Bramblepoint [M] The Night Comes Down like Heaven

"are you offering to be my lover and confidant, machiavelli?" senmut asked in a cool, direct voice, though the bright emerald of his eyes shone an easy interest. "i would like to get to know you. yes."

his tone held the fortuitous sound of more to come.

machiavelli spoke of legend and he stilled, remembering their banter upon this journey. a strange expression flickered in his gaze; not dislike; not anger; not confusion; perhaps it was unknown even to senmut.

he felt a smooth withdrawal from them both, wishing a happiness between mazoi and fellahin that a prince would only spoil. "of course, machiavelli. that is the right thing to do." his steps were graceful, his eyes a wink; "i will go and bathe, and hunt elsewhere before i come back."

senmut turned, wishing to depart smoothly and wrestle with this notion in another place, away from machiavelli's inviting body and sleek arms.