“Euthymia,” she answered shortly. “I’ve heard rumors you’ve charmed the prince himself.” Her eyes flicked up and down my body. “I can’t imagine how.”
Uncertainty struck me in the gut. Gods, howhadI charmed Seth? I was worthless, a nobody, and nothing special to look at.
What had come over me? I hadn’t thought such things in weeks.
Eleos’ eyes darkened. “You’re a psyche.”
Euthymia smiled faintly. I pressed a hand to my stomach, realizing what had happened. She’d found my weak spotinstantlyand exploited it.
“Only women consumed by envy make such petty jabs,” Eleos shot back. “Haimyx would gladly replace you with her.”
“You know nothing at all, if you believe that.” Euthymia smirked. “Enjoy the ball.” Lifting her skirt, she waltzed away.
Shaking off the emotions she’d forced on me, I stood. The insecurities lingered.
Seth could do so much better than me.
“No, he couldn’t,” Eleos said quietly. “Put up your walls.”
Nodding, I concentrated on shielding my thoughts.
A collective gasp tore across the room, and the clusters of chattering nobles hushed. All turned toward the entrance, ripping their nosy eyes from us.
A prince, agod, stood in the doorway, flanked by his two guards. With a confident stride, he entered the ballroom, meeting their gazes with a smirk.
Prince Set had arrived.
31
Eleos
The emotions around the ballroom struck me in a cacophony the moment Seth entered the room. Closing my eyes, I fought to make sense of the din.
Three separate opinions circulated through the noble crowd.
Some watched with palpable excitement—the upstart prince had returned, promising the following days would be more interesting than usual. Boredom clung to their background thoughts—immortality had become mundane.
Others watched him with trepidation. They enjoyed the status quo and feared he would disrupt their lives. It was not a deep fear—they no more believed their country could be changed than Seth did.
But a few danced back in terror. Seth was Ma’at’s only child. Haimyx would slaughter them —no,worse—should harm befall the prince on their watch.
Useful. Aeacus had been speaking the truth, after all.
Haimyx had one weak spot: Seth.
“El,” Phaedrus called through our link. “We have an opening. Hurry.”
Taking Aethra’s hand, I led her through the dance floor,clinging to the outskirts to avoid drawing attention. Phaedrus loitered idly near a northern door. Servants constantly came and went, but the guard standing nearby had stepped forward to keep an eye on the prince.
A young woman burst through the door, carrying a tray of wine. Phaedrus grabbed the doorknob as she passed and slipped inside.
I pushed Aethra ahead of me, watching the guard’s back until the door swung closed behind us.
A few servants stopped to stare at the intruders but didn’t dare protest our presence. They must’ve thought us nobles. Phaedrus paused at the end of the cramped hall and peered around the corner before waving us forward.
We emerged in an impressive corridor with high vaulted ceilings. Dozens of statues lined the walls. Ma’at’s ancestors, perhaps? Each bore a unique pair of wings and held aloft scales of judgment. Aethra bumped into my back as we hurried down the hall. I glanced behind me to see her eyes glued to the statues, marveling at each’s unique features.
She’d done the same when I’d taken her to the chamber of clerics in Therapne—pausing to admire the beauty of the murals despite the danger we faced. Throughout our journey across the Merchant Isles, I’d caught her admiring the wildflowers growing in the fields.
