Redsand Canyon Adelfós

Arsenio scoffed.

Of course I do.

The response was easier than the stiffness in his shoulders and back. The man’s blue eyes found Germanicus’ face and held it. Arsenio did not have a reason to lie to the Roman. They had done enough in their time together for him to know.

The man does not give many parts to love, you know. He has lovely eyes, but when there is toxin and bile that boils underneath, ehh, the mercenary shook his coat, as though he could feel the Pharaoh’s gaze upon his back. Arsenio wished that he could approach the subject of Ramesses with a quick grin and a shrug of his shoulders, but the Pharaoh had been tainted in his mind.

Does it bother you, Roman? That I hate Ramesses.