“Yes, yes.” Tyndareus waved her off. “If you really wish to burden yourself, then fine. You’ll be doing me a favor.”
Glancing at the others, I felt a fragile flicker of hope kindle between us.
“But I am keeping the others.” Tyndareus’s words were a fist to my gut.
“I will take all of them, uncle. You said yourself they are not worth the trouble. Let me handle—”
“Donotcommand me,” the king snarled. “You either take the two, or you take none. Decide.”
Something shifted behind Penelope’s eyes, darkening them.
“Very well, uncle,” she whispered.
No, no…
Tyndareus motioned to his men, and they dutifully dragged Melanthius and me to Penelope’s feet. My brother was crying out for Melitta, screaming her name over and over until a guard stuffed a rag down his throat, forcing him to choke on his own silence.
Penelope kept her gaze on the king.
“May I take them away and have them…tidied up, uncle?” she asked stiffly. “They need to be made presentable for the gift-giving ceremony.”
“Once I am finished here. They must first witness the consequences of their actions.”
“Uncle—”
“Do not test me again, girl.” The words had a serrated edge to them, so sharp they shocked Penelope into silence. “Let me make myself very clear. Theonlyreason you are not being punished for your insolence is because of your help in catching these deserters.”
I stared incredulously at Penelope, but she refused to meet my gaze.
“You will watch, too, niece,” Tyndareus added. “Now you are a wife, you must learn how to handle your property. Understood?”
Penelope bowed her head. “Yes, uncle.”
Tyndareus clicked his fingers, and two guards hauled Callias forward.
“No!” I cried. “He’s innocent, I swear it! He had no part in this!”
“Do you think you are the first to try to defy me?” Tyndareus asked as he placed the rod back in the fire. “I know this game, slave, and I know it always requires a rat on the inside. Penelope here discovered yours rather quickly. She’s always been a smart one.”
I turned to Penelope. “What does he mean?”
She said nothing.
“Princess. Help me.” Callias tried to scramble toward her on his knees, but the guards dragged him back. “I beg of you. Let me serve you. Please!”
“Save him,” I cried breathlessly, but Penelope’s gaze remained fixed on the wall ahead, face vacant. “Penelope! Take him, not me. I’m begging you. He doesn’t deserve this. Please, save him—”
A guard grabbed me, his hand smothering my cries as Tyndareus removed the rod from the flames once more.
Seizing Callias by his hair, the king pressed the searing tip into his flesh.
And all I could do was watch as the sound of my friend’s screams tore me apart.
17
My blood swirled in the water like crimson puffs of smoke.
I stared down into the bowl, trying to summon the energy to continue cleaning myself, to scrub those ugly remnants of my butchered hopes and dreams from my skin.
