Araes saw red. His nostrils flared with bloodlust as he raised his sword.
“Say another word and I won’t hesitate to cut that vile tongue from your mouth,” Araes seethed. The blade begged for bloodshed in his hand. It cried for violence. He clenched his jaw, keeping his feet rooted to the ground.Tethys needed this confrontation. She’d found her voice, and although he wasn’t sure what drove that courage from her lips, he knew she needed to speak for herself.
“You will never hurt me again, Procyon. Never again,” she said, curling her lip. “Your arrogance has allowed the rebels to slip into my city, slaughter my people, and burn my home to the ground. Go back to Canissa, before your people cause any more destruction.”
Procyon’s nostrils flared, like a bull ready to charge. Araes raised his weapon once more, but a graceful hand cut him short.
“No. No more violence. There’s already been too much. Procyon, go. Sort out your people.Before I’m forced to take action against them.” His goddess’s threat sent shivers down his spine. There she stood in all her glory. The wards surrounding the palace may have evened the playing ground between the two immortals, but in this moment, her power far outshined that of the autumn king’s.
“Fine. I promise you, little bird, you’ll regret this.” Procyon pointed a calloused index finger directly at her chest. “I can feel that little secret of yours growing inside of you. Like vermin. Don’t think for a second that this is over.”
Tethys’s shoulders stiffened beneath the weight of his threat, but she refused to yield.
“We’ll see about that,husband,” she replied, spitting the last word as if it were a rotten bite of fruit.
Procyon, still a serpent ready to strike, retrieved a scroll from his trouser pocket. The ceramic plates of breakfast, now cold and attracting gnats, quivered as he slammed it on the dining table. “A direct message from General Otto. During my meeting with the generals to discuss peace terms, I offered to hand deliver it all the way here. Count your days, Lieutenant. Your time will come, too.”
With that, the god snapped his fingers and disappeared into dust, leaving only the lingering scent of rotten leavesand frosted death.
† † †
It wasn’t until the fresh seaside air cast out every sliver of Procyon’s essence that Tethys could breathe again. She kept her fingers laced tightly together to keep them from trembling. Whether it was fear, rage, or relief that sent her stomach turning, she wasn’t sure, but she’d made a promise to keep fighting, to make her voice known, and when it mattered the most, she’d let her words ring.
Something Procyon said haunted her still, echoing through her head.I can feel that little secret of yours growing inside of you.Had he sensed her pregnancy? Somehow felt the second heartbeat now thrumming through her? It wasn’t possible. She hadn’t even known herself. Nothing about her body felt different. Not her bones. Not her blood. Not even her belly.
“I think I need something a bit stronger than coffee,” Altair said, starting for the cabinette opposite the windows. “Anyone else?”
Tethys shook her head and returned to her seat. Thoughts raced through her, tangling her brain until it was a matted mess. She glanced toward Araes. His expression turned white as he unrolled the scroll and read its contents.
“What is it, Araes?” she asked, watching her lieutenant’s brow furrow.
“They’re new orders,” he whispered, his chest rising slowly with heavy breaths. Tethys braced herself against the long-back chair, feeling the woven matting dig into her thighs.
“What does it say?” she asked, her throat dry.
Araes fixed his gaze upon her with all color drained from his face. Her heart shattered. He didn’t have to read the message from its page. Tethys knew. He was beingcalled home.
“I’m to return to Venia immediately. They’ve located the rebel’s outpost just outside the city. The 15th is to lead the invasion.”
The sky, the ground, even the whole damned ocean, shattered into fragments. Tethys felt the walls cave in around them, and shards of her world, like glass, cut into her skin. The universe, and whatever powers wove the strands of time and fate together, now laughed in her face.
“You can’t go,” she said, her eyes filtering the darkness shrouding her vision. “I forbid it. We’ll write to General Otto. He does not outrank me, not even now. I won’t let them take you away.”
Araes bit his lip. Tethys couldn’t move. Her feet refused to take her to him. To wrap her arms around him and never let go. After everything they’d fought for, everything they’d created together and shared. When she’d finally found a sliver of peace, the world intended on stealing it.
This time, she wouldn’t let it.
“I won’t allow this.”
“You must, sister,” Altair said, turning from the window.
“No,” Tethys replied, her fists white knuckled at her sides.
“If he doesn’t return, they’ll come asking questions. The east and west are already tearing themselves apart. What would happen if a controversy like this” —he gestured between them— “came to light? The Venians would lose faith in their queen, and the treaty is barely hanging on by a thread.”
Tethys knew her older brother was right, but acceptance was a stubborn thing. The future was far less daunting with Araes by her side. How could she possibly face it alone? The little light inside of her blinked as if in agreement.
“Please, Araes. Stay with me,” she whispered, lettingtears fall from her cheeks. Each droplet met hard, varnished wood and scattered on impact. She wondered if she, too, would plummet to some end, fracturing into thousands of pieces. Or maybe she’d already broken.
