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I don’t know how to solve this. One chapter in particular keeps calling me back to it, but I can’t figure out its significance.
“It calls for the blood of the King and a queen.” I startle at the voice and slam the tome shut before twisting to face my mother-in-law.
“Iamcapable of reading,” I snap.
“I wasn’t certain—you seemed to be stuck on the same page for the last forty-five minutes.” She brushes a strand of blonde hair away from her face as she looks around the paddock.
Beside me, Dave growls. Octavia glares at him until he whimpers.
I snap in Octavia’s face, drawing her attention back to me. “Hey, leave my dog out of this.”
Octavia turns her stare on me, one perfect eyebrow arching. “Do you want my help or not?”
“Galen isn’t back, so I’m not sure what you’re doing here.” I try to force as much annoyance and anger as possible into my voice. I don’t want her to know how afraid of her I am. She radiates waves of raw energy in a way that Titus never did. Titus used specific shows of power to demonstrate all he was capable of, but Octavia loves to make sure everyone feels her power all the time. She already choked me once till I blacked out, and I may be immortal, but until my baby takes their first breath, they’re not.
“I came to make another show of good faith. My daughter suggested it, since my first one wasn’t good enough for her. So, I’m here to tell you that to complete the spell to start returning the dead to the Underworld, you need the blood of its king and a queen. That will reopen the gates of the Underworld and call the loose souls home.”
“You keep sayingaqueen, like anyone would do.” I wait for her to fill in the blanks and gesture to the other side of the table where I’m seated. She looks at the picnic table with disdain, but I don’t know what she expected, considering we’re beside a barn.
“Yes, Helene’s blood would satisfy the requirement, as would Posey’s, but to keep the gates to the Afterlife open, it would be best to use the blood of the Queen of the Underworld.” She perches on the very edge of the bench in her black pencil skirt and Louboutin shoes.
“But I’m still not technically queen,” I say more to myself than her. I twist the problem in my head like a Rubik’s cube, trying to find all the different ways that I can make this work. Maybe I need to go along with the ridiculous idea of getting married to my husband in the middle of this conflict.
“I never liked you for my son. He was a prince, and you insisted on holding him back and keeping him down. That drama with the that nymph girl was embarrassing. Do you know how many nymphs and goddesses and mortals my husband fucked? I’m sure the ends of your hair would curl from shock.”
“Just because that’s how your marriage was doesn’t mean that’s how I wanted my marriage to work.”
“Of course, you were always too good for us. My son was in love with you, infatuated, and it ruined my family.”
I realize that she’s no longer talking about Essos. I meet her eyes defiantly. “Is that why you wanted me to do my own Trials? To derail my marriage to Essos?”
“It would have been simpler if it had. You and Essos would have never married, and I could have chosen a more appropriate wife for him to rule the Underworld by his side. Anyone would have been better than a little spring goddess. You would have moved on from my sons eventually. I thought my son would tire of you faster if you just did what was expected and gave in to him.”
“So, you would rather I had rolled over for Galen? That I spread my legs and just let him get it out of his system?”
“Nothing so crude, but you promised him one date.”
I push up from the bench, no longer interested in her help. “Your family is un-fucking-believable. Essos is your son too. Did you not care for his pain? Did you not care that his wife was dead? Never mind my personal stake in this whole thing, but what kind of mother chooses to comfort the man who murdered her other son’s wife? I know parents play favorites and claim not to, but that is some next-level shit, Octavia.”
“The kind of mother that wants to protect her only child who was born of love,” she shouts at me. Her careful demeanor is gone, shattered. The sky above us darkens with storm clouds. Dave hops off the bench and growls at Octavia, baring his teeth at her.
“Heel,” I order him. He looks at me dubiously but sits.
Octavia rolls her eyes. “Those dogs are a menace.” She crosses her arms.
“The only menace here is you. If you came here to talk all about your son…” My words trail off as I finally realize what she said. “What do you mean,onlychild born of love?”
Octavia freezes. I hold my tongue, knowing that if I remain silent, she will fill the void… and she does.
“Titus wasn’t Galen’s father. Lairus was.” Now it’s Octavia’s turn to wait for me to fill the silence. The God of the Sun being Galen’s father has me stunned.
“That’s why Esmaray left,” I muse, thinking of the moon goddess. So many things slot into place—how Galen never quite fit, how Titus never gave him a kingdom. “Did Galen know?”
“No, but Titus did. After the twins were born, intimacy wasn’t something we shared again. Esmaray had caught Lairus and me together after Galen was born, and so she left. Titus had more important things to deal with than his wife’s infidelity. It was never something we discussed, and once the boys were settled with their roles, we stepped apart from each other. I never liked you for my son—”
“You said that,” I snap.
She scowls at me. “I never liked you for my son, but you were good for him. You made Essos happy, and I assume you still do. I just wanted the best for Galen. He was never given the same chances as his brothers. He was fixated on you, and I thought perhaps you could give him that same happiness.”
