Page 35 of Queen to the Sunless Court (Brides of Myth #2)

“I’m aware of the risk, Xanthos,” he finally replied. “I appreciate your sober point of view. Still, I’m not letting her fight for my son alone.”

“Because you’re emotionally involved with her,” Xanthos finished, resigned.

Theron allowed silence to settle after his advisor’s statement, trying to unravel the puzzling undercurrent of bitterness and disapproval in his friend’s voice. “Why do you make it sound like there’s something wrong with it?”

“I see nothing right about having an affair with a woman who cannot have a future with you.”

The sconces crackled in a dry crescendo.

Night was settling over Anthemos—a fragrant, warm midsummer night with countless stars sparkling against the crystalline dark sky, framed by high windows and softened by silken curtains—while Xanthos’ words seeped like ink into clear water, darkening and obscuring everything. Worse, his disapproval stung.

Why?

Baffled, Theron glanced at Xanthos again, trying to decipher the reason. He had always viewed Xanthos as a competent, shrewd, and well-informed man who’d come to power advising his father, and continued advising him tirelessly once his father was gone.

The same man whose advice had led him to marry Amatheia, which had proved to be the worst mistake of his life… but it was the best for Hesperis.

And connecting those two things again shook him to the bone because he suddenly had to confront the uncomfortable notion that Xanthos could have been wrong.

That the man he’d trusted almost unquestionably, whose advice he would blindly follow, was, after all, only human and capable of errors.

Not because he lacked wisdom, but because he lacked something else.

Theron blinked. “You’ve never married, Xanthos. You don’t have children or close family. To my best knowledge, you’re unattached—unless, of course, you’re keeping it so well under wraps that even I don’t know about it.”

A gentle breeze wafted in from the window, ruffling Xanthos’ papers as if someone had run a curious hand over them, but Xanthos remained still, watching him like a statue. “Your point?”

It wasn’t like Xanthos to miss anything. Yet Theron was suddenly forced to chip away at the image he had in his mind: that of a devoted man of state who had dedicated his whole life to the royal court, isolating himself in the lonely fortress of duty he had built around himself.

To some extent, he had relied on Xanthos as he would on his father.

But Xanthos was not his father. He was a man who viewed everything through the lens of what was best for Anthemos.

And not necessarily what is best for me.

Theron rose and stepped toward the desk, glancing at the papers arranged at neat angles, all filled in with Xanthos’ strong, clear handwriting.

He looked around the office—always clean, furnished with practical items. Nothing out of place, nothing overly decorative, but everything of superior quality, excelling, much like Xanthos himself.

“My point is that perhaps you are not qualified to advise me on matters you might not fully understand,” he said softly.

Xanthos rose as well, sizing him up. “Care to elaborate?”

“Not everything can fit into a neat analysis or add up correctly. Not everything has to make sense. People aren’t pieces to be moved around or dismissed when they’re no longer needed.”

“I’ve never said that.”

“You’ve suggested that I allow Calliste to fight alone.

Just so you know, she was doing just that, until she nearly paid for it with her life.

Only then did she confide in me, and only then did I learn she’d been sacrificing her health so Kalias could get better.

Your suggestion is, at the very least, disappointing. ”

Xanthos continued to evaluate him. “She was making her own choices.”

“Which proved to be selfless,” he said, taking a deep breath.

“It took me a while to admit how I feel about her. But now that I know, it’s not going to change.

You need to accept that once this is resolved and over, I’ll do everything in my power to persuade her to stay here. At the court. With me .”

“And what will be her role?”

“Whatever she chooses, as long as she stays.”

Xanthos looked down at the desk and his papers, a telling line forming between his brows. “I hope you’re aware you can’t keep her as your mistress here and expect no one to make a noise about it.”

“Oh, well. Then I’ll have to make it official and marry her.”

Xanthos’ eyes widened as his head snapped up. “You’re not serious.”

“No? I’ve always put my kingdom’s best interests before my own, and I’m tired of denying myself everything,” he replied. “I already have a legitimate heir. There’s nothing stopping me from taking her as my wife, except if she says no.”

His advisor continued to search his face, as if expecting a joke. “The Assembly—”

“Anyone who objects will have to leave the Assembly,” Theron cut in.

“You know nothing about her, Theron. This isn’t wise.”

“I know enough, and if she saves Kalias, that should be reason enough for anyone who needs one. I don’t.”

Xanthos watched him, unblinking. “You’ve thought it through, even though you said you’d never remarry.”

“I changed my mind, but only slightly. It’s her or no one.”

A charged moment passed between them, broken when the door squeaked and Lykos walked in.

“Could you ask your captain to learn how to knock?” Xanthos huffed, settling back in his chair.

Theron turned on his heel and strode toward Lykos, noticing his strange expression. “Found him? Calliste’s husband?”

Lykos briefly glanced at Xanthos. “Your information was correct.” Then he nodded. “Yes, I have.”

“Did you bring him here?”

“No. But I have someone who can give you more information.”

Theron looked closer at his friend, puzzled. “Why couldn’t you detain him?”

“Because…” Lykos scrubbed his hand over his face. “It’s complicated. It’s best if you go down and speak to this woman I brought. She’s in the search chamber.”

He was getting more and more intrigued. “Fine. Let’s go,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at Xanthos. “Think about what I told you.” Then he strode out, heading for the nearest private staircase leading to the part of the palace where his sentinels and warriors were stationed.

Lykos paced beside him.

“Details, please. What is going on? If you found him, why didn’t you bring him to me?”

“Because you’d probably tear him apart,” his friend replied, his voice distant. “And I wouldn’t blame you, but you need to listen to this woman before you race to get your hands on him.”

Theron frowned. “Who is this woman?”

“She’s… Hmm. I guess the best word is looking after him. ”

“And you’re sure you’ve found the right man?”

“Oh, no doubt. The name is correct, and I confirmed the other details. And trust me, I’d be the first to strangle him but…

it’s just not what I expected,” Lykos said with a flicker of hesitation.

“At all. But then, I went in there blind, because you didn’t tell me anything about Calliste’s papers—why did he divorce her? ”

“He stated that she was disobedient, violent, and attacked him, among other things.” He kept the mention of Calliste’s barrenness to himself.

“Interesting,” Lykos stopped in front of solid oak doors reinforced with steel bands. “Well, she’s there. I didn’t tell her the king would speak to her, but she’ll probably recognize you, so…”

Theron stared at the weathered door of the search chamber, took a deep breath, and then walked in.