Two Eyes Cenote linen

Fragments of sand alloyed into the pale gold of late roses; the Pharaoh’s regard, at present, returned. The eyes of the riveprince glittered with pleasure.

“Muat-Riya,” he spoke the name of the polished stone palace where they stood, “It is a marvel. It is the beginning of a new era for Akashingo. Together your daughter and I will build an Empire the likes of which the world has never seen.” He need not speak it; the old ways were dead. The old ways had ended in poison and treachery. Yet there was crucial wisdom in this spectral Pharaoh who raised the kingdom he was soon to devise. In his success, and in his failures.

“If I am the dust of your purpose, Ramesses,” he mused, “tell me that which you pursued in life.”