Two Eyes Cenote ninety-sixth

Senmut questioned him—was it of his intentions with Eset? Surprise might have filtered past the stoical mask of the Mayfair, but it was tamped down just as quickly—only the hint of a smirk gracing the corners of his mouth at the notion: “Delivering the world would be a pretty promise, wouldn’t it?”

It would also be dishonest—he had spent years trying to craft the perfect life for those whom he loved as they came and went—wives. Daughters. Sons. And yet here he sat—alone—with the majority of those he had once held close regarding him with contempt.

To promise perfection would not nothing but insincere.

He canted his muzzle slightly, gaze tracing over the High Scribe as he spoke—finding little to wield his defenses to. “Germanicus would station mercenaries in Akashingo as a General. When one of his mercenaries became smitten with one of the Queen’s servants, he plucked up an unknowing girl and traded her for this other woman.” His jaw was set—a certain tension coiling in his stomach at the thought of—but no.

He couldn’t dwell on her any longer. She and her wife and ensured their paths would be far from his own.

“Toula has tried to soothe my worries before—she seems earnest. Honest…” He trailed off, his weight shifting—recalling the eerie resemblance between Toula and his deceased wife. Her admittance of kinship with him.

Akashaingo was a dangerous place, indeed. “Forgive me for being blunt—but from the way Eset was treated by your Kingdom’s guards when she wasn’t just grieving but so close to death…” Dead. Lilitu. “She was treated as if property.”

And he, the one who had tarnished what was theirs.