139. ‘Styx, How Long Have You Known?’
‘Styx, How Long Have You Known?’
Pallas appeared by my side as we travelled,
the waters of the ocean shining below
as Hyperion won the day again.
I turned to look at my consort’s face,
his handsome features shadowed
with concern and sadness.
‘Some time,’ I admitted softly.
Then I reached for his hand. ‘I did not
want you to stop me from coming.’
He looked down at where my fingers
were entwined with his, then up at me.
‘I am not your father, Styx,’
he reminded me gently.
‘I have only ever shown you
love and grace. Do you still
not trust me?’ At these words,
it was as though a veil fell
from my eyes. I had hurt him.
Not because I kept the baby a secret,
but because I had disrespected his love
in doing so. Even now, Pallas did not
show any anger. Instead,
he simply showed pain.
‘Pallas,’ I said ruefully.
My heart had been barricaded so long
that I did not recognize his love
for the gift that it was.
And now I had hurt him. The only
male God who had shown me
unconditional understanding and support.
Where my father knew my intelligence
and used it to his benefit without gratitude,
Pallas always thanked me for my counsel.
Where my brothers knew I was eldest
but showed me no respect for it,
Pallas never forgot, mentioning
to anyone who would listen
that I was the first of our generation,
the oldest of the Titans’ children.
How had I not seen his patient love
for what it was? Relegated him to being
just another male God unconsciously.
I took his face in my hands and said words
I had rarely ever said before.
‘I am sorry. Forgive me, my love.’
Something shifted in his expression.
A relief shone in his eyes.