Page 38 of Crown of Serpents

Across the table, the princess whispered, “How terrible.”

“It was then that I heard of a young hero, one sent by the gods to finally slay the beast that killed my brother. So, I pleaded with our headpriest to grant me leave so I might accompany him on his mission and avenge my brother’s death.”

Perseus resisted the urge to reach for her hand. It was not like her story was remotely true, yet he still felt the overwhelming need to comfort her. What was wrong with him?

Instead, he confirmed her lie, “It’s true, her prophecies led usto Medusa, and we were able to capture her.”

The princess shifted uncomfortably, her gaze fixated on the lines of her palms.

King Cepheus raised his goblet. “A stirring tale! To the young hero and his courageous companions!”

…

The atmosphere mellowed as the feast progressed. Kleos and other guests raised their gilded goblets in frequent toasts, but Perseus remained vigilant, his attention fixed on the woman beside him. Medusa's eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail. What was she scheming?

Luckily, Kleos now carried most of the conversation, entertaining their hosts with outlandish tales of their journey that vastly exaggerated their bravery. Perseus caught him stealing glances and flexing his muscles in the princess's direction, but she seemed uninterested, her mesmerising amber eyes only leaving her untouched plate to glare at her mother whenever the queen's flattery toward Perseus grew too effusive. Cassiopeia gushed over his looks, his bravery, his strength. If only she knew the truth of their encounter with the gorgon. Perseus couldn't fathom why the queen was so intent on impressing a simple fisherman from Seriphos — even though he currently posed as a foreign dignitary.

Then, musicians entered the great hall, their lyres and harps filling the air with a lively melody. Courtesans rose from the table, their graceful movements a whirlwind on the dance floor.

Queen Cassiopeia leaned closer. “Do you dance, Perseus?”

Beside her, the princess shrank in her seat. Was the queen trying to set up her daughter withhim? Whyever, would she do that?

He offered the princess a sympathetic smile before shrugging. “I'm afraid I'm more adept with a sword than with dance steps. However, I would like to discuss my mission at your convenience, Your Majesties.” Perhaps now would be a good time to bring up the wrecked ship anchored in their harbour.

King Cepheus dismissed him with a wave. “After the feast,boy. First, let’s enjoy the festivities.”

Perseus suppressed a sigh. The longer they spent at this palace, the more time Medusa had to plan her escape — or worse. He glanced at her, only to find the captain of the guard, Heron, approaching their table, his eyes fixated on Medusa. Perseus's jaw tightened.

“Lady Irene,” Heron began, his voice laced with a poorly veiled attempt at charm, “I wish to apologise for our earlier encounter. I was only trying to fulfil my duties — perhaps a little too eager.”

Medusa remained silent, her glare sharp enough to make Heron flinch — even with her face concealed in the shadow of her veil. For a heartbeat, it was as if she had dropped the mask of the pious priestess, revealing the predator slumbering beneath.

Heron continued, although there was a quiver in his voice now. “I was wondering if you would accompany me to the dance floor — if your duties to Apollo allow you, that is.” As he finished the sentence, his swagger returned, a confident grin spreading across his face.

Perseus balled his fists.Hewould not allow this man to touch Medusa inappropriately, priestess or not.

Medusa’s lips parted into a smile, though the predatory gleam never left her eyes. “I would be delighted to,” she purred.

Perseus watched in disbelief as Medusa rose gracefully and accepted Heron’s extended arm, who was now blatantly ogling her.

Kleos's elbow jabbed his ribs. “Perseus? You've gone pale.”

What was she doing? She was going to blow their cover. He knew little about Apollo’s maidens, but he was certain that consorting with lustful guards wasnotpart of their vows.

Perseus narrowed his eyes as Heron led Medusa onto the dance floor. Just as they reached the whirling couples, Medusa stumbled. Perseus gripped the table, his knuckles white, as Heron caught her, his hand lingering on her back. Even from afar, he could see Medusa's barely contained fury.

Perseus didn’t hear the conversations around him as the musicians started playing a new song, and Medusa and Heron began circling one another. She knew every step, moving herarms in long, elegant lines as she spun around herself. It was a quick dance that required little physical touch from dance partners. Yet, Perseus felt his chest tighten as he watched Medusa’s every step, every leap, and every turn.

Finally, the tune was over, and the music shifted to a slower, more intimate tune. Medusa lowered herself into a graceful bow, preparing to retreat to the table, but Heron caught her hand, a seductive smile on his lips, as he beckoned her for another dance. He pulled her close, possessively gripping her waist.

Medusa stiffened in his arms, and Perseus shot to his feet. Enough was enough. He marched toward the dance floor in long strides. She had been a gracious guest and entertained the guard with a dance. He would not watch as the sentinel hands wandered — not when not when she was underhisprotection.

Suddenly, Heron’s hand dropped lower, and she struck. In one moment, the guard was grinning, whispering something in the gorgon’s ear, and the next, he was whimpering, his arms twisted behind his back.

Perseus rushed forward, arriving just in time to hear the sickening crack of Heron’s finger breaking. Perseus could not help but grin at the man’s muffled cry.

Then, his eyes met Medusa’s, her usually ocean-green irises burning bright with a green flame. His mouth dropped. She was breathtaking in her rage.

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