“As you wish it, my queen,” he murmured, shrugging her retort away.
Eos above, he was insufferable.
To think she’d almost given him everything. He’d proven in the time since they’d been home from their travels that he was nothing more than an empty carcass in a soldier’s uniform. He was a coward, hiding behind the so-called honor and discipline of his training. Yet, she still fought an ever constant battle with her eyes as they begged to look upon him.
When all was silent save for the click of the white mares that towed their chariot through the city, she risked a glance. Stubble speckled the cut of his jawline and his eyes were cloudy with exhaustion. What was it that’d stolen his sleep? Her heart suggested that perhaps it was the thought of their kiss. The thoughts of her reeling and undone for him. She silenced that idea before it could amplify. There was far too much more that took property in both of their minds.
The rebellion, the orb, the missing children, the prophecy. All of which screeched her name when she closed her eyes to sleep. She could only assume he, too, felt the terror of their deafening cries. Or maybe it was memories that stole from him in those midnight hours. The visions of his brother. Or of his grief-stricken mother. Maybe his sister.
“When we get to Serpens, please keep close. You’re already a target with the rebels. The Venian border is far from impenetrable if we’ve learned anything from thoseassholes at Ophis’s party.”
She merely nodded a response.
The carriage parked and the footmen above announced their arrival with a single knock. The two hastily exited and made their way through the bustling square.
“Alright, Goddess, we’ve passed four florist carts and none of them have been to your liking. If I knew better, I’d say you’re hiding something from me,” Araes said, reaching for Tethys’s wrist as she crossed the crumbling cobblestone street. The square, although vibrant with vendors, was decrepit from years of neglect and heavy foot traffic. A young, black haired boy snuck a plum from an unsuspecting fruit farmer stacking wooden crates of golden cherries. He slipped through the street before brushing against the flowing, golden fabric of Tethys’s skirts. Tethys tossed a glance over her shoulder before wriggling free from the soldier’s grasp.
“Did I give you leave to touch me, Lieutenant?” she hissed before turning back to kneel beside the boy who was now ruby with panic at not only having been caught, but also coming face to face with the spring queen herself.
“You know, little one, I won’t tell him this time.” She gestured to the farmer still hastily stacking his produce. “But I’d recommend, next time, ensuring no one is watching before slipping that into your pocket,” she mused. The boy gaped at her, bowing stiffly before scurrying through the crowd. She watched as he disappeared into the wriggling sea of people.
“There is a particular florist I’d like to visit,” she snipped, continuing down the street. With each vendor cart they passed, the news of the goddess’s presence spread through the crowd. Either the townspeople would look away, scowling under their tongues, or they’d place their fist across their chest. It was clear how polarized the city had become in the years since the outbreak of war.
Not only that, but Serpens had sunk into itself. As theytraveled further into the belly of the district, wild ivy grew up the townhomes and shops that bordered the square, and dirty-looking children and families trickled out from the dimly lit alleys. The morning mist had burned off with the intense high noon sun now directly overhead, and with it, the veil shrouding the true state of the lowborn district.
“After our journey to Ursae I knew Serpens was in a crippled state, but this…” Tethys whispered, watching a young girl, no older than six, cling to her mother. They both wore stained brown shifts littered with patches. The girl risked a peek at the goddess from the safety of her mother’s skirts and the cords of Tethys’s heart snapped. Her eyes were sunken into the socket. Only a dull gray film remained where the glint of youthful childhood should have been.
Tethys started for her mother, but felt the tug of Araes grasping the side of her gown.
“If you help that mother, they all will come,” he warned.
“So let them. I’m their queen. Am I not responsible for the burdens they carry?” she asked, risking another step.
“Tethys.” Her full name on his lips halted her mid step. “There’s nothing you can do for them right now. Finding the children to end their fear, preventing another outbreak of war to bring their sons home, reestablishing trade routes with Canissa to end their hunger. Those are things you can do, but here and now, what will you offer them? Your blessing? The dress off of your back?”
He was right, but the child and her mother shattered Tethys’s heart into a thousand pieces. She smiled sadly at the woman as they crossed paths.
“There is a hard truth of being a leader. Help who you can and when you can,” he whispered, pulling her back into his orbit. “Now, let’s go before word spreads farther. We don’t want any of the lords on your council to comesniffing if they find out you’ve wandered this far.”
She nodded and continued on. Finally, she spotted the shop Jaide had mentioned in her note. After announcing her intended ball, she had written to Jaide to do some digging. A week later, she’d received a list of names and locations of the families that’d had a child vanish.
Now, they stood outside a florist shop with green shutters and a ratty old flag with a pink pansy embroidered on it floating in the springtime breeze.
“Excuse me, are you Leda?” she asked the red-headed vendor. The woman looked up from the ledger she was scribbling in, her thick, curly hair bouncing with the motion, and nearly leapt off of her stool.
“Goddess, I—Y-yes, I am,” she said, throwing her fist across her chest and kneeling at Tethys’s feet. Tethys knelt beside her, carefully taking the young woman’s hand in hers.
“There’s no need for formalities. I came to speak with you about your daughter. Helen, right?” she said, pulling Leda to her feet. A heavy sadness flashed across the woman’s eyes and she leaned against the floral counter to support her shaking knees. Araes lifted a brow and bit the inside of his cheek, pursing his lips at the goddess.
“H-have they found her?” she asked, turning a heartbreaking shade of grim.
“No. I’m sorry they haven’t found her yet, but I came by to ask you a few questions in hopes of helping the city guards with their investigations,” Tethys said. “Shall we sit?” She gestured to two ripped velvet chairs behind the shop’s counter.
“Oh, how rude of me. Yes. Please, Goddess, my home is yours,” Leda said, following Tethys to the chairs. With Araes guarding the storefront, the two women settled into their seats.
“I’d offer you tea, but I’m afraid we’re fresh out and the vendors are selling canisters for far too high a price,” shesaid, her cheeks blushing with embarrassment.
“Oh, that’s alright. I don’t want to take too much of your time today. I wondered if you could tell me about Helen. What was…isshe like?” Tethys asked, smiling softly at the grieving mother beside her.
