A Heart of Vowfire

His eyes were like two burning embers, furious as he watched her. They were so different than the eyes she’d looked into years ago. Worlds colder. Older. Yet they were just as warm looking at her as they had ever been. He reached for her, cupping her face.

“I'll be home soon. I promise," he whispered, drawing closer.

She shifted closer, basking in his warmth. This was just a dream, a vision, she knew. She had dreams like this of him nearly every night since he left in their secret garden made of glass flowers and a sky of vowfire.

"I’m still waiting for you.”

He smiled, his lips twitching. Then, he went pale. He coughed, sputtered. Her heart lurched.

“Leandros?” She asked, reaching for him as he turned away, choking. Blood trickling from his nose.

"Soon," he said. His voice turned hoarse. "Soon…"

Penelope surfaced from the dream, opening her eyes and swallowing the hiss of pain coming from the cursed weight around her neck. It always felt lighter in her private altar room, but it was never completely gone.

It wouldn’t be gone until the mess her father left behind was cleaned up.

Soon.

She lifted her eyes to meet the gaze of the statue of the patron of her island. For the first time in fifteen years, fire burned in her Goddess's eyes.

"Is it time?" She asked softly.

Lightning flashed off the coast in answer. The scent of fresh rain over the ocean drifted in. She rose to her feet, walking to the window to look out. Her lips twitched. The clouds had grown thicker over the harbor, but she was not surprised to see the imperial ships from the mainland had made it to the island in one piece.

Having them lost at sea would have been too easy, she supposed.

Lightning curled through the air and struck the waves. It was a great and terrible omen for a queen of Caelthos to be born on a stormy day, as she had been. For her life to be bookended by another storm felt poetic, if a bit ominous.

Did the Goddess not approve of her plan? She clenched her fists and took a deep breath. Had the Pantheon decided to stop her?

Would they ask so much of her and give nothing?

"Fate is a tyrant," she whispered. "Destiny is her army, and Chaos its shield."

Whatever would happen was mostly