Chapter 41
The once-lively crowd of dancers fell silent, their gazes fixed to the stone tile floor as they parted to make way for the immortal family. Crucis lurked in the lingering shadows that slid across the floor like the hem of Obscuros’s cloak.
“Father…I must admit, I’m surprised to see you,” Tethys said with a tremble in her voice.
“I received an invitation, did I not?” he asked, his voice commanding the room. Apprehension hung like a dark mist in the air as he took a seat upon Tethys’s throne. His hands swallowed the golden curve of the armrests and his shoulders reached well above the throne’s backrest.
“Please, continue with your festivities,” he proclaimed, gesturing for the musicians to resume their song.
Someone cleared their throat in the crowd as they picked up their instruments.
Their cacophony of fumbling hands and frantic strings transitioned to a smooth, airy melody as the dancers filled the space once more.
“Tethys, my dear, I’m thrilled to see you,” Phosphora said, brushing past the goddess to stand beside her husband. Her voice was soft like a meandering forest brook. Tethys wanted to wrap herself in its tendrils, safe from the harsh reality of the world.
“As am I, Mother.” Tethys bowed low. Phosphora’s wild curls twisted around her body, hanging well below her hips.
It wasn’t often these days for her mother to be lucid.
The small bursts of normalcy were far and few, but upon every one, Tethys felt a crack of hope penetrate the shield of low expectation she built.
The primordial queen smiled softly with clouded eyes.
Obscuros laced his fingers through his wife’s and delicately patted the back of her hand—their Elytherian rings glinted against one another in the candlelight.
The primordial lovers were bonded by the most sacred of vows—the Elythera.
Performed only twice since the beginning of time— first between Eos and Astraeus, then between Phosphora and Obscuros, the ceremony was an ancient ritual.
To exchange the sacred vows was to share a piece of one’s soul with another.
In doing so, it tethered one partner to the other.
What that truly meant, only those who’d completed the rites knew.
Tethys had learned the rites in her lessons with Euda, and, as a child, often dreamed of one day performing the Elythera with another. But it was merely a fairytale now, doused in juvenile wonder. She sucked in a breath, feeling the weight of Obscuros’s gaze press into her.
“Dearest, where is Eos?” Phosphora asked, scanning the crowd of cautious dancers.
Obscuros stiffened, a hint of sadness filtering through his stone curtain. He opened his mouth to speak but paused. His silence was a crossroad in which one direction followed a brutal truth and one a cushioned fairytale.
“She has yet to arrive, Mother,” Polaris interjected, joining their parents on the dais. The night goddess motioned for a waiter and retrieved a chalice of wine from his tray.
“Oh, that’s a shame. I’d like to tell her the big news,” Phosphora said. Her voice floated above them, as if she were worlds away. Tethys wondered if, perhaps, that was for the best. It was brutally harsh down here on the ground.
Obscuros mouthed a thank you to his favorite daughter and wiped the vulnerability he unknowingly showed.
“What big news, my light?” Obscuros asked, tucking a loose curl behind Phosphora’s ear. Her midnight skin against his bleached white complexion was a beautiful contradiction in the flickering chandelier light.
“The pool of starlight flows again,” she whispered.
“We’ll tell her the news later, love. Let us focus on the celebration.” Obscuros sighed and kissed his wife on the forehead. “What is the status of the rebellion leaders, Procyon?”
In a flash, the cold, commanding ruler returned.
“Well, Father, I’ve located a mortal who knows where their base camp is, but I have yet to question him directly,” Procyon said, puffing his chest. Tethys scoffed under her breath and stepped beside her sister.
“So, in other words, you’ve yet to gain control of your realm,” Obscuros replied, keeping his eyes focused on the crowd.
“Well, I…” he began. Obscuros raised his palm, stripping the rest of Procyon’s words from his lips.
“It would seem your priorities may be misaligned, then. On the morrow, you will question the mortal, and you will find the rebellion leaders. It will be problematic for you if I am forced to get involved. Are we clear?”
Procyon swallowed the remaining words and nodded. “Clear as day.”
Tethys couldn’t help but find Procyon’s humiliation so deliciously satisfying.
The man he became in the presence of their father was far different from the one he so often strived to be.
The truth of his colors shown through in the face of darkness.
The tension between father and son was as thick as smog.
“It seems, baby brother, there’s much to be learned,” Altair chuckled, patting his younger brother’s back.
