“Only you know the answer to that question, and you may not know until you see her with your own eyes. Then, your heart will know.”
I lifted my head and Esetta smiled, her eyes gleaming with pride and joy at seeing me. “You saw infinite possibilities. You even saw me as Keisha Skye’s sibling.”
She nodded. Once. Already knowing what I would ask, though I, too, already knew the answer, so I simply stated the truth out loud.
“If I were to end up any other queen’s sibling, I would lose Guillaume.”
She nodded again, reaching up to tuck a wandering strand of hair back from my face. “The Triune Executioner is a prize any queen would kill to win, as I won him for you.”
My jaw tightened and I nodded. “Then I know what I must do.”
She kissed my forehead, her hair gliding around me like a black velvet curtain. Enclosing me in her scent. Her magic. Her love. “My daughter, how I love you. May I ask you to complete one task for me?”
“Always, Mother.”
“In my hair, you carry a golden disk called a Gorgoneion. It bears a likeness to Medusa. I once saw Basilia decades ago, and she wanted it desperately, but I couldn’t give it to her without revealing the truth about who had killed Desideria. See that she receives it, and tell her I would’ve given it to her then, if I could have.”
“It will be done. I love you, Esetta Isador, daughter of the Great One but not the last.”
I opened my eyes, not surprised I found myself floating on my back in the grotto, my own hair over my face, blocking out the world. I let my feet drop to the submerged stones near the bank and stepped out of the pool.
Rustling his wings, Thierry chirped on a branch.
:Thank you, Thierry.:
:Always, my queen.:
I strode back toward my house, every step arming myself. Building my arsenal. My inner fortitude. My determination.
Esetta once told me a queen must make terrible choices to continue her lineage and protect her house.
This is mine. Not the first, and by goddess, it certainly won’t be the last.
GUILLAUME
In times like these,being unable to die was a severe handicap.
My sanity wouldn’t survive losing my queen. Even if she lived as Basilia’s sibling, I was under no disillusionment.
An experienced Triune queen knew the worth of the Executioner’s sword in her court. If Shara was forced to give throat to Basilia, I would no longer be allowed to serve House Isador.
And I couldn’t even kill myself—or ask anyone else—to put me out of my misery.
Like any seasoned soldier, I would pick up my sword and await my orders, no matter what they were. I would fight for my queen until I was forced from her side, whether by astronger queen or the Mother of All. My honor would allow nothing less.
“Well, fuck,” the general said. “That went better than I expected.”
Rik grunted. “She heard our concerns. It’s up to her to decide whether she wants to take the risk or not.”
“Name one queen who’d ever listen to her Blood when her mind’s already set on her course of action,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s between her and the goddess now.”
“Shara Isador,” Nevarre said. “She will listen. Not just to us, but the goddess.”
Though which goddess, I wondered. She Who Is and Was and Always Will Be? Or Scáthach and the Morrigan, both battle goddesses of the dead. Or even Despoina for that matter, one of the most mysterious and unknown goddesses of all.
Or since Shara was going toward the grotto, she might ask the Mother directly. Gaia was the creator of all life, but She was also destruction and death. All of Her creations died to prepare the way for the cycle of life to continue.
Except me, evidently.
