Page 34 of Crown of Serpents (Curse of Olympus #1)
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Medusa still lay in the captain's cabin, the rhythmic lullaby of the waves a constant companion during her lengthy bed rest. Andromeda had returned twice to look after her – once to bring her some bread and dried meats and another time to apply more salve to her leg.
The cabin creaked open, revealing Perseus. He wore a veil on his giant, stubborn head. It looked ridiculous, but Medusa kept her features unbothered. She knew he'd come to check on her, but she wasn't about to make it easy.
“How are you feeling?”
“Never been better,” she retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
She wouldn't reveal the true extent of her pain, the throbbing leg and the splitting headache that had plagued her all day.
“Really? You've certainly looked better,” Perseus commented, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips.
She waved her hand in an obscene gesture. “Charming as usual, I can see now why all those Joppan courtiers were swooning over that silver tongue of yours … or perhaps it was your dancing skills?”
Perseus ignored her insult and strode to the desk, settling into a chair beside her makeshift bed. “I suppose as long as you can still ridicule me for my dancing, you can't be that bad after all.”
Insufferable man.
“What do you care anyway? Wouldn't it have saved you trouble had I succumbed to my injuries?”
Perseus’s smile faded, his face suddenly solemn. “I—I was worried. You saved me.”
“That I did.”
“Why?” Perseus's voice was barely a whisper as he leaned forward.
Medusa looked away, her gaze fixed on the wooden beams of the ceiling. She knew she couldn't avoid the question forever, but the answer eluded her. It was a question she'd been asking herself.
“I've found the remnants of the shackles on deck. You snapped them in two,” he continued, “you could have escaped, taken revenge on my crew. But you stayed. You saved me. Why give up your one chance at freedom? Why didn't you flee when I ordered Kleos to take you back to the ship?”
Why indeed?
Medusa knew what he wanted to hear. Instead, she replied, her eyes flashing with anger, “Certainly not, so you could pester me about it afterwards.”
It was a line drawn in the sand. A line that Perseus paid no heed.
“Why did you save me?”he repeated.
“Because you were willing to die for these men,” Medusa finally burst out, if only so he might leave her alone. “You told your crew to leave you behind, knowing that you didn’t stand a chance against the monster. You could have fled and claimed your reward. But you stayed ... you would have died for those Joppan guards, men you didn't even know. And I couldn't let that happen.”
They both were silent for a moment. Perseus tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made Medusa's skin prickle. He had looked at her many times — sleeping in her cave, blindfolded and tied up in that wretched cell, or dressed up as a priestess at the palace — but this gaze was different. It pierced through the layers she had built around herself, seeing her as she truly was. A warmth spread across her cheeks, unexpected and unwanted.
“Thank you,” he said.
Medusa remained silent, but a flicker of satisfaction ignited within her. For the first time in ages, she felt seen, understood — even if it was by a self-righteous hero who grated on her every nerve.
“I mean it … I'm in your debt.”
A sliver of hope unfurled within Medusa. Perhaps her freedom wasn't lost after all. But it all hinged on this man's character, on whether he paid his debts.
“Does that mean you'll let me go?” Medusa pleaded.
Perseus hesitated, and Medusa knew what his answer would be before he spoke.
“I can’t,” regret flashed in his hazel eyes.
Medusa didn't care whether he felt guilty or not. In that moment, she hated that shred of her soul that she had been unable to destroy — even after years of butchering and killing. Medusa cursed the tiny voice in her head that compelled her to care, demanded compassion, and told her that her violence was revenge and not justice. She much preferred the hissing of her snakes craving blood.
She averted her face from Perseus and stared toward the wall. This conversation was over, and she would pay him no further heed. He silently retreated and left her alone to her raging thoughts.
How could she have believed he was any different from other mortals?