Chapter 23
Tethys awoke to a thundering heartbeat and soaked sheets. That nightmare hadn’t been like any before. She’d gotten them since she was a child, these visions through the eyes of a woman with midnight hair and pale, wintry skin. But this? This terrified her to her core.
She threw her duvet off her bare legs, only to realize that what she believed to be sweat between her thighs was, in fact, urine. Something was seriously wrong. Tethys ran an arm down her shoulder, reassuring herself that both limbs remained attached.
A knock at her door announced her chambermaid’s morning service.
“Come in,” she called, peeling the damp nightgown from her skin. Her first handmaid came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the naked goddess. She swiftly averted her eyes, her cheeks reddening to a deep shade of cherry.
“I should like a bath this morning,” Tethys requested, brushing past the chambermaid and entering her washroom.
While two mousy-looking maids drew her bath, she sat at the vanity, inspecting the damage the rebel men had done.
Her body was bruised in more places than she thought and a long, thin scab, marking the blade’s edge, traced across her throat.
She swallowed hard, hoping the dread now spreading like a toxin through her would dissipate.
The rebels were dead. Araes made sure of that.
She was safe. For now. The promise of another attack loomed over her like a shadow cast by a stark, unrelenting sun.
Tethys knew down to her very core that others would come.
Her confidence in the security of the manor dwindled and she could only think that the safety of this room, these walls, was merely a delusion.
The smaller of the two maids, a black-haired woman named Marta, placed a tray of oils beside the now-full copper basin and nodded to the goddess.
“Thank you, Marta. I don’t need anything else, please go enjoy breakfast,” she said, slipping into the tub and welcoming the hot water’s sting on her skin.
She’d always preferred her baths to be as close to scalding as possible without leaving burns.
The chambermaids dipped their chins and left Tethys to her thoughts.
When she’d bathed, combed through her hair, and dressed in a peach-colored gown adorned with mother-of-pearl beads, she descended the manor and broke her fast in the sunroom away from the usual formal dining space.
Her blonde ringlets, usually piled atop her head, draped her frame as she found a seat by the room’s floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the garden.
Aside from the library, the sunroom was her favorite space in the home.
The natural light that poured in from the morning washed the room in its comforting rays.
Outside, rows of peonies, now blooming in vibrant pinks and whites, bristled with the whisper of springtime wind.
Ivy crept up the marble columns on either side of a separate entrance from the garden.
Tethys sipped her coffee, inhaling the bitter aromatics that lingered in the room.
Her buzzing thoughts cleared with the arrival of dawn.
Once she was able to think a bit more clearly, she realized that the lieutenant hadn’t made his presence known yet.
That was unlike him. However, after yesterday’s incident, she supposed he, too, made himself scarce for the sake of his own mental recovery.
Wasn’t this the peace she desperately sought for? To finally be alone?
Yet, the silence was slightly too heavy.
The vacancy, slightly too apparent. Tethys hadn’t revisited the surprising feelings that budded upon Araes’s rescue.
The gentleness in which he’d cradled her through the still-sleeping city, or the scratch of his palms across her bare thighs…
it ignited something that really shouldn’t be lit.
But it was. There was no denying this sense of longing. Was that what this was? Desire?
Tethys huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose. These feelings were nonsensical. Traitorous. She’d be a complete idiot to fall for his vices. Like a lamb to the slaughter.
And what of his panic attack? She’d seen a part of him she was sure he hadn’t wanted her to see.
The hardened lieutenant, stoic and noble, brought to his knees by the torment of his own thoughts.
Tethys hadn’t judged him, of course. She knew war could break a man, especially one with mortal fragility.
How many nights did she find herself in the clutches of her own nightmares, only to be consumed by the same sense of panic that’d brought the giant of a man to his knees?
“My lady.” A gruff voice startled the spiraling goddess. She rose to her feet, nearly knocking her china teacup from its saucer on the side table.
“Oh-h. It’s you. You’re late,” she said to the lieutenant who now stood before her stiff as marble.
“I would’ve thought you’d enjoyed a morning alone, but my apologies, I was indisposed this morning. I had to debrief the staff on our whereabouts yesterday,” he said, tucking his hands behind his back.
