Two Eyes Cenote Sleep over

Ever the tender sentinel, Toula’s honey-sweet charm cast every shadow of Muat-riya in a lustros light. He hears undulating delight on her voice. She was growing attached to this soft-eared cur. His Toula, who would find vindication in the most pitiful of Gods’ creations. The great effort that the boy made to speak was apparent, even as Rashepses stood several heads higher. He’d have readily sent him off, too peculiar to muddy the gleaming hallways of their pleasure palace if he wasn’t so endeared to the gentle croons coming from the mouth of his wife. This one could be inspected further in the thralls of servitude.

‘Rooke’ as named was nearly primed to bolt and so Semer-wati was pleased to see the ashen frame of his mazoi, clinging to the shadows like a wraith ready for task. But it was the second of the men, the fellahin with the mottled coat of nobility that attracted a flame in the king’s eye. Handsome. Too handsome for servitude.

“Dine with your monarchs,” he made the terse command of the halfling, “join our table this evening.” Rashepses’ lip curled and he lowered his head to set a kiss upon the golden temple of his wife. Of course, they’d customarily enjoyed eachother between each course. Tonight would be a new kind of test to his restraint. The idea of it had him posturing along her side.

“Machiavelli will serve.” It was assumed also Legend would oversee their visitor until the end of his stay, unless his wife meant to add to her growing trove of subjects.