Chapter Text
Take My Hand (I’ll Let Us Wander)
Love colored with iron and lace //
Another face going under the waves
The flowers in the field were nice, Percy decided. Better than the ones that were grown in the village. Those ones were pretty enough, but they looked dull in comparison to the field’s. They withered faster, too.
With an appreciative hum, Percy placed the flower—a vibrant yellow dahlia—into his journal, shutting it closed before searching for another flower. Perhaps a peony, if he could find it? His mom liked peonies. He’d seen some the day before, and barely anybody came to the fields because of the forest beside it, so surely there were some left.
As he searched around for a peony, he muttered each change he noticed with the surrounding flowers to himself, opening his journal and noting something down before he forgot.
One of the sunflowers was growing quicker than it should’ve but he didn’t think anything of it. The flowers in the fields always grew strangely, it wasn’t something new. If anything, it only made visiting it every day even more interesting. It was like a game, of sorts.
“PERCY!”
And from that yell, it would seem he’d lost that day’s game of ‘see how long it’ll take Grover for to realize I’m gone’.
At that thought, he quickly flipped to the back page of his journal, writing down his estimate of how long it’d been. At least two hours he’d say. Maybe three? He really should keep track of the sun a bit more…
“Percy, what in Eirene’s name are you doing?” Grover said once he’d finally reached him. His face was red and he was panting, like he’d just ran around the entire village multiple times.
He… probably did, now that Percy thought about it.
“Sorry,” Percy said sheepishly, placing his journal and pencil back into his bag so his hands were available to sign. I wanted to sketch the flowers.
Grover sighed, lifting his hands up to sign while talking. He didn’t need to do that, Percy could hear just fine, but Grover said it helped him calm down when he was stressed so he didn’t say anything. “I know that,” he said, “but you can’t keep running off. Especially into the fields. You know how Mom feels about it. What if Priest Samuel thinks you’re a Cursed?”
He wouldn’t think that.
“You don’t know that,” Grover argued, concern evident. “He thinks anyone that doesn’t act exactly how they should is a Cursed, or worse, one of them.”
Percy was able to catch on to what Grover was saying pretty quickly. You mean a Fae, right?
“Of course I do. You know it’s not a good thing to say their name out loud,” Grover continued. His signing was getting faster the more he spoke. “The fields are right next to the forest and you know that Priest Samuel’s convinced half the town that the fields are infected. If the wrong person sees you, they’d tell him!”
Nothing will happen, Percy insisted. Mom wouldn’t let that happen.
Grover sighed again, defeated. “Mom can’t do everything, Percy. I know you think she can, but if Priest Samuel says you’re one of the Fair Folk, you’re dead,” he paused, as if reconsidering his words before continuing, quietly, “you remember what happened to Silena.”
Percy’s small smile fell, the sight of blood on a knife flashing through his mind.
“If they decide that you’re dangerous, they’ll kill you—”
They won’t.
“They will,” Grover insisted. He frowned at Percy’s unconvinced expression before giving up. Percy had long since made it clear that he wasn’t going to stop visiting the fields, there wasn’t a point in trying anymore. “Please, Percy, if you’re going to keep visiting, just… be careful about it, okay? Don’t—don’t let anyone see you.” He eyed the forest behind Percy warily. “Especially around there. Please?”
Percy considered for a couple of moments. “Fine,” he murmured eventually. I’ll be careful. No one will see me.
Grover’s mouth thinned in the way it did when he was worried. Percy hurriedly signed again.
Careful, he repeated. Careful. Careful.
“I know you will be, Percy,” Grover said, still sounding scared. But he sounded calmer than before and his signing was significantly slower. “You always are. I’m just—I don’t know what we’d do if you died.”
Fine, Percy signed. I’ll be fine. We all will.
“Right,” Grover murmured, almost to himself, “we’ll be fine.”
He then glanced up at the sky, frowning at the sun’s position.
“We need to go,” he said. “Mom’s expecting us home soon. We might be a bit late, even if we run, so let’s get going. You and I both know Annabeth will kill us if we make Mom worry.”
Scary, was all Percy signed.
Grover laughed, previous somberness practically forgotten. “Yeah, scary.”
Percy smiled at the laugh, pleased with himself, as he always was when he cheered up one of his older siblings. It was nice hearing them laugh.
