They were all beautiful—too beautiful. I didn’t even know where to begin. With a frustrated sigh, I left the jewelry behind, raked my fingers through my hair in a half-hearted attempt at grooming, and made my way to Skye’s room.
Her chambers turned out to be identical to mine: an elegant bathroom, hanging bed, and a cluster of sea sponge couches for reclining. Edward was already seated on one of them, while Skye swanned between the bathroom and the central area as she adorned herself in the jewels of Okeanós.
Edward motioned to the empty spot beside him. “Ah, good, you’re here. I’ve been meaning to have a word with you. Skye doesn’t share my fascination with ancient poems.” Skye snorted from the bathroom.
“What is it?” I asked as I sank down next to him.
“Whilst I was in Thálassa, I spent a good deal of time in the library, reading about the prophecy and Kyano, who was, in fact, a distant relative of the Thálassians.” Edward rested his elbows on his knees, studying me closely.
“He’s related to Finn.” I massaged my forehead.
“I came across a poem that suggests Poseidon laid down a curse on Kyano as he did on Manannán, and I cannot help but feel it plays a part in all of this.”
I nodded, chewing on my lip. “Yes, I saw it.”
Edward’s copper brows kicked up. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I’ve been having visions of Manannán—of his life as a man, his rise to God of the Drowned, and the fate that followed.”
Skye swooped over and started pinning flowers into my hair.
“Did the visions reveal what became of Kyano?” Edward leaned forward.
I shook my head. “He just disappeared in a flash of light.”
“How curious.” Edward’s brow furrowed.
Skye chuckled as she linked a necklace around my neck. “I saw how you looked at Finn’s father. For a moment, I thought you might murder him in front of us all.”
“My magic wanted to.” I swallowed.
“I know he was behind your grandmother’s death, but while we’re here, you must keep it in check. It isn’t safe.” Edward wrung his freckled hands.
“It’s not just that . . .” My voice cracked.
Skye paused, fingers tangled in my hair, and looked at me inquisitively.
“He burns Finn... with his lightning. Finn doesn’t like to speak about it, but he’s done it since he was a kid.”
“The scars!” Skye exhaled.
“Good god,” Edward muttered.
I nodded.
“When I last saw Finn—before I returned to Ruadán’s Port—he met me in Therme Skótos for a sort of... date, and he’d just come from his father. The burns were fresh, and they were all over his body. Seeing the king brings all that back.”
Skye observed me with understanding in her dark eyes.
“He also has this new tattoo...” My voice grew quieter.
“The heart upon his chest?” Edward chimed in. “I noticed it as well.”
“I suspect it has something to do with his father, because when I mentioned it, the same shadows passed over his face as when I noticed the scars.”
Skye’s eyes filled with curiosity. “Did you say a heart?”
“Yes.”