Tethys fought back the widest of grins. With the attention off of her for a moment, she glanced at her lieutenant from across the ballroom. His eyes remained fixed on her and nodded slowly. She returned the gesture and sucked in a breath.
“Father, I’m most grateful you’ve come to celebrate my first Ostara as queen,” she said. While Tethys truly was taken aback at the accepted invitations, she watched her father’s features with an unbreakable concentration.
“You are most welcome,” he responded. Tethys scanned his expression for even the slightest of faltering. She clutched the golden fabric draped down her side, waiting. Obscuros’s eyes narrowed as he awaited his daughter’s response.
Tethys opened her mouth to speak, but the words failed her. She hadn’t prepared for such casual conversation. The reminder of his cruelty during a time long passed hindered her thoughts as she scraped for something, anything to say.
Altair interjected with a report from the southern realm, pulling their father’s focus into a trap he unknowingly set. Of course her eldest brother would demand the attention of the evening. He’d done it their entire lives. Tonight would be no different. Perfect.
“Aquilaean shipwrights have discovered an interesting new technology that could further the mortal’s expansion past the continent,” Altair continued.
The conversation flowed between her siblings, and she felt smaller than a mouse as she laced her fingers behind her back and sidestepped closer to her mother.
There was no room for cowardice now. Innocent lives dangled over the hottest of fires, and their thread was rapidly burning away.
“Mother,” she whispered. Phosphora’s cloudy eyes snapped into focus, and Tethys couldn’t help but squirm at the heavy intensity of her gaze.
“Yes, dearest,” Phosphora replied, although it was unknown who she addressed. Tethys took the leap anyway.
“The midnight crocuses are in full bloom tonight, would you care for a stroll through the gardens to see them? I know they’re your favorite,” Tethys asked, taking her mother’s hand.
“That sounds wonderful. Perhaps we’ll run into Astraeus on our way,” she said.
Tethys flinched. The path before her demanded she tread lightly. She danced around hot coals, running the risk of burning her heels at any moment.
“Perhaps, Mother.” Tethys took her hand and the pair slipped down the far edge steps of the dais. Before she could lead her mother through the glass doors to the gardens, however, Polaris grasped her shoulder, ripping her back into the heat of the ballroom.
“Tethys, if Father notices your absence…” she hissed beneath her breath.
“He won’t think anything of it, Polaris, because you’re coming to the gardens with us. He trusts you with Mother. So let us stroll,” Tethys replied.
Polaris clicked her tongue and turned over her shoulder.
Altair continued his in-depth discussion of a new rudder shape the shipwrights were testing.
Tethys didn’t care about rudders, or the Aquilaean shipwrights for that matter, but in this moment, she was grateful he commanded their father’s attention.
She risked a glance at Procyon. Like a cowering child, he stood beside their older brother, tapping the rim of his chalice with obvious irritation.
Tethys gripped Polaris’s hand and pulled her down the dais steps, leading both women out to the gardens.
“This place truly is magnificent, dearest.” Phosphora’s silvery curls were nearly iridescent in the moonlight beaming from the sky’s apex. Polaris cursed under her breath, but fell in step as they started for the hedge maze.
“It truly is. The gardeners do their jobs well,” Tethys said, gently patting Phosphora’s hand as they crossed a stone footbridge laid over a peacefully gurgling brook.
Phosphora knelt beside the iron gate lining the riverbed and traced a delicate finger across one of the many crocus blooms sprouting along its edge.
Polaris paced across the brook, keeping her eyes fixed on the warm light emulating from the tall glass windows of the manor.
At this angle, Tethys could watch heads ebb and flow as the party continued.
Obscuros’s jet black hair, pulled neatly into the half bun he always wore, swished as he nodded toward his sons.
“Did you know, Tethys, that these flowers only bloom when the moon and sun are perfectly aligned? Their roots sense the sunlight’s opposite orbit where the bloom reaches for moonlight. The plant achieves perfect balance.” Phosphora brushed an amethyst petal between her index finger and thumb.
“They truly are incredible, Mother,” Tethys said, kneeling beside the primordial woman. “There’s something I’d like to ask you.”
Her lips parted, then shut as she debated her next words. Phosphora plucked a crocus and brought it to her nose.
“Perfect harmony. Just as it should be,” she whispered.
“Mother, I need you to tell me about Vorthal,” Tethys blurted.