As they walked back in the direction of the village, they chattered about this and that. Percy rambled about the flowers he saw, Grover told him the recent drama he’d overheard while running through the village trying to find him, and the conversation eventually turned to betting on what dinner was going to be that night.
“We don’t even have any tomatoes at home!” Grover argued. “How would she make tomato soup?”
Mom would find a way, Percy insisted, vehemently defending his decision.
Grover looked as if he was about to say something before pausing, considering. Percy grinned at the reluctant agreement on his face.
“I should’ve left you in the fields,” his older brother remarked when he spotted his grin.
But you didn’t.
“I hope Mom puts you up for adoption.”
Percy made a heart with his hands before signing, love you too!
Grover scoffed light-heartedly, a smile on his face, though he was desperately trying to hide it.
Percy was about to tease him about it when he paused, turning back to glance behind them. He felt anxious, suddenly, feeling as though there were ants crawling on his skin.
“Is something wrong?” Grover asked once he noticed he wasn’t following anymore.
Someone, Percy stopped signing, jerking around to face the forest—which was a lot farther away now since they weren’t halfway across the fields anymore—entirely.
“Percy?” his brother asked again, sounding even more nervous. “What’s wrong?”
Felt watched, Percy signed shortly, someone’s watching. Movement. Forest.
“Watching…?” Grover’s eyes widened in dawning horror, grabbing Percy by the arm and sprinting. Percy barely stopped himself from stumbling from how aggressively he’d been tugged.
What, he attempted to sign before giving up. “W-what are—?”
“Nothing,” Grover said hurriedly. Judging by the sheer look of panic on his face, it was not ‘nothing’. “It’s just—we need to go.”
“But—”
Grover ignored him, not breaking his sprint until they were closer to the village outskirts, and even then, his pace was quick, his eyes darting around for any villagers. Grover’s words echoed in Percy’s head for a moment, “Be careful about it. Don’t let anyone see you.”
Once he saw his opportunity, Percy yanked his arm out of his brother’s grip and grabbed his wrist instead, wordlessly guiding him to the path into the village that he used constantly when leaving.
This way’s better, he signed, eyeing Grover’s concerned look.
“Alright,” he said after a couple moments of silence. “I’ll trust you on that.”
The path was a small, barely-used road that led directly to the fields. From what he could tell, it was used by the founding villagers before they discovered the Cursed and Fair Folk infesting the forest beside them. After that, it fell into disuse, almost entirely forgotten by the village. He hadn’t known about until Mrs. Evans, the baker, told him about it. She was one of the few that knew about his occasional ventures to the fields, and that was only because she and her husband, Mr. Evans, had practically raised him and his siblings along with their mom.
That, and because they were worshippers of Vanadis; thus they didn’t believe in any of Priest Samuel’s ideals, no matter how irritated it made him. Fortunately, he couldn’t do anything to them for that as that would be an insult to the Dying Light, whose teachings were similar to the Guiding Star’s but ultimately different in the end.
Percy was sure that if the Evans followed the Guiding Star instead, he’d have been killed a long time ago.
Which wasn’t exactly a thought he wanted to think on, at the time, so he shoved it to the side and moved on, quietly guiding Grover to the path that led into an alley which led into the market. It was honestly impressive that the path was overlooked so much.
The path cut down the time it took to get home by quite a bit, so they made it to their house decently quickly. When they opened the door, however, Annabeth clearly did not share the sentiment.
“Where were you?” she asked, arms crossed. Unlike Grover, she rarely signed unless she was really stressed.
Before Percy could execute his well-developed, foolproof plan (lie and pray to whatever god was out there that Grover would go along with it), his traitor of a brother said, “Percy was in the fields again.”
Percy scowled. You’re dead to me.
“You were WHERE?” Annabeth yelled. Grover shushed her, eyeing the stray villagers wandering around the street, thankfully far away enough that they wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation (excluding Annabeth’s yelling). They still got a few weird looks though.
With a tired, irritated sigh, Annabeth moved out of the way, letting them enter the house; not without giving Percy a look, of course.
The moment they stepped foot past the threshold, their mom, Sally, hurried out of the kitchen toward them.
“There you are!” she yelled in relief, wiping some dough off her hands with a wet rag. “Where were you?”
This time, Percy didn’t bother to try and lie. If it was something small, like stealing something from their neighbor, Gabe (oh, how he hated that guy), Annabeth would’ve had his back.
Unfortunately, being in the fields was a lot more dangerous than stealing from their terrible neighbor—at least, to his family—so it was highly unlikely that she’d dare to lie to Mom about it.
