Siduri stared into Tammuz's intense eyes, her trembling hand pressed against her mouth in utter disgust by the kiss she just recieved. Her teary gaze reflected betrayal and injustice she had to just endure at the hands of her own brother.
"Siduri, my sister, please….permit me explain—"
And before Tammuz could utter any word, Siduri struck hard across the face. The sharp sound of her palm making contact with his cheek echoed loudly through the grand hall, her fury equivalent to that of women at Ishtarion.
"Tell me why?!" she demanded, her voice cracking as she sought an answer. How could her stepbrother, someone she had trusted, commit such a heinous act—one that would lead them both to Kigal, the dark underworld.
The sacred texts forbade indulging in sexual sins between siblings as a law decreed by the older descendants of the six planetary bodies.
—As illustrated in The Ancestral Book Of Fate (Section 0001), by the God Of Dreams
"Is this who you truly are?" she asked, her voice heavy with a sense of dispair, something she had never felt in her life.
With his head bowed in shame, Tammuz stood silent for a long moment, as if struggling to find the right words, not having accountability for his sins. Then, summoning all his courage, he grabbed Siduri's arm, his grip force being so strong it was enough to chill Siduri to the core.
"That's because I'm greatly in love with you," he said with unflinching resolve. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
Siduri's eyes widened in shock, her confusion deepening. Tammuz pressed on, his words spilling out with fervor. "As a child, I heard endless tales about the princess of Dumuzi-Four. They spoke of your grace, your unmatched beauty. But it wasn't until I saw your portrait that I realized their words fell short. You were more than I had ever dreamed, more than I ever thought possible."
A single tear slid down Siduri's cheek as her heart grew heavier. The injustice of his confession, the weight of his actions, was too much for her to bear. Overwhelmed, she acted instinctively, striking him once again. The force of the slap broke his grip on her arm.
"I can't even begin to understand why you would act this way," she said, her voice firm and resolute. "I am leaving for the banquet, and I intend to forget this ever happened. But hear me clearly, Tammuz: never try such again."
With that, Siduri turned and stormed out, leaving Tammuz standing alone in the empty hall, returning back to the banquet. He watched her retreating figure in silence, the sting of her words and her strikes still fresh.
Moments later, Sin-Magir appeared beside him. "Was the plan successful?" Tammuz asked, his voice calm, as if his earlier emotional confession had been nothing but an act. Sin-Magir nodded wordlessly, and a sly, mischievous smile crept across Tammuz's lips. Together, the two brothers turned and left the hall.
Unbeknownst to them, Samsara entered the hall just as they exited. She had been searching for Siduri and caught a fleeting glimpse of the two brothers as they disappeared into the shadows.
After the lively dances and songs displayed and performed before the new King and Queen of Fourth Dumuzi and the departure of the guests, the royal couple retired to their bedroom, basking in the joy of their new life together. Nanshe and Mardok laid on top of each other, sharing a passionate kiss, their lips meeting tenderly as if the word outside ceased to exist.
Their kiss broke, and their gazes locked. A soft smile dragged on Nanshe's lips, mirrored by Mardok's. "Tell me something, my lord," she began, her voice light and playful. "When did you become so skilled at what you do?"
King Mardok looked momentarily puzzled, unsure of what his wife was trying to imply. But as the meaning behind her words dawned on him, his confusion gave way to amusement. "Flattered, I'll give you that," he replied with a grin. Then, with a sincere tone, he answered her question honestly. "I don't think I've achieved anything remarkable yet. But with you by my side, I feel like I can accomplish great things."
Nanshe's smile widened, her face glowing with affection. Their lips met once more, the passion between them deepening to an extreme level, but just as the mood became more intimate, a series of soft knocks echoed through the room.
Nanshe pulled back slightly, a mischievous look in her eyes. It seemed she already knew who was at the door.
"My lord, it is your humble servant, Nidaba," a voice called from outside.
Mardok heaved a sigh, his tone shifting as he addressed the sudden interruption. "What is the reason for your visit to my chambers?" he asked.
