Lion Head Mesa suviŋñiq

the palaces awaited the conception of royal children. senmut had sent bandages and medicine for akhtar. he himself had devoted energy to fortifying their defenses.

and each hour he longed for nazli.

a sentry stooped, whispering to the prince, who stood and strode up, out of the mesa.

a man lingered on the far red border. senmut approached with slow steps, gradually growing larger before the panting stranger. "this is akashingo. i am senmut. who are you?"