Page 22 of Crown of Serpents (Curse of Olympus #1)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Andromeda sat on her ornate throne, hands patiently in her lap. Beside her, King Cepheus’s expression was stoic as they waited for the envoy to return from Ammon. But Andromeda saw through his facade of calm composure. She had overheard her parents’ frustrated arguments at night and witnessed the fear in his eyes when the first reports had arrived.
It had been three weeks since she had visited the temple. Since then, the kingdom had entered a state of emergency. In fear of a plague, King Cepheus had barricaded the palace gates and sent out the city watch to close off the harbour and evacuate the streets bordering the river.
That night, pyres had blazed beyond Joppa’s walls, darkening the evening sky with pillars of smoke. It was against Joppa’s custom to bury the dead before a week of mourning had passed. Yet, King Cepheus had ordered the immediate cremation of the corpses to prevent the illness from spreading.
However, when no more casualties occurred after the river had been evacuated, it became evident that Joppa was not afflicted by the plague. Instead, it seemed the river, supplying Joppa and the hinterlands with freshwater, had turned poisonous. Farmers were forced to burn their contaminated crops, and the kingdom had begun rationing wine, as not even the rainwater was safe to drink. King Cepheus’s advisors had estimated that their rations would last them two months before famine would strike.
The king had sent out his entire merchant fleet to their allies in Egypt and the numerous Greek islands, seeking food supplies and drinking water. None had returned. A monstrous sea serpent now terrorised Joppa’s shore, tearing through the wooden hulls of ships and devouring sailors alive. The wreckage had washed up on the beach only days after the ships had left the harbour.
Now, courtiers, advisors, and nobles filled the throne room, their whispers mixing with the rustling of delicate garments. Every Joppan of rank was present, anxiously awaiting the return of the envoy whom King Cepheus had sent to the Oracle of Ammon to seek guidance from the gods. Andromeda’s heart thundered in her chest as she fought the urge to fidget in her seat.
The doors swung open, and a weathered man with salt-and-pepper hair strode in. The hushed conversations ceased as all eyes turned toward the envoy.
He bowed deeply before the king and queen, his expression grave. “Your Majesties, Your Highness, I have returned with the words of the oracle.”
King Cepheus nodded solemnly. “Speak, good envoy. We are eager to hear what the gods have decreed.”
The envoy cleared his throat, his voice echoing through the chamber, “Poseidon's wrath has taken hold of the realm. The river flows with poison, and monstrous terrors emerge from the depths to plague our shores. The Oracle of Ammon foretells one path to redemption: the sacrifice of royal blood to Poseidon's creature. Within three days, she, whom they named more splendid than the nereids, must be bound to the rocks beyond our harbour, or Joppa shall never know peace. Such is the price for mortal hubris.”
A heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the crackling of the torches. Andromeda’s blood roared in her ears, and her father’s face paled as the weight of the prophecy sank in. Her life to save the kingdom.
“No!” Cassiopeia cried out, her voice filled with anguish. “There must be another way, another solution.”
Andromeda swallowed hard as she glanced at her mother, the queen’s eyes brimming with tears. She resisted the urge to hurry to her side and comfort her, digging her nails into her palms.
“Good envoy, you must tell us!” King Cepheus inquired, fire burning in his eyes. “Is this the only path forward that the Oracle of Ammon has presented us?”
The envoy’s lips spread in a pitiful smile. “I’m afraid so. The oracle has been adamant that sacrificing the princess is the only way to appease Poseidon’s wrath.”
Andromeda could sense the courtiers’ eyes burning into her skin. She focused on the crescent-shaped marks her nails had left on her palms. She had always known that she would one day give her life for her kingdom.
Chaos erupted in the throne room as the courtiers began clamouring. Some demanded that the oracle must have been mistaken, while others urged the king to heed the gods' warning.
“My King!” Cassiopeia begged, tears streaming down her face. “You cannot consider this sacrifice in earnest. Andromeda is the crown princess. She will birth the next great king of Joppa … you cannot sacrifice the future of our kingdom.”
Behind Andromeda, another voice beckoned, “King Cepheus, I understand your grief. Choosing between the love for your daughter and your people is the cruellest of choices, and for that, you have my deepest sympathies … but choose you must. Andromeda may be our future queen, but if we do not heed the gods’ demands, there may be no future for our kingdom.”
When Andromeda turned, a sly smile was curling on Phineas’s thin lips. Of course, this was a prime opportunity for her uncle to eliminate her as competition for the throne. Still, at her core, Andromeda knew that his words were true.
“No,” Queen Cassiopeia protested, “it was I who offended the gods ... If anyone should be sacrificed to appease Poseidon, it should be me!”
A few courtiers averted their gazes in embarrassment at Cassiopeia’s passionate display of emotion. Joppan queens were expected to be composed and serene, guiding the kingdom with gentle hands through wise counsel whispered into their husband’s ears. Even after twenty years in the city-state, Cassiopeia had not bent to Joppan customs.
Phineas cut into the silence, “Your motherly instinct is honourable, my Queen, but that is not the price the gods have demanded.”
“You seem intent on murdering our princess!” Queen Cassiopeia accused, her voice trembling with rage. “How can you ask this of your king? To slaughter his only daughter like a sacrificial lamb? Your only niece …”
“Enough!” King Cepheus’s voice thundered through the room, silencing his subjects. He sighed, rubbing his temples, while the audience awaited his verdict. “I have heard your petitions and demands, but this is a decision only I can make as king of Joppa and father of Andromeda … and I decree that we will not sentence Andromeda, my only heir and joy of my life, to death for a crime she has not committed. This is not the kind of justice we deal in Joppa; murdering innocents is not who we are as a people. Anyone who defies this order by threatening the princess’s life or conspiring to undermine my verdict is committing treason and will be sentenced to death. Is that understood?”
His words echoed through the silence as King Cepheus stared each of his subordinates down with his golden eyes, daring them to oppose him. None did. Andromeda knew that she should feel light with relief as each courtier lowered their head. Instead, guilt gnawed at her heart. Those people bowing in deference would one day be her subjects, hers to lead, hers to protect. She might be an innocent punished by Poseidon for her mother’s offence, but so were they. How could she let her people suffer when she had the chance to save them?
“No,” Andromeda’s voice quivered when she spoke. Despite her shaking knees, she stood straight, determination shining in her eyes. She turned to her father and steadied her voice. “Forgive me, my King, but it is not your decision to make … it is mine, as daughter of this kingdom and future queen. Though I am grateful for your mercy, I will gladly offer up my life to save my people.”
She stood on the podium for a few heartbeats, holding her breath, waiting for her father’s anger. Andromeda had never spoken in court before, save for the usual courtesies and flatteries. She had never contradicted her father before. This was the first decision she had ever made for her people, the first time she had acted not as a princess but as the queen she would never be.
A single tear rolled down King Cepheus’s cheek as he inclined his head. “Very well, my daughter. We shall respect your decision and honour your sacrifice.”
Suddenly, it was as if a wave rolled through the throne room, as every courtier followed their king’s example and fell to their knees, bowing to their princess. Only her mother remained seated, sobbing quietly. Andromeda stood there for a couple more breaths, a beacon of hope for her people. In three weeks, she would give her life for her kingdom