Two Eyes Cenote ninety-eighth

He speaks sacred words meant to heal, but it substantiates all Eset had feared to be true. The Gods were angered. They had ruined so utterly. Her eyelids closed. She forbade herself more tears and focused only on the guiding warmth of holy hands. This feeling must be honed; taken, sculpted, and turned into something else.

When Senmut absolved her sins, he forgave with the voice of a god. But in this moment of precious vulnerability, her eyes reopen to find his.

“Hathor has called to you,” the smile on the hebsut's lips is thinning, yet unalloyed as she recalls their conversation from so many months before, when Senmut's love for Nazli was veiled behind his faith. “Do you want marriage?”

It was not bittersweet. Eset was warmed to see the Erpa-ha's life open to happiness, and in the secret annals of her own heart, it awakened the long buried desire she held for her own partnership.