Page 38 of Queen to the Sunless Court (Brides of Myth #2)

Her gaze darted in panic to an expressionless Captain Lykos, with an owl-eyed, flushed and grinning Melitta holding a tray of food beside him. Behind them, Drakon and Philon blinked in unison.

“Oh, gods,” she breathed.

“If it isn’t my trusted polemarchos ,” Theron quipped, his eyes still locked on her face as if memorizing her incandescent embarrassment. “Here to tuck me into bed and wrap the blanket around me.”

“You bloody wish,” Captain Lykos huffed. “Wrap the blanket yourself, assuming you’re sleeping in your own bed tonight.”

Melitta gave a strangled giggle, and the sentinels looked away, smirking.

But Calliste didn’t miss the cold undercurrent in the captain’s voice, just like the day he’d taken away her knife on the way to the palace.

His hands were on his hips, and while his pose seemed relaxed, there was a tension about him, draining the humor from his words—bright on the surface, but beneath the cheer glinted fangs and claws.

That tension seemed to be directed at Theron.

Theron straightened up, as if picking up on it as well. Still holding her, he turned the doorknob and opened the chamber door, allowing her to retreat.

And she was grateful because she didn’t know where to look.

“Goodnight, Calliste,” the king said, amused, unwinding his arm from her waist with a distant fire in his eyes. Then he glanced at Melitta, who appeared by his side. “Snacks?”

“From my mum. I fetched them as soon as Captain Lykos told me you were back.” Melitta also seemed unsure of where to look as she walked backwards into the room.

“Wait. I see a cheese pastry,” Theron picked up a square from the plate before closing the door, leaving Calliste alone with her friend.

A moment of silence passed. Melitta turned from the door and stared at Calliste from a short distance, separated by the tray, her cheeks still glowing. “He... he stole the last cheese pastry I had for you.”

Calliste scanned the tray, noticing an empty plate with a few flakes among other dishes, and she glanced back at Melitta. “I’m not chasing after him to get it back.”

“He wouldn’t let you have it. It’s his favorite.” Suddenly, Melitta giggled. “Why are we talking about cheese pastry? Oh, gods help me, if that wasn’t just... Oh.”

“Embarrassing?” Calliste offered, covering her burning cheeks with her hands.

“What? No.” Gaiane’s daughter hurried to the table between the two armchairs, set down the tray, and turned around with a mischievous smile.

“Gods help me if it wasn’t what I was hoping for.

I even prepared the room just in case, well.

..” She wiggled her eyebrows, her dark eyes sparkling. “ You know. ”

Only then did Calliste notice the burning pillar candles on the table where she usually ate, more candles on the bedside tables, rose-smelling incense smoking in the window burner, and new bedsheets. “Oh, that’s... hmmm, thoughtful of you, but he said—um, never mind.”

Melitta sucked in a breath. “ What did he say ? ”

Calliste stared at her, desperate to say more but hesitant to repeat something he appeared to have considered in enough detail.

I’m holding back because I’m saving our special first time for my bedchamber, where you’ll let your hair down on my pillow and you’ll give yourself to me on my sheets.

“Just... that he might have a different location in mind.”

“Oh gods,” Melitta squeaked, clutching her chest and bouncing on her tiptoes. “His bedroom? Do you know what this means?”

“That he’s a typical, territorial man?”

“Calliste, no woman in this palace, except my mum, has access to his private quarters. Well... Eumelia has always been invited to his study to play, but—” She paused, staring at the floor.

Calliste’s skin prickled, and she exhaled slowly. “He said they’re only friends.” She bit her lip. “He wasn’t lying to me, was he?”

Melitta looked up, her gaze sincere. “No. I’m not at liberty to say more, but he wasn’t lying.”

Relief hit her harder than she expected, and she walked to the armchair and slumped into it, absently glancing at the food—and feeling hungry just from seeing it. “You know you’re in your mum’s good graces when your supper looks like this.” She smiled.

“No doubt.” Melitta brightened up again.

“She’d call it a modest selection, but there’s a cheese platter with honey and fig preserve, brined olives, flatbread, stuffed grape leaves with rice—these?

People have had fistfights over these,” she chuckled.

“Sweet sesame cakes, candied orange peel, mint tea, and… leftover cheese pastry flakes.”

“I can’t eat it all by myself. Would you like to join me? I see two cups.”

“One was for the king. But… yes, of course.”

A cozy, moonlit hour seeped through the curtains, awash with the rosy scent of candles, fresh linen, and the sweet note of mint wafting from the glazed clay teapot.

Melitta sipped her tea like a princess and delicately nibbled on the sesame cakes, but her smile was naughty.

“Stop it,” Calliste said.

“Stop what ?” Melitta made innocent eyes.

“Laughing.” Calliste gestured vaguely toward the corridor. “This was mortifying.”

“Eh, no, it was not. I get caught kissing men all the time, and nobody lifts an eyebrow.” Melitta burst into laughter at Calliste’s shocked expression. “What? It’s nice to have a pastime. Men are mine. Last time I caught you two, you were naked against him. This is definitely an improvement.”

“Last time it was only you. Now it was a small crowd. It’s the opposite of improvement. What’s the opposite of improvement?”

“Relapse,” Melitta burst into giggles again. “And no, it’s not. The people who saw you are his friends. They won’t say anything or judge you.”

