“I’m sure,” Aethra promised, whistling and patting her lap. Whisper crawled onto her and looked up at me with round, brown eyes.
“Alright. I’m not much of a bard, but I’ll do my best.” I closed my eyes, deciding what to tell her. “I remember the last time we were all together like it was yesterday . . .”
13
Seth’s Past
Twenty years ago. . .
My sword flew from my hands and landed in the dirt. I hit the ground with it and found another’s blade pressed to my throat.
“Shame,” Commander Aeacus said. “You almost had me that time.”
The slightest smile twisted his lips. I’d yet to win any of our duels.
Retracting his blade, Aeacus offered me a hand, and I took it. Dusting myself off, I retrieved my sword and sheathed it back on my belt.
Aeacus removed his vulture helm and straightened out his neat black locks. “Lucky for you,” he said, tucking his helm under his arm, “I don’t intend to enter the tournament.”
“Ha.” I wiped the sweat from my brow. “Everyone would quit if you did.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Aeacus chided, smiling. He knew damn well he was the best knight in the country. Spinning his blade, he returned it to its sheath. “Your father wanted to see you once we finished.”
Those words never heralded anything good. Grimacing, I watched my mentor cross the training yard. “What for?”
“I don’t know,” Aeacus admitted. “But you shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
Nodding, I scuffed the dirt from my boots and pulled a cloak around my shoulders. Laying a hand on the door, I hesitated before entering the palace. Onyx walls enclosed me in their shadow, and a blood-red rug trailed the length of the hall. Braziers burned beside every pillar.
A shadow darted out from beside one and fell into step with me. I glanced down at the woman, her pale face illuminated by the dancing flames.
Eris touched her taut bun and knitted her hands at her waist. “Did you win?”
“I never do,” I drawled, looking away.
“Aw. It looked like you almost had him.” She chewed on her thumbnail and lowered her hand.
Something wet brushed my cheek, like mist from a waterfall. My hand came away with a faint smear of blood.
A wound from training, I supposed.
Eris watched me with expectant eyes. Scarlet eyes—like mine and my father’s.
I never knew what to make of my half-sister. Most of my siblings were strangers—Father had sold most of them, or tossed them in an orphanage. Eris spoke with sickeningly sweet words and gazed at me with wide eyes.
She trailed at my heels like a lost puppy and spoke with a timid voice. But around others, she had a cunning grin and sultry words.
“What are you looking at?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said hurriedly. “Ah—” Toying with her sash, she glanced at the archway ahead. “Father wanted to see you. I shouldn’t intrude.”
“That’s probably for the best,” I agreed, offering her a curt nod before stepping through the arch.
My footsteps echoed as I ascended black stone stairs. The throne room was utterly silent. Reaching for the pommel of my sword, I stepped forward into the light.
Nobody was here. Father’s throne, an opulent seat ofonyx stone carved with serpents and hooded with a great cobra head, lay empty. The braziers were dim and cold.
Even when Father was absent, a Hades Knight would patrol this room. Something was wrong.
