Removing the rag from her face, I picked up one of her wrists and gently scrubbed off the dirt. Her mouth warbled, and she bit her lip, holding back tears.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Holding it in will only make you more miserable.”
A rich statement, coming from me.
Breaking, Aethra buried her head in her shaking hands and sobbed. Pulling her close, I tucked her head under my chin and gently stroked her hair.
I wished I could give her what she wanted—set her free from all this and grant her a life she deserved, a life she’d never been allowed. Thinking of the hovel she’d called home, the Guild members who’d extorted her, knowing full well she had nothingand no one . . .
The thought made me furious. But it quickly dimmed into sorrow.
DidIeven know what she wanted? Had I ever bothered to ask?
Aethra sniffed. “I want a house by a lake.” She laughed through her tears. “Know of any cheap plots of land nearby?”
I moved to answer, then froze. How had she known my thoughts?
“Princess . . .” I said carefully. “What made you say that?”
Sniffing, Aethra chuckled. “I don’t know. I just . . . felt like you were going to ask.”
Lowering my brow, I turned away, focusing on something she could never guess.
I called her princess, because that’s what she’d become should we be wed.
Gasping, Aethra ripped from my grip, lost her balance, and nearly tumbled into the fire. Nursing her wound, she peered at me with a guarded expression—the look a woman gave when she’d just learned the depths of a man’s feelings.
“Maiden’s grace, princess,” I said. “You’re apsyche.”
“But . . .” She shook her head. “When did I. . .?”
Magic came from traumatic events. Moments that marked you as extraordinary. Icelus had tortured her so thoroughly that she had been blessed by Psythos.
When I found him, I was going totear him apart.
My exile to the Merchant Isles had come with a solemn vow—I would never again allow those who deserved death to escape with their life.
Least of all those who hurt the people I loved.
“Clothes.” Aethra stood, wandering to Athena. Digging her hands into the saddlebags, she pulled out the bundle I’d stolen for her. Noticing the new outfit came with pants, she looked up at me. “You stole me pants,again?”
“A priestess’ pants, this time.”
A smile bloomed on her lips, and she almost laughed. She shimmied out of her gown, and I turned my back to give her privacy.
“A psyche . . .” she breathed when she finished, returning to myside.
Duathi fashion suited her. The A-line top revealed her delicate collarbone, and the silk skirt, which hugged her curves perfectly, accentuated her figure. My first instinct was to wish I could rip them back off, but then I stared stupidly, thoughts drifting elsewhere.
One of her bottom teeth was crooked, her curls never fell the way she wanted, and I’d overheard her whining about the weird birthmark on her shoulder to Eleos one night at camp. Shewasn’tperfect.
The nobles here tried to make themselves perfection—divinity. I’d fallen for Cassandra because she wasn’t—she was simply herself.
No doubt clouded my mind in that moment. Aethra was the most beautiful woman in the world.
“Seth?” She asked.
“Hm?”
