A man appeared in front of me and he jammed a vial between my lips. The liquid inside was bitter, a cold antidote to the fire racing through my veins. I swallowed it on instinct, even as nausea punched upward and nearly made me retch.
A hand closed around my arm as I swayed, and suddenly Achilles was there, steadying me, his eyes wrecked with devastation as he breathed, “Why?”
I met his gaze, fighting to keep my spine straight. “Because,” I gasped. “If I must become queen by stepping over another woman’s grave … then I would rather rot.” The world reeled, rolling away from me in a dizzy rush, and in that final heartbeat of awareness, Achilles’s face burned in my vision, disbelieving and awestruck.
And then … there was only darkness.
It was like falling into silence. Like being entombed in the dark. Like …
Nothing.
Chapter27
When I woke, it felt like surfacing from beneath the River Styx itself—my lungs dragging in air that didn’t feel like mine, my skin slick with cold sweat, the world blurry at the edges, like a fresh painting left out in the rain.
Gods,I thought.How was I still alive?
“No one knows,” came Anysa’s voice beside me.
I blinked. Had I said that out loud?
I forced my head to turn and saw I was in a room, with her seated at my bedside, eyes tired but focused, curls haloed around her face like she’d paced a hundred circles before I stirred. She offered me a cup of water, and I accepted it with trembling hands, sipping, and grimacing when the coolness brushed my raw throat.
I fought through the thick haze in my head, forcing my eyes to focus. “You’re not … wearing a veil,” I managed.
“We don’t need to anymore! You drankactual poison, Helena. I told you my cautionary tale about trying to impress someone by poisoning yourself. But no, you had to play hero and turn the trial into a tragic ballad the rhapsodes will fight over.”
I took another sip, then slumped back against the pillows. My skin was clammy, and sweat had dried along my collarbone in salt-crusted trails.
But at least the infernal veil was gone.
Roz popped into view, landing on the edge of the bed with a squeak. Before I could react, it scrambled into my lap, pressing its cold nose and whole small body against me in a frenzy. Its fur brushed rough and insistent against my skin as it nuzzled again and again, as though it could burrow straight through and anchor itself to me.
“Aww, I’m alright,” I murmured, stroking its fur reassuringly.
“Your little … whatever it is popped up the second it was just me in the room,” Anysa said dryly. “It hasn’t left your side. Makes me miss my pet goat.”
Roz gave a sharp squeak and leaned forward to sniff at her, almost primly, as though the comparison was beneath it. Its ribbon-tail flicked once, crisp as punctuation.
Anysa laughed under her breath. “Gods, it even looks offended. I’m sorry, little buddy. You’re not the only one trying to recover after what she did.” She shook her head and looked back at me, shifting closer and tucking her knees beneath her, her braid half fallen over one shoulder. “You should’ve seen them after you passed out. The king nearly had an aneurysm. Captain Achilles looked like someone stabbed him in the gut. The High Priestess started muttering in tongues. And me? Oh, I had to pretend I wasn’t going to vomit all over my dress.”
“Menelaus was upset?” I rasped in surprise, my voice still barely audible.
Anysa gave me a look. “Yes, Helena. The king. The guy who wears the fancy clothes and a crown and may or may not be a god? That king.”
I pushed up slightly, heart pounding faster now. “But … why would he—”
“I don’t know,” she said, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Honestly, it was the most emotion I’ve seen from him since we got here.”
I stared at the blanket pooled in my lap in shock. Roz huffed like it didn’t believe it either. I rolled my neck, feeling an ache in every cell of my body. “Then what happened?”
“Well … after you went pale, the king started screaming for the poison master. He sprinted over and shoved some kind of syrupy nightmare down your throat. And then you collapsed. Achilles caught you and laid you down like you might shatter. Helena, you were gray. Gray!”
She wiped a hand across her cheek, even though no tears spilled. “Then they moved you here.”
It was only then that I took in the room. Wool drapes, not linen. Marble floors, not limestone. A full-length mirror with gold leaf crawling across the frame like ivy. An engraved headboard shaped like a laurel wreath. I glanced down and saw someone had put me in a silk robe.
“This isn’t my room,” I murmured, forcing the thought into shape as I tried to piece my surroundings together.