The voice of Slave Mother Nidaba replied politely, "I bring the King's favorite snack, courtesy of Princess Ebonveil. She was concerned, as she believes her father, the King hasn't eaten properly."
Mardok exhaled deeply, glancing at Nanshe, who nodded in agreement for the door to be opened. As Mardok began to rise from the bed, Nanshe placed a hand on his chest, gently urging him to stay. "I'll get it," she said, standing up and walking gracefully toward the door, Mardok watched her from behind, his eyes darted to her behind.
Unlocking it, Nanshe was standing face to face with Nidaba who was waiting with a wooden box wrapped in a green sheet. As King Mardok saw it he remembered green was Siduri's favorite color, so he knew it was definitely her.
"Give it here, " Nanshe said kindly, extending her hand. Nidaba handed over the box with a slight bow before retreating without a word.
Closing the door behind her, Nanshe turned and carried the box to the small table beside the bed. "What's in the box?", she asked curiously, knowing only Mardok would know aof his favorite snack.
Mardok sat up, a proud smile on his face. "What is inside that box was something Tashmetu used to prepare for me before I went on a trip to the other planets," he said proudly. "It never had a name but it looked like chocolate, but a special spice was added to it, giving it a creamy flavor,"
Nanshe mirrored his expression, smilling in the same manner, but this was just a fluke as she was already jealous of his late wife despite being dead.
Mardok, however, seemed uninterested. He rose from the bed, his eyes fixed solely on Nanshe. "Anyways, leave it," he murmured, stepping closer and wrapping an arm around her waist, slowly striping her of her clothes. "The box is not what I need right now."
He leaned in, intending to resume their romantic moment, but Nanshe playfully stopped him with a single finger pressed lightly to his lips. Her expression softened with concern. "But my lord," she said, her voice filled with gentle insistence, "the servant mentioned you haven't eaten anything since the banquet."
"Oh, please," Mardok replied in a dismissive manner, clearly uninterested in eating anything this night. "There is no need for you to worry about me. I'll be fine."
Despite the King's stubbornness, Nanshe was resolute. Her expression softened, but her tone left no room for any subtle argument.
"I'm sorry, my lord, but I cannot let you slumber on an empty stomach," she said firmly.
Mardok groaned in mild frustration as Nanshe gestured toward the box. "The box my lord," she insisted with an unyielding grin.
Reluctantly, Mardok let his arm fall away from her waist, his hold on her breaking as he turned toward the box on the table. With a heavy sigh, he approached it, his reluctance apparent in his every movement.
The next morning, a servant made her way to the King's chambers, repeating the customary ritual of knocking on the door ten times. It was the standard protocol for all lower servants. However, there was no response from within. The only sign of life—or lack thereof—was the cold breeze slipping through the door, which was slightly ajar.
Perplexed yet intrigued, the servant hesitated for a moment before pressing her hand against the door and pushing it open. The sight inside stopped her dead in her tracks. The tray she carried wobbled in her trembling hands before slipping from her grip, its contents scattering across the floor. Her hand flew to her mouth, but it couldn't stop the bile rising in her throat. She gagged and then vomited violently, the sound echoing in the silence of the chamber.
Her scream pierced the air, sharp and shrill, as her body shook with terror. Before her lay a gruesome scene—one she could never have prepared for.
The King's lifeless body rested on the bed, his once-proud figure now horrifyingly disfigured. His skin had turned a ghastly shade of blue, as though he had consumed something deadly. Worse still, his throat and stomach had been brutally slashed open, revealing his lungs and entrails in a grotesque display of violence.
Hearing the commotion, Samsara, who was nearby, rushed to the scene. She burst into the room, her heart pounding with dread. As her eyes fell upon the horror, her mind struggled to comprehend what she was seeing. A guttural scream escaped her lips, raw and filled with despair, as her sanity teetered on the edge.
Siduri who was still in her chambers asleep, awakened after hearing the entire commotion outside. She coughed loudly as a she breathed in a foul smell, she stood from her bed, feeling something wet on her skin.
"Why is my skin so wet?," she mentioned, glancing down at her nightwear only to be greeted with red stains.