“Ah yes, our journey to the temple well before dawn. I’m sure there were questions,” she said, returning to her seat. Araes’s posture made her wary. His walls weren’t just back up, they were fortified. The warm amber in his eyes was imperturbable and the thin line his lips now formed, unreadable.
“They did. However, I made sure to assure them you simply requested a visit for prayer,” he said, his voice clipped.
“Thank you.” Tethys watched the lieutenant with scrutiny as he took the seat beside the garden door.
“Please, return to your breakfast. I don’t wish to interrupt your peaceful morning,” he said, peering out the windows.
Tethys’s words were lost to her. This cold, unfeeling fortress he’d placed himself in didn’t come as a shock.
No, she’d expected this response from the man who sought such high honor and heroism.
What surprised her was the frustration bubbling in her chest. His indifference sliced through her heart in a way that utterly terrified her.
“Lieutenant I—” she started.
“Please, my lady. Let us enjoy the gardens in silence,” he said, refusing to meet her eyes.
A knock on the sunroom door came before she could formulate her response.
“Come in,” she called, still investigating the silent soldier.
“Lady Tethys, thank the gods you’re alright!” Jaide cried, flying in from the hall and embracing her friend.
“Jaide, please keep your voice down! The staff don’t know the truth of what happened!” Tethys whispered, returning the embrace.
“Sorry! Sorry, my lady. I’m just so relieved you’re okay. I heard what happened with those rebels. I shouldn’t have left you. I’m so sorry, please forgive me,” she said, tears now running down her cheeks.
“It’s alright. I’m safe. We both had our own matters to attend to, I would have slipped away regardless.
The only ones to be blamed are those bastards, and they won’t be a problem any longer,” Tethys said, cupping her oldest friend’s cheeks in her hands.
Jaide’s eyes glittered with tear drops yet to streak down her face.
“But I left you,” she whispered, leaning into Tethys’s touch. Her skin was warm against the coolness of the goddess’s palm.
“I told you to.” Tethys smiled softly and placed a hand on Jaide’s knee. “I’m okay. Really.” She nodded once more in reassurance and hugged her friend again.
“I’m still sorry,” Jaide said into her ear.
“I know.”
Araes, who had come to sit beside the lady-in-waiting, cleared his throat. Tethys wasn’t sure just how much of the truth to share of last night’s escapades. The orb, now nestled safely in her pocket, haunted her more than the rebels.
“I returned to Lord Ophis’s this morning, my lady. He assured me his shades were on damage control. As far as all of the other guests know, an Antarean woman had a bit too much to drink and was escorted out by her husband,” Jaide said, throwing Araes a pointed look. He remained silent still.
“Thank you. If word were to get back to the king…” Tethys trailed off, shivering at the thought.
She’d somehow managed to rein in Procyon’s rage before, but if he’d thought she’d been unfaithful, in a pleasure house no less, he’d very well kill her.
She cleared that hypothetical away like a cobweb and smiled at her oldest friend.
“Jaide, I hate to cut our meeting short, but I have a few errands to run before this afternoon’s council meeting.
” Tethys sipped her coffee and rose from her seat.
She’d canceled her lesson with Euda this morning, claiming she preferred to brush up on her ancient languages alone in the city archives.
It wasn’t entirely a lie, her chariot already awaited her outside to take her across the city.
Polaris most certainly would leave her message unread, so she’d decided to research the ancient runes herself.
Although the Venian archives weren’t nearly as vast, their section on ancient dialects and folklore might prove to be useful.
“I won’t hold you then,” Jaide said, rising to her feet. Although Tethys assured her lady-in-waiting she was alright, her mask felt as transparent as ever. The two women had been friends since adolescence and Jaide could read her like an open book.
“I promise you I’m okay,” Tethys said, grasping Jaide’s hand.
She replied with a slight smile and kissed the back of the goddess’s hand. “You’re the strongest woman I know,” Jaide whispered, her voice cracking with a suppressed sob. “Sometimes it’s okay to let those that love you be strong for you, though.”
The sincerity in Jaide’s voice must have struck something within him, because Araes shifted in his seat. Tethys glanced over her shoulder at him, but he’d fixed his gaze on the floor.
“I couldn’t possibly ask you to bear that burden. My demons are mine alone,” Tethys replied.