Chapter 40
Starlight beamed through the cascading floral arrangements that lined every window of the manor’s ballroom.
Its twinkling light refracted in the ornate crystalline chandelier that twirled slowly above the guests.
Tethys found the wealth that now ebbed and flowed around her throne to be stifling.
The entirety of the highborn district, Antares, now buzzed in celebration.
Tethys tapped an impatient finger across the arm rest. The ball commenced hours ago and none of her immortal siblings or parents had yet to make an appearance.
Polaris, she assumed, would not be in attendance.
The goddess would find herself lost within the pages of her books rather than supporting her sister tonight.
Tethys flexed her hand, watching the veins bend around bone.
Although it didn’t come as a shock, it still was a knife to her chest. With their history, she thought Polaris might be the only of her siblings she could rely on, but maybe she held onto that relationship of old too tightly. Maybe it’d slipped away insidiously.
She suspected Procyon would arrive late, or maybe not at all.
The Canissaens were now rampant with whispers of rebellion, and she supposed he was in the thick of uncovering their plans.
So much for the all-knowing wonder he claimed to have as their immortal king.
It was a relief, nonetheless, to have a few hours in the night without the weight of his presence hanging over her like a pendulum ready to snap.
Like Polaris, Altair had left his invitation unanswered.
He’d fled to the southern realm years ago, only leaving the royal blue beaches and gilded, golden temple when absolutely necessary.
Tethys scoffed. Her brother claimed to be a pacifist in the face of conflict, but in reality, she knew it was cowardice.
Altair was a gentle, soft-spoken leader.
But make no mistake, his demeanor often allowed for slips of information.
When they were children, Tethys confided in her compassionate older brother about some childish rebellion she no longer could recount the details of.
He promised to keep her secret close and offered her an empathetic hug.
The moment she’d returned to her bedchamber, he already reported her actions to their father.
As punishment, she’d spent two years prisoner to their family home.
Never allowed to leave the fortress walls.
Now, with resentment gritted in her teeth, Tethys watched as her people carried on in cheerful conversation. The slip of time fueled an impatient anger. When she needed them most, her siblings made themselves scarce. How she expected tonight to be different, she wasn’t sure.
Tethys gestured for a servant to refill her wine chalice and braced her elbow against the throne.
“Any word of their arrival, Arissa?” Tethys asked, keeping her eyes unfocused. The blur of pinks, yellows, and greens as the orchestral band played their upbeat melodies was distraction enough from the rage now festering in her belly.
“No, my queen. I’m sorry,” Arissa replied from behind her. A hint of something like sympathy slipped through the mask in her tone.
“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Tethys scowled, rising from her throne. The servant returned with a full chalice. She thanked him and drained the glass, returning it to his tray.
“Lieutenant, I’d like a dance, and seeing as my husband is nowhere to be seen, would you have the honor of accompanying me?
” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at the lieutenant.
The golden silk of her gown draped to her low back, exposing her bare flesh to the crisp air.
She watched as he swallowed the knot now forming in his throat and nodded stiffly.
Araes clasped her hand in his and the pair descended the dais, weaving between twirling couples, and stopped in the center of the ballroom.
The music quieted to silence as they reached the central point beneath the chandelier.
“I’m not sure this is smart, my queen,” Araes whispered as she stepped into his space.
“It is nothing more than a dance, Lieutenant. I’ve thrown this ball, I at least would like to enjoy even the briefest of moments,” Tethys responded.
“As you wish it then, Goddess,” he said, holding out his open palm.
Wandering eyes fixed on the couple as they stepped in time with the next melody.
Their movement ebbed and flowed through the room with the building crescendo.
The current coursing through her veins from every point of contact between them boomed with each heartbeat.
Tethys felt, for a moment, like she could fly.
That if they kept twirling around the room their feet may float above the floor, never to return again.
She took in a breath, feeling the electricity that flooded her system. Here and now, in the frantic sea of celebration, Tethys came alive. Her eyes tethered to his, and the world erupted into a kaleidoscope of colors and movement and sounds.
She could stay in this moment forever.
She could stay with him forever.
And suddenly, the realization of what coursed between them hit her from every direction.
The chains of her obligations collided with the desire for a life that was completely and entirely hers.
And in this moment, breathless and glazed with sweat, she realized he was her choice.
A mere mortal so similar in his brokenness to her own.
This soldier, this brother, this son, was so exceptionally mortal.
And yet, her pulse quickened in his presence and his touch set fire to her skin.
“What a welcome home this is. Finding my queen dancing in the arms of another,” Procyon hissed from behind the couple. Tethys winced at the razor-sharp feel of his fingers pressing into her shoulder, drawing a bead of garnet-red blood down her skin.
“Proc please, it was a dance. Nothing more,” she whispered as Procyon grasped her hand.
They circled the room as Procyon guided them away from the lieutenant.
Although the lieutenant’s face remained expressionless, his amber eyes flashed in the candlelight.
Tethys watched as he tucked his bone white fists into his overcoat.
“Just as your visit to Ophis’s was just a visit. Did you learn nothing from my previous lesson?” Procyon’s eyes narrowed as he yanked her into his orbit.
“Please. Let it go,” Tethys begged, squirming against his immortal grip.
If she herself didn’t possess the strength of immortality in her bones, her spine would surely snap.
Procyon’s expression reminded her of a rabid dog.
His mouth twitched with a fury on the precipice of consuming him entirely, and his nostrils flared with each syllable he spat.
If she didn’t diffuse his anger, this could turn dire.
“Do not command me, Tethys. Remember your place in this union. Your duty,” he growled.
They spun around once more and the melody turned frantic.
Tethys felt the beat of her heart as it slammed into her chest. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she stumbled over the violinist’s shrill cadenza.
The music pulsed through her, flooding her vision with blinding terror.
“My place is by your side, husband. I am your Eos just as you are my Astraeus,” she whispered, stroking his cheek.
The scratch of his beard against her palm sent a cringe down her spine, but she forced herself to close the distance between them.
The taste of his breath on her tongue was vile, but if she could extinguish this fire before it spread through the ballroom, then she would.
His lips connected with hers and she fought the urge to jerk away.
This is for the best. This is what’s right.
She would bury herself in Procyon’s delusion of rebirth. She let his tongue to slip between her lips, dawning her armor once more.
“You are my Eos,” he repeated, running his hand down the curve of her spine.
Tethys’s head spun with the rising tide of nausea.
The part she played was both repulsive and terrifying.
How easy it was to use her body as a weapon.
But in doing so, she lost another piece to the rot that spread each time she put aside her autonomy.
When finally, Procyon pulled away she risked a glance at Araes.
His complexion greyed beneath the weight of her gaze.
With jaw ticked, he looked from her to Procyon.
The frigid glaze of death coated his amber eyes and for a moment they gleamed a deep shade of ruby.
Procyon turned his back and started for the dais, leaving her an island in the sea of dancers.
A tear escaped from the fortress she’d built, and she swiftly wiped it away before trailing the king.
In a world far from their own, maybe Tethys and Araes would have a life together.
Maybe they’d build a cottage on the seaside with a garden and a handful of livestock.
Maybe they’d marry beneath the Lover’s Pillars, as every mortal couple does.
Maybe there’d be a blonde-haired boy with depthless golden eyes chasing geese through the fields.
Tethys squeezed her eyes shut and escaped to that world. Her visions were interrupted, however, by the abrupt scratch of instruments stopping. When she opened her eyes again, standing in the room’s entrance, were her mother and father. Behind them stood Altair and Polaris.