I have returned. Fortuna has blessed me with another chance—a chance to be with Erik.
“All is well,” Aidoneus says. “The damage was recent enough to reverse… especially since I understand Rapheal’s Birthright power well.”
“Then give her back to me,” Erik’s gruff voice says.
“She is awake. She can go to you if she wishes.”
Cradled like a child over my uncle’s knee, I immediately take his suggestion and shift towards Erik. There is no hesitation between us. Time is too precious to waste, especially with a life as short as my captain’s.
When he holds me, I feel just how fine my body is. A pleasant warmth fills my lower belly as every point of contact feels like sparks between us. Regardless of the tragedy that has surrounded us over the past day, my soul longs for intimacy, for comfort. Erik has always been that for me.
He is my safe place.
I catch my uncle staring at my knee, and I look down to follow his gaze. A shimmering blood that is not mine coats my leg. It’s Phaedra’s blood from when I held her.
Out of kindness for my uncle, I stretch a palm down and cover my knee.
As if shocked, my uncle flinches. “I apologize to both of you,” he says as his eyes flutter closed. “Raphael is… a pompous ass. But I am sure he didn’t intend to hurt you.”
“Bullshit,” Erik says. “He almost killed her!”
Aidoneus shakes his head. “He’s well-meaning but doesn’t understand Divine Birthright as much as he pretends to.”
When silence meets my uncle’s confession, he seems eager to continue. “Divine Birthright is different. If you are given the power of a god, even a demigod, you must be held in checks and balances. To give one the power to do whatever they wished without consequence would have resulted in the destruction of this world long ago…”
It feels like the King is speaking for his benefit rather than ours. The atmosphere becomes awkward and tense in the room, and I am itching to be free of the confines of the space.
Aidoneus stands and drags himself over to the enormous window. He stares out over his city, his domain, and remains silent. His shadows wrap in dark ribbons around him as his wings snap behind him.
What is one to do with a king? How does one comfort a being so powerful? Where is decorum in moments like this?
As though sensing our discomfort, my uncle lets out a hefty laugh. He gestures towards us. “Come and look, young ones,” he beckons.
Erik and I gather ourselves off the polished floor and draw near. In front of us is the statue. I hadn’t gotten a good look before, but now I see how broken and smashed it is.
Except for Fortuna, Terran, and Aidoneus. Not to mention a pair of gloriously large Angel wings.
“Well, shit,” Erik breathes.
“Indeed.” Aidoneus nods to the rest of the city. “They will say it is a prophecy, and my brother will take offense. I had better get it fixed soon.”
My eyes return to the wings. The way the Aidoneus statue looks like he is holding the disembodied wings almost appears romantic. Something about the image fills me with some sort of light. Hope blossoms within me. I meet my uncle's eyes. Despite his previous words, I see the same emotion blossoming there.
“King Hades, sections eighteen and twenty-six have reported the heaviest damages. Is there something more we can send in than the standard troops?”A voice invades the room through a speaker on my uncle’s desk.
He sighs and leaves us at the window. He returns to his chair and presses a button. The space before him flashes to life with screens, plans, documents, and graphs I don’t understand.
“Yes. Please send an extra auxiliary unit to every block. Tomorrow, I will come with the civil assessors to check on the damage costs. Anyone who needs a place to stay will be put in the Hotel Atheneum.”
One of my uncle’s dark gray palms scrubs against his face as a deep, shuddering sigh escapes him.
“As you wish, Your Highness.”
“Thank you,” he says. Aidoneus presses a button, and everything is gone just as quickly as it had emerged.
It feels like it is time for us to leave… but I don’t know exactly where to go. I expect Hades to erupt his wrath all over us. This is our fault.My fault.Conrad made that perfectly clear.
But the King just sits in his chair quietly for several minutes. At last, he sits forward, bracing his elbows on the desk, and says, “Sit, please.”