Two Eyes Cenote rosemary

in the hours following the reckoning of zaahira and khusobek, she made herself a bed for the night within muat-riya.
she avoided his gaze whenever she could, and stopped only to assist him with butchering the meat. surely the fellahin would make something wonderful with it. she dismissed herself and walked in silence toward nazli's billowing altar room; a store of berries tucked beneath her tongue.
she did not want to go to her room yet, did not — could not go back to akashingo, no, she must sleep on it. in the morning, she told herself profusely as the numbing warmth of berries swept her throat; in the morning, i will face it.
her back arches against the cool set of the limestone, the wall opposite the intricate paintings, and when she was almost certain no one else could hear it, she begins to weep.