Two Eyes Cenote gods of the arena

the tension in her voice gives rise to his own, tightening the muscles of his shoulders as he studies her with his good eye. pharaoh's consort's servants watch; always watching. eyes and ears of the walls and shadows. little birds eager to fly back to their master and whisper what they've heard and seen.

it unnerves meseba a little; still apparently finding his bearing in the pharaoh's courts of intrigue.

will you have to cut it out? asks meseba in a way that was a tone equivalent of ripping off a bandaid. gritted teeth and baited breath and 'tell it to me straight'. it wasn't as if it would be any use to him if he couldn't use it anyway. still, the question has plagued him and he dislikes being burdened by questions that feel like a stone in his chest.

he gestures for her to lead the way, silently communicating he will follow.

what do you need of me, sesh? asks meseba in a quiet tone.