She's got the devil's eyes
Over the past several weeks, it had become increasingly and more glaringly obvious that her plans had been set askew. And that the reason rested on the visit Lepis had paid her. In the wake of the realization, anger had begun to simmer. A soul-deep anger that stemmed from long-buried (but hardly forgotten) injustices. A reminder of ancient injuries that served to open fresh wounds.
But she is not a woman to act brashly. And so, she had waited. But now, as she watches Aten rush over her borders, she knows time is up. Not her time, of course.
A leap of anticipation quickly quelled surges through her as she turns to meet the chestnut stallion. His anger is palpable in more ways than one, and she cannot blame him. But she knows just how to direct that anger.
Her features are still and unreadable as she intercepts him. To the untrained eye, she would no doubt look just the same as she always did. She sported the same, icily inscrutable expression, the same sharpness to the blue of her eyes. But if one looked more closely, the suppressed rage could almost be felt vibrating through her. A distinct tingle of destructive energy that would give anyone with sense pause.
“Aten,” she greets, her voice low and without inflection. “I take it this visit means Lepis has finally done something?”
and they'll cut you like a weapon