Page 26 of The Rose (The Godwicks 2)

“Yes, your lady is saved,” Perseus said. “And I saved her. And she is my bride. Go prepare a chamber for us. And then make yourself scarce. I will see no face but hers until morning.”

Into the great glittering throne room, the people poured cheering, amazed by the sight of a horse with wings, at the man who dared name himself a son of Zeus, at the sight of their princess, still living and breathing, and at the madness that, though they had planned a funeral, they were attending a wedding instead.

Her father uttered a few simple words that acted as a magic incantation. One moment, she was a daughter. The next moment, she’d become a wife.

It all happened so quickly that Lia didn’t realize it was over until she was being led upstairs to the chamber Perseus had ordered prepared for them. Up the wide stone stairway, servants with torches ahead and behind her. Outside the palace, in the streets and the hills, fires bloomed like anemones in spring as word spread that the princess had been saved, the kingdom had been saved.

But if she had been saved, why did her heart beat so hard? Hard as it had when she’d been chained to that rock? Was this fear she felt? Fear of her new husband? Or something else that felt like fear and made her heart beat wild as fear...but far sweeter?

The chamber the servants brought her to, she had seen before but never slept in. A chamber for honored guests with a bed large enough for three, swathed in white netting and heaped high with red pillows fringed with gold. The lamps had been lit and the room glowed warm and bright. She looked at the window, the wall, the tapestries, the bed and floor, even her own hands and feet, and thought,I should not be here.

Her maid brought her water, washed and perfumed her face and hands and feet and helped her into a simple gown of white.

The maid had just finished taking down her hair when the door opened and a male voice said simply, “Out.”

She glanced once into Lia’s eyes before bobbing a quick bow and departing without a word.

Alone with Perseus, Lia caught herself blushing. Surely any moment now this...what? Dream? Memory? Hallucination? Surely it would end.

Perseus stood before her, resplendent in his red wedding cloak, gazing at her with August’s eyes.

“How are you, my lady?”

“Alive,” she said, then smiled.

Then she cried.

She hadn’t meant to weep. Surely, she’d spent all her tears on that rock. And this was her wedding night. She’d been saved by a son of Zeus. He would be furious at her tears, expecting gratitude at the very least, worship more likely.

“Poor lady,” he said, and took her face in his hands. “Why do you weep?”

“I’m still afraid.”

“Of me?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Forgive me.”

He smiled at her, and she knew she’d never seen a more handsome man.

“Nothing to fear. And nothing to forgive.”

“You are gracious,” she said, swallowing tears.

“Here.” Perseus lifted a corner of his cloak to her face and used it to dry her cheeks. Her father had done the same a thousand times as a child. Then Perseus wrapped the cloak over her nose and said, “Now blow.”

Lia burst into startled laughter.

“Ah, that’s better!” He smiled like the sun she’d thought she’d never see again.

“My husband is...strange.”

“Forgive a little foolishness,” he said. “I would face Cetus again to make you laugh.”

“No need,” she said, and laughed. “See? All you must do is ask.”

“Is that so?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, not so broad as August’s but in ten years it would be. He furrowed his brow and gazed down at her, his face so serious she could hardly stop herself from laughing again.

“It is, my lord.”

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