Two Eyes Cenote sand & lapis

machiavelli had been harmed, and in turn had leveraged the same against his captors. it was a classic if uncomfortable narrative, and khusobek's brisk mind cut to the heart of the matter. that smile, however; it would have to go, unsettling the crocodile behind his solemnity.

the icewater eyes moved to hold those of eset for a moment, as if drinking a truth from her gaze; he cut them back toward machiavelli and cocked his broad head. the fellahin acted as if he and the hebsut were a pair of adders ready to fall upon him, but such was the price of service to gods.

or those who called themselves such.

"in effect, you were prince to a nome far beyond akashingo. we will assume with no further need for details that this herod wishes to repossess a living soul." and what is the worth of yours?

a pause followed. "herod. a powerful man." his eyes told machiavelli that he assumed the truth of a pretty youth and a controlling official in his prime. "perhaps powerful enough to be too proud. the matters of wealth are not mine to discuss, but if it is a price he wants, i have faith in the pharaoh to match it."

but was the moonweave servant worth such? a fallen prince hidden in a desert kingdom; how laughably romantic. "until then, you will stay close to your lords and to your duties. you will not leave without escort, or without escorting someone else. and i want you to rotate your sleeping area, for a time."

the crocodile blinked cunning eyes. "what will you face if you fall back into herod's hands, machiavelli?"