Chapter 29
“Explain to me again why I had to practically bribe Arissa to keep silent?” Araes asked, helping Tethys into the plain wooden carriage that’d arrived in the night.
“Because, unlike my siblings, I cannot transmit…disappear then reappear in another location,” Tethys explained, taking his large hand and seating herself in the dim interior.
The feel of delicate skin against his was electric, forcing a stifled breath now demanding release.
He swallowed the knot forming at the back of his throat and took the seat on the bench opposite hers.
Tethys, dressed in midnight black travel leathers, notified the soldier with a tap on his slumbering shoulder that the bags were packed and a chariot awaited their departure in the front drive.
They were going to Ursae, and no amount of protests would sway her resolve in the decision.
He simply nodded and excused himself briefly to wash.
By the tarnished flecks of gold in her haunted eyes, Araes knew this journey wasn’t just to seek out Polaris and demand her reply.
It was to protect Tethys’s heart as well.
To put distance between herself and the memories stained across the manor walls.
His chest cracked, watching the shadows wriggle behind her eyes.
The goddess wore her pain so close to her chest, but he could see it, reflected in shades of grey morning light highlighted on her face.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, keeping his eyes from lingering too long.
He danced on coals, not knowing which version of himself she needed now, but whichever it was—he would be it.
Those bruises painted across her body sent his blood ablaze.
He would kill the immortal king, however impossible that truly was, if Procyon ever attempted a hand to her flesh again.
“Let’s hope so,” Tethys said, pulling him from his spiraling thoughts.
“And I’m going to assume it’s far too secret for you to brief me on exactly what you intend on discussing with your sister,” Araes suggested, raising a brow.
“You would be correct, Lieutenant. It’s above your pay grade.” She smirked, the pink sunlight illuminating her high cheekbones.
“You can trust me, Goddess,” he said. He meant it, too.
Tethys could tell him anything and he’d keep it until he was cold and dead in the ground.
Araes realized when he’d returned to his chambers to refresh that he would do anything, everything to keep her safe.
She had him wound around her perfect pinky finger so tightly it practically hurt.
That was incredibly fucking dangerous.
“I know,” she whispered.
The electricity jolting between them held him prisoner.
All meaning of time melted around them, and with it the carriage walls, the cobblestone streets, hell, the whole damned continent.
Gone. Just this unrelenting buzz of current racing from her to him, like a tether joining them together.
He sucked in a breath, letting the feel of her gaze upon him warm the frost from his veins.
The chariot wheel bounced over a pothole, jerking them out of the trance they’d found themselves in.
Araes cleared his throat and watched a merchant in tattered clothes walk down the street outside.
If he risked another look at the goddess opposite him, he wasn’t sure he could contain himself much more.
Keeping his attention locked on the mundane was the safest option.
“So, what can you tell me, then?” he asked, clearing his throat.
“Well, Polaris may have information that could help us figure out who’s taking the lowborn children in Serpens.
Lord Ophis’s shades provided some interesting information connecting the crimes to the northern city folk,” she said.
He knew she was withholding something incredulous, but he wouldn’t push. In time, maybe she’d tell him.
“We only have a week or so before my absence is noticed, so we’ll need answers as quickly as possible,” she said, fidgeting with something in the interior pocket of her cloak.
“If we push through the night, we should be in Ursae before sunset tomorrow,” Araes replied, averting his eyes. He needed to lock these feelings down. There was no room for lingering gazes.
“Yes, but we must be smart. If the city guards catch wind of our arrival, we risk word reaching the west. It’s been a long time since I’ve entered the northern realm, no one will recognize me, especially not in common clothes.
When we get there, you’ll no longer be a Venian lieutenant, and I’ll no longer be the spring queen.
We’ll just simply be travelers,” she said, nodding to the carefully folded sets of civilian clothes beside her.
“Got it. And what shall I call you?” he asked.
“Pardon?” Tethys threw him a quizzical look.
“Well, if we’re simply highborn citizens, I can’t call you ‘my queen’ or ‘Goddess.’ Have you picked a name for this mission?” Araes smirked and gods he swore a hint of a smile curved at the corner of Tethys’s mouth.
“Maybe I’m your wife,” she said, her eyes darkening. “Or maybe I’m your lover, and we’ve run away together.”
Wife. Lover. It didn’t matter, so long as she kept staring at him with those fucking eyes.
“Let’s stick with wife. It may be a bit less scandalous,” he said, raising a brow.
“Hmph. No fun, but suit yourself, Lieutenant.” She shrugged and shifted her gaze out the window.
Gone was the broken woman from the night before.
Her casual demeanor, as disarming as it may be, was more than certainly a facade.
A shell she’d carved to protect the delicate threads that stitched through her heart.
How exhausting it must be to pull oneself together time and time again?
Araes knew. He’d rebuilt his walls more times than he could remember.
“What are you thinking about, Goddess?” he asked, leaning against the cushioned bench. They’d crossed the Eastern River and now were traveling through the northern section of Serpens. By the city’s tenth bell, the chariot would be well outside Venia’s walls.
“I was thinking about visiting Serpens again after we return home. I’ve only traveled through a handful of times, and the people—my people, deserve to be heard.
” Her voice felt distant, as if she were somewhere far from here, and as she spoke, her eyes glimmered with a hint of sadness masked almost perfectly.
“I’m also beginning to think that the mortals who built this city were strategic in their division of the two districts.
The river is no more than a wall keeping over two-thirds of the city out,” Tethys said.
The chariot continued north, carrying them past unkempt shrubbery and roads littered with potholes.
In the past, the infrastructure in Serpens was at least maintained, but as the battles became more gruesome, and the war demanded more resources, it was quite evident what pocket of money the council pulled from.
“Those families deserve more than just recognition, but it’s at least a start.” Tethys bit her lip, scowling under her breath as the chariot passed a frail-looking woman and her infant seated against a faded townhome’s exterior.
“We’ll bring their children home, my queen.” Araes reached for her hand, now limp in her lap, but thought twice before returning it to his pocket.
“How can you be so sure?” she asked, brow wrinkled with anguish.
“Because you won’t stop until they’re safe. That much is clear,” he said, smiling softly at her. He meant it, too. She’d be relentless in her search, if only to bring the motherfucker behind these kidnappings to light. Beneath that thick, hardened layer, Tethys was a fair queen.
You’re no queen of mine, he’d once said. He flinched at the thought of those bitter words. How had he been so wrong?
“That much is true,” she said. The goddess tucked a loose curl behind her ear and continued watching the city as it passed them by.
It wasn’t the fresh morning light highlighting her blushed cheeks or the way her golden eyes bent and refracted from the incoming sunbeams that Araes found the most beautiful.
In this moment, maybe it was the faint trace of compassion that wrinkled in the crows of her eyes or the subtle bravery that curled at the corner of her mouth.
Here and now, she was his queen.