Page 50 of Crown of Serpents

Medusa remained silent, but a flicker of satisfaction ignited within her. For the first time in ages, she felt seen, understood — even if it was by a self-righteous hero who grated on her every nerve.

“I mean it … I'm in your debt.”

A sliver of hope unfurled within Medusa. Perhaps her freedom wasn't lost after all. But it all hinged on this man's character, on whether he paid his debts.

“Does that mean you'll let me go?” Medusa pleaded.

Perseus hesitated, and Medusa knew what his answer would be before he spoke.

“I can’t,” regret flashed in his hazel eyes.

Medusa didn't care whether he felt guilty or not. In that moment, she hated that shred of her soul that she had been unable to destroy — even after years of butchering and killing. Medusa cursed the tiny voice in her head that compelled her to care, demanded compassion, and told her that her violence was revenge and not justice. She much preferred the hissing of her snakes craving blood.

She averted her face from Perseus and stared toward the wall. This conversation was over, and she would pay him no further heed. He silently retreated and left her alone to her raging thoughts.

How could she have believed he was any different from other mortals?

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Perseus stepped onto the moonlit deck, a gnawing unease settling in his gut. For the first time, he had seen an ember of hope in Medusa’s eyes, only for him to crush it. He slumped against the wooden door, groaning. What was he supposed to do?

Kleos materialised beside him, a smirk twisting his lips. “Looks like your conversation went well. She does always get the better of you, doesn’t she?”

Perseus turned, a scowl darkening his features. “I’m not in the mood for you pestering me right now.” He walked toward the ladder that led below deck, but Kleos's words halted him.

“Right, because you need to agonise over what to do with your lovely prisoner.”

Perseus bristled. “Do you have a suggestion, then?”

“I do.”

They had reached the foot of the stairs, and Kleos slid into one of the wooden seats, gesturingPerseus to join him.

“Let’s hear it then — remind me of all the monstrous things she has done, my debt to Polydectes, and why I must go through with murdering her.”

“Actually, I was going to argue the opposite,” Kleos said, his usual mischievous glint replaced by a sombre expression. “After everything she’s done, it would not be right to kill her. Even if you want to save your mother.”

Perseus blinked at his friend, dumbfounded. “I thought you despised her?”

“I do, and one day I’ll repay her for the marks she left on my face … one way or another, but that doesn’t change the fact that she just saved your life.”

“She savedourlives,” Perseus corrected him.

“No,” Kleos countered. “She savedyou, andyoualone. She wouldn't have cared if we'd died, and who could blame her?”

Perseus wanted to object, but he knew it was true. Of course, Medusa had also stayed behind to ensure Andromeda’s safety, but that somehow felt different. She had not jumped between the princess and Cetus’s sharp-toothed maw, but she had shieldedhisunconscious body with hers.

Guilt and regret had gnawed at him since leaving the Joppan shore. Medusa was no monster. She was a brave and ruthless woman, powerful, terrifyingly lethal, and with a dark and twisted past — but she was no monster. What did it make him for taking such a wonderful person hostage?

Kleos nudged him. The devious grin had returned. “At least Medusa roaming around will make life on this cramped little ship much more interesting. I, for one, cannot wait to witness her tongue-lash you whenever you piss her off.”

A weak smile spread across Perseus’s lips. He knew that this was his friend’s attempt at cheering him up, and yet —

“And what about my mother?”

That was the one problem he could not solve. He had almost decided he would set Medusa free and even beg for her forgiveness for the suffering he had inflicted. Yet, none of that would help Danae escape the miserable fate that awaited her if he didn’t return to Seriphos with Medusa’s head by the autumn equinox.

“I’ll find another way to rescue Danae.”

---