Two Eyes Cenote Hunger of the Pine

There is a press in her brow for Machiavelli’s cloying words. She did not want his flattery, but the assurance that no harm would come to the inhabitants of Muat-riya.

“It is my duty to oversee this palace in the interest of our Pharaoh. This is no place for dangerous impulsivity,” she speaks pointedly.

A sharp look flicks from his face to Legend’s, to find again the confirmation in the shade.  He had been forthcoming, and had clearly won the mazoi’s favor. There is no tempering Eset's stance but the furrow in her brow softens.

“To be fellahin is a housekeeper to the people of Muat-riya. Is this servitude what you desire, Machiavelli?”