Page 61 of Crown of Serpents

“If mychiselledbody offends your modesty so much, I suggest you simply don't watch me change ... I, however, don't intend to sleep in dirty clothes, and I suggest you remove your muddy dress as well,” Perseus said before proceeding to untie his sandals.

Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she averted her gaze, unfastening her peplos. She faced the wall to prevent herself from looking over the shoulder for another glance at Perseus’s glistening muscles. It cost her more willpower to suppress her curiosity than she would like to admit.

When she finally slid into bed, Perseus’s clothes were neatly folded on the wooden chair next to the window, and he lay wrapped in a thick woollen blanket on the uneven floor. Medusa was almost disappointed that he had already covered himself in cloth again. What was wrong with her?

Just before her eyes fluttered shut, Perseus whispered from the floor, “You know? I could get used to losing arguments against you … even if it means I must sleep on the cold floor with splinters in my back.”

A small smile bloomed on Medusa’s lips as she finally drifted asleep.

…

Medusa’s steps echoed on the marble floor. It had been years since she had set foot inside the temple — since she had been cast out. An icy wind pulled on her simple gown as she hesitantly approached the altar at the far end. Her path was flanked by tall stone pillars, casting long shadows in the silver light of the crescent moon. No torches illuminated the statue of the goddess of wisdom and warcraft in the usual golden glow.

She knelt before the towering figure of Athena, whose helmet and spear shimmered in the moonlight. The owl on Athena’s shoulder assessed Medusa’s every breath with piercing eyes.

Medusa inhaled deeply before she said, her voice shaky, “Oh, mighty Athena, I’ve come to seek your wisdom. I –”

Before Medusa could finish her sentence, a searing light flashed before her eyes. When she dared peek toward the goddess’s face, Athena returned her gaze with an unforgiving stare, her eyes hard as steel.

Her otherworldly voice boomed through the temple, shaking the floor beneath Medusa’s knees. “YOU DARE SET FOOT IN MY TEMPLE TO SEEK MY COUNCIL AFTER WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!?”

“I– I …”

“HAVE I NOT TAKEN YOU IN WHEN YOU WERE SEEKING REFUGE? HAVE I NOT PROTECTED YOU, FED YOU, TAUGHT YOU? ONLY FOR YOU TO WHORE IT ALL AWAY AT THE FIRST OPPORTUNITY TO ANOTHER GOD?”

As footsteps approached, a shimmer of light flickered at the end of the hallway.

“I – I didn’t mean to …”

Hot tears were streaming down Medusa’s cheeks. She had flung her arms around herself, rocking back and forth on her knees.

“I HAVE GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING. YOU WERE MY CHOSEN PRIESTESS — NOW YOU ARE NOTHING. JUST ADIRTY LITTLE WHORE.”

When Medusa glanced up again, she could make out the silhouettes of her fellow priestesses and priests through a mist of tears. A groan that sounded more like a wounded animal escaped her throat. She stretched a trembling hand toward Cassandra, Calliope, and Demetrius. However, the faces of the only friends she had ever known remained cold and unmoving — as if they did not even recognise her.

Then, the first stone whizzed through the air. Before Medusa could react, it struck her shoulder. She whimpered. Another stone pummelled her back, legs, and head. Medusa tried to shield herself as the priestesses and priests hurled stone after another. Their chants grew louder, echoing through the marble hall.

Whore. Whore. Whore.

With trembling lips, Medusa made one last attempt to beg her friends for forgiveness. Cassandra. Calliope. Demetrius. But her mouth could only form a broken whisper, a sibilant hiss that sounded more serpent than supplicant.

Whore. Whore. Whore.

…

“Medusa!”

Rough hands shook her shoulders, but she couldn’t move.

“Medusa,” the man breathed her name again.

She barely heard him over the voices echoing in her head.

Whore. Whore. Whore.

Medusa kept her eyes squeezed shut out of fear to see their hateful faces again. Cassandra. Calliope. Demetrius, who had found her cowering at the feet of their goddess. He had been her first victim. A quiet sob escaped her throat.

“It was just a bad dream,” Perseus murmured, gently stroking her tear-streaked cheek. “Just a dream.”

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