Page 177 of The Curse of the Goddess

She felt disgusted as the memories of Raan’s pleas washed over her. She could feel the warmth of his blood on her hands, his eyes turning glassy and lifeless. Everything was coming back to her, as well as the fear, the self-hate. Suddenly she heard him. He called Arwin a liar, and he kept recalling his daughter.

His daughter…

Maris.

Gods, what had she done?

Without a word, Valda slammed the door open and ignored the soldiers chasing after her as she headed back to her chamber. Behind her, Arwin commanded the soldiers to leave her be. Good. She didn’t have the patience to fight now. She needed to get to Maris.

The raging wind inside her mind deafened Valda. Her hands trembled as she grabbed hold of the doorknob. She tried to open it, but it seemed Maris had placed the chair back in its place, keeping any uninvited guests out.

“Maris, it’s me. Open the door.”

Silence.

Valda’s stomach turned yet again. She slammed her hand against the hardwood. “Maris! It’s me, Valda. Open the door.” Her mouth was dry. Had someone entered while she was away? Did someone take Maris away? Was she hurt?

Taking a step back, Valda pressed her palms together right above her chest, closed her eyes, and exhaled. A gust pulled the door off its hinges and into a mess of flying splinters.

Inside the room, Maris sat unmoving on the living quarter’s sofa. In one hand, a piece of paper dangled from her fingers. In her other hand, she gripped the handle of the unsheathed Heaven Sword, the blade resting on top of her thighs. Cerberus was hidden underneath the sofa.

Blue eyes moved from the paper up to lock with glassy honey eyes.

Valda swallowed hard, her throat bobbing as she pushed down the fear she had been holding onto. Her gaze trailed over the paper Maris was holding and a cold shiver overwhelmed her entire body. “Maris? Are you all right?”

Valda had never seen such hatred in someone’s eyes. Her chest was heavy with so many dreadful things, and she wanted to pull Maris in, hold her, and kiss her. But before she could say anything, Maris spoke.

“You killed my father. ”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement—a fact.

“Maris, I didn’t know he was—”

“You killed my father…” Maris snapped, standing from the sofa, the paper falling at her feet. Her hold on the sword tightened. “Why?”

Valda didn’t have an answer that would suffice. Saying that she was following orders, she was young, she didn’t know Raan was Maris’s father. They were all excuses. They wouldn’t ease the pain. It wouldn’t undo anything.

“You are the one responsible for my mother’s death! You!” Maris shook her head in disbelief. “You! You fucked my life!”

All the pent-up anger, unshed tears, everything that Maris held back was all because of her. Gods, it—was her all along. And it didn’t matter if she was queen or not, or if she had the power to create hurricanes or tornadoes, to hold the Heaven Sword over her head, or if the symbol of Ouranos burned steady on her forehead. None of that mattered now that she was the one who broke her lover. Valda couldn’t do anything but stand before Maris and accept everything the younger woman threw at her.

“Everything makes sense! I always wondered why the crown wasn’t helping the family of their fallen soldiers. It was because his name was sullied as a traitor!”

“Maris,” Valda whispered, her palms out reverently, “Maris, listen, please. You need to listen to me.”

Maris looked down, grabbed the report, and threw it at Valda. “You killed him because he was a traitor?” Maris scoffed in disbelief; her brow furrowed. “A traitor? My father?”

She wasn’t listening. She was letting out all her anger at once, and there was nothing Valda could do but stand there and take all of it until she tired out. Maris raised the Heaven Sword with both hands. Her grip trembled with the weapon’s weight, but her eyes didn’t waver.

“My father was a good man!”

“I have no doubt about it now that I know you.”

“And you! You…” An earth-shattering sob escaped Maris’s chest. “It was you all along.”

“I didn’t know…”

“You kill people without knowing their crimes, then? What kind of a ruler are you? You cold-hearted murderer!”

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