Lion Head Mesa did you think it was Friday or something?

even at weddings, there was much to learn about akashingo's darkly gurgling heart. it remained beating just below the surface, covered in a fine veneer of gold and flesh - but how dark and black truly, were the organs that groaned and pulsed beneath it?

shoko had learned enough about the king to be unsurprised by arsenio's words. truth be told, shoko trusted very few, and had learned long ago to seal his traitorous thoughts from escaping past his traitorous lips. better to be silent and unknowable. no words of his could be twisted if they were never spoken at all.

he only knew the roman and his shadowfriend by sight alone. very little time had been spent socializing on shoko's behalf. he preferred it this way - it made it easier to sink knives between chests and walk away, unwounded by the surprise and betrayal in his victims' eyes.

"who is close to the king?"