Maybe they’d marry beneath the Lover’s Pillars, as every mortal couple does.
Maybe there’d be a blonde-haired boy with depthless golden eyes chasing geese through the fields.
Tethys squeezed her eyes shut and escaped to that world. Her visions were interrupted, however, by the abrupt scratch of instruments stopping. When she opened her eyes again, standing in the room’s entrance, were her mother and father. Behind them stood Altair and Polaris.
Chapter 41
The once-lively crowd of dancers fell silent, their gazes fixed to the stone tile floor as they parted to make way for the immortal family. Crucis lurked in the lingering shadows that slid across the floor like the hem of Obscuros’s cloak.
“Father…I must admit, I’m surprised to see you,” Tethys said with a tremble in her voice.
“I received an invitation, did I not?” he asked, his voice commanding the room. Apprehension hung like a dark mist in the air as he took a seat upon Tethys’s throne. His hands swallowed the golden curve of the armrests and his shoulders reached well above the throne’s backrest.
“Please, continue with your festivities,” he proclaimed, gesturing for the musicians to resume their song. Someone cleared their throat in the crowd as they picked up their instruments. Their cacophony of fumbling hands and frantic strings transitioned to a smooth, airy melody as the dancers filled the space once more.
“Tethys, my dear, I’m thrilled to see you,” Phosphorasaid, brushing past the goddess to stand beside her husband. Her voice was soft like a meandering forest brook. Tethys wanted to wrap herself in its tendrils, safe from the harsh reality of the world.
“As am I, Mother.” Tethys bowed low. Phosphora’s wild curls twisted around her body, hanging well below her hips. It wasn’t often these days for her mother to be lucid. The small bursts of normalcy were far and few, but upon every one, Tethys felt a crack of hope penetrate the shield of low expectation she built. The primordial queen smiled softly with clouded eyes.
Obscuros laced his fingers through his wife’s and delicately patted the back of her hand—their Elytherian rings glinted against one another in the candlelight. The primordial lovers were bonded by the most sacred of vows—the Elythera. Performed only twice since the beginning of time— first between Eos and Astraeus, then between Phosphora and Obscuros, the ceremony was an ancient ritual. To exchange the sacred vows was to share a piece of one’s soul with another. In doing so, it tethered one partner to the other. What that truly meant, only those who’d completed the rites knew.
Tethys had learned the rites in her lessons with Euda, and, as a child, often dreamed of one day performing the Elythera with another. But it was merely a fairytale now, doused in juvenile wonder. She sucked in a breath, feeling the weight of Obscuros’s gaze press into her.
“Dearest, where is Eos?” Phosphora asked, scanning the crowd of cautious dancers.
Obscuros stiffened, a hint of sadness filtering through his stone curtain. He opened his mouth to speak but paused. His silence was a crossroad in which one direction followed a brutal truth and one a cushioned fairytale.
“She has yet to arrive, Mother,” Polaris interjected, joining their parents on the dais. The night goddess motioned for a waiter and retrieved a chalice of wine from histray.
“Oh, that’s a shame. I’d like to tell her the big news,” Phosphora said. Her voice floated above them, as if she were worlds away. Tethys wondered if, perhaps, that was for the best. It was brutally harsh down here on the ground.
Obscuros mouthed a thank you to his favorite daughter and wiped the vulnerability he unknowingly showed.
“What big news, my light?” Obscuros asked, tucking a loose curl behind Phosphora’s ear. Her midnight skin against his bleached white complexion was a beautiful contradiction in the flickering chandelier light.
“The pool of starlight flows again,” she whispered.
“We’ll tell her the news later, love. Let us focus on the celebration.” Obscuros sighed and kissed his wife on the forehead. “What is the status of the rebellion leaders, Procyon?”
In a flash, the cold, commanding ruler returned.
“Well, Father, I’ve located a mortal who knows where their base camp is, but I have yet to question him directly,” Procyon said, puffing his chest. Tethys scoffed under her breath and stepped beside her sister.
“So, in other words, you’ve yet to gain control of your realm,” Obscuros replied, keeping his eyes focused on the crowd.
“Well, I…” he began. Obscuros raised his palm, stripping the rest of Procyon’s words from his lips.
“It would seem your priorities may be misaligned, then. On the morrow, youwillquestion the mortal, and youwillfind the rebellion leaders. It will be problematic for you if I am forced to get involved. Are we clear?”
Procyon swallowed the remaining words and nodded. “Clear as day.”
Tethys couldn’t help but find Procyon’s humiliation so deliciously satisfying. The man he became in the presence of their father was far different from the one he so oftenstrived to be. The truth of his colors shown through in the face of darkness. The tension between father and son was as thick as smog.
“It seems, baby brother, there’s much to be learned,” Altair chuckled, patting his younger brother’s back.
Tethys fought back the widest of grins. With the attention off of her for a moment, she glanced at her lieutenant from across the ballroom. His eyes remained fixed on her and nodded slowly. She returned the gesture and sucked in a breath.
“Father, I’m most grateful you’ve come to celebrate my first Ostara as queen,” she said. While Tethys truly was taken aback at the accepted invitations, she watched her father’s features with an unbreakable concentration.
