Page 150 of The Curse of the Goddess

Maris nodded, as she sniffed again. “I love you so much, Valda.” Snuggling closer, Maris pressed her ear to Valda’s chest, squeezing her flank before speaking again. “Valda?”

“Yes, Seashell?”

“What does the Oracle look like?”

Valda scoffed. “Hideous. They are not a man nor woman. They have wraps all over their body because they wander the Umbriel desert. The sun has burned their skin to a crisp. They face is dry and dark with blemishes and, well, they are hideous.”

“What did you feel when they said you were going to meet me in your birthday?”

“Relief,” Valda whispered, pressing her lips to Maris’s forehead. “Sleep. Tomorrow will be an exhausting day.”

It wasn’t long until Maris’s soft snores creeped into the quiet room. Valda cradled her, as if protecting her from what was yet to come. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was the right thing to do, for the Sealians to start to heal with their real ruler.

***

The warmth of the sun shining through the window fell upon Valda’s back, but it was the burning itch inside of her eyes that stirred her. She didn’t think much of it; it happened from time to time. The queen pressed her eyelids with the meaty side of her palms as she sat on the bed before gracing Maris’s figure, still sleeping next to her.

Her steady breathing was almost a lullaby, coaxing her to come back to bed and sleep the morning away, but Valda needed to relieve herself. She stood from the bed with her eyes closed and slowly walked to the washroom.

Inside, she moved her hands until she found a wash bin. She cupped her hands to gather some icy water and then splashed her face. Valda gasped. She wasn’t expecting it to be so cold.

Her eyes flew open, and she stared down at the red dots in her hands…

Wait.

She strained her eyes, watching the water dilute the red pigment and sluice down her wrist, forearm, to her elbow. Valda watchedher muscles move underneath tan skin, the veins in the back of her scarred, rough hand. Her eyes jumped to the other hand, and she held her breath. She studied the small, childhood scar on the back of her left hand, the white lines over her knuckles.

Her gaze moved to her chest, there was no paint there, but her flat stomach was smudged blue all over. She noticed her dark brown mound and then her bare thighs…

She saw everything…

Valda lifted her gaze to the small hanging mirror above the wash bin. The mirror was big enough to reflect her face. Its fractured side made her think it had once been bigger and noticed the nail from which the mirror hung. She could see everything—the smallest details.

Valda moved before the mirror… Honey-colored eyes stared back at her with the same incredulous spark. Honey-colored eyes.

“There is no way.”Valda grabbed the mirror, ignoring its damaged sides.

Valda swallowed hard, her lips parting in her reflection, her neck moving as she tried to talk. There were smears of paint on her shoulders, exactly where Maris’s hands had been last night as they made love.

Her heart missed a beat, squeezing inside her chest.

“Maris.”

As the fog of disbelief cleared out, the sudden realization that the woman she had wanted to see for so long was steps away, sleeping soundly in the bedroom, loosened Valda’s grip on the mirror. She shuddered and placed it inside the wash bin, and turned towards the door, slipping in the process and falling in her desperation.

She stood up quickly, slipping twice more without losing her footing. Pausing at the opening that divided the washroom and the bedroom, her hands held to the door frame with white knuckles.

She exhaled as her still burning eyes fell on Maris’s sleeping form. Her chest was about to burst with all the emotions she had been holding since the first day she heard Maris’s voice.

Valda’s knees buckled, and she fell again hard on the wooden floor as if about to worship the holiest of goddesses. Finally, she found her words, only to let them out in a whisper.

“Holy Ouranos.”

23

Valda could see it all.

Maris was lying on her back, the paint-stained, white bed sheet tangled around her legs, covering her hips and waist. Her chest, large and round, topped with taut, dark nipples. A silver necklace with two wedding bands rested between her breasts. Maris’s skin was sun-kissed with thin, darker tanned lines along her shoulders and neckline, which were also beautifully splattered with the same paint that stained the sheets. Her arms were soft yet firm, strong enough to carry Valda when she needed the extra help at the beginning. Her stomach, although it was half-covered, was soft with delicate rolls. Her hips were wide, as supple as her thick and firm thighs. A mixture of red, yellow, and blue dots coalesced harmoniously, brushed with her handprint on Maris’s body. Valda had to swallow hard and clench her hands into fists to prevent herself from touching and burying her face between her thighs.

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