Page 53 of Crown of Serpents

But her expression hardened, extinguishing the flicker of hope within him. “I understand why you did what you did,” she said, her voice regaining its usual sharpness, “but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. It doesn’t mean I forgive you — at least not yet.”

His heart sank, but he understood. “You don’t have to. I just hope you will someday.”

He stood, preparing to leave.

As he reached the door, Medusa asked, her voice soft, “What will you do now? To save Danae from Polydectes?”

Perseus hesitated, a wave of despair washing over him. “I don’t know.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Andromeda slipped into the cabin at the usual hour. Medusa’s smile froze as she realised the girl was not carrying supper plates. She had gotten used to them sharing dinner — sometimes with Andromeda explaining the healing properties of various herbs but more often in silence. There weren’t many topics they could speak about. A shadow fell over Andromeda’s face every time she mentioned her kingdom or her family, and Medusa didn’t feel like delving into her past either. Nevertheless, she had found Andromeda’s quiet presence comforting and looked forward to their shared dinners each day.

“I thought we might eat supper on deck today. The sunset is marvellous,” Andromeda chirped, her golden eyes sparkling.

Medusa glared at her. They had had this conversation before. Medusa wasn’t keen on facing the crew again, and she had been avoiding Perseus. He had visited her thrice since sharing that horrific story about his mother, and last night she had finally forgiven him — if only to shut him up. Perseus had told her thatthey would reach Rhodos Island shortly and asked if she wished to leave there or continue travelling with him further. Medusa knew what lingered in that question. It was a plea for help. He needed her help to rescue his mother from Polydectes’s grasp. She had not given him a response yet, nor had she made up her mind, so she did not want to see him tonight.

Andromeda sat down on the edge of the bed, her voice gentle yet firm. “You need to start moving if you wish to regain your strength. The fresh air will do you good.”

Medusa could see the determination in Andromeda's eyes. The princess wouldn’t back down this time.

“Fine,” Medusa conceded, a hint of defiance in her voice. “Help me up then. But if any of those brutes try anything... I won't hold back.”

Andromeda’s face lit up with excitement as she hurried to help Medusa from the sleeping cot.

“I’m not sure if brawling with the soldiers is wise. You’re still in pretty bad shape,” Andromeda scolded her while tying up Medusa’s curls and helping her into a clean linen chiton. Still, a mischievous grin danced across her face, undermining the authoritative tone she only used when addressing Medusa as her patient.

Medusa could not stop herself from sketching a mocking bow. “If you say so … Your Highness.”

For a second, sorrow flickered across Andromeda’s face before she chuckled and looped her arm around Medusa’s, gently supporting her weight.

The moment they stepped into the sunlight, all eyes turned toward them. Medusa’s body tensed, yet she managed to suppress the urge to snarl at them. None of the men moved, their wary gazes following Medusa as Andromeda guided her across the deck.

Andromeda squeezed her hand in reassurance. “No one is going to hurt you. Perseus was very clear that if any of them so much as touched you, he’d … well … dispose of them himself.”

Still, when she glanced toward the bulwark and spotted Linus’s bulky frame, Medusa’s blood ran cold. Something about his sneer told her that none of Perseus’s threats would deter him.If he had the chance, he would attempt to drown her again — or worse. Only he wouldn’t get the chance. A slow, chilling smile spread across Medusa’s face, baring her elongated canines. Snakes slowly uncoiled from her hair, hissing a deadly promise. Linus flinched, and Medusa turned back toward Andromeda with a satisfied smirk.

Andromeda, unfazed by the venomous serpents mere inches from her, sighed, “Was that really necessary?”

Medusa shrugged, settling onto a rail opposite Linus, her veil fluttering in the evening breeze. An elderly sailor approached with warm brown eyes, carrying two clay bowls of bread and grilled fish. His movements were slow and cautious, and there was a slight limp to his step, but he didn’t cower in fear.

“Dinner, miladies.“

Medusa accepted hers silently, but Andromeda beamed, “It looks delicious, Orestes. Thank you.”

A crooked smile spread over the sailor’s wrinkled face, and he retreated, casting one last curious glance at Medusa.

Under the golden glow of the evening sun, Andromeda became unusually chatty.

She spoke of herbs she’d cultivated in secret at the temple of Astarte and of the elder priestess Seraphine, who had taught her everything she knew. When the princess described how at peace she had felt during those stolen morning hours in the lush temple gardens, Medusa almost told her about her former sanctuary, the temple of Athena on Aegina.Almost. Instead, she listened as Andromeda recounted her daring escapes from the palace guards, the mud under her fingernails, the maid who'd accidentally cursed her. Medusa laughed, a genuine laugh, a sound she hadn't made in years. The warmth of the sun and the soothing cadence of Andromeda's voice had rekindled something within her, a spark she thought long extinguished.

“Good evening, ladies,” a voice boomed behind Medusa.

Andromeda rolled her eyes. “Evening.”

Medusa whirled to see Kleos towering over them, a stupid grin on his face.

“Perseus would like to speak to you on the quarter-deck, and I would like to escort you back to your cabin, PrincessAndromeda … if you don’t mind,” he blushed slightly when he addressed her.

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