Meadowlark Prairie waiting on the planet to turn to me, dark side

The woman was sharp. The thrust of her words was like a blade between his ribs.

Arsenio laughed and shook his head nervously. He did not like feeling as though he had been watched, been found out in any way. This woman smelled nothing of the Fellahin at Akashingo, but she had the beauty of one of Pharaoh’s favorites. The sharpness in her gaze had unsettled him. Nevertheless, Arsenio could not help but to admire it with a gleam in the ice of his eyes.

You are sharp with your guesses, herbalist.

Then, with some modicum of humor upon his lips, are all men the same, then?

A sneaky smile sparked life into his features that had not been there in some time. It was fun to speak in such words with unknown company. The woman seemed dangerous. Arsenio had never been one to shy from danger.

I do love her. The first he’d admitted it.

And I do hate the king, but I believe many would hate him… if they had seen his nature.