Eric was enjoying the luxuries of this place. Though he had thrived in the dying world, he would never deny himself any of the things that pleased him. He'd become king there, and he'd done it through violence and mercy, hard work and willpower. He had shown the people of New Troy what they could have if they would work for it, and they had worked indeed. He was born to the role.
It didn't hurt that he'd grown up in a time where modern conveniences didn't exist, making it all that much easier to come up with ways to make people happy.
He never did get to take out that bitch Belia though. One of his grander schemes had been to end her as well. He felt like he was not the only one who had been plotting such.
The castle was befitting a king, and big enough to house two of them. Plus two Pams, along with her mutant. And Pastor John. And the lovely creature that his mirror was wed to. They could have had many more and still not run into one another very often.
Eric was sitting in a steaming hot bath, the water silky on his skin due to some bath products he'd thrown in. The room was foggy and smelled like lilies. His eyes were closed.
Even when he heard the faint footfalls entering his private room, Eric did not stir. He knew the sound. Knew who they belonged to. He heard the door of the bathroom open gently, close again. The candles flickered momentarily with the influx of less warm air.
"Baba Yaga." He said, the name dripping lazily off of his tongue. "To what do I owe the honor."