Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
He frowns. “He’s in the morgue. There hasn’t been time to figure out a proper burial process, and Theseus wants nothing to do with the entire situation, but it didn’t feel right to ask you when things were still…” He motions vaguely.
“When I was still captive?”
“Yes, that.” He shifts closer and lowers his voice. “Obviously, sending him back to Aeaea isn’t an option currently, but if that’s something you want to do, we’ll see about preserving him until we can make it happen. If Olympus is—”
“I don’t care,” I cut in. Strangely, it’s even the truth. “He was a monster, and not even a redeemable one. The only reason he died is because he tried to kill me, and my sister defended me. So no, I won’t be carting him back to Aeaea, regardless of whatever his wishes might have been. Toss him in the dumpster for all I care.”
He frowns. “You don’t mean that.”
“In fact, I do.” I think I mean it. My chest is a tangled mess of emotions I don’t dare name. I should hate my father. I should not be mourning a man who was willing to pull the trigger and end my life. The one who made most of my life a fucking agony. Ariadne insists there was a time when he was a good father, but I think that’s just a fiction she clings to because the truth is far too bleak for my sunny sister. Our father has always been a monster. And while maybe he offered her kindness initially when she was still a good, obedient daughter, I never had that privilege.
I disappointed him the moment I was born too small, too weak. I spent my entire life trying to twist myself into a form that he would approve of, only to discover that there was no approval. There never would be. I couldn’t train out my very existence, and that was the thing my father most objected to. Me.
The wave of understanding is quickly followed by another of rage, so strong that it makes me quiver. Somehow, in all this, I didn’t realize how angry I am. I would’ve never come to this fucking city if I hadn’t been dragged along in service of my father’s ambition. Maybe my life wasn’t great back on Aeaea, but at least I was free. At least Ariadne was free. Now look at us.
Well, she actually is free this time. That’s no small miracle, and I hold that kernel of relief next to my heart. It doesn’t do anything to combat the mess that I am, but maybe in the future it will.
“Icarus…he’s your father.”
“Did you cry when you put your uncle in the ground? Your cousins?” The question snaps from my lips without me having any intention of speaking it.
Poseidon rears back as if I slapped him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“An uncle isn’t a father, but a monster is a monster. So I’ll ask you again—did you shed a tear when you put your uncle in the ground?”
He stares at me for so long, I’m sure he won’t answer. Or, worse, that maybe he’ll pick me up and toss me into the surf I can hear crashing against the rocks below. But those are the actions of another man, not Poseidon. I really should know better by now.
“No,” he says slowly. “I didn’t shed a tear for my uncle or my cousins. We weren’t close, which would be reason enough I suppose, but the truth is exactly what you stated—he was a monster.”
I don’t ask him if he killed his family. That may be the quietest rumor that’s ever run through Olympus; my father’s reports say it died out a very long time ago. Anyone who’s spent five minutes in Poseidon’s presence knows that he’s not the type of person to coldly murder an entire family, no matter how monstrous. It was pure shitty luck that the illness that swept through that household was fatal.
Or maybe one of his uncle’s many victims decided to take matters into their own hands. More power to them.
“Exactly. And I won’t cry over my father.” Probably. But if I do, I’ll be damned before a single person witnesses it. He may have believed me weak my entire life, but I’ll die before I allow that weakness to be witnessed by others. Not again. Never again.
Poseidon inhales slowly and then exhales just as slowly. “I have three more stops to make, but if you want to go back to the house—”
“No. I’ll come with you.” If my thoughts are this tangled while in his presence, they’ll only become worse when I’m alone. I know from experience that they tend to grow thorns and claws and fangs, all the better to tear into me and heighten my anxieties about everything that could and will go wrong. It’s why I’ve never been on good terms with sleep. There was a time when I could use sex to exhaust myself enough to sleep properly, but I haven’t had that luxury since arriving in Olympus.