Secondly, she learned that reading the emotions and thoughts he harbored would prove to be more daunting a task than initially expected. His face, as if carved from marble, remained frustratingly expressionless. Not even a hint of annoyance wrinkled his brow as she provoked him. He was as much of a mystery as he’d been upon their introduction.
Finally, upon observing the first two, she realized that he’d be a surprising challenge. She crossed her leg, exposing just a hint of a smooth, pearlescent ankle.
“I’m the Patron of Dawn, soldier. Of course watching the sunrise is a regular occurrence on my agenda. You’ll just have to get used to it, I’m afraid,” she said, smirking as Araes stifled a yawn.
“Yes, just as you, Goddess, will have to adjust to my constant presence,” he said. Tethys grimaced at his subtle, but calculated tone of amusement.
“And if I must tend to myself in the washroom? Will you hand me the tissue?” She scowled, rising to her feet.
“If that is what my lady wishes,” he said, stepping aside as she stormed out.
† † †
When Araes received his new orders from Captain Theos, he had to bite his tongue before he fell very abruptly out of line. Theos towered over the giant of a man as if he were merely a foot or two tall. The commanding officer was huge, with deadly hands that could snap a neck as if itwere as brittle as a dried twig.
If sheer size wasn’t intimidating enough, a deep scar split Theos’s brow. The pink ridge of damaged flesh trailed from his hairline to the center of his cheek. Araes wondered how Theos got it but never gathered the courage to ask.
“This duty is of the utmost importance, Lieutenant. Do you have any questions?” the captain asked. Most of the time, Araes flinched at the sharp bark of an order from Theos’s mouth, but now, he stood tall.
Araes was a soldier. A fighter. He most certainly was not a personal guard dog, regardless of it being the Spring Queen herself.
“You need some time away, Lieutenant. It’s apparent this war left more than a few scars,” Captain Theos said as he handed Araes his orders. Araes flexed his open palm, stifling his agitation before taking the parchment from the commanding officer.
“With all due respect, Captain, I’m fine. I’d prefer to remain at the Western Outpost with my unit,” Araes said, scanning the outpost’s exterior wall. While the war had ended with the union of the eastern and western immortals, tensions were still high. The 15th battalion overtook three rebel camps just this week alone.
Not to mention the lesser villages were left defenseless after the war. No one was sure if the rebels were behind the frequent disappearances of lowborn children or the slaughtered livestock, but regardless, they needed protection now more than ever. The battles lay waste to their already measly defenses, and nobility on either side didn’t seem to care.
Araes and Theos continued their patrol down the outpost’s exterior. The Canissaens did more damage than he’d realized during their last battles. Their makeshift bombs and flaming arrows singed, scorched, and blasted the nearly impenetrable mountain-stone wall dividing the twowarring realms. It was merely pebbles in some spots along its length, crawling with briar patches and vines.
“Araes, look at me,” his captain said, meeting his eyes with a stern gaze and gritted jaw. “It’s not a suggestion. You need some time away. The 15th will be here when you return, fret not.”
Theos was only half right. The 15th battalion lost most of its manpower. They marched from Venia thirty strong. Now, only ten remained. Araes lost more than a few friends to Canissaen steel. How could he possibly return to Venia with his outpost in such a state of ruin? Enyo would’ve never walked away. Not like this.
Araes felt his chest crack. Thoughts of his brother always reopened those wounds. Had he grown the fuck up, maybe he wouldn’t be a lone twin in this world.
“You will pack your bag tonight and leave at dawn. The manor is a three-day ride, at least. Dismissed, Lieutenant.” With that, Theos turned on his heels and disappeared into the keep. Conversation over.
Araes scowled and kicked the gravel at his feet. What a waste. Not only were these orders ridiculous, but he knew what his fellow soldiers would think. He was a coward. That hadn’t changed over the six years since he’d watched from the cliff side as his twin’s cavalry unit took off down the western road without him.
Now he stood watching the goddess of spring herself go to battle with her mortal council.
Sunlight filtered through massive, ancient windows, scattering dust particles in the air. The council chamber was dry with a massive stone table standing at its center. Each council member sat in their traditional robes, the colors depicting the vein of command they maintained. Tethys sat in the head seat with teeth bared like a cornered animal.
“My lady, the grain stores are nearly depleted after the war. We have only a few hundred rounds left for thehorses until the next harvest. I’m not sure it’ll be enough,” Lord Kalos, Keeper of Stores, said. He was a mere skeleton dressed in a straw yellow robe that paled his already sickly complexion.
Maybe, Araes supposed, they kept the windows secured because one brisk morning breeze might blow the old man across the room. He fought the smile curving at the corners of his mouth.
Tethys sighed, looking unpleasantly bored.
“Send riders to Canissa to speak with their Keeper of Stores. We are allied now. My husband will gladly send you the relief you need,” she said. Her tone was bitter, but something still tugged in Araes’s chest. Tethys was beautiful in the most striking of ways. When he first laid eyes on the queen, holy gods, the legends of her beauty didn’t do her justice. His knees almost buckled with the first glance. But she was vicious, too. She reminded him of a sleek, golden cat, unafraid to protract its claws.
“But what of the rebel camps? Our riders risk their lives crossing the border,” Lord Kalos questioned. She shot a glance at the old lord. A permanent frown cast his lips in a thin, ghostly white line along the wrinkles of aging skin.
“I assure you, Lord Kalos, military protection is far from necessary. An emissary between realms is always granted peaceful passage,” she retorted. Araes straightened. Was she a fool?
“And you think these rebels uphold governing maxims? Had you paid attention to General Otto’s latest memorandum, you’d know that our riders cannot just cross the border into the western realm. We’ve yet to find the rebellion leaders. It’s too dangerous. Maybe the general should simplify his reports for you.” The lord’s words brought a few muffled scoffs from the others.
Seated beside Kalos was another wraith of a lord, Drakon. With near translucent flesh, the man’s bones practically glowed in the morning light. He rose on shaking knees and hobbled to the cellarette. Because servants weren’t permitted in the chambers, Drakon, at the mercy of his frail body, retrieved an aged amber bottle of wine from beneath the countertop himself.
