Ereshkigal lay alongside Nergal in her bed—now theirs—as early morning light spilled through the sliver of her curtains, tangled linens drawn up around the two of them. Nergal slept beside her, the steady rise and fall of his chest the only melody she needed. It was sweeter than birdsong to her ears. As she traced lazy circles over the planes of him, the swell of his ribs, the dip of his stomach, the scarring over his collarbone, the speech she would soon give brewed in her mind.
Never did she think she would need a king. She still didn’t, and yet that made their situation all the better. No part of him being by her side was driven by need. He wanted to be here. And she wanted him to be here, too. It was as simple as that.
wantedTherefore, those among the Hosts of Heaven who may see thei
