Chapter 3

"For what?"

Eudora's engagement robe lay spread on the floor. Ink had soaked through the pale folds, blackening even the gold embroidery.

"Don't play dumb." My mother's voice was ice. "You ruined it."

"Did you see me?"

"Phaedra saw you."

Eudora's maid knelt by the column, hands twisting together.

I turned to her.

"When?"

"Last night, my lady. Just past the third watch."

"Where?"

"The east corridor. Near the garden door."

"What was I wearing?"

"Purple robes."

Mirine stepped beside me.

"The braziers in the east corridor were emptied at sunset. I poured out the ashes myself. There was no moon last night."

Phaedra's hands went still.

"In that light, you couldn't see the color of anyone's clothes," Mirine said.

My mother's expression didn't change.

Eudora stared at the floor.

"Shall we bring water from the Styx?" I asked. "So you can swear an oath?"

Phaedra threw herself flat, sobbing.

"It was me! I knocked over the ink! I was afraid of being punished, so I—"

Before anyone could move, Eudora slapped her across the face.

"You wretch! How dare you slander Ianthe!"

Then she turned to me, tears springing up on command.

"I'm sorry. I should have managed her better."

"Enough." My mother waved a hand. "A misunderstanding. It's over."

"No."

She looked at me.

"She deliberately accused me to make you punish me. Why?"

"She already confessed."

"She confessed to spilling ink. Not to why she fabricated a story to frame me."

My mother glanced at Eudora.

In that instant, I felt cold all over.

She knew there was more.

She just didn't want it spoken aloud.

"Ianthe, you didn't lose anything."

"If I had actually done it, would you still say it was nothing?"

Her jaw tightened.

"Phaedra will be expelled from the palace immediately. The steward will escort her off the grounds."

She waved impatiently at the guards.

"Satisfied?"

Phaedra was dragged out crying. Eudora never once looked at her.

My mother nudged the ruined robe with her toe.

"No time to reweave it. Give Eudora your grandmother's cloak."

I couldn't speak for a moment.

My grandmother had woven it by hand.

White wool soft as water. Silver birds hidden in the folds. After she died, my father brought it home and gave it to me.

It was the only thing in that entire palace that still felt like mine.

"No."

"Eudora will stand before Olympus's most prominent house."

"She has an entire room of robes."

"You're marrying a storehouse guard. What do you need a cloak like that for?"

The last thread holding me together snapped.

"Father gave it to me because he knows who his daughter is."

The hall went silent.

"You just never seem to remember."

"Ianthe."

"Sometimes I wish you weren't my mother. At least then I wouldn't have to keep wondering why you hate me."

The bronze lamp overhead began to sway.

"Take her to the punishment hall."

Mirine grabbed her wrist.

"Please. She's been ill all winter. Her body can't take it—"

"Ill?" My mother looked at her in disbelief. "The palace receives divine rations on schedule. There are healers in the temple. Tutors in the house. When has she ever gone without?"

I laughed.

Sharp. Ugly.

The rations were measured into Eudora's bowl. Healers hovered over her slightest headache. Tutors shut the door the moment they saw me lingering outside to listen.

My mother said I could have less.

Everyone obeyed.

She took my laugh as defiance.

Guards dragged me through the courtyard and forced me to kneel beneath the bronze relief recording her glorious victories.

My mother took a long whip from the wall.

I recognized that instrument.

Bronze knots blessed in ritual were embedded in the tip. Designed to suppress divine healing. To ensure the victim couldn't heal a single wound until the punishment was finished.

The first lash tore open my robe.

The second sent me sprawling forward, hands hitting the ground.

Golden ichor dripped between my fingers. I bit through my lip. The taste was the same.

She struck again.

And again.

At first, I tried to count. Then I just tried to breathe.

Eventually, the pain seemed to drift away, landing on some other kneeling girl.

Just before I lost consciousness, I heard my mother say:

"Now you know what you did wrong."

I closed my eyes.

My biggest mistake was always thinking that if I just did a little more, she would love me.

Never again.