Chapter Thirty-Five
"Styxx ... it will be fine. Trust me. You've spent too many birthdays with people who don't love you. The baby and I want to be here for this one."
Closing his eyes, Styxx wanted to curse her love for him. But how could he? It was too rare a commodity for him to spurn it. "Fine, but promise me that we will leave as soon as it's done. We will go to Egypt and stay there where your family can protect you until after the baby's born."
"If that is what you want then I'm agreeable. But it's not necessary."
"For my sanity, it is."
"All right. For the sake of your sanity." She kissed his cheek again.
He left her to dress and only then did Bethany feel a twinge of his fear.
But she dismissed it. After his birthday, she intended to drink Ma'at's serum and become fully human. In four days, they would be headed to Egypt and no one would ever be able to harm them again.
She would put his fears to rest and all would be right in the world.
June 22, 9527 BC
Styxx raked his hands through his hair as the voices of a thousand people screamed in his head. Because of the number of people his father had invited, he'd been in pain all day. So much so that his nose had poured blood throughout the morning. Honestly, he couldn't stand it.
The only person he wanted to see wasn't here yet, and a part of him hoped that Bethany would heed his fear and not show up at all.
His only saving grace was the fact that neither Acheron nor Ryssa had come near him. Rather they were sequestered in her rooms, no doubt wishing for his brutal demise.
Perhaps he should assign more tasters for his food tonight....
Smoothing his hair down, he returned his hated golden-leaf crown to his head.
Even worse than the feeling of dread that refused to go away was the grief he had over the absence of Galen. This was the first time in over a decade that he hadn't spent at least part of his birthday with the old man.
"You want an award for being born? What's wrong with you, boy? The world don't give out awards for births." For five years, that had been Galen's rant.
Tears choked him as he remembered the next anniversary.
His father had been a complete ass as Styxx had been forced to listen to court sessions all morning while trying to hide a vicious nosebleed. As for his "gift" from his father, it'd been a "personal" donation to the city for a monument to honor the king.
By the time Styxx had gone to practice, with his mother's and Ryssa's insults ringing in his ears, he'd been completely deflated and morose.
Until he'd gone in to change his clothes. Sitting on the shelf had been a pair of black and bronze vambraces that matched his armor.
Awed by the sight, he'd assumed they were put there by mistake.
"They don't bite, boy. Try them on. See if they fit."
Frowning, he'd turned to see Galen standing in the doorway with a wide grin on his face. "Who do they belong to?"
Galen had laughed. "You, Highness. They're my gift to you. Happy birthday, gios. I hope they always protect you in battle."
His eyes tearing from the memory, Styxx went to his chest and pulled them out. He wasn't sure who'd been prouder of them. Galen for the giving or him for the receiving. And they had served him well in battle.
"I miss you, Galen," he breathed, wishing he could see his mentor one more time.
But then he had a lot of regrets.
Sighing, he wrapped the vambraces back in their protective oiled cloth and tucked them in beside the wooden horse that Acheron wanted nothing to do with. He would give it to his own son to play with one day.
"Happy birthday, little brother," he whispered, knowing Acheron's perfect gift would be Styxx's head on a platter.
Suddenly, he heard a loud fanfare outside.
His rapid heartbeat pounded more pain through his head as he went to the windows to see who was arriving.
Bethany.
"I could strangle you for not listening to me." But the rest of him didn't agree with his brain. In spite of his common sense, he was thrilled she'd come.
He left his room to greet her and with every step, he prayed that she was right. That it was just his stupidity that made him dread this day so much.
June 23, 9527 BC
Bethany was laughing in bed with Styxx when she heard an ear-splitting scream that echoed through the ether, which only the gods and a few others could hear ... The horrified agony of utmost heartache. She knew the source of the sound in an instant.
Apollymi.
Had they finally found her son and killed him? That was the kind of grief that would explain it. Surely nothing else could warrant so much pain.
Styxx went rigid around her as if he'd heard it, too, but as a mortal, he shouldn't have any way to access those voices. Though he continued to be hard inside her, he was completely still in her arms.
"Are you all right?" she asked him.
He cursed under his breath. "Nosebleed."
It was the first time he'd had one while making love to her. He pulled back and left her to tend it.
She sat up and pulled the sheets to cover her.
After a few seconds, he returned to bed and sat down by her side, holding a cloth to his nose.
"Sorry, love. Really bad timing."
She sat up to brush her hand through his hair, which was finally long enough to have curls again. "I'm more worried about you. Have you any idea what caused it?"
Styxx fell quiet as he continued to hear the voice of a goddess in his head. It was one he'd heard many times while growing up. He didn't know her name, but when he'd been a small child, her voice had soothed him like a mother's lullaby.
Today, she was shrieking and furious, and he had no idea why. Worse, she was cursing and threatening him as if he'd done something to her.
I will find you and rip out your heart, you Greek whoreson! I'm coming for you and everything you hold dear. There is no place you can hide that I won't discover, and when I do, you will wish to your Greek gods that you had died at birth as you should have! How dare you not protect my son! I will bathe in your putrid entrails!
He had no idea what he'd done to deserve her hatred. Maybe it's not directed at you....
But it felt personal.
More than that, it felt like the same mood his mother had been in right before she'd stabbed him. And as Bethany brushed the hair back from his eyes, an image of Galen dying in his arms hit him like a vicious blow. Only this time, it was Bethany he saw dying.
"I need you to leave."
She froze instantly. "Excuse me?"
"Not permanently, akribos. You promised you'd go right after my banquet. Yet you're still here. I need you to get to Egypt as fast as you can so that your father and family can keep you safe for me."
"I don't want to leave you."
"I'll be right behind you. I'll probably catch up before you make it there."
Bethany hesitated. She started to tell him that she was a goddess and that he had no need to fear for her, but since she was giving it up in a few days to be with him, there was no need to mention it and risk his anger and condemnation. "I'm sure I'll be there first."
"Good. Now, please ... let's get you packed and out of here."
"Your nose is still bleeding. I can smell it."
"I've fought many battles with it bleeding worse than this. It's nothing. I'll be fine."
She curled up beside him with her belly resting against his ribs. Closing his eyes, Styxx savored the warmth of her there while his son kicked them both. She took his hand into hers and led it to her lips so that she could nibble his knuckles.
"You are the most important thing in my world, Styxx of Didymos, proud Ariclean prince. In my heart, I am your wife, and I need no contract or witness to validate it."
She placed his hand to her heart so that he could feel the soothing, strong beat of it. "In all my life, there has never been another man who has made me feel what I feel whenever I think of you. Your pleasure is my pleasure and your agony is a thousand times worse for me to bear than any I have ever felt on my own, because you are so much more important to me than I am. Every time you leave, I cannot breathe again until I know you're safe and back in my arms." She kissed his hand. "Against my wishes, I will go to please you, but know that I will live in absolute misery until I'm with you again." She bit his knuckle. "Don't make me wait, my love."
Realizing that she had started her Egyptian wedding vows by stating her devotion to him, and as such was asking him to marry her before she left, he pulled the cloth from his nose then brought her hand to his lips so that he could kiss her palm. "And you, sweet Bethany of Egypt, Princess of Thebes, are my kunosoura-"
"Your what?" She frowned. "Sorry, love. Not a native speaker and Greek is a very difficult language."