Page 80 of When the Wicked Sing
Helios would go after the Siren Witch. A part of her heart lurched at the thought of anyone harming one of her own, especially someone she cared about.
“And what if I try to stop him?”
The king gave her a tight-lipped smile. “I’m assuming Astra’s letter also told you that I am your father.” The expression on her face must have confirmed it. “Then you should know I will never allow harm to come to you.” His brows scrunched, and he gave her a sad smile she hoped wasn’t supposed to be reassuring. “Well, I should say, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
“Did you—” Mariana hesitated and bit her lip before sighing, “Did you know about me?”
He shook his head and looked away. “No, though I wish I had.”
“Why? Would it have changed anything?”
Stavros stared at the floor for a moment. “I’d like to think so.” He continued to study the marble beneath their feet until he finally met her eyes. “I come here when I miss her.”
Mariana knew instantly who he meant byher.
“That’s why you haven’t torn this place apart. You still love her.”
The king glanced around the room and gave her a solemn nod. “This was my love letter to her. I envisioned our lives here. She and I. Our children. I’d like to walk, will you join me?”
He held out an elbow for her, and she hesitated before accepting the invitation. Giving her a small smile, the king walked her from the library into the main hall.
“See this long stretch of wall here? I planned on having paintings done of her daughters and displaying them.”
Mariana glanced at the wall, imagining for a moment Astra’s and Aurora’s portraits hanging there, then her own at the end. As she blinked back the vision, Stavros pulled his elbow from her hand.
“Pardon me, I just want to clean this up quickly.” The king bent down to gather all the loose parchment littering the floor from the wind that had manifested fromnowhereduring her strike of anger earlier.
“Why?” she asked, bewildered by his impulse to clean when no one was around.
Stavros paused, then neatly shuffled the pages he’d collected. “I ask myself that very question frequently. And do you know what I tell myself?”
Mariana shook her head.
He gave her a sad smile. “I’m still allowed to dream.”
After placing the stacked pages on the desk nearby, he lifted his elbow again. “Shall we?”
Mariana took his offering, and together, they walked up the steps to the second floor.
“These were bedchambers made for all of you,” he admitted softly, staring at each of the four doors.
“If you didn’t know about me, how did you know you’d need to build a fourth room?”
Stavros gazed down at her and smiled. “I had hoped we would have a child together.”
Mariana couldn’t handle the emotion in his eyes and looked away, her throat growing tight.
He led her into each room, explaining the different colors he’d had in mind and how he would’ve liked to add a saltwater bath to each of them, then a tunnel on the first floor that would’ve led out to the ocean so they could all come and go as they pleased.
As he spoke, Mariana realized how much the king had thought about them being a family. And he was still dreaming they could be.
She blinked back tears, pushing away thoughts of what could’ve been. Then he turned to Cybele’s bedchamber and seemed to pause by the door.
“This, I admit, is the hardest room for me to enter,” he said softly, a slight blush gracing his high cheekbones. “You see,” he started, his voice cracking slightly, “I always wished this could become a second home for all of you. A peaceful place to escape, or a path for adventure. I see now that, perhaps, it was a nonsensical dream.”
Mariana couldn’t stop herself. In a moment of weakness, she leaned her head against his shoulder, smelling the fresh scent of mint wafting off his surcoat as they stared at her mother’s door. “I don’t think so,” she whispered, holding back the emotion brewing deep in her chest.
They stayed that way for a long moment before venturing back downstairs, neither of them strong enough to enter her mother’s room.
