The soldiers watched the whole time, bored and grinning. I asked for medicine, even just cloth and salt, but they said she was getting just enough to live and not anything more. So I cleaned her wounds the best I could with a bit of wine, and I whispered that you would make this right.
My chest constricted as the words blurred on the page. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the memory from clawing its way forward … the square, the dust rising in the heat, the wet crack of the whip splitting the air. Thalessa’s back matted with blood as we were all forced to watch.
The way her eyes had found mine then, wide and shining with something between bravery and a plea.
I pressed the letter to my chest, as if the pressure could stop the ache spreading through it. Calismae’s words still rang in my head—you would make this right.
Gods help me, I intended to. I forced myself to keep reading.
I hesitate to tell you this, to make the pressure on you greater. But I must. The Goutas’s girl died last night.
They think she ate bad grain, or maybe it was the dried grass her mother had tried to mix in with it to make it heartier. It happened very quickly, but it wasn’t a kind death.
I thought you should know.
Roz crept higher onto my lap as I began to weep, twining its tail lightly around my wrist as if to tether me there, to keep me from unraveling. Its pale eyes glowed up at me, the weight of its gaze saying what no words could.
You have to win, Helena.
I don’t care what they’re making you do, you must save us.
If there’s still an Amyklai left to save.
—Calismae
I stared at the ink until the letters were smeared from my tears. Until I could feel the words burrow into my chest like nails.
I wasn’t winning though. I was failing. Calismae had instructed me on all the things I would need to win … except for this. Sensuality had been a difficult thing for an old woman to teach … and she’d thought I would have my face.
Hetairis rolled her eyes every time I moved. She laughed when I danced. Mocked when I kissed the air instead of claiming it. My beauty made men trip over their feet—but here, under my veil, it meant nothing if I couldn’t use it to command, to conquer, to seduce.
This trial felt like a performance I couldn’t get right. And all I had to show for it were bruises on my pride and the sick twist of shame in my stomach.
Amyklai was starving.Dying.
And I couldn’t evendanceright.
My hands clenched around the letter until the edges tore. The pain grounded me. A little.
Roz shifted in my lap, claws pricking lightly through the fabric of my gown. I stroked its fur, but the touch did nothing to quiet the agony inside me.
Rising abruptly, I sent Roz tumbling onto the bed with a startled squeak before it darted back to my pillow. It settled there, its eyes fixed on me, like a glare in miniature.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, rubbing at my face. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” I began walking in a frantic circle along the walls of the room, fingertips dragging over stone, as if I could find an opening. I seized the window latch and wrenched, but it wouldn’t give. My reflection blurred in the pane, pale and stricken.
The air felt thicker with every breath. Too close. Too heavy. My chest seized with the sense that the room itself meant to cage me. Roz squeaked again, a soft, mournful sound, but I was already snatching my veil and throwing it over my head with shaking hands as I tugged it low across my brow.
The sheer fabric swirled around my shoulders as I moved, fast now, not thinking … just going.
I pressed my eye to the thin sliver of light as I eased the door open. I’d never tried to leave my room at night, so I had no idea where the guards were stationed.
But there was no one outside my door.
My hands shook with relief as I gripped the doorframe and stepped out, my sandaled feet whispering against the stone as I crept down the corridor, following the curve of the hall until it widened into the main exit.
Gods.
At the end of the hall, two guards blocked the doors, their spears crossed in a silent X. I spun away, slipping back down the hall, retracing my steps as quickly and quietly as I could, praying they hadn’t heard. If they saw me now, they’d question me. And I had no answers to give other than Menelaus was destroying my people. And that, most likely, wouldn’t go over well.
