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    Summary

    In the frigid gloom of Drearburh, there was a necromancer and her cavalier.
    Gideon, poor thing, was so freezing cold in her cadaverous body. She needed to be warmed up. Such a precious girl should always be kept safe and warm and loved. “I’ll keep you warm, Griddle.” Harrow cooed to her, petting her soft hair.
    Gideon looked forlorn, sad and curled in on herself, sitting on the cot she used to lay, inside her Drearburh cell. It was heartwrenching to see someone as strong and powerful as Gideon trying to make herself small enough to disappear. Harrow couldn’t help but see Gideon making her kicked-puppy eyes at her.
    Wordlessly, the corpse Prince laid her head sweetly in Harrow’s lap. She shivered uselessly, body chasing warmth it could no longer produce.
    “Good girl,”

     

    Harrow wants to show her Griddle just how loved she is.

    Language:
    English
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