Chapter 2 #2
“I came by after your coronation, but the staff said you were unavailable. In fact, you’ve been conveniently indisposed over the last few weeks.
Why haven’t you called on me?” Jaide asked, her turquoise eyes glittering in the morning sunlight.
Hydrangeas bristled in the warm breeze along the manor’s exterior, as if the tension between the two women was palpable in the air.
Tethys clenched her hands to keep them from shaking.
She was near her breaking point. Although all she wanted was to come apart wrapped in Jaide’s warm embrace and pour out every broken thought, she couldn’t.
So, she forced her expression to fade into indifference.
Casual cruelty was the strongest of armors.
“You shouldn’t have come. I cannot entertain you today,” Tethys replied, lowering her gaze. Her cheeks warmed and her hands trembled, but Tethys reinforced her shields with a bitter snarl. She scuffed a loosened pebble with her foot, meeting her oldest friend’s knowing eyes directly.
“My lady, I know that cannot be true,” Jaide said, her stubborn words prodding for an explanation.
“It is true, Jaide. Now, please, I’m very busy today. I shall call on you when I need you.” Tethys started for the entrance.
“Tethys, please, something’s wrong. I can tell.
I cannot help you if you don’t let me,” Jaide whispered, grasping her friend’s wrist. Jade’s tawny skin was a stark contrast to Tethys’s pale complexion.
Sunbeams reflected off her cheeks, highlighting the golden undertones beneath, and the honey-colored bodice Jaide wore accentuated her soft, classical curves. She was gloriously feminine.
Although Tethys was aware of her own unmatched beauty, Jaide had a carefree aura that she was entirely envious of.
Maybe it was an unconfined lifestyle that brightened the glow around her friend.
Or maybe simply an inherent feature at birth.
Nonetheless, Tethys often found her hardened mind softening in Jaide’s presence alone.
“I do not wish to see you, Jaide. That’s why I haven’t called on you.
And do not address me so casually. I am your queen,” Tethys hissed.
She knew throwing her nobility in Jaide’s face would sting just enough for her friend to back down.
Jade’s grip loosened from Tethys’s wrist and her arm fell limp to her side.
The manor’s drive was silent, even the morning birds hushed their melodies for a brief moment in time.
With wounded eyes, Jaide bowed deeply and said, “Yes, my queen.”
Tethys swallowed the desperation welling in her throat.
Her heart begged her to relinquish what she’d said.
To apologize and throw her arms around her friend.
But humiliation was the louder voice screaming in her head.
How could she face Jaide, when she barely risked a glance at her own reflection?
The pity. The sympathetic whispers and comforting embrace made everything she’d endured since her wedding night all the more painful.
Speaking it into existence made it feel more real. Like etchings on stone.
This was for the best.
The fortress she’d built around herself these last few weeks needed to remain strong, to stand tall and unwavering. She’d finally put back together what few pieces remained. She couldn’t afford to fall apart right now. If she did, she feared she’d be irreparable.
“Now, go. Please,” Tethys begged. Her voice was hoarse, withholding the tears pooling just behind her eyes.
She couldn’t bear to break Jaide’s heart, but she had to, because if she didn’t, she’d break her own. And while Jaide’s would recover, Tethys knew her own wouldn’t.
Jaide’s eyes were bitter as she returned to her transport and entered the chariot, her glittering golden gown disappearing into its interior. The horseman, latching the door behind her, bowed toward the goddess before climbing to his seat.
Tethys unclenched her cramping fists and retreated to the settee in the study’s corner, beneath the windows that overlooked the garden. At least from there she could watch the world safely behind crystalline glass.
? ? ?
Later that evening, the dinner bells rang and Tethys descended the grand staircase. She’d withdrawn so far into her thoughts she hadn’t noticed the hours pass without Procyon’s return. Now, as she started for the main dining room, she felt the freedom of his absence.
Part of her hoped he’d returned to Canissa already.
She looked forward to being away from him for however long it’d take to reprimand his people for their insurgence.
The first thing she’d do was request a change of sheets and ask the maids to scrub every crease and crevice of her chambers.
She wanted to be rid of his essence entirely.
She passed the stiff portraits of the mortal nobility, running her nails down each stretched canvas.
The lords and ladies looked down at her with disdain.
Their perpetual frowns, painted on pursed lips, mocked her with every step.
Pathetic, one seemed to say. Disgusting, said another.
Tethys focused on her feet, lowering one foot then the other, attempting to drown out their hateful words.
Finally, her cream-colored slippers reached the rich red carpet in the main hall. She exhaled and started down the hall to the dining room.
The manor’s front doors were propped open, letting the fresh, springtime air circulate through the house. The early evening light filtered through white linen curtains that floated in the breeze, casting shadows along ancient wooden floors.
For tradition’s sake, Tethys was required to eat in the main dining room every evening.
She often felt it absurd to sit at a table so full of various meats, fishes, and platters with every chair vacant but her own.
When she first arrived in Venia, she missed the lively chatter of her family’s dinner table.
Procyon and Altair fighting over the last smoked trout, Polaris rolling her eyes at them while she nibbled on a wedge of hard cheese.
Most of all, she missed her mother’s gentle voice, hushing the boys from their bickering or making light of her father’s grueling scoldings.
Phosphora’s moments of clarity were infrequent, but they were warm and full of love.
Light flickered from the tall, white candlesticks scattered around the room.
They reminded Tethys of her. Phosphora was the warmth where she hadn’t realized she’d grown cold.
Her mother’s embrace cured any ailment or childish heartbreak.
Those gentle forehead kisses washed away all fear of this dark, rampant world.
Tethys flinched, suddenly no longer hungry.
That was a time long-since passed. There was no sense in lingering in memories, especially when everything was irrevocably different.
In her adolescence, Tethys clung to those moments, grounded herself in them.
Now all they did was cause her heart to crack.
“The lieutenant has arrived, Goddess.” A servant’s knock on the dining-room door interrupted her spiraling thoughts. She gestured to the waitstaff, stiff and statuesque in the flickering candlelight. He bowed low and refilled Tethys’s chalice of honeyed wine.
“Thank you, Phaon,” she said.
The server smiled cautiously before retreating to his post. Tethys drained the chalice.
The burn of alcohol as it fell down her throat numbed the ache in her head just enough to put up her shields.
She straightened in her seat, smoothing her curls in place.
It was safe becoming what everyone expected of her.
So, like war paint, she traced lines of cool boredom along her lips.
“Enter,” she commanded.
“My queen, may I present to you the honorable Lieutenant Araes,” Phaon said, pulling open the heavy double doors.