Two Eyes Cenote sixty-fifth

She longs to offer him comforts, but finds she does not know which words to soothe him even as the wine loosens her tongue. The hebsut feels only that she thinks a great deal of Senmut; sees him not for his failures, but for his resolve.

She envisions Toula’s portrait; the portrayal of hope on the wall. How had they both come to be this way- subdued?

“If tomorrow you are to fail- would you rewrite all of this?” The ask, she realizes, is as much for herself. She needed to know his answer- she might have her’s then, too.