“Percy was at the fields.” Yup, there it was. “Grover found him there.”
“Percy!” his mom yelled, scolding. “What were you thinking? I told you to stay away from the fields!”
Despite how vehemently he defended his actions to Grover, he shriveled at his mom’s tone; guilt seeping in, stronger than before.
“I know…” he mumbled, ashamed.
Sally sighed in exhaustion, more disappointed than angry. To be honest, it hurt more than if she was screaming at him (which she never did). “Then why?”
“It… well, they…”
“You can sign, Percy,” Grover muttered to him. “It’s fine. Mom just wants an explanation. You’re not in trouble.”
“I’ll be the one to decide that,” Sally said, but he could tell from her tone that he wasn’t going to be in trouble.
I was stressed, he signed when the focus was back on him. So I started sketching, but the florist’s flowers aren’t as pretty so I went to the fields instead.
Sally raised a hand, massaging her temple. “Percy, you can’t do that,” she insisted. “It’s too dangerous. What if Samuel saw you?”
Grover mentioned that already.
“Well, I’m mentioning it again,” his mom frowned. “I know the fields are calming to you, and I know you’d stay in them all day and night if you could, but it’s not safe. Especially not now.”
Percy paused at that, tilting his head. Behind him, Grover and Annabeth glanced at each other, just as confused as him.
“‘Especially not now’?” Annabeth repeated. She took a step closer to them, brows furrowed in concern. “What do you mean? Did something happen?”
Sally stared at them for a couple of moments, considering, before sighing heavily, moving to sit on the armchair beside the couch. Wordlessly, the siblings followed, settling on the couch. Like they always did when their mom had bad news.
She stared at the floor for a bit. None of them said anything, the silence dragging on for seemingly forever until she raised her head, a tired expression on her face.
“Samuel declared that no one is allowed to leave the village without permission from him or one of the Higher Guard,” she said finally.
“What?” Grover yelled before Annabeth and Percy could probably process that sentence. “He can’t do that! That’s the decision of the Duke!”
Annabeth scowled, muttering a curse. “Priest Samuel’s close with him,” she said darkly, “he’s practically a duke as well with how much Duke Harold listens to him.”
And the Higher Guard allowed this? Percy signed, head spinning. Why would Priest Samuel do that? What was the point?
“They follow the Duke,” Sally replied. “Even the Captain’s word doesn’t mean anything compared to him.”
“Then maybe we should make Amalthea the duchess instead,” Annabeth argued. “She wouldn’t let herself be manipulated by a priest.”
Sally frowned. “Be careful with what you say outside this house, Annie. If Samuel heard you, he’d accuse you of being one of the Fair Folk.”
“Can we trust any of his accusations?” Grover muttered angrily. “Half of them don’t even make sense, why do people always believe him?”
“He’s the priest,” Sally said simply. She looked so much older whenever he was even mentioned. “People will believe anything if they think it’s from the Bright-Eyed One.”
The Guiding Star’s not doing much guiding, is she?
Sally laughed at that, eyes brightening the slightest bit. “It would seem so, Percy. Or, Samuel’s just lying about everything. As always.”
“Maybe they should worship the Truth-Seeker instead,” Annabeth muttered bitterly.
Grover snorted. “I don’t think even Themis could convince them that Priest Samuel’s lying.”
It’s worth a shot. Percy signed. Then he frowned, turning to his mom. Does this mean I can’t go to the fields at all?
“I already told you that you couldn’t go,” Sally said, “but yes, it means you can’t go to the fields. It was already risky now—and trust me, we will be talking about this later—but with the guard and Samuel keeping watch, it’s far more likely you’d get caught than before.”
Percy slumped into the couch, disappointed.
“You wouldn’t have been able to go anyway, Percy,” Annabeth said, though she did have a little pity in her tone.
I know, he signed miserably. I’m just a bit upset. He paused for a bit, unsure on how to word his next sentence.
The fields feel right to be in, he signed eventually, not the village. The village feels wrong.
He didn’t notice it, too focused on signing his thoughts to Annabeth, but Grover’s expression darkened at his words, like he’d just remembered something unpleasant.
“Huh,” Annabeth mumbled, eyes calculating. “That’s… interesting.”
She crossed her arms, lifting a hand to her chin in thought. Already, Percy could tell that this would be occupying her mind for the next hour or two, and so he turned to his mom and brother instead. What about travelers?
