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“Don’t console me—don’t even look at me, Essos. I swear to the gods, I will turn the next person who tries to console me into a fucking weed.”
“No consolation here.” He turns to his former righthand person turned Fate in disguise. “Call me whatever you want, Sybil. I just want to get us closer to resolving everything. The sooner we do that, I believe the saying is, ‘Happy wife, happy life?’”
“I believe the saying is your wife wants a taco from that taco stand in Santa Monica that is probably overrun by zombies, because as far as everything goes, we are batting zero against Posey.”
“Is your metaphor chess or baseball? I want to make sure I’m not mixing my analogies.”
I give Essos a withering glare.
When we finally get down the stairs, Rafferty is standing in the foyer, talking with Luminara.
The Goddess of Harmony has been a ghost since the almost-wedding, and I’ve been thankful for it. I still don’t trust her entirely, as she was the couples therapist for Galen and me. Every action Luminara took felt like it did more harm than good. Her only saving grace is that Sybil loves her and insists that she had the best intentions. For now, she’s not a succulent, if only as a favor to the Fate. I’ll give her a chance to explain herself once I find a spare bit of patience.
For being the God of Memory, there is nothing memorable about Rafferty. His brown hair is shorn so close to the scalp that I’m not even positive of the color, and his brown eyes offer nothing distinguishing about him. He is a perfectly average man who blends into every crowd.
“Rafferty.” I infuse my greeting with as much lightness and positivity as I can.
He bows to Essos and barely spares a glance for me. “Your Majesty. Goddess. I was surprised to receive your invitation.”
Essos bristles at the show of disrespect, but I only smile. Luminara sees the smile and shrinks back. “It wasn’t an invitation, Rafferty, it was a summons and, in my home, you will show me the respect I am due.” I clasp my hands in front of me. Dave, Shadow, and Spot circle the god, giving the impression they’re looking for an excuse to sink their fangs into him. Spot in particular gets up close and personal while sniffing Rafferty.
“Oh? I wasn’t aware that a king’s kept mistress was due any special greeting. Those sorts of details are hazy. As far as recent memory serves, King Essos has no bride. Rumor has it his top pick at the Calling chose his brother.”
Plants. Once I get my tacos, I’m turningeveryoneinto fucking plants.
Before I can do something I’ll regret, I take a deep, calming breath through my nose. We called him here for help. He could use his powers to make Essos and I forget each other—not that I think the others would stand for that.
“That isenough,” Essos barks, shadows bleeding into the edges of the room. “She is my consort and my wife, and you will treat her as my equal.”
Rafferty looks smug and it makes me want to beat him with something large, heavy, and dull for a very long time.
Luminara clears her throat, and I cut my gaze to her. “Actually, Your Majesties, Rafferty is correct. You two need to be wed again for Daphne to receive her full honorifics. They were afforded to her during the Trials mostly out of confusion, and because of your absence, sir, but it was not rightly done.”
I grab Essos’s forearm and dig in my nails. His suit jacket was left behind in our room, so I’m sure to draw blood.
Essos closes his hand over mine and gently pries it off. He slides our fingers together and gives me a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t much care. We can deal with whatever trivial nonsense is required to fix this later.”
“That would be a wedding,” Rafferty says with a grin before reaching out and pressing two fingers to my forehead.
My knees go weak, and I fall for what feels like eternity.
“What do you mean,it’s not that simple?” Essos snaps, jumping up from his seat beside me. Titus is leaning against the fireplace, sipping his scotch.
I want to reach for Essos, pull him back down on the couch, but he’s already across the room in front of his father.
We’re in the home of the God and Goddess Supreme, discussing Essos’s proposal. I understand that we’re not in a position that lends itself to romanticism and whimsy, so we have to get permission to get married. It’s a formality that means little to us both. Essos and I know that we love each other, that we have what it takes to rule the Underworld, but we still need Titus and Octavia to confirm that we’re allowed to wed.
I uncross and then recross my ankles the other way, leaning forward so I can hear all the ways in which I’m not good enough for Essos.
“I mean what I said. You’re to be a king. You can’t marry just anyone.” Titus chuckles to himself, clearly amused by having his eldest son grovel before him. “You need someone who knows when she’s outmatched, and your little flower girl is trying to punch above her weight class.”
“Don’tspeak about Daphne that way, Father. Xavier is to be a king as well, and yet he married Posey practically the day he met her.” Essos glances back at me, an apology brimming in his eyes. We expected some opposition, but not an outright refusal.
“What do you need of me?” I ask, straightening my back so it’s a mirror of Octavia’s. She’s been suspiciously silent. I know that between the God and Goddess Supreme, if you want anything done, it has to go through her.
“You don’t need to do anything. There won’t be any hoops for you to jump through. We have been through and done enough.” Essos leaves his father’s side and sits down beside me, taking my hand. He’s talking about Ellie, the wood nymph he cheated on me with. I’ve forgiven him for it, and we’ve spent the last year and a half working past the trust issues that still come up. Ellie’s not our only issue, though. Another is how furious Galen was when Essos and I got back together. He punched Essos in the face then disappeared for months.
“She’s caused enough strife in this family, don’t you think?” Octavia drawls before taking a sip from her wine glass. She uncrosses her long, thin legs and stands up, smoothing her perfect pencil skirt down even though it’s devoid of any wrinkles.
