Lion Head Mesa How I’m gettin on

maggie listened. 
she'd gotten very good at listening, at batting her icy blues while a man talked. and she did just that for kynareth, simpering at his shoulder.
"it will be my pleasure to show yew, lord." the beauty glimmered with a mischievous grin. his seriousness, the shift of his heavy features, it was all noted by the courtesan.
ahead, the shadow cast by the mesa began to drink them in. she could see ramesses' pale figure shimmering there, and alongside him, her bawd.
"we're still small. 'ope to 'ave that sorted quickly."
just before they reached the incline of redrock, a path that would bring them to phayrow's platform, maggie darted a smouldering look toward kynareth, wetting her lips with pink tonguetip slowly.
she bowed low before the bawd and her lord, falling silent and standing aside.
but the icewater eyes continued to dance and spark.