Lion Head Mesa thirteenth

anger boiled and rolled like tsunami waves. it churned in silent starts only to crash against her mind with the might of a thousand soldiers.

she had already done so much!

she had half a mind to plunge the sword now and be rid of all of these problems at once. it would be hasty, nasty, such things could not happen right away.

even if she wished it, in this moment of bitter venom.

maintain divinity, maintain, maintain, maintain...

her brain buzzed with it. as if she did not carry enough divinity to bless any that so much as had the blessing to touch her! and it was then she looked upon senmut, with a gaze of smoldering, ravenous love. could she? could he?

no — or perhaps he might have said as much.

or perhaps he did not wish it to be.

be my vizier, senmut. in the coming weeks, months, years. her gaze was hot upon him, but it was not with the brunt of her anger.

without you i would burn the whole palace down in the dead of night.

and the hardness of her voice suggested she was not far removed from the idea at all.