Two Eyes Cenote ninety-third

nazli. legend. senmut sighed and let his hand drop. "me among them, machiavelli." he had forged ahead with his desires for the yaret, and ignored all else, thinking their longevity more worthwhile.

he had pained machiavelli himself, and even unknowingly. but it had been done, and he saw now why the pearled man drew away from him so severely.

"i need nothing more from you. we have taken enough. you are not being sent away. i want to free you. it is your choice what to do then." the scarlet prince's voice fell silent. could machiavelli continue here, wounded, spurned? or would he shoulder offered wealth and make his way into a new world?

or would he choose neither of these things? senmut did not know what else he might say.