Chapter Twelve
Thea
When we burst into the throne room, what I saw there was enough to make my blood instantly boil. It was enough to make me so furious that I longed for my magic. I begged any other God listening to return it to me. I dug deep into the pit in my gut, hunting desperately for the tiniest of sparks.
None came.
Not a single tiny inkling of it as I looked at the Emperor and Empress of Tenebris on their knees, bowed before Hyrax.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Caldrius murmured under his breath to me, his head bowing towards mine.
“That it is.”
I met his gaze in my periphery, surprised to find him looking just as suspicious as I felt.
Despite everything that had happened, the monarchs looked similar to how they had when I was in their country a few weeks ago.
They still covered themselves in their finery with those haughty, self-important expressions painted onto their faces even as they lowered themselves before my father.
They crouched low on the white marble floors of the throne room, the light from the large windows sparkling on the diamond embellishments of their clothing.
Damon, the prince who had once pledged himself to Clay, bowed a few feet behind his parents, his eyes staring blankly at the floor in front of him. Behind him, lingered a modest-sized delegation from Tenebris.
Including one particularly familiar face.
Veric looked up as I entered and met my gaze. He had a measured and tight expression, his full lips pursed, but he subtly inclined his head at me as I stepped forward into the room.
“Theadora!” Hyrax greeted me with a smile, immediately rushing to my side to bring me to the front of the dais. “Come and meet our new allies.”
I didn’t have to don a mask when I looked down at them. I didn’t have to pretend to be the unfeeling, merciless daughter of death. No, the anger I felt was enough to fuel me.
“We’ve met,” I said, not bothering to hide my disappointment.
I had known it would only be a matter of time before word spread of Hyrax’s release into this realm.
I had expected that many would rather bow to him than face his wrath, but it wasn’t until that very moment, looking at the monarchs lowered in submission, that I realized how much hope had still lingered in me.
I had wished, perhaps blindly, that there might be some who would be willing to stand up against Hyrax—some that might ally with Clay and the others to fight back.
We needed the support of other nations to get through this.
“You have?” Hyrax frowned.
“I believe my wife was once betrothed to that one,” Caldrius said beside me, lifting his free hand to point at Veric. His other hand still hadn’t let go of mine.
Hyrax followed Caldrius’ finger, tilting his head as he looked over Veric.
“An arrangement that the Dragon made, which neither Veric nor I had any say in,” I interjected.
Veric had been kind to me those weeks ago in Tenebris. He had been generous even when my feelings for Clay had been plain on my face. Even if he was on his knees for Hyrax, I couldn’t bear the thought of the God choosing Veric as the next victim of his wrath.
“And how would you say you feel about seeing him now?” Hyrax’s voice was low, assessing.
He was testing me.
I fought off the urge to tense visibly while hiding my shaking hands behind my back.
“I barely know him.” Purposefully, I walked three steps backwards towards Caldrius, resting my weight against him when his arm came to wrap around my hip.
“When we met briefly, there was nothing more than friendship between us. I suppose I’m pleased to see him, but I’m more curious as to why he’s here. ”
Hyrax’s brow furrowed. He took me in, considering my words, before his icy eyes left my face and turned to Caldrius.
“How would you like to handle him, my son?”
I went rigid against Caldrius, knowing he could feel it by the way his fingers tightened on my hip.
Hyrax had called Caldrius a son so naturally.
Caldrius had been at his side for lifetimes, both as an advisor and a friend. He was more of a son to Hyrax than I would ever be a daughter. Of course, Hyrax would prioritize his wishes above mine.
Hiding my irritation behind a soft smile, I intertwined my fingers through Caldrius’ hand on my hip and pinched his skin in silent warning. Gods help me, if Caldrius did anything to harm Veric, I would make him suffer for the rest of eternity for it.
He chuckled darkly as he pressed a kiss to my temple.
“All in the past, my liege.” His breath was warm against my skin. “No need to punish a man for having the misfortune of being forced into an engagement with a woman who would never return his affections.”
It seemed to take some time for the God to decide how he felt about that. His eyes bounced between the two of us for a long time before he eventually shrugged and turned to seat himself on the onyx throne behind us.
A throne that had been golden only a fortnight ago.
