Chapter 12 #2
Three, four, five pairs of eyes flick toward the East Wind. And thus, my suspicions are confirmed. But why would Eurus send one of his own to be imprisoned? What sordid past does he hide?
I’m so engrossed in the conversation that I fail to notice dessert has been served until a faint whiff of rot stings my nostrils. As Eurus sinks his fork into the slice of lemon cake, I slap aside his utensil. He recoils into the back of his chair, one arm lifted against the unexpected strike.
The garden falls eerily quiet.
I fear moving too suddenly, breathing too forcefully.
Adder’s Bite: a commonplace poison used to numb a person’s senses, weaken their tether to reality.
Generally, it is scentless, but citrus oils effectively draw out the odor of rancid meat.
With the amount of wine consumed this evening, most would fail to notice.
Eventually, the East Wind lowers his arm, grips his knife with curled fingers. I imagine his expression, a blending of fear and humiliation. “You’ll have to excuse my assistant,” he clips out, the smoke of his voice boiling with suppressed rage.
Cackling laughter tunnels down into my eardrums. My face warms, and I hunch closer to the table. “I d-d-didn’t mean… I s-smelled…”
“I think,” the East Wind says, “it would be best if you excused yourself.” This, followed by a softly snarled, “Now.”
Lurching from my chair, I stumble along the table, clinging to whatever shred of dignity remains.
“Can’t you control that mortal of yours, Eurus?” someone drawls as I brush past.
There is a pause. “Mortals are slow to learn, as you know.”
I press a hand to my mouth to stifle the hitch in my breath. Slow, like some brainless animal in need of training. Her ladyship called me slow. Slow and burdensome and dull.
Once inside the palace, I veer toward the central staircase, desperate for the seclusion of my bedroom.
“The divine are notorious assholes.”
I spin around. A trim, dark-skinned god leans against the wall, arms folded, one ankle tossed over the other. His tight brown curls have been shorn close to the scalp.
“And you, my dear? Why, you are paired with the most notorious one of all.” His gray-eyed gaze drags upward, from the tips of my toes to my distraught expression.
“A mortal assistant. How curious. How very curious.” Pushing off the wall, he takes an intricately carved staff into his hand.
“You are too soft a thing to be dallying with beasts.” He offers me a long-stemmed rose with flourish. “For you.”
Seeing as I do not want to offend, I accept the flower with a nervous smile.
“I confess I was observing you during dinner,” the god says, “though I do not believe you noticed me.”
I shake my head. “There w-w-were many people p-p-present.” The soft pink petals brush my cheek. It helps calm me. “Are you participating in th-the tournament, too?”
“That is the intention.” With a twirl of his staff, he bows gallantly. “My name is Arinogimus, but my friends call me Arin.”
I dip my chin in acknowledgment. “Nice to m-meet you, Arinogimus.”
“Arin, please.”
I glance around nervously, but we alone occupy the hall. “Arin, then.”
“Will you tell me your name, or am I to wait with bated breath?”
“Min,” I whisper, for I am used to giving what others ask of me.
“Well, Min, I imagine you are eager to return to your quarters, so I won’t keep you. If you ever need help, don’t hesitate to seek me out.” He winks at me. “Luck to you, Min.”
Though my legs itch to flee, I force them into an unhurried amble as I continue up the stairs and down the corridor. I do not want to act more like prey than I already am.
After nearly an hour searching the halls, I finally locate our suite, stumbling inside to find Eurus planted in the middle of the main chamber. He whirls to face me. “Where have you been?”
I close the door warily. My bedroom is located a handful of strides to my right, but to reach it, I must pass the East Wind. “I got l-l-lost.”
“Lost.” I hear the curl of his mouth, a borderline sneer. My muscles pull taut. “How difficult can it be to find the suite?”
“There are over three hundred r-rooms in the palace,” I say. “I’ve only w-walked the halls once. You can’t presume m-me to know my way so s-soon after arrival.”
“You expect me to believe that? Where were you really?”
“I just told y-y-you,” I growl between clenched teeth.
“Where did you get that flower?”
I glance down at the rose in surprise. I’d forgotten I was holding it.
Frowning, I toss it onto the dining table. “One of the competitors g-g-gave it to m-me.”
Time drips out, and still the East Wind stares. “Ask yourself, bird. Why would one of the divine gift you a flower?”
“I don’t kn-kn-know,” I choke out. “You ask me these questions as if I have the answers, but h-h-how am I to know anything when you tell me n-nothing?”
“Whoever gave it to you probably suspected you would bring it back to our suite. What if it has been tampered with?” he presses, taking a step forward. The shadow of his wings cloaks me, soles to scalp. “What if there is some toxic coating along the stem, which would weaken me if I touched it?”
The gift was odd, but I hadn’t considered the implication. My mind, grappling with the humiliation of that dinner, sought only the shelter of tranquility. My shields were lowered. I let someone in, perhaps to the East Wind’s detriment. And yet, I have done nothing wrong.
“Th-th-think what you w-will,” I say, “but he w-was only trying to c-c-comfort me after how you treated me at dinner.”
“How I treated you?” Eurus thunders. “You ruined a perfectly good meal. I wasn’t even able to eat my dessert!”
“Did y-y-you even ask yourself why I s-s-slapped the fork out of your hand?” I manage.
“Do you think I like s-s-slapping utensils from people’s hands for fun?
” I was only trying to help him, and he tossed me to those slavering wolves.
I am silly enough to feel hurt over it. Perhaps Lady Clarisse is right.
I am a brainless fool. “I apologize if I s-s-startled you, but s-s-someone laced the cake with a poison called Adder’s Bite,” I go on, fury churning with hot shame.
“Clearly, someone wants y-y-you out of the way. Why are y-you punishing me for trying to h-h-h-help you?”
Those last words I spit vehemently, like small, sharp stones. My skin buzzes with a strange combination of apprehension and satisfaction. By the Mother, that felt good.
“I didn’t know,” he says. “I was trying to protect you—”
“No,” I growl back. “You h-h-humiliated me.”
“I humiliated you? You humiliated me!”
“N-not purposefully.” My voice cracks. “You either trust m-m-me, or you don’t,” I say, pulling away to place much-needed space between us. “But I w-w-won’t be treated like your enemy. I told y-you I would help. I want to return home. Why would I risk th-that?”
He can’t answer, or won’t. In the end, it makes no difference. The sound of silence is all the same.
“I’m going for a w-walk,” I say.
“Bird—”
Brushing past him, I slam the door shut behind me.