“They’ll be inspected thoroughly,” Sally explained, “no matter how trusted they may be. Since older Fair Folk are able to imitate appearances, they need to make sure none of the usual traders are actually Fair Folk in disguise.”
Fae haven’t been seen in so long, Percy signed in confusion, why now?
Sally sneered suddenly, rolling her eyes. “He claims that he sensed a Fair Folk among the village,” she said dryly. “An old one.”
Annabeth, who tuned back into the conversation at the mention of the Fair Folk, tilted her head. “Like, how old?”
Sally snorted. “Old enough that he thinks it’s the Lord.”
Grover’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”
The Lord? Percy signed. But aren’t they just a myth?
“Not to Samuel,” their mom scoffed. “He says that it’s a sign the Fair Folk are planning to invade. They also say they’ve had more sightings of the Cursed on the outskirts of the village. A Vexkkal or two, I think.”
I’m going to guess that they were regular stags in golden lighting.
“Probably.”
“If he thinks the Lord’s in the village,” Grover began, nervous, “then why doesn’t he go to the Queen instead of the Duke?”
“From what I heard, he did report it to the Queen,” Sally explained dully, “but she declined his request for support from the Imperial Guard. She wants proof of the Lord’s existence and presence, and since he’s probably just lying about it, he can’t give her the proof she wants.”
Percy found that a lot more entertaining than he probably should’ve. “Serves him right,” he said.
“It’s good that the Queen’s not as gullible as the Duke,” Annabeth remarked.
Sally nodded in agreement, smiling. Then, she suddenly glanced at the kitchen, as if she just remembered she had been cooking before Percy and Grover came home.
“Oh, damn it,” she muttered, standing from her chair and hurrying into the kitchen.
As loud clattering echoed into the living room, the three shared a look.
“Sorry, kids!” Sally finally yelled after a few moments. “Dinner’s going to be a bit late!”
Something fell and their mother cursed. Loudly.
“Never mind, it’s going to be very late!”
“She dropped the soup pot, didn’t she,” Annabeth muttered.
“Probably,” Grover said, standing from the couch and running into the kitchen to help out. Annabeth followed him soon after.
Percy was left sitting on the couch alone, listening to the noise of his family cleaning the spilled soup off the kitchen floor. It was going to stink of rabbit meat for weeks. He pushed off the couch, a smile on his face as he entered the kitchen.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
—
Only later, when he was curled up in bed, did he realize that he’d forgotten to tell his mom about the feeling of being watched while leaving the fields. He pushed aside, vowing that he’d tell her the next morning.
He didn’t notice the shadow in his window, nor the person slowly creeping into his room, sleep dragging him into its embrace.
—
The next day, Sally took him to the market, as punishment for going to the fields the day before when he wasn’t meant to.
He was wrong. That tone did not mean that he was spared.
“We need to get meat,” Sally said, list in hand. “Some vegetables, too. Fruit, bread. Maybe a few treats from the Evans.”
Percy carried the basket for her, dutifully following her through the crowded market.
As they walked through different stalls and buildings, he heard bits and pieces of the latest gossip; all of them about the Lord.
“I heard that one of the guards spotted the Lord near the village,” a lady whispered to her friend, eyes wide.
“Really?” her friend gasped, hands over her mouth. “But if the Lord’s nearby, then the Envoy has to be, too!”
“That’s why Priest Samuel’s trying to convince the Queen to send some of the Imperial Army,” a third woman said. “He says this is our chance to finally draw out the Envoy and kill them.”
“But how?”
“The Imperial Guard has weapons with pure silver,” the woman smirked. “All it takes is a spear through the chest and they’re dead.”
The first lady moved to say something, but Sally nudged Percy away from them and toward the Evans’s bakery.
“Don’t listen to all the gossip, Percy,” she said, opening the door to the bakery. She waited until he’d walked in before following, “it doesn’t matter. You don’t need to concern yourself with this.”
“I was just curious,” Percy whispered to her. He still had the basket in his hands, so he couldn’t sign. Sally noticed this and took it from him.
“You can always tell me if you feel like signing, Percy.”
Now that his hands were free, Percy signed out, I know. I just wanted to hold the basket for you.
Sally smiled at that. “And I’m glad you do. But I don’t want to force you to talk when you don’t want to. I’m fine with carrying the basket.”
