked.

“While you are here, let us speak of her.” A love for Toula, that much they had in common, “She wants you to give her away on our wedding day.”

“In fact, it is the only thing she asks for.”