Page 88 of A Crown of Hopes and Sorrows

“Which one?”

She nodded to her left, and I shifted her, pulling her around, so that the opposite side pressed against me. She shuddered, and I draped my lips against her temple, kissing there. “Just try to stay with me, Pip.”

“Okay.”

Troshon jumped into his human form and gestured for me to stop walking.

“What is it?” I whispered.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” he said. “This all seemed a bit too easy.”

The ghost light disappeared, and a breath of air whipped over me like a blanket snatched away. A silver glowing swelled into the space, and Hera strode in, crossing her arms. “It did seem easy, didn’t it?”

And more of the minotaurs followed behind, Temi and two other unfamiliar women clutched in their hands.

Epiphany leaned in closer to me and then whimpered again, her face contouring with pain. “You shouldn’t have come for me.”

Hera smirked. “She’s right, you know?”

I tightened my grip on Epiphany and took an uneasy step back. But the creatures circled around, clawed fingers reaching out towards us.

36

Hyacinth

Vines climbed the side of Flora’s temple, and they bloomed in buttery, apricot tones. The stone of the building crumbled in certain parts, but it lay in the heart of a massive garden, flowers in every color and size and texture growing in bushes, trailing on ivy over the ground, fluttering along thin stems that reached towards the sun.

Mother would have loved to see it.

That thought ached through me.

Her loss seemed to ring brighter alongside my tangled feelings over Apollo.

I could remember her sitting in the gardens that bloomed around her, the silk of her gown draping across a bench. Emrin climbed a tree behind her, and Pip sat, all curved cheeks and chunky legs, on her lap.

I stretched out in the grass beneath her feet, and when she finished reciting a poem, I looked up at her. “I wish I could be a poet instead of a prince.”

She cocked her head to the side, her dark curls spilling over her shoulder. “Maybe you can be both.”

“No, Mother.” I sighed and returned to the scroll I had stretched out in front of me. “I won’t have time for both.”

“Cyn?” She didn’t speak again until I raised my face. “Promise me that if it brings you joy, you won’t give it up? Even a king—maybe especially a king—needs an outlet.”

“Okay,” I grumbled. But I had let my love of poetry fade anyway. Until Mother’s death. After that, poetry became a way for me to remember her, the cadence of her bright, happy voice hummed through my mind when I read the poems she’d recited for me. And jotting down a verse or two between all the pressures of my role reminded me of the beauty and goodness in life.

The last poem I’d written was for Apollo.

My heart ached at that, but I gave my head a shake, swallowing memories back, and stepped onto the path to the temple, Len at my side, our guards shadowing us. We made it to the steps when Flora walked out, her curls wildly billowing over her arms, a loose magenta gown draping over her figure and sliding off one of her shoulders. “Hyacinth,” she said through a giggle and then a hiccup, which she stifled by shoving her fist into her mouth. “How surprising it is to see you.” Then she laughed, so that her eyes wrinkled, and she doubled over.

I hesitated. This wasn’t the aloof Flora I’d seen at the Palace of the Four Winds. And she was drunk, wasn’t she?

She took another step, stumbling a bit before righting herself. I cleared my throat. “I hope you don’t mind us arriving unannounced—”

“Unannounced?” she parroted and then snickered again, sliding her arm through mine. “Oh, I knew you were traveling here, Prince. Forgive me for being—” She waved her free hands around as though that explained everything. “Dionysus is visiting as well. Not that you’ll see him. We had a late night, and he won’t wake again until at least moonrise.” Her nose wrinkled. “You know, it’s not our season until the spring.” She pulled me forward, and my muscles tensed where she touched me, but I continued walking with her. “Deities get bored. And that causes trouble, don’t you think?”

“Well…” A breeze fluttered through the blooms in the meadow, twirling through them as the wind shuddered their petals together. “I’ve never thought too much idleness served anyone well.”

Len shot me a look, and I gave a subtle shake of my head. I had absolutely no idea what was going on. Flora chuckled again, her body vibrating against mine. “No, you aren’t one who will face judgment for that sin, are you?”