Page 37 of Crown of Serpents

“Enough, Heron!” King Cepheus’s voice boomed through the hall. “Perseus and this woman are our esteemed guests. Show them the respect they deserve.”

Perseus sketched a low bow. “Thank you for your hospitality, Your Majesties. I am Perseus, son of Danae, stranded at the shores of Joppa while on a mission for Polydectes, king of Seriphos.” Polydectes’s name tasted foul in his mouth, but he schooled his face into neutrality as faced the rulers.

He lifted his gaze to the royals once more, analysing their hosts for the first time. King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia were still attractive despite the grey streaks in their dark hair. The flowy silk robes did little to conceal the king’s powerfulfigure, muscles honed by years of swordplay. His amber eyes crinkled in a welcoming smile, yet the sharp discernment within them made Perseus’s skin prickle. Yet, it was the queen’s regal poise that made him want to kneel at their feet. Despite the dark shadows beneath her eyes and her hollowed-out cheeks, Perseus could see the remnants of a captivating beauty. Her rich purple robe was a vibrant contrast against her ebony skin, and her high cheekbones and full lips made her look almost ethereal. On the market, Perseus had heard that Cassiopeia had originally been an Aethiopian princess. When Cepheus had travelled to Aethiopia for trade negotiations, it had taken him all but one glance to fall in love with her. She had been the queen of Joppa for over twenty years now, and judging by their interlaced fingers, he still appeared just as smitten with his wife.

Then, Perseus’s gaze flicked to the smaller throne. The princess seated there was a vision — a younger, radiant echo of her mother, her dark skin shimmering in the torchlight, her onyx curls cascading around her shoulders. Yet, she had the same intelligent eyes as her father. They shone like polished bronze as she seized him up as if she might discern his character with a single glance. She outshone everyone in the room — save for the emerald-haired woman standing beside him.

Queen Cassiopeia leaned forward, addressing Perseus, “We have heard of your mission, young hero. The king of Seriphos sent you to slay the Gorgon Medusa, who has terror of the Lesbos Strait. But what brings you to Joppa? Have you fulfilled your quest? Are you in search of another?”

Perseus shifted uncomfortably. He needed to be careful how he spun lies with truth to make his story believable. “It is a long story, Your Majesty, one I will gladly share this evening. For now, know that we were caught in a violent summer storm after defeating the gorgon, which blew us to Joppa’s shore.”

Cassiopeia’s eyes widened at that. “Truly? It’s as if the fates have —”

“You must excuse my wife’s enthusiasm,” the king cut in, shooting a warning glance at his side. “We are eager to hear your tale, but first, please join us for the feast.”

Undeterred, Cassiopeia leaned in again, curiosity sparkling inher obsidian eyes. “So, you have indeed vanquished the beast? Medusa is dead?”

Perseus dared a glance at thepriestessbeside him. She stood frozen, her back stiff, at the mention of her supposed demise.

“I defeated the gorgon in her lair, north of the fishing village called Cisthene.”

That was true enough. He had won the fight against Medusa, even though it had been more of an ambush than a battle.

The queen clasped her hands together. “Oh, what a feat! Such an accomplishment at your young age ... and such a handsome young man, too.”

The king sighed, and a flicker of annoyance crossed the princess's face at her mother's effusive praise.

“Please join us at the table of honour,” Cepheus said in a tired tone. “That way, you’ll be able to eat at least while my lovely wife peppers you with questions.”

Perseus suppressed a sigh. He had not expected such interest in him by the royals. It made keeping Medusa under control infinitely more complicated. Still, he couldn’t refuse the king’s invitation.

He placed a careful hand on Medusa’s back as he guided her toward the table. She bristled at his touch, but Perseus leaned in, whispering into her ear, “Just so you know, I’ve still got a dagger in my boot. One wrong move ...”

Their eyes met through the veil. “Whatever do you mean,young hero?” she purred, her voice a silken trap. “The gorgon is dead, slain by your hand. I'm but a humble priestess. What mightIpossibly do to warrant such a threat?”

Perseus groaned. He should not have brought her with him.

They reached the banquet table, the Joppan royals watching with keen interest.

Medusa's smile was saccharine. “Just focus on your tale, hero,” she murmured, “don't trip over the details of my supposed demise.”

She glided to a seat at the table filled with freshly baked bread, figs, cheeses, and heaps of roasted meats. From the corner of his eyes, Perseus noticed Kleos, who had been untypically quiet since they entered the throne hall, shaking his head.

“So, tell us, young hero,” the queen continued her inquiry, “whom have you brought to accompany you?” Her gaze fixed on Medusa, curiosity alight in her eyes. “Is this lovely woman your wife?”

Kleos choked on his mutton, and Perseus could have sworn the princess rolled her eyes.

“This is Kleos, my trusted friend,” Perseus replied, thumping Kleos on the back as he coughed and sputtered. “And this is...”

“Irene,” Medusa interjected, a serene smile gracing her features, “a priestess of Apollo, blessed with the gift of foresight. I serve as Perseus's oracle, guiding him on his journey.”

It should not have surprised Perseus that she was an excellent liar. How often had she lured men into their deaths with that sweet smile? He could not blame the poor souls for falling for it.

Queen Cassiopeia looked overly satisfied at her response. Still, her curiosity was not yet sated. “And how did you come to this path, young priestess? It's not common for one so young to journey on a ship filled with ... rough men.”

Medusa's voice was soft, tinged with sorrow, “It was my fate, Your Majesty. I encountered Perseus soon after Medusa had raided a ship carrying my brother. He and his crewmates washed ashore near my temple. We were sent out to aid survivors … and that was where I found him.” Her voice cracked. “I barely recognised my brother. The gorgon had… mutilated him, torn him apart —”

Medusa broke off as if suppressing a sob. She was a master of deception. A shudder went through her as if she was genuinely reliving the trauma. Her hand wandered to her abdomen, where Perseus knew a hidden wound festered.

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