Now it towered higher than I’d ever seen it before, the once shining glimmer of it now replaced with something altogether more ominous. It wasn’t quite the throne of skulls and bones that he’d sat on in the Underworld, but it was clearly his.
“You’ve stopped breathing,” Caldrius whispered to me.
I had?
Yes, I had. My chest had locked. My grip on his palm neared crushing.
I forced myself to inhale. A single deep breath in. A single deep breath out. Again. Again.
“Good.”
“I don’t need your approval,” I hissed back at him under my breath, pushing at his hand.
His mouth quirked into that sideways smirk, and he gave my hip a single squeeze before nudging me forward gently.
“You need to be thoughtful in how you handle this,” he murmured into my ear, his lips brushing against my skin. “He wants you to be his heir, not someone who still longs for Athenia.”
I glanced backwards at him, noticing the subtle tension in his shoulders. His jaw twitched unhappily, those fingers stretching at his sides as they did when he was worried.
Caldrius being worried was never a good thing.
“Why are you here?” I asked Rani, returning my attention to the matter at hand.
The Empress glanced up at me. Tenebrisian fashions usually revealed more than those favored in Athenia, so she had chosen a more modest gown than the last one I had seen her in.
Still, it was crafted from that shimmering fabric that many of my gowns in Tenebris had been made of, leaving her a mass of glittering finery.
Diamonds sparkled on her ears, neck, and fingers.
No golden crown, though.
She hadn’t dared to wear a crown before a being so much more powerful than her.
“We felt the rise of his Holiness and have come to pledge ourselves in his service.”
“You’re Descendants of Zion,” I reminded them blandly, unable to keep the contempt from my voice.
Despite being the last of my line, when I’d visited their country, they’d treated me as far less important than Clay because of our lineages.
Where had all that House Zion pride gone? Where was their loyalty to their ancestor now?
Hyrax laughed softly behind me. “Surely we should not turn away their loyalty because my brother sired them, my dear. If we judged everyone so harshly, you would not be so happily married, after all.”
Caldrius quirked his head in agreement, shifting his weight and lifting his chin as he addressed the monarchs. “It was wise of you to come here and acknowledge the power of the God among you. One must always know when they need to get on their knees and bow.”
His voice was thick with authority, coated in arrogance.
Forgetting that I was supposed to be happily married, I turned to glare at him, my upper lip curled back in disgust. But he avoided my gaze, keeping his attention focused instead on the monarchs at his feet.
That smug satisfaction was rolling off him in waves.
He loved this.
He loved knowing that others had to bow before him.
Even if they were only doing so because Hyrax was behind him.
When he turned towards me, there was no softness in the lines of his face. There wasn’t a single sign of compassion in the shadows of his eyes.
Not my friend.
I forced myself to repeat the reminder over and over in my mind. This was who Caldrius would always be. He was nothing more than a mad king hungry for more influence and eager to stand at Hyrax’s side if it meant a little of that power might leak off the God and onto him.
“Something to say, darling?” His gaze flicked to my lips, anticipating what I might level at him.
But I could only shake my head in disappointment. There were no words to fully convey the confusion he inspired in me.
“Theadora.”
A chill fell over me at Hyrax’s tone. There was a call in it. A demand.
Hyrax’s eyes narrowed as he took me in and noticed the growing tension between Caldrius and me. His head tilted contemplatively, his mouth opened—
Caldrius was next to me then, his head dipping towards mine and his fingers wrapping around my wrist. His dark eyes bore into mine, filled with silent warnings.
Hyrax watched us, his attention a heavy weight as I swallowed down every violent, hateful protestation that came to my lips and let Caldrius lead me up to the dais. Hyrax watched us climb the steps before waving a hand to his right, a silent order regarding where he expected me to stand.
“You look unhappy, dear,” Hyrax said over his shoulder.
“Only surprised,” I lied.
He chuckled, scratching the skin under his beard as he focused on the monarchs. “What is it you have come to offer me?”
Caldrius’ hand fell away from my back as he moved to take the place to Hyrax’s left.
“We flew ahead of our ships,” Emperor Kamon announced after clearing his throat. “But they are sailing here now with a large bounty.”
Kamon started listing the offerings Tenebris planned to bring—horses, spices, lavish fabrics, and jewels. The list seemed never-ending, and they recited it all from their knees.
How long would he force them to bow? Surely, they would bruise eventually.