“The city folk call this mountain their heart. My sister’s temple is carved into the hillside and extends for miles beneath its peak. It’s simply breathtaking,” she said, following the jagged angles of the mountain as it erected into the wintry sky. Outside, amethyst flags, embroidered with a four-pointed star, billowed in the arctic winds that whipped through the city. Tethys supposed the slightly disheveled look unique to Ursaean city folk was a result of these frigid blasts. Even now, she witnessed a pink-nosed city guard attempting to secure his fur overcoat against its wrath.
“I hope you brought a thick enough cloak. A little thing like you might get swept away in that wind,” Araes mused.
“Lieutenant, I would advise you not to refer to your queen as ‘a little thing’ ever again,” Tethys said, her lip curling with amusement. The soldier swallowed hard, his cheeks reddening. Clearly, he’d let his guard down, beingso far from his duty station.
“I only speak the truth, my lady,” he chuckled, taking a sip from his water skin.
“Well, good thing my husband is so dense. How could I possibly get wisped away with arms like those to keep me grounded?” Tethys grinned, reveling in this moment of casual freedom. Araes coughed, nearly choking on the water now sloshing down his throat.
“My wife jests,” he replied, grinning. “I’d begun to think you incapable of such things.”
The word on his lips sent a pulse of heat through her. Each consonant was more delicious than the last. Tethys felt her body clench around the word, as if it were a secret far too scandalous for the daylight. Thank the gods night had fallen.
“There are many things you don’t know me capable of, husband,” Tethys said, repeating the phrase Araes once offered her.
Yes, she’d left a piece of herself in Venia, but maybe their travels weren’t just to gather information. Maybe she’d allow herself the freedom of this new persona. The weight of her crown was miles away. Here and now, amidst the snowfall and redwood, she could simply be a woman. A mortal. She took a breath. The air within the chariot house wasn’t stifling or stale as it had been in Canissa. It was light and fresh, like that of a vast grassy field or stroll through the gardens.
There was that damned tension between them again. She fidgeted against his blazing amber eyes, now locked on hers. Every inch of space between them felt like too much. A bead of sweat traced her spine, these traitorous feelings slammed against her chest, knocking dust from the walls she’d built there.
“We’ve arrived, my lady,” the driver said from outside, drawing the horses to a halt. The carriage jerked forward with an abrupt stop. Araes retrieved the folded tunic andtrousers Jaide delivered before they’d left Venia and shuffled out of his uniform. It took every bit of strength to keep her damned eyes on the velveteen cushion as he pulled off his linen undershirt and pants.
“Careful Goddess, you might singe the velvet with that stare of yours,” Araes mused, securing the last silver button in place.
Tethys muttered under her breath. “Unlike the brutes of the 15th, I prefer to maintain some level of modesty, Lieutenant,” she countered, twisting her curls into a bun. “Now, if you don’t mind.”
“As my wife commands.” Araes covered his eyes with a palm, his lip curled into a smirk. Tethys secretly hoped she’d catch him stealing a glance or two as she changed. Although he’d seen the goddess exposed so many times before, it felt different now. More intimate. More deliberate.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked him, tucking the orb beneath the folds of her furs.
“Are you?” he replied.
They climbed the mountainous steps to the temple’s entrance, passing torches with flames whipping in the high winds of the oncoming cold front. The moon, like a gleaming guardian, washed the snow-covered pass in silvery light, expelling the shadows that lurked in each stone crevice and crack along the steps. Tethys shivered as they ascended. How the city folk could traverse such excruciating temperatures every damned day she would never understand.
Finally, chilled to the bone and exhausted from the climb, they reached the temple’s entrance. The white marble exterior jutted from the mountain in sharp contrast to the black, rocky earth. Boulders littered the small plateau, providing some relief from the jagged mountain side slope and the frozen winds howling through the fjord. Two city guards stood watch at the grand wooden doors markingthe temple’s entrance.
“We’re here to make an offering to the goddess,” Tethys said, her voice nearly drowned by the shrill whistle of the approaching blizzard.
“Make it quick, storm’s coming through and you’ll be stranded up here till morning when it hits,” the guard said, stepping aside to let them pass.
“Thank you, sir.” Tethys dipped her chin, shuddering as the cold licked across her wind burnt cheeks. With Araes in tow, she entered the temple and the instant relief from the northern elements nearly brought her to her knees. The torch sconces mounted to the walls of the vestibule sent flickering light across each obsidian statue of her sister. Personally, the sheer number of Polaris carvings felt a bit like overkill, but the city folk did as they pleased, and they cherished their patron.
Judging by the glaze now watering Araes’s widened eyes, he felt differently. The Temple of Polaris was breathtaking, especially the sheen of smooth obsidian tiles beneath their feet.
“Good gods,” Araes said, tilting his chin to inspect the multi-story high ceiling.
“Wait until you see the archives,” Tethys whispered.
She’d only been to the archives once before, when she was just shy of nineteen and their family attended Festival.
Tethys had nearly fallen to her knees then, too, when she looked upon the cavernous space filled with row after row of books. She could’ve spent the rest of her immortal life there, escaping in the pages of leather-bound fables.
Polaris was the same way, always with her nose in a book. Tethys supposed that’s why they’d gotten along so well as children. The two were simply content cozying up by the roaring fire in their childhood home and silently escaping into the stories they’d read.
After ensuring no guards were present, she guided Araes through the hidden passageway and the two plungedinto the depths of the mountain. The archives were drenched in golden light from the various iron chandeliers that hung nearly four stories above them. For being so far beneath the mountain’s peak, the air didn’t feel stale or smell earthy. Only the scent of leather and aging pages wafted in the vast space.
For a heartbeat, Tethys felt homesick.
Araes jaw hung loosely as he took it all in. Tethys was sure he’d never experienced something so grand as this. Very few mortals had. Polaris kept a handful of scribes and archivists on her staff, but other than that, the archives were off limits to the city folk. Information on everything from ancient fables, to deadly poisons, to Ursaean financial ledgers was housed here. It was simply too dangerous to risk the right information falling into the wrong hands.
