Page 19 of The Stolen Kingdom

“No. She is nothing like Isen.”

The earnestness of Melvian’s words was heavy, and it made Maris uncomfortable. “Why?”

The air whistled through Melvian as she inhaled deeply. “I just don’t.”

“Fair enough. I will be the one to find out why,” Maris said, tucking the book close to her chest. “I will take the day to read if that’s fine with you.”

“You are the queen, yet Ido needa concrete answer.”

“About?”

Melvian waved her hand again and sat on the corner of her bed. “Let’s say this is a hypothetical situation.”

Maris narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Go on.”

“What would happen if we encountered a Vulcanian?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“We are starting a war with them, Maris. They are basically the enemy.”

“They haven’t hurt us yet.”

“Yet,” Melvian groaned when Maris’s annoyance brewed. “All right, all right. Let’s say you are already a worshiper, and a high official from the Sky Kingdom stumbles before you, beaten and… hurt.”

Maris’s shoulders tensed, and Melvian noticed right away. “And?”

“Let’s say they are Oberon Castle. They killed many and betrayed Valda, and he is asking you for help.” Melvian paused and stared at Maris. “Would you help him?”

Maris’s answer came without hesitation. “No.”

“Then I am afraid you cannot be an Asclepius worshiper. Wemustswear that we must help whoever asks to the best of our abilities, regardless of whether they are our enemies.”

“Do you think I will let those bastards get away with what they have done?”

“Asclepius doesn’t see sin or crimes. He sees pain, suffering, and sickness. That’s the real enemy.”

Maris bit her inner cheek and shook her head. “I am off to read. Have a good day, Melvian.” She grabbed the doorknob as Melvian called out.

“Maris, wait.” The young healer stood from the bed and grabbed Maris’s arm, pulling her back. “Think it through. We don’t have to start today. It has only been a day since we’ve arrived here…”

A fake smile spread across Maris’s features. “I will talk to you later, Melvian.” As soon as Melvian released her with a disheartened sigh, Maris headed back to House of Arago.

Helping someone who had caused so much pain and suffering was out of the question. Even now, the idea of ruling with peace as a beacon was crumbling. There was too much anger in her to forgive what had happened. Too many innocent lives had been lost to Arwin’s antics, and anyone who thought he was doing the right thing needed to be punished. If she were to become an Asclepius worshiper and one of those people asked for her help, she’d have no choice but to help them, and to Maris, that was treason.

As her mind stirred with thoughts of both peace and violence, she found herself before Poseidon’s trident.

Her birth father’s weapon.

On a different day, Maris would’ve taken her time to walk around the small altar. She would’ve bowed to the trident and whispered prayers in order to get a signal, a hint of what she was supposed to do.

Her parents had taught her about Poseidon, how he created the Sea Kingdom, how, over the centuries, he raised the Kingdom to the surface, and how the mighty king of the sea cared for the islands as if they were treasures. She had read about the bridges and how the god’s magic kept them afloat.

Swallowing hard, Maris scratched her arm, staring and taking in all the intricate details and designs of the weapon. She wondered if Poseidon was a jealous god, and what would he think if his chosen human vessel would rather pray to another god to save mortals.

Leaning her head back, Maris quietly studied the room. Last time she was there, she was with Valda.

Everywhere she looked, the other woman’s haunting presence was there.

---