Page 132 of When Sisters Collide
Katell’s composure faltered. A ripple of disbelief passed through her—shock, tempered by something buried. Grief, perhaps.
They hadn’t spoken about their father in such a long time…
“Damocles fought alongside the Rebel Queen?” she asked at last, her voice subdued but no longer guarded.
Alena nodded again.
“I guess that’s why he had so many stories to tell.” Katell’s tone softened, and for a fleeting moment she looked less praefect and more sister.
Alena’s chest tightened with cautious hope. Surely that meant something. Surely now, knowing the truth about their mother, Katell would turn her back on the legions.
“And our father?” Katell asked.
Alena hesitated, the answer on the tip of her tongue—but the door creaked open before she could speak. A servant entered with a tray of food, the clatter of ceramic against wood jarring in the fragile quiet.
Katell’s attention shifted to the steaming plates, hunger evident in her gaze.
Alena lingered for a beat longer, then decided to leave. Pushing further tonight would be pointless. Katell had enough to reckon with already.
“It’s late,” she said quietly, rising. “I’ll leave you to rest.”
The grey wolf padded ahead, tail brushing the servant, who scrambled aside with a startled gasp.
Alena reached the door. Her hand was already on the handle when Katell spoke.
“Alena.”
She turned. Katell sat motionless, clutching a bowl, her gaze distant. “Leywani… She’s truly alive?”
Alena’s heart strained. “Yes.”
The next question came as a strangled whisper. “And her husband?”
“Dead.”
A shadow darkened Katell’s brow. “And she’s a slave… in this stone quarry?”
Alena swallowed hard. “Last I saw her, she was alive. But she needs our help.”
Her sister’s eyes searched hers. “What will you do?”
“I’m going to petition the queen,” Alena said. “Ask her to send a small group back to Dodona to free them.”
Katell frowned. “You think she’ll listen?”
“I don’t know,” Alena admitted. “But for their sake, I have to try.”
With a small nod, Katell returned to her meal.
Alena stole one last look at her, fragile hope lingering in her heart, before slipping quietly from the room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
LEUKOS
Leukos stood in one of the palace’s inner courtyards, surrounded by the tranquil beauty of night. The moon hung high, casting a soft glow over the silver leaves of olive trees swaying in the breeze. Jasmine perfumed the air, mingling with the gentle murmur of rustling branches.
Before him, a fountain’s waters trickled over the marble figure of a naked woman rising gracefully from the sea. Moonlight traced delicate shadows across the rippling surface, illuminating the statue’s polished pedestal.
