“You are most welcome,” he responded. Tethys scanned his expression for even the slightest of faltering. She clutched the golden fabric draped down her side, waiting. Obscuros’s eyes narrowed as he awaited his daughter’s response.
Tethys opened her mouth to speak, but the words failed her. She hadn’t prepared for such casual conversation. The reminder of his cruelty during a time long passed hindered her thoughts as she scraped for something, anything to say.
Altair interjected with a report from the southern realm, pulling their father’s focus into a trap he unknowingly set. Of course her eldest brother would demand the attention of the evening. He’d done it their entire lives. Tonight would be no different.Perfect.
“Aquilaean shipwrights have discovered an interesting new technology that could further the mortal’s expansion past the continent,” Altair continued. The conversation flowed between her siblings, and she felt smaller than a mouse as she laced her fingers behind her back and sidestepped closer to her mother. There was no room for cowardice now. Innocent lives dangled over the hottest offires, and their thread was rapidly burning away.
“Mother,” she whispered. Phosphora’s cloudy eyes snapped into focus, and Tethys couldn’t help but squirm at the heavy intensity of her gaze.
“Yes, dearest,” Phosphora replied, although it was unknown who she addressed. Tethys took the leap anyway.
“The midnight crocuses are in full bloom tonight, would you care for a stroll through the gardens to see them? I know they’re your favorite,” Tethys asked, taking her mother’s hand.
“That sounds wonderful. Perhaps we’ll run into Astraeus on our way,” she said.
Tethys flinched. The path before her demanded she tread lightly. She danced around hot coals, running the risk of burning her heels at any moment.
“Perhaps, Mother.” Tethys took her hand and the pair slipped down the far edge steps of the dais. Before she could lead her mother through the glass doors to the gardens, however, Polaris grasped her shoulder, ripping her back into the heat of the ballroom.
“Tethys, if Father notices your absence…” she hissed beneath her breath.
“He won’t think anything of it, Polaris, because you’re coming to the gardens with us. He trusts you with Mother. So let us stroll,” Tethys replied.
Polaris clicked her tongue and turned over her shoulder. Altair continued his in-depth discussion of a new rudder shape the shipwrights were testing. Tethys didn’t care about rudders, or the Aquilaean shipwrights for that matter, but in this moment, she was grateful he commanded their father’s attention.
She risked a glance at Procyon. Like a cowering child, he stood beside their older brother, tapping the rim of his chalice with obvious irritation.
Tethys gripped Polaris’s hand and pulled her down thedais steps, leading both women out to the gardens.
“This place truly is magnificent, dearest.” Phosphora’s silvery curls were nearly iridescent in the moonlight beaming from the sky’s apex. Polaris cursed under her breath, but fell in step as they started for the hedge maze.
“It truly is. The gardeners do their jobs well,” Tethys said, gently patting Phosphora’s hand as they crossed a stone footbridge laid over a peacefully gurgling brook.
Phosphora knelt beside the iron gate lining the riverbed and traced a delicate finger across one of the many crocus blooms sprouting along its edge.
Polaris paced across the brook, keeping her eyes fixed on the warm light emulating from the tall glass windows of the manor. At this angle, Tethys could watch heads ebb and flow as the party continued. Obscuros’s jet black hair, pulled neatly into the half bun he always wore, swished as he nodded toward his sons.
“Did you know, Tethys, that these flowers only bloom when the moon and sun are perfectly aligned? Their roots sense the sunlight’s opposite orbit where the bloom reaches for moonlight. The plant achieves perfect balance.” Phosphora brushed an amethyst petal between her index finger and thumb.
“They truly are incredible, Mother,” Tethys said, kneeling beside the primordial woman. “There’s something I’d like to ask you.”
Her lips parted, then shut as she debated her next words. Phosphora plucked a crocus and brought it to her nose.
“Perfect harmony. Just as it should be,” she whispered.
“Mother, I need you to tell me about Vorthal,” Tethys blurted.
Phosphora stilled to a near statuesque halt, the crocus, now dangling between her fingertips.
“Where did you hear that name?” Her mother’s voice sank like a stone on a river’s bed, and suddenly the mistthat fogged her silver eyes cleared, leaving only a brilliant turquoise.
“It’s a long-winded story and we don’t have much time. I know the truth of the Theogony, Mother. Your note in the margin. Everything. Please, tell me of Vorthal,” Tethys pressed. A sliver of guilt struck through her chest from the sharpness of her tone, but time was against them.
“The heir holds the key,” Phosphora said, letting the crocus slip through her fingers. “The key. The key. The key.”
“Mother, what heir? What key?” Tethys asked, grasping her mother’s shoulders.
“The key. The key. The key.” Her voice loudened to a shrill cry in the otherwise silent night. Tethys glanced at Polaris, panic rising in her throat.
