Lion Head Mesa Pólemos II

Tamar.

The mercenary spoke her name before his eyes had fallen on her. He knew her approach from the cadence of her steps, the way her paws made scarcely a sound as she passed. Arsenio did not need to look at her to know.

The scent of meat filled the immediate air, drawing the cold of his eyes. The Greek man did not listen to the words the maid spoke. His mind turned over thought after thought. It took him several seconds before he realized that he was not aware of who watched over the queen while both he and Tamar were out there. Blinking away thoughts of battle and war, Arsenio lifted his chin and smiled to the autumn woman.

It is kind of you to bring this, the man said gently, voice rough.