I glanced at Anysa, the blood draining from my face. She was trying to look so brave. Muttering something beneath her breath. Probably to Artemis, the goddess she always claimed she wished would watch over her. Or maybe to her own stomach, which she used to joke growled like a war drum whenever she was nervous. That morning, she’d made some ridiculous quip about dying with dignity someday—“Or at least,” she’d said, “with my chin up and my breath not smelling like lentils.”
But now her knuckles were white around her skirts. And I could see it, how close she was to crumbling before the poison even reached her lips.
I was frozen where I stood. She wasn’t just the girl whose room shared a wall with mine anymore. She was my friend. My first real friend.
And I was going to kill her.
“It’s okay,” she whispered to me, a crack running through her words. “Just do it.”
A tear slid down my cheek and bile filled my throat. “Bow out,” I whispered to her urgently. “You can’t win if you’re dead anyway!”
She jerked back. “It’s not for sure that it will kill me; I’d rather chance it,” she hissed. “I won’t let them down! At least if I die, they only lose me, not the little that they have!”
My jaw ached from how hard I was clenching my teeth. I would say she was stupid, but we both had that desperation inside us, the one that made youmad … that made you do things that defied logic. We both would do anything to save our people.
I took a deep breath, my fingers still hovering over the cup.
Anysa and I had fallen into step that first night, linked by nothing but proximity. But somehow, between fear and the shared scraps of words we’d given each other through the wall at night, we had become … something more.
She’d made me laugh when laughter felt impossible. She’d loved figs at breakfast and whispered nonsense under her breath when Nomiki and the High Priestess weren’t watching. She braided her hair and mine alike after dinner, her fingers nimble and calming, as if she could pull the anxiousness right out of my scalp.
She was a sister I hadn’t known I needed. And now, her life hung in my hand.
Air abandoned me, leaving my lungs stunned and empty. Tears were dripping onto Anysa’s chest, staining the fabric.
“Give me the cup,” she urged, her voice still shaking.
I finally gripped the chalice, feeling like something had overtaken my limbs. I didn’t want this power. Not over her. Not over anyone. This wasn’t what a queen should be. Queens were supposed to protect. To defend. And yet here I was … being forced to kill her.
I couldn’t do it.
Gods help me, I couldn’t.
I loved her. Not in the grand, epic way songs were written about, but in the real, human way that meant I would not trade her for a crown.
I’d thought there wasn’t a line I wouldn’t cross for my village. Evidently, I’d been wrong—I’d found it. I would gladly give upmylife for Amyklai … but I wouldn’t give up hers.
No matter what it meant.
The priestess was watching me closely, a frown stretching at her mouth as I delayed. My time was up.
“No,” I said finally, releasing the chalice from my grasp.
The priestess’s head snapped toward me. “What did you say?”
I met her eyes. “No,” I repeated, my voice surprisingly steady.
Gasps tore through the chamber, a collective breath sucked from the room. Faces turned, murmurs stirred the air. Around the king, his court leaned forward, their lips gaping open like hungry fish. And beyond them, half shadowed by the towering columns, Achilles’s gaze was locked with mine.
His shoulders had dropped, just slightly, and a flicker of something soft and unguarded sparked in his eyes—hope, maybe, or something even more dangerous. He thought I was choosing him. That this act of rebellion, of impossible defiance, was forus.
I’m sorry, I thought again. That was all I seemed to be able to say to him of late.
“I will not choose another woman’s doom,” I said, my voice catching on the words even as the decision solidified inside me like cooling bronze.
The priestess turned abruptly, her gaze locking onto me with predatory precision. Her gold-cuffed arms stilled at her sides, and something in her posture shifted in barely veiled satisfaction. Her mouth curved, not quite a smile, but the ghost of one, like a song she’d been waiting to sing had finally reached its chorus. She’d wanted me gone since the beginning and now she was getting her wish.
“You dare defy the Trial?” the High Priestess hissed, her voice lashing through the air. “You shame our king with your cowardice.”