She was about to argue that Captain Lykos was certainly judging—and for reasons she couldn’t fathom—but another thought intruded, sharper than Lykos’ glare. “Perhaps, but I’m a High Priestess, and this doesn’t look good, no matter how you spin it.”

Melitta gave her a long, puzzled look, then sighed. “Why? Does being a priestess mean you can’t act or feel like a woman anymore?”

Calliste’s mouth dropped open as she stared at her friend.

“Ah, so that’s it,” Melitta said soberly, setting down her cup. “Are you not even supposed to think about it? Is there a punishment awaiting you when you return to Mount Hellecon?”

“No,” she finally replied. “Aside from the pain of leaving him behind when it’s all over... just the agony of separation. That would be my punishment.”

“Funny, that.” Melitta sighed, curling up in the armchair and fixing her eyes on the candlelight.

“I’d choose the ache of separation over the torment of unfulfillment any day.

Even if my happiness was temporary, I’d take it, especially if I had the freedom to do as I please.

Which you both do—you’re unattached and free to follow whatever path you choose.

Not to mention, you seem made for each other. ”

Calliste’s breath caught. “How do you know?”

“Oh, come now. I haven’t seen the king acting or smiling like this since… Well. Never. He glows in your presence... No, you both glow together. It’s beautiful to watch.”

For a breath, no longer, Calliste allowed herself to drink up those words, swallowing them like mulled wine in winter, hope like spice on her tongue, flowing, smoothly twisting around her heart before she let it vanish. “There’s no way of knowing how it could be with me and the king, Melitta.”

“Oh, Calliste, Calliste,” Melitta exhaled, wrapping her arms around her legs. “Let me tell you a little secret, but you must swear by all that’s divine not to tell anyone.”

“Not a soul, Melitta.”

A deep blush spread across Melitta’s face. “The man I told you about—remember? The one I fell for when he taught me numbers?”

“Your secret love?” Calliste asked, suddenly breathless at the vulnerability in Melitta’s eyes. “Yes, I remember.”

Melitta hugged her knees tightly to her chest. “It’s Kassandros,” she whispered.

Calliste recalled the tall, dark-haired warrior who’d barely spoken during their journey to Anthemos. “Oh... the Royal Treasurer?”

“Yes,” she smiled sadly. “He’s also happily married.”

“Oh—I see. Oh, Melitta, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. The last time I cried about it was at his wedding—long ago.

By the end of the day, my eyes were so puffy I couldn’t see anything.

” She gave a sad laugh. “Why am I telling you this? Because I wish I’d been bolder with him before he got engaged and married.

I wish I’d made my interest obvious instead of hiding it, fearing his rejection.

Maybe things would have been different.” Her eyes brimmed, but she blinked back the tears and picked up the candied peel, nibbling on it with a faraway gaze.

Calliste rose, stepped over to her, and embraced her tightly. “I wish it had been different for you.”

Melitta smelled of orange, mint, and luxury. “Unsurprisingly, me too.” She laughed softly in Calliste’s ear. “But a hug is always welcome. Thank you.” She eased out of the embrace. “Now take a seat, because I’m not done here. I’m not telling you my sorry story for nothing, Calliste.”

“Oh?” Calliste looked at her, trying to make sense of something puzzling—because Melitta had said Kassandros was happily married, yet throughout the journey, he’d worn black and seemed shrouded in sadness—not exactly the image of a happily married man. I’ll have to ask Theron about it. “So why?”

“Here’s why.” Melitta sipped her mint tea and reached for another candied orange peel. “Don’t weigh the uncertain future against the happiness at your fingertips. In the end, you’ll regret the chances you didn’t take far more than the ones you did.”

“But… my future is set. I already know my path, and Theron… wasn’t supposed to be a part of it.”

“ Supposed to is an interesting phrase, don’t you think?

” Melitta’s eyes glinted. “I wasn’t supposed to squander my chance, and I wasn’t supposed to find out I’m destined to love only once.

But I did. Calliste, what are you afraid of?

The king—I might not know his private side, but he can’t be too different from the man I’ve always admired.

If he’s earned your heart, he won’t break it. ”

“It will break on its own when I leave him.”

“If it’s going to break anyway, make it worthwhile.

” Melitta’s dimples showed. “Terrible advice, I know. But here’s what you’ll face if you don’t take the risk: a soul-eating emptiness filled with fantasies that will never come true.

I flirt and have fun with men because I know none of them will ever have the power Kassandros has over me,” she finished in an undertone, a muted fire flaring up in her eyes as she spoke his name.

Calliste sat back in her armchair, silent, allowing space for the confession Melitta might have held back for so long—years, maybe.

“I live in the bitter depths of fantasizing about a man who only needs to say a single word to me, and I would do anything he asked—but he’s unavailable.

Yet I still make desperate attempts to catch a glimpse of him just to fuel my fantasies.

Do you think you can end up worse, Calliste?

” Melitta sat upright, her face serious, her words blazing like arcs of fire.

Her anger was surprising; once hidden so well, it now flowed and seethed.

Calliste recognized the same brand and depth of anger. She had seen it before in Theron, in Hellenixia, when he tore off his mask for the first time, allowing her to see him as he truly was: broken and angry, just like Melitta was now. “No,” she replied.

Melitta exhaled, her posture softening as she gave a bright yet infinitely sad smile. “There.”