Lion Head Mesa [m] cut out my heart and you leave me bleeding

"our guards. our elite." vipers striking. but akashingo could use more of them, and centralized beneath a single man — a single fierce prince — their reliance upon mereo could be reduced.
ramesses did not want makono thronged by the mazoi of akashingo. the image was too much for the deepening shadows of suspicion which so often flanked his heart in these times.
when charles leant closer, when pharaoh caught the scent of good wine on his breath, when the warmth from the beautiful and long-loved ears was finally his to feel, ramesses was still as carved stone.
the offer was clear.
his lips were soft, the brush of them against charles' own almost platonic in its gentle nature. but the desire was rearing in his lazuli eyes, stallions of lapis driving his heartbeat.
and if there was no resistance in the prince then, pharaoh meant to pull him closer. "show me your loyalty."