Two Eyes Cenote might & meat

"machiavelli."

the last time he had gazed into those eyes, they had been tortured by pain and glazed with hatred; he remembered the blood spat and the way he had twisted the thorns. and even now he should have found himself appalled to discover no regret. not for what he had done. only who it had been.

"we have just come from attending eset," khusobek said to the alabaster wraith. "she has sent me to you for poison, which implies you have discussed such matters beforehand."

was it not true? it was machiavelli's turn now to speak.