The next day Ninsara had felt the shift in her men.
She stood in the command annex, arms crossed, staring down at a clay tablet report. Three captains had been late to the morning briefing. Two others had questioned her orders on patrol strength — something that had never happened before.
Meanwhile back in the Temple, Zephyr woke just after dawn in the small side chamber they had assigned him. During the day, the temple felt almost… administrative.
He walked the outer colonnades slowly, hands clasped behind his back. From there, he watched the council’s workers move exactly as he had instructed. A faint smile touched his face. He even stepped in at times, quietly correcting a few of them as they worked.
The following evening, the small sanctum felt even more intimate. Only three oil lamps burned, casting a soft golden glow across the clay tablets and star charts. A thin trail of incense smoke curled upward from a brazier, carrying notes of myrrh and cedar.
When Zephyr entered, Ila-seret stood before him. Her eyes were lined with kohl deeper and more precise than the priestesses allowed, her features marked with unusual care.
His breath hitched as his gaze stayed fixed on her.
Ila-Seret stood waiting, her white linen robe edged in deep blue falling gracefully over her slender frame. She looked every bit the devoted servant of Inanna.
“You returned,” she said simply.
“I did,” Zephyr replied, stepping inside. “The Elders commanded it. But I would have come anyway.”
A faint warmth touched the corners of her eyes.
Zephyr looked at her. “Last time I asked about Inanna, you left. Was it my question that unsettled you?”
She gestured for him to sit on the woven mat. “When I was fourteen, I was still a novice—quiet, always watching, never speaking. The temple elders thought I lacked true fire. During the Great Venus Alignment, when the morning star stood brightest in the sky, I was sent alone to the upper shrine to tend the eternal flame.”
Ila-Seret’s gaze returned to Zephyr, vulnerable in a way he had not yet seen.
“I knelt before the altar and prayed. Suddenly, the flame flared violently, though there was no wind inside the shrine. A warmth unlike anything I had ever known flooded through me. It was not gentle. It burned. I felt… desire. Not for a person, but for life itself.”
Zephyr felt another flash from the dream—the horned crown, the powerful hips, the face that mirrored the woman before him. The resemblance was uncanny. He swallowed.
She leaned forward just enough that their foreheads nearly touched. Zephyr could smell the faint floral scent in her hair.
Ila-seret continued, “From that day, I was held in higher regard by the elders. That is why I was given the duty to teach you.”
Zephyr listened, then said, “You should be the high priestess.”
Ila-seret held his gaze for a moment. Then, as if setting the thought aside, she shifted. “Tell me about yours… your mother and father.”
Zephyr’s anger flickered, but he held it back—he understood the unspoken balance. If she had opened a part of herself, he was expected to do the same.
“I had a father once,” he began. “I never really knew him. He left when I was still young—left my mother and me behind.”
He paused, jaw tightening. “He already had a wife and a daughter before he met my mother.”
Without waiting for a response, Zephyr rose and walked outside.
Zephyr returned to his assigned chamber. He had just removed his outer robe when a soft knock sounded at the entrance.
A young priestess stepped inside, carrying a sealed clay cup. She kept her eyes lowered respectfully. “A blessing from the High Priestess,” she said. “For your studies and continued alignment with Inanna.”
Zephyr nodded, accepting the cup. He raised it toward his lips.
The curtain suddenly flew open.
Aylin stormed in and with one fluid motion, she knocked the cup from his hand. The wine splashed across the stone floor with a violent hiss.
“Poison!” Aylin snarled.
The priestess’s eyes widened in panic. She turned and bolted from the chamber. Aylin started to pursue but stopped herself, spinning back to Zephyr instead.
“Did any touch your mouth?” she demanded, grabbing his face with both hands and checking him urgently.
“No,” Zephyr said, heart pounding. “I hadn’t drunk yet.”
Aylin’s hands trembled slightly against his jaw. Their eyes locked.
Before either could speak, Aylin surged forward and kissed him hard.
Zephyr pulled her tight against him, one hand tangling in her thick hair, the other gripping her waist. Their mouths moved urgently, tongues meeting in heated strokes.
Aylin yanked at his linen undertunic, pulling it over his head. Zephyr removed her armor piece by piece, exposing her sun-browned breasts. He immediately lowered his head, capturing one stiff nipple between his lips. He sucked firmly, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak while his hand kneaded the other breast.
Aylin gasped and arched into him. Her hand slipped beneath the cloth tied around his waist, trying to find what lay underneath.
Zephyr caught her wrist for a moment, then simply untied the cloth and let it fall away completely.
The moment his cock came into view, Aylin's breath caught. Curiosity overcame restraint. She reached out, trying to gauge its size with her fingers before finally leaning forward and taking it into her mouth.
Zephyr gasped, enjoying every second of it.
Yet his thoughts refused to stay where they should. His mind drifted back to Ila-Seret—her beauty, the calm certainty in her voice, the way she carried herself. He remembered her bending beside the fire and the brief glimpse of soft flesh that had caught his attention.
Aylin's teeth grazed his skin, drawing him back to the present. The sting only made him suck in a sharper breath. Instead of pulling away, he found himself pushing deeper into the pleasure she offered, surrendering to the moment even as his thoughts wandered elsewhere.
Suddenly, a faint sound of movement broke the silence. At least, they thought it had.
Aylin took the cock out of her mouth, breathing ragged, her face flushed with arousal. “I need to go,” she whispered hoarsely. “If someone comes looking… if they find me here like this…”
“I know. But don't tell the commander yet.”
Aylin stared at him in disbelief. “That bitch tried to kill you once. What's stopping her from trying again?”
Zephyr shook his head. “I'm not pretending. Just leave it alone for now.”
She gave him one final, searing kiss before slipping out of the chamber as quietly as she had arrived.
Zephyr sat on the edge of the mat, chest heaving, body aching with unspent desire. His eyes moved to the floor where the poisoned wine had spilled. The stone was still faintly bubbling.
Enheduanna had just tried to kill him.