Dragoncrest Cliffs mindful of neither her child

erzulie smiled down at his eager young head, eternally charmed by the sound of his accented voice, the slow syrup of his pirate's words. brave. beautiful. she felt the warmth of him against her, felt the children kicking. "yes," the harlot said, though she was unsure that she should allow njord so close.
suppose he meant to install himself as equal to she and her wife in their lives?
was it a selfish thought, or pragmatic?
she had a soft spot for him, erzulie supposed, not a weakness but a vulnerability. he had never inspired more in her than trust.
"sing to dem, if you be wantin'"