Lion Head Mesa Viper

The Mazoi’s eyes lingers- it is then she will understand and think of the way the warrior had shuddered beneath her touch; of Khusobke’s knowing smile. She wonders if this is what Zaahira desires of her, to serve a carnal purpose. She will not divert the woman’s gaze but lower her lips for a second sip, eyes abiding with the tawny woman’s. This too is her role. She has pleasured much worse than a silk-sleek warrior.

“Opportunity,” is her response. “I have served a master before, though never a palace. Never a Queen.” Measured, and yet remaining truthful. Of bygone days she will not speak.

“And you, my Lady? You are quite skillful. Have you learned here in Akashingo?”