Two Eyes Cenote A Winged Insect to Your Funeral Pyre

She takes a deep breath, but the tension will not go away. She is not sure what to make of Machiavelli’s resolve in the face of her uncertainty, the kind of confidence that suffuses his features from time to time. Seldom has she felt so out of her depth, so inexperienced. She hated feeling the weaker player. But she would have one distinct advantage: that this pursuer would not be as prepared for her as she was for him.

“His power is not absolute; not in this palace. Tell me his weaknesses.”