Page 13 of A Crown of Hopes and Sorrows

“Maybe you could use your travels as a similar opportunity.”

“For what?”

The voices grew in volume, a single deep one echoing off the walls as a dozen others hummed together in unison. She grinned. “Perhaps you can make some friends along the way.”

“I have friends.”

She cocked an eyebrow up. “Who?”

“You. You’re my friend. And Hyacinth.”

“We are your sister and your lover. I mean a friend. A person with whom you’ve never shared a bed with.”

I scoffed. “Sounds annoying.”

She chuckled. “Whatever. Come on.” She nodded down the hall where the voices had grown into a crescendo, notes rippling around like a waterfall rushing towards us. “We’re going to miss the ceremony.”

I groaned, which made her smirk again, but she grabbed my arm, and we strode into the next room where choral singers stood before a statue of Zeus which was carved with noble eyes and a scepter decorated with lightning bolts.

A sourness bloomed in my stomach.

Zeus.

My father.

Whom I would betray by joining Niria in aligning with Jupiter with the aim of bringing him down. He needed to fall, and I wouldn’t regret it, but something panged through me anyway. After all, a war meant trouble for Hyacinth and his kingdom. And if Zeus caught wind of our schemes… A shiver skittered down my spine.

I swallowed as Temi and I turned sideways to weave past people until we reached Hyacinth’s side. He lifted his face from the singers who had started into another song, and his hazel eyes met mine. Every worry I had washed away under the weight of his expression.

We’re probably dooming ourselves, I’d said to him, but as long as we’re in this together. I took a deep breath, shifting my gaze ahead towards the vocalists as they finished their second song. They bowed and walked out of the chamber, leaving a trio of priests who stepped forward. Hyacinth nodded in that direction, and we strode to the center of the room. A priest handed him a bottle of wine and murmured words of blessings over both of us. Hyacinth lifted the bottle, and the burgundy liquid splashed out, trickling over the altar, dripping down the notches in the stone, washing over the floor.

“May almighty Zeus hear our prayers,” Hyacinth said, “and accept our offerings and reverence.”

He handed the bottle to me, our fingers grazing and causing sparks to fly through me. The rich, dry smell of the wine filled the space, like it swam through us, as I splashed more on the altar. “Blessings on Zeus. May he honor his humble followers and guide us.”

My voice came out resonant and strong. We needed Zeus to believe that the increased dedications for him was due to us campaigning for his sake, so he didn’t look too closely at what we were actually doing.

“Blessings on Zeus,” the group echoed.

As soon as the ceremony ended, we strode out of the temple and back into the fresh air and endless skies of the world. Temi bowed and slipped into the crowd of the city. “So,” Hyacinth said as we continued alongside his guards. “Did you speak with your sister?”

“Yes. She wants me to go with you.” I frowned. “I still wonder if it’s the right call.”

Hyacinth’s hand twitched like he longed to reach out for me, but he pulled his arm back. We’d had a long conversation with his father, and they’d decided it was best if our relationship wasn’t public knowledge yet with war on the horizon. Rumors of him being involved with a god were one thing. Confirmation of that was another matter. The image he had to maintain as a prince exhausted me for him.

“Could I be utterly selfish for a moment?” he said.

I turned towards him. The kingly sharp profile of his features shimmered in the afternoon light, his eyes turning to liquid amber. “Yes,” I said, “of course.”

“I want you to go with me.”

A smile tripped up on my lips, and I ducked my face. “Even if we’re going to pretend that we aren’t together?”

“Only for the first part of the journey.” He squeezed in closer to me, our shoulders brushing. “And trust me, that will feel like a punishment. On that note, I thought I might ask Delon and Len to join us.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, but his voice grew heavy. “We’re maybe six months out from being in a war. A trip with friends”—he leaned in so close it probably broke protocol—“and with my partner before it all breaks out sounds fun. Aren’t you the one who told me I should do something solely for the joy of it?”