Chapter Twenty-One Zerra The Sun Queen Aphelion The First Age of Ouranos
Queen Zerra lay on the divan, staring out the window. She had already stripped down to her golden underwear, but still her bronzed skin beaded with sweat. The window sat open, welcoming a tepid breeze off the water, but it wasn’t enough to combat the oppressive stillness of this endless heat.
A servant stood over her, waving a giant leaf, and while the effort was commendable, all it really did was stir around the hot, soupy air. It was agony. She was wilting like flower petals packed in salt.
“Bring me some water,” she ordered another servant, who stood with her hands clasped. The girl scurried off, and Zerra wrinkled her nose. It had only been last week she’d finally conceded to allowing them to abandon their lovely gold livery in favor of looser cotton garments that made the heat more tolerable. She hated the way it made them appear unkempt and shabby, like broken-down furniture, unlike their crisp, starched uniforms.
But when they kept passing out from heat stroke, she’d conceded the sight of disheveled servants was better than having no one to fetch her a drink at all.
The girl returned with a crystal glass that clinked with ice. Zerra accepted it without a word and sipped before she pressed it to her forehead, seeking a moment of fleeting relief.
Around the room, more courtiers lay on their own divans with their eyes closed, all stripped down to practically nothing. This had been going on for two and a half months now. The endless heat. The lack of rain. Zerra had lost count of how many living in the districts had already died. She had people to worry about such matters, except they kept expecting her to do something about this. As if she had any control over the weather. She was a queen, not a god.
As she scanned the room, she caught the eye of Eamon, who regarded her with a raised brow, the suggestion in his expression clear.
Her eyes cantered down the length of his perfect body, admiring the cut of his chest and his stomach and the way a line of sweat lazily curved over his tight ridges like a cool stream winding through a mountain valley.
He used his chin to gesture towards the doorway, asking if she wanted to move to a more private space. She gave the offer three seconds of serious consideration but decided she was just too fucking hot.
While she rarely balked at a stolen moment riding his cock, the idea of his hot body pressed against her hot body growing even hotter, almost made her faint. This was becoming unbearable.
She shook her head and mouthed the word “later” across the room. He tipped his chin and then laid his head back down, closing his eyes as his own leaf-waving servant arced her fan over him.
She enjoyed the view of his bronzed skin for several moments, contenting herself with daydreams of being fucked on her balcony, bent over the railing while he thrust into her from behind. It wasn’t quite as satisfying as the real thing, but her imagination would have to suffice for now.
She laid her head back down and watched the ocean waves roll from the window, contemplating the idea of rousing herself for a swim. The water was one of the few places that offered a temporary sliver of escape from this torment.
Unfortunately, that also meant most of Aphelion had gathered on the coast. She frowned at the scene below, scanning the beach milling with hundreds of people dunking in the surf for hours on end. They were spending their entire days there and doing nothing else. Utterly lazy. Maybe she needed to enforce some curfews regarding the use of the water.
“The mist,” she said, not addressing anyone in particular, but a moment later, the relief of a million tiny droplets sizzled over her flushed skin.
If this kept up, she’d need to cordon off a section of the beach for her private use, at the very least. She wasn’t about to fight her way through the sweaty masses. Really, she should have done that years ago.
“Your Majesty,” came a voice she knew, and her eyes drifted shut in irritation. “Your Majesty, I must speak with you.”
Zerra sucked in a deep breath and then slowly rolled over with a clenched smile glued to her face. “What is it, Cyrus?”
“I’ve received word that we lost another hundred and thirty-two people last night. They can’t tolerate this heat. We need to do something.”
Zerra sighed. “Send them more ice,” she said with a flick of her hand.
“Our production is lagging,” he said. “There isn’t enough to distribute to everyone.”
He stared at her with his eyebrows drawn.
“And? What do you want me to do then?”
He blinked.
“Something. I want you to do… something.”
The words were spoken softly, but Zerra flinched as though he’d pulled off a wet leather glove and slapped her cheek.
“There’s nothing else I can do. We’ll just have to wait this out.”
Cyrus opened his mouth and then closed it before he tipped her a quick bow. She registered the disappointment on his face, but she wasn’t sure what he expected of her.
“I’ll direct people to the water then,” he said, and she nodded.
“Yes. Do that.”
He nodded and then turned to leave. She watched until he cleared the doorway, and then, with a heavy sigh, lay back down on her soft divan and closed her eyes.
She was listening to the sounds from the beach and the soft sighs of the courtiers when a cool breeze pulled her eyes open.
The scene around her had changed. She no longer lay on her divan but on a hard, foreign surface.
Above her curved an arched ceiling—at least it seemed like a ceiling, except that it looked like the sky. Most importantly, the air was cool. Blissfully, beautifully cool.
She sighed and brushed her arms and legs against the marble until someone cleared their throat, alerting her to the fact she wasn’t alone.
Quickly, she shot up and looked behind her to find several figures she recognized.
Amara, the queen of Heart. Terra, the king of Tor. And though she’d never met him, she assumed the man with the long chestnut hair must be Hawthorne, the Woodlands King.
She pushed herself up as they watched her, and she became conscious of how little she was wearing.
“What is going on?” she asked as she tiptoed closer, taking a place next to Amara.
“We’re not sure,” she replied. “We’re waiting. I think.”
Zerra nodded, wrapping her arms around herself, and for the first time in months, she shivered.