Eudoxia
Ophelia doesn’t turn from where she and Alexander scribble on the board. “Well, that feels a little pessimistic.”
Zeno’s wide, brown eyes scrunch in apology. “Xia, what other option do we have?”
“We’re all going to die,” he says from his squished-in seventh seat at their four-person table.
Ophelia throws a piece of chalk at him—her new favorite weapon, it seems—and Alexander says, “You were going to die anyways, Laz. Better with us than with them, right?”
Lazarus fiddles with the useless ring on his finger and drops his head to the table.
That does nothing to deter Alexander. “Let’s go over everything,” he says, leaning against the back of Kallias’ chair. “Ophelia?”
Ophelia hops up and down in excitement, and Eudoxia tries and fails not to giggle because the plan is awful and she cannot stand for it.
“Alrighty, everyone,” Ophelia booms, using Alexander’s empty chair to climb onto the table.
“Four days from now is the final Trial and our moment of truth. Listen well, and we can do this.” She winks at Eudoxia and holds her hand out to Arete, who passes her a small stack of cards from the tarot deck Kallias gave her.
“The Emperor and the Empress will make their way to the left emergency exit, disable the camera, and signal when they’re done,” she yells, throwing cards at them.
When Eudoxia picks hers up off the floor—five feet away from her because Ophelia can’t aim for her life—it’s a stylized image of a woman titled ‘The Empress’.
“The Star and the Sun—” she continues, haphazardly tossing cards to the other side of the table.
“Shouldn’t I be the Emperor?” Alexander interrupts. “You do know I was the heir of an actual empire, right?”
“Let me finish!” Ophelia scolds in childish frustration. Alexander looks ready to argue back, ever a child himself, but Kallias cuts him off with an eye roll, grabbing his face with one hand.
“She’s right,” he says with finality. Then his expression unfocuses like he’s lost in Alexander’s eyes and he adds, much quieter, “You are the sun.”
Silence settles for a millisecond, and Alexander smiles so wide it’s almost heartbreaking. That snaps Kallias out of his trance. “Because you’re so blindingly horrific to look at,” he finishes.
Alexander laughs sweetly. “You flatter me, gorgeous.”
“Thanks for the interruption, now shut up,” Ophelia says, sticking her tongue out.
“The Sun and the Star will do the same on the right side. Kallias has the map down, but you two—” she points to Zeno and Eudoxia “—have to memorize it. I, the High Priestess, will trigger the emergency exit when I see the signal.”
She throws another card. “Lazarus, the Hierophant, you go out the losers’ exit and pick up Arete to meet us by Arc Eight’s port.”
Lazarus looks momentarily offended by his role in their tarot court but then sighs and nods. She wants to say he deserves it—he did threaten Kallias after all—but since then he’s been so subdued it’s worrying.
“As for tomorrow,” Ophelia continues, sliding a piece of paper and some money across the table, “here is the list of things you need to buy, Lazarus.”
“Laser pointers, handheld mirrors, keys, cloaks, and… wait, what’s the tia—”
Zeno puts a hand over Lazarus’ mouth to shush him. “Need-to-know basis,” he says, sharing a grin with Alexander.
“And here’s the money for the distraction, Alexander and Zeno.”
Alexander tosses Zeno one of the two coins Ophelia hands him. “Can’t wait.”
“Neither can I,” Zeno replies.
No one knows what they have planned, but it’s sure to be very stupid.
“Attention,” Ophelia shouts, stomping her foot on the table. “Ready to do this?”
A collection of ‘readys’ echo around the table, and Ophelia exclaims, “Then, my noble friends and brothers, consider yourselves dismissed by your honorable High Priestess.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Alexander and Zeno are idiots.
Their “very-thought-out-super-smart-don’t-even-worry-about-it” plan was to, halfway through their patrolling of Arc Three, pay someone to steal an old lady’s purse and then chase them around in circles to keep the Guardian on-duty’s attention.
What’s stupider than the plan itself is that the plan is actually working. With the other Auxiliaries spread around the Arc and the Guardian distracted, Lazarus is able to slip into the local Drachma Store unnoticed. She and Kallias linger nearby to watch the entrance.
It’s been ten minutes since Lazarus went in and neither of them has said a word to the other. She’s still pissed at him for what he said to her about Arete, and presumably he’s mad at her too. Not that he’s shown any signs of it, but does he ever?
It isn’t until they both snort at Zeno and Alexander’s antics that they even look at each other.
She assumes they’ll go back to being quiet, so she returns her gaze to Zeno in all of his perfection. Alexander’s words from days ago ring in her head. She knows how Zeno feels about her—the only reason nothing has happened is her. Because she’s scared.
Just like the second Trial said. He’s love and she’s fear. But she can’t let it end this way. If one of them doesn’t make it out, she couldn’t live with herself knowing that he thought all she wanted was to be friends.
If she doesn’t act on this soon, she’ll regret it, but she can’t even imagine what ‘acting on it’ would entail. The moment is never right, and what if she messes things up and he never talks to her again?
Just when she fades fully into her daydreams, Kallias breaks the silence. “Are you gonna do something about that?”
Does he initiate conversations now? When did that happen? “About what?”
“About you and him.”
“Did Alexander put you up to this?” she asks.
He chews on his lip and shakes his head. “I just thought… I don’t know. It would be a shame to waste that kind of love.”
She goes to deny it but finds she can’t even do that anymore. She’s too far gone.
So instead she goes on the offensive.
“You’re one to talk.”
Kallias scowls at her. “Why is that?”
“He wants you more than anything, Kallias.” They both know who she’s talking about. “And you’ve done a very bad job of hiding that you feel the same way.”
Kallias laughs sharply. “I know.”
“So, take your own advice.”
“That’s different.”
She scoffs. “How?”
“It just… is,” he says quietly, scowl gone and replaced by an indecipherable expression.
“What’s stopping y—”
“I got everything,” Lazarus interrupts with a plastic bag full to the brim. “Let’s hide this stuff in our pockets and give the signal to Alexander and Zeno.”
Eudoxia nods with a last wary glance at Kallias and whistles. Zeno and Alexander perk up like dogs and jog back to the Guardian on watch. She, Kallias, and Lazarus go to meet them.
“We got the bag, but he got away, sir,” Alexander says, a hand to his heart in apology.
Zeno puts his hand to his forehead in a stiff salute. “We tried our best.”
The Guardian is clearly perplexed. “It’s fine, boys. But maybe a little less flailing and a little more chasing next time.”
They nod with their whole bodies and, as soon as the Guardian is far enough away, break into laughter so hard they have to hold each other up for support.
Then they notice her and the others standing behind them and a smiling Zeno hops over to Lazarus. “Did you get what I asked you for?”
Lazarus nods and hands him something shiny that Zeno hides behind his back. Then he turns to her with a flourish. Alexander takes Kallias and Lazarus’ arms and pulls them to patrol further down the street.
“You know, I met someone from Arc Three when I first got here. I wonder if he’s around,” she hears Alexander say as they wander away, leaving her and Zeno alone.
“I was thinking—” Zeno says, buzzing with excitement.
“Did it hurt?” she asks, because she loves everything about him, but most of all, his laugh.
He doesn’t disappoint her, chuckling and flashing his blinding smile. But instead of their usual banter, he silently approaches her until he’s close enough that she has to crane her neck to look up at him.
Forms, he’s tall.
And handsome.
And adorable.
“What is an Empress—” he gets on a knee in front of her “—without a crown?”
A shiny plastic tiara with fake pink gems shimmers in his hands and she burns in a full-body blush that is surely dark enough to show on her dusk-kissed skin. The tiara is made for kids and it probably cost less than a drachma, but it’s beautiful anyway.
He beams up at her, waiting for her reaction, and she debates whether it’s inappropriate to kiss him with their friends shouting distance away, in the middle of a busy street.
Yes, it probably is.
But, oh, how she wants to.
She settles for a smile instead. “Stupid,” she says fondly.
“Darling,” he says with a wink. The jokey tone doesn’t stop her from flushing further. He stands and draws close enough for her to feel the ghost of his breath on her skin. He sets the crown on her head and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and she is at major risk of losing her mind.
“You’re beautiful,” Zeno whispers like a secret just for her.
“You’re mine,” she says back without thinking, too high off of his proximity.
He pulls back to meet her eyes. “Always.” Sincerity drips from every letter.
She bites her lip in thought and Zeno’s eyes drop to it, and you know what? Screw it. She needs to kiss him.
They’re less than a centimeter apart and she feels so foolish for not doing this earlier because she’s already intoxicated. But right before they connect, both of their rings ping loudly with a summons back to the Academy.
They jump away from each other in surprise and she can’t hide her sigh of frustration.
“Guess we have to go,” Zeno says, disappointed.
“Yes, let’s.”
They jog steadily to the rendezvous point and Eudoxia plays the almost kiss in her head over and over and over until they get home.
What if she never gets another chance?
What if she does?