Page 70 of This Divine Revelry

Glaucus looks at him with all the distrust a ten-year-old can muster, but then an idea hits him. ‘Can you show me how to magic up shiny rocks?’

‘Afraid not,’ Dionysus says. ‘But I can show you how to magic up snacks.’

He reaches for my brother and plucks a honeyed nut from behind his ear.

Glaucus gasps.

My mother’s hand falls to my brother’s shoulder, and I anticipate her polite refusal, her determination not to let Glaucus leave her sight, but instead she smiles. ‘That would be splendid. Please do take him up, he can show you the way.’

Glaucus takes Dionysus’s hand and he leads him out, pausing only to give me the slightest nod. A sort of encouragement.

My mother rushes to clasp me in her arms the moment they’re all gone. She feels so frail – stooping in on herself and thinner than I remember. I count the grey in her hair and wonder how many strands of it I’ve added.

‘What are you doing here?’ my sister demands.

‘Phaedra,’ Mother says, letting go of me to face my sister. ‘Be –’

‘What? Nice? Polite? Like Ariadne was just now?’ She narrows her eyes at me. ‘Berating poor Theseus like that. Why? Because he chose me instead of you?’

I blink at my sister, but I’m too … messy after that dinner. All the jabs and clever, smug little interjections colliding with the prickling, unsettling feeling Theseus’s gaze drilled into my skin.

‘He did choose me, Phaedra,’ I say, trying to be as stern and calm as I possibly can. Any emotional reaction will only prove her point that my hurt is what drove me here – which is not exactly wrong, but it doesn’t cancel out the love that pulled me here too. ‘He promised me we’d wed once we reached Athens. He swore it on the River Styx – then abandoned me on an island so that we’d never make it to the city. I’m not jealous he’s marrying you – I’m scared he’ll betray you like he did me.’

‘He says there was a vision,’ Mother tries.

‘And you believe him?’

‘No, of course not.’ She reaches for my arm – like she must constantly reassure herself I’m here. ‘But Theseus has declared it before our entire court – and the members of his own retinue too. He couldn’t harm Phaedra; she has the protection you never had of this all being highly public.’

Phaedra makes a small self-satisfied hum and turns to me with her arms crossed, almost expectant of whatever it is I’ll say next to try to ruin this for her.

I doubt I’m trying to save you, you little brat will go over well.

‘Of course he can harm Phaedra. Men harm their wives all the time.’

‘He is not like that,’ Phaedra protests.

I glare at her, thinking of those long nights alone on the ship. I have no doubt that’s what he’d do to her in Athens: keep her from the rest of the court, make her see the Athenians as enemies to be shielded against, isolated and alone with only him to turn to. It’s what he wants – a wife wholly loyal to him.

And I’d already proved beyond doubt that my loyalty is fickle.

I take a breath, casting my gaze around like those guards might be spying again. Voice low, I look at my mother and sister and admit: ‘We had sex. The night he abandoned me.’

‘Did he force you?’ my mother asks, horrified, stepping forward again as Phaedra gawps. My mother raises a hand to the scratches Hera carved across my face – as though it might have been him, etched so deeply they’d linger even now.

‘No,’ I say quickly. ‘He just …’

Lied? Manipulated me? Made me think the person I was consenting to was someone else entirely and, if that was the case, if I didn’t really know what I was agreeing to, was I really agreeing at all?

But I can’t unpack all that right now, not without breaking down. I’ll bleed across the palace floor – and my family savour blood.

‘Well, there you go,’ Phaedra says curtly. ‘Of course he wasn’t going to marry you after that. He could hardly take a wife who didn’t have her virginity intact. You should have known better.’

‘Phaedra,’ Mother snaps, turning to her sharply. ‘Your sister is clearly upset.’

‘Well, cry about it, then. Preferably far from here. I didn’t make these rules – I just know how to follow them. It’s not like the repercussions of disobeying are hidden from us. You knew full well what would happen.’ Phaedra sniffs, barely deigning to look at me. ‘You were awfully lucky to find Dionysus. If Theseus tells him what you did, you’ll place your marriage in jeopardy, so you might want to run as far from here as possible.’

It’s exactly what I expected – the judgement I knew would come my way if the world knew, levelled at me in my sister’s voice, and I know it’s nonsense, but suddenly my own words are sticking anyway. ‘Is that it?’ I ask, voice wavering. ‘Those rules you’re clinging to say that a man is going to hurt someone. So make sure it’s not you. Be purer than the last girl, better than the last girl, more obedient than the last girl so he hurts her instead. But why aren’t we asking why the men are hurting any of us at all? They want our division precisely so they can get away with this.’