Page 54 of Crown of Serpents

“Maybe I do mind,” Andromeda folded her arms before her chest.

Medusa glanced between them, puzzled by Andromeda's sudden frostiness. Had he done something to upset her? A surge of protectiveness welled up within Medusa. If Kleos had harmed the princess in any way, she would tear him to shreds.

Utterly unbothered by Andromeda’s hostility, Kleos stepped closer, mirroring the princess’s stance. A hint of amusement danced in his eyes. “Well, that’s too bad because the captain has instructed me to see you to your quarters. A bath and fresh clothes are in order. Your dress is rather ... unsuitable for our esteemed guest.”

Andromeda's cheeks flushed crimson as she glanced down at the tattered gown she had worn since boarding the ship.

Medusa's arm instinctively circled Andromeda's shoulders, her gaze hardening as she faced Kleos. “Is he bothering you? That would be unwise … unless you want me to redecorate your face with my claws again.”

To emphasise her words, Medusa curled her taloned fingers.

Kleos's eyes narrowed. “I would never harm Andromeda. Though I guess the same cannot be said about you when I look at Andromeda’s arm.”

His words hit their mark. Medusa’s stomach plummeted. She glanced at the angry red lines left on Andromeda’s arm from the first night she had treated her wounds. They were fading, but the guilt remained.

Murderous intent simmered in Kleos's eyes, but before the tension could escalate further, Andromeda stepped between them. “Enough … both of you. No one is carving anyone up, not on my behalf.” She turned to Kleos, her voice softening, “Come on. Let's get this over with.”

Kleos beamed when Andromeda accepted his arm.

The princess turned to Medusa one last time, a reassuring smile painted on her lips, “Don’t worry. He’s annoying, but he means well. And don’t fret about my arm, the bruises have already faded.”

As they walked away, Medusa watched their retreating figures, a strange mix of emotions swirling within her.

…

The moon had risen in the starry sky when Medusa climbed the stairs to the quarter deck. The waves crashed against the hull as the ship approached Rhodos Island. Perseus stood at the stern, staring out at the dark sea, his brow furrowed.

“You wanted to speak to me?” Medusa asked.

When he turned, his expression was serious. “Yes. I wanted to know… have you thought about whether you’ll leave us at Rhodos?”

Medusa had thought of little else. Every waking hour, she had thought about the exiled princess and her son seeking refuge in Seriphos only to be pursued by another tyrant for her beauty. Her usual nightmares were now mixed with an unknown woman with Perseus’s hazel eyes imprisoned in a faraway palace. They paraded her around during the day, and she served the king in his chamber at night.

Medusa's eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what you expect me to do,” Medusa said, averting her gaze from the pain in his hazel eyes. “Even if I wanted to help your mother."

“Give me time,” Perseus pleaded. “I will figure something out … we could figure something out together."

“Your king wants the glory of slaying the monster of Lesbos. I understand you want to save your mother, but do you realise what you are asking from me?”

“I don’t —”

“Her freedom is not worth more than mine. Her life is not worth more than mine — just because you love her!” Medusa’s voice cracked.

A vision of Danae flashed before her eyes. She lay on her back in a luxurious bed, her legs spread, as a man with dark hair and a hairy back grunted while he used her body. When Medusa blinked, the woman was gone, and her own lifeless eyes stared back at her in the moonlit waters below.

Before Medusa could pull away, Perseus reached for herhand. Electricity skidded across her skin at the sensation of his featherlight touch. When she looked at him again, his expression was solemn. “Medusa. I’m not asking you to sacrifice yourself. If you stay with me, I promise no one will harm you. You are free … and no one will take that away from you. But please, help me save my mother. We —Ineed you.”

A tense silence stretched between them, broken only by the wind and the crashing waves. Perseus's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he pleaded, “Please, stay.”

The sound of his breathless voice cracked something inside her chest, the intensity of his hazel gaze making her skin prickle. What was happening?

“Okay,” she sighed, pulling her hand away.

A radiant smile broke across his face. “I might have a plan,” he said, a dimple appearing on his cheek. “On Rhodos, there is a temple of Athena in Kameiros … it’s a two-day trek from where we will land, and as the goddess of wisdom and strategy, she must know another way to satisfy Polydectes. We can seek her guidance together.”

Dread filled Medusa’s stomach. She would rather let Perseus put her head on a spike than ask Athena for counsel.

“What makes you think she would help us? I told you I have some … history with her.”

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