My brow rose in confusion. “At the front?”
“Let Sidon see Sparta’s superiority. Starting with its queen,” Menelaus declared. “Let them look upon her and know the power of my crown.”
Achilles stepped forward immediately. “Your Majesty, it is unsafe. She should remain in her quarters.”
Menelaus fixed him with a hard look. “Are you questioning me?”
“She is the queen,” Achilles growled. “A symbol, yes, but not one to throw before enemy archers.”
The king’s mouth curled into something cruel. “She ismine. I will place her where I choose. Captain, once again I’m having to remind you of your place. Do not make me repeat it again. Your defiance displeases me.”
A flicker of something, rage or guilt, or both, passed over Achilles’s face. But he bowed low, every line of his body rigid with restraint as he acquiesced to the king.
My glare cut to Achilles, searing, and for the briefest moment his shoulders twitched as if struck.
Frustrated, I tore my gaze away and stepped forward. “It’s fine. I will go.”
Menelaus’s lips curved. “Of course you will. As though you had a choice.”
A truer sentence had never been spoken. For a moment, I envisioned Roz bursting from beneath my cloak, its ribbon-tail unfurling as its small muzzle split into something vast and terrible as it lunged for the king’s throat.
But Roz only pressed closer against my side, silent and content. It gave no sign of sharing my fury, no flicker of menace—only the indifference of a creature more interested in warmth than in kings or crowns.
Achilles’s head snapped up. Our eyes locked.I’m sorry, his gaze seemed to beg.
I bit down hard on the urge to answer it. His apologies were growing old.
But so was everything about Menelaus, including the fact that the king who had once supposedly cast out gods seemed satisfied to step back and have the rest of us fight his war.
The crew parted like waves as I walked to the prow. My steps lagged, heavy as lead, but I lifted my chin. If I was to be a symbol, then I would look the part.
The wind rose without warning, a chill whispering over my skin, crawling like frost up the back of my neck. It wasn’t just cold. It carried that faint tang of Theron’s magic. It felt … unnatural.
Wrong.
My breath hitched and I glanced sideways, furious. Was he really trying to use his magic on me again?
Theron stood a few paces away, his arms crossed, one sandal braced on a coil of rope. He was watching the coast with an expression that could be described as bored. Not cautious. Not tense. Just endlessly, insultingly bored.
He caught me staring and raised a brow. “Something bothering you, Your Majesty?”
“Did you do something?” I muttered, not wanting Menelaus to hear.
“Why? Do you feel something?” he said mockingly. “Maybe the sheer thrill of being objectified by a murderous monarch?”
I scoffed, wishing I’d plunged my dagger into his chest when I had the chance, and then I turned my attention back to the wall of soldiers in the distance.
Menelaus’s voice thundered across the deck. “Look well, Sidon!” he roared, his voice carrying across the air, assisted no doubt by Theron’s power. “Behold Sparta’s queen—fairer than your moon-born whores, brighter than anything your land possesses! Let your soldiers see the strength of Sparta, clothed in beauty you will never match!”
The ship creaked around us, sails groaning overhead, and the red waves slapped the hull with rhythmic finality. Behind me, the soldiers readied themselves.
A sound rose from the cliffs. Low and resonant, it was a long mournful call blown through a massive conch, its cry swelling as though the sea itself had been given a voice. When it stilled, a figure stepped forward at the crown of the wall.
His silver cloak streamed in the sea wind, light against the stone, his braids glinting. He lifted the shell once more, and when he spoke into it, his voice boomed across the water.
“Sparta,” he called, “hear me. Sidon has no quarrel with you. You strike without cause, without provocation. You bring your bloodlust to our shores, when there is no need. We have already bowed to you.”
His words rolled over the waves.