Percy was about to reply when they were interrupted by a loud yell of delight and suddenly, he was enveloped in a tight hug. By the time he was let go, he bent over, struggling to breathe.
The only reason he didn’t immediately have a panic attack was because Mr. Evans’s hugs are very easy to recognize after spending your entire life both suffering through and savoring them.
“Well, look who it is!” Mr. Evans said gleefully, hugging his mom just as tightly. “You’re here a bit earlier than usual today!”
“We got through the butcher rather quickly,” Sally forced out.
“George!” Mrs. Evans yelled, walking out from behind the counter. “You’re strangling the poor woman! Let her breathe!”
Immediately, Mr. Evans moved away from Sally, smiling sheepishly.
“Sorry about that, Ms. Sally,” he said, tipping the straw hat one of the farmers gifted him a while back. “Just a bit excited.”
“You haven’t come over in a while.” Mrs. Evans said, moving to stand beside her husband. “We missed you both quite a bit. Where are the other two?”
“They’re watching over the house,” Sally replied once she’d caught her breath. “I’m baking a pie and they’re making sure it doesn’t burn.”
They’re going to forget, Percy signed to the Evans when his mom wasn’t looking. And then they’re going to try and replace it with another pie and Mom’s going to pretend nothing happened.
Mrs. Evans nodded. “Ah, of course. Well, best we get them some treats as payment for being such hard workers. Come with us in the back, we reserved some pastries for you…”
Sally followed the Evans into the kitchen behind the counter. They had some other workers there, just some people they compensated with some money and free food, so there wasn’t any need to stay in the front. Percy stayed behind, like he always did. He liked looking at the forest-themed decor the Evans’s had in their bakery, aptly named Evergreen Delights.
From what he could tell, they had a couple new wood-carved trees scattered around. The sculptures were small but detailed, clearly made by a skilled hand. The craftsmanship was impressive and he noted down that he’d need to ask the Evans who, exactly, was carving all the trees.
He was looking over a rather impressive looking one—a willow tree, carved out of oak—when someone approached him.
“Excuse me,” the man said, “but do you know where the Guiding Star’s church is?”
Percy looked away from the statue, briefly panicking over whether he should sign or talk. He decided to give signing a try.
It’s near the center of town, he signed, hoping the guy would understand, it’s the tallest church in the village, the windows are stained yellow, and it has her symbol over the door. You can’t miss it.
“And how would you get to the center of town?” the man asked while—to Percy’s surprise and relief—signing his words out. “Do I take a left or…?”
Take a right, he explained, then head down the main road. It’s marked with gold on the sides.
The man raised a brow. “The road? Why is that?”
The Radiant Church’s priest got the Duke to add those to the roads so it’s easier to find.
The man tilted his head and Percy suddenly felt a spike of anxiety. There was something… unnatural about it, and now that he noticed that, he began to notice all the other unsettling things about the man’s appearance. “What about the other churches? Are they not… important enough?”
They’re important, Percy signed after a brief pause, eyeing the man’s face. It was… perfect. Completely symmetrical, which just wasn’t possible. The more he noticed, the more he wanted to leave. Gods, he hoped Sally would come out soon. The Radiant Church’s priest just happens to be friends with the Duke.
“Is that so,” the man said dully, eyes narrowed. Percy had to resist the urge to run.
It’s just how it is, he signed, praying that the man didn’t notice his shaking hands.
“Right. Well, I better leave now,” the man said. Percy frowned. As far as he could tell, the man hadn’t bought anything. Did he only come in here for directions? Never mind, it didn’t matter. If it meant the man was leaving, then he’d take it.
And then the man passed him a bag, one that looked distinctly like the ones that the Evans used for their pastries.
“Here,” the man said. “In return for your help.”
Nope, nope, he was not accepting that.
Quickly, Percy signed, my mom told me not to take food from strangers.
“Oh? She did?” and for some reason, the man only smiled. “Hm, she’s a smart woman, I’m guessing.”
Okay, Percy was starting to get really uncomfortable now.
Thankfully, the man took back the bag, putting it away in the satchel he had at his hip. Percy didn’t even notice it.
“You’re a smart kid,” the man said. Percy smiled hesitantly, internally begging the man to please just get out of the bakery already.
The man left without another word and Percy thanked every god he knew of once he was out of sight, because finally the Lord was gone—
He paused. The Lord? Why had he thought that? The Lord was just a myth, so why—? Never mind. He was probably just paranoid after all the talk about him. The man was probably just some… really weird guy. After all, who wears—
… why couldn’t he remember what the man was wearing?
