Lion Head Mesa A neat tucked slice

when sayf moved to touch her, qiao stood up sharply. it had been a long time since she'd felt the touch of another, and it woke a flare of crawling rage in her stomach. a thousand red ants roared unpleasantly to life beneath her seething skin; her olive eyes dancing. that will not be necessary. thank you, sayf.

she settled, her eyes holding him at a cold distance. he spoke openly of the pharaoh and warned her of the fellahin. if he was being deceitful, qiao could not tell. i will mind my words. does the pharaoh have hopes of spreading his dominion? or does he simply wish to strengthen his own domain?