Chapter 38

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People bustle about outside the door, and the chattering seeps in through the thick wood. Energy thrums through the palace in gentle waves, albeit ones with a hint of anxiety. Regardless of that, Dad's all soft smiles and soft touches.

He can't keep himself from brushing his fingers against my shoulders or my arms. A hum rumbles deep in his chest. I lean back to feel it, much to his complaint.

"I can't finish doing your hair like this." While I know that's annoying him, the note of happiness in his voice is unmistakable.

"My hair's fine." Already all matter of shimmery gems and pearls and silver chains have been clipped or braided or looped in--some taken out--and a pile remains beside Dad. A few of the pieces I recognize as coming from his hoard. Knowing that, it's not surprising that he lets me tug at his bracelets.

The metal, warmed by his skin, gleams. Wave patterns are embossed into the golden surface. Matching sets adorn my arms. Those were a gift I hadn't thought much of at the time, but now they send a warm buzz through me. Unlike the blankets and the food, these had come with whispered apologies. No reason to think of other motives for them.

"You should look perfect for today." A scaled arm settles over me. His reflection frowns in contemplation. "I think your hair will look better loose. But then that loses a lot of the jewels." Tiny diamonds and opals shimmer as I tilt my head. Woven into the long black strands, they shine like stars in the night sky. Beautiful--Shiny--and as close as I'll ever get to having the same sheen in my hair as he does.

"If you take it down and take out some of the braids, then you can pull the others back." It will also get rid of the chains dangling from the updo, that I'm convinced are going to tangle into a knot. Formal Atlantean styles are a pain that I can't get myself out of. Especially since I convinced him not to curl my hair for this.

Some of this is probably because he doesn't want me to change my mind. That's something I know, but the fact that he's willing to offer it in the first place?

"There we go," Dad says. My hair flows in the water, and I let out a sigh. "Little one, as much as I would wish it, you can't lie here all day."

"You're comfy." I feel younger than I am, and in the mirror I can see exactly how young I must seem to him curled against his chest with one hand grasping at his tunic. Those moments...they're not faked this time.

He pets my head, silent for a moment. "You're nervous."

"Mhm." How couldn't I be? Gods... No matter how much Cyreus assured me Dad's different--before and after that meeting with him when we solidified my fate--I can't fully wrap my head around it. Eight years I've been nothing more than a pawn. This is a new world that I'm not sure I want to dip my toes into.

"Not many mortals are foolish enough to target someone a god is actively protecting."

"It's not that." I shake my head. Dad's cologne calms me just a little. "I'm just...not sure I'll be any good at what you want me to do." Hands meant for destruction tremble until I wrap them around myself.

"What do you think I'll be wanting you to do?" he says quietly. "Because unless you've become far less insistent on your ability to protect yourself, I cannot think of a thing you could do to disappoint me in this." He eases me away from him, before pulling over a box. "Close your eyes."

He fumbles with the box and curses, before flipping the lid open. Weight settles on my head. Dad pokes and pulls at my hair, jabbing me a few times. A tiara, then, if he's threading it in. But the weight is too far back, and it's too heavy.

"There we go," Dad says, and I open my eyes.

Seven hollow silver triangles radiate from the hidden band, reinforced by an arc. The topmost ones curl slightly, and black scales dangle from each pointed end by thin chains.

"Those..." My fingers drift to the one on my necklace. It pulses with warmth. "Dad."

"It doesn't hurt me to lose a few now and again." He rises. "And the Atlanteans say they're good luck. Can't say I've any because of them, but perhaps it'll work better for you."

"Using them to claim me's a bonus then?"

He laughs and helps me up. I smooth out the wrinkles in the rich purple draping my figure. It's looser than I'd like it to be, but the flowing material easily disguises the knife strapped to my thigh. Dad didn't put up a fight against it, and he even offered me a peronai instead of just using the buttons to fasten it. I trace my fingers over the pin.

This time, I'm not defenseless.

I hate that it took me being on the edge of death for a week to get to this point.

"My beautiful, beautiful girl." He kisses the back of my hand. "Do you think you can make it a few halls without getting attacked? I need to finish getting ready."

"I should be fine." I smile. "Thank you."

* * *

"This is heavy," I mumble.

"I'm in full ceremonial armor, I don't think you can complain much, your Highness." Cyreus grimaces. "This is when I'm glad your father is who he is. I don't know how I'm expected to be able to react quickly in this."

"Where are you going to be, anyway?" I look at him. "Palace or---?"

"I have to work in conjunction with your father's personal guard, so I will be public facing today. It's far easier to keep an eye on the others behavior when you're there." His spear taps against the ground anxiously. I don't mention it, because I'm just as rattled. Having him behind me is almost as natural as having Annabeth at this point.

Stopping, I turn, stand on the tips of my toes, and tuck a piece of his hair back under his helmet.

"Your Highness..." Other guards are watching us now that we're in the main halls. Servants too, which is more of an issue.

"You're my guard, I need to keep you presentable." I tap my finger on my lips. "Can't have you reflecting poorly on me, now can we? Gods only know what people would say if my guard were to look like a mess today. First impressions are everything."

Nevermind if part of the reason he's a mess is because of me. A smile threatens to bloom.

"I will keep that in mind, your Highness, but your father is waiting."

Swallowing, I turn towards the door. Dad waits just past it. Maybe Amphitrite. I'm not sure how this day is supposed to go, most details were kept from me, and I want to hide, to crawl into my bed and not come out until Dad comes to find me. The thought tempts me. Instead, I move forward, pushing against the current that rushes in.

Dad's warm hand drops onto my shoulder. I take a deep breath as I'm led onto the balcony.

Sometimes it's not worth it to fight the current, and it's better to see where it takes you. Other times it's best to escape the riptide, slipping out of the very thing trying to draw you out.

I can only hope it will be the first one.

And finished!

This book is just shy of 90,000 words long, and I hope you guys enjoyed it. I was hoping to get this out yesterday so i could end it on a friday, but well...When a cat needs to be rushed to the vet what are you going to do?

(He's good btw. Just has to rest for the weekend and go get stitches taken out on monday.)

See yah

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