Before he could freak out over that surprisingly terrifying thought, his mother finally—finally!—walked out from the back, the basket now filled to the brim with pastries and bread alongside everything else.
“Sorry that took so long, Perce,” Sally said cheerily. “There were some complications with the bread and—” she paused, brows furrowing and her mouth tugging down into a frown. “Percy,” she began, concerned, “why are you so pale? Did something happen while I was gone?”
It took a concerningly long amount of time for Percy to process what she said and sign out a response.
I’m fine. Tired.
That only made her frown more and she extended a hand, placing it on his forehead.
“You don’t have a temperature,” she murmured to herself. She straightened her back, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding him out of the bakery. “It’s fine, let’s just go home and I’ll let you rest, okay? Grover and I can finish the rest.”
Percy just nodded, too focused on trying to remember what he was thinking about before.
What… what was he thinking about before?
—
Perseus wandered into the forest, his glamor falling the moment he was hidden in the shadows Odysseus had been so kind to bestow upon the entire forest. He sighed in exhaustion. It’d been a while since he’d maintained a glamor like that for so long. He wasn’t able to make it as authentic as he would’ve liked (clearly, he was more unsettling to the boy than he thought he would’ve been), but alas, that was the price he paid for going from memory. He knew he should’ve analyzed what regular people looked like a bit more. Or, at least kidnapped one.
Ugh, but then that would’ve led to a whole mess with one of the villages. And Odysseus would kill him if he drew anymore attention to them—
“Well, well,” a very, very familiar voice said from behind him. Perseus sighed again. “That was certainly entertaining.”
Perseus turned around to face the Lover, brow raised. “What are you doing so close to the forest border? I thought you were with the Warrior.”
The Lover laughed, her voice melodic, yet powerful. “You’re in the forest, darling, you can drop the titles.”
Perseus shrugged, moving to walk further into the forest. “When we’re this close to the fields? No, it’s not worth the risk.”
The Lover shrugged, but she looked convinced. Somewhat. “Fair,” she conceded. “Still, you don’t have to do that with me. We both know that even if the Faithless knew my name, they couldn’t use it against me.”
Perseus laughed. “I wish it was the same for Envoy and I. It’d make things so much easier.”
“One day,” the Lover said ominously. Perseus had long since learned to not question her random claims, much like with the Sun. “Anyway, back to that boy. I find it particularly interesting that you would sneak into the village that is actively working to keep us out just to see him.”
“I was curious,” was all Perseus said.
“Oh, come on,” the Lover said. “I’m your sister, surely you can tell me more than that!”
“It’s not anything special—”
“You watch him wander through the fields every time,” the Lover deadpanned.
Perseus paused at that before shrugging. She had him there. “Again, curiosity.”
“I think not,” she said, running a hand through her hair. Not even a single strand was out of place, as always. “There’s something more. You don’t do things like this out of sheer curiosity. You don’t risk your life out of sheer curiosity. What are you not telling me?”
“Nothing,” Perseus insisted again, only realizing too late that he’d spoken far too fast.
The Lover raised a brow, tilting her head. She scrutinized him for a couple of moments before her eyes widened in realization, a giddy smile growing on her face.
“Oh, is the Lord considering expanding his family?”
“Shut it,” he snapped; again, all too quickly. The Lover’s grin only widened.
“I never thought the day would come,” she said dreamily. “I’m finally going to be an auntie, as the Faithless call it!”
“It’s only if Envoy approves,” he muttered in defeat, giving up. She already knew, what was the point?
“Oh, you and Odysseus’s first child! And what a sweet boy he is! Truly just like his soon-to-be fathers!”
Perseus shot her a questioning look. “You haven’t even met him.”
She smiled at him, eyes far too knowing. “I know many things, my dear brother. It’s best not to question it.”
Perseus did not question it, instead focusing on the trees around them.
“The trees look healthier,” he remarked.
“Yes,” the Lover agreed. “They do. They’ve been improving ever since you recovered.”
“And here I was thinking they were only connected to Envoy’s well-being…” he muttered to himself.
“Anyway!” the Lover said, interrupting his thought process. “Who’s going to tell Odysseus you snuck into the village, hm? Me or you?”
Perseus glanced at her and grinned, moving ahead of her on the path. “Who says he doesn’t already know?”