“Neversay that again.”
Snickering, Percy stared at the open coffin and lowered his voice. “Aethra told me about . . . I mean, I’m not a psyche, but . . . I understand why you did what you did.”
“Price of being chthonic, I suppose.” I looked down. “I wanted to tear him limb from limb, and nothing was going to stop me.” Raising my eyes, I pushed off the wall. “We have to be flawless at this ball. No more mistakes.”
“Look at you, being all serious.” Percy tilted his head. “So, should we keep calling you Seth? Or would you prefer Set?”
“They’re close enough to each other.”
“In theory, but not in practice,” Percy insisted, folding his arms. “Who named you?”
“Father.” I looked down. “Set is an old name, from my Mother’s country. It means ‘disaster.’”
“I take it he never meant to have a legitimate male heir.”
“No.”
“Then we’ll call you Seth,” Percy decided. “I think you were glad when that lady misheard your name.”
He was right. Lifting my head, I smiled. “Seth it is, then.”
Percy punched my shoulder. “Go see your girl. Eleos mentioned something aboutgroveling?”
He squeezed my arm and turned to leave.
“Wait,” I called. “How, exactly?”
“How do you grovel? I’ve done it once before.” Percy looked up wistfully. “It involved several bundles of flowers, a ten-page ballad, and singing outside her window at night.”
“I’m not singing.”
“Then there’s nothing I can do for you,” Percy said theatrically. “May the death she grants you be swift.” Spinning on his heel, he marched out the door.
Sighing, I rubbed the bridge of my nose. What was equal and opposite topoisoning? Leaving the gloomy chamber behind, I searched for Aethra.
She sat on a bench in a busy hall, poring over a map spread across her lap. Her head snapped up as I approached, and she reached out, tracing my deep neckline with her finger.
“Percy has great taste,” she said, admiring the silk tunic. “I could get used to you running around in that.” She tutted. “What are you wearing to the ball? Not that, I hope.”
“I thought you liked it?” I said, looking down. This outfit was already too gaudy for me, with its embroidered cloak and golden collar.
“I do. But the king wears hisfinestto meetings with the enemy.” She returned to her map. “Percy and I will find you something, don’t worry.”
“Listen.” I sat beside her. “I don’t want to let Eris and her ilk know about us. You should keep your distance from me during the ball.”
“What? But—”
“We haven’t won yet. The last thing I want is to announce to the world that you’re my weakness.”
Disappointment flared in her eyes, and she looked away. “Alright . . .”
Cupping her cheek, I turned her back to me. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke.”
“Considering the circumstances, I don’t blame you.”
She didn’t mean her words. Nor did she meet my eye.
Did she regret giving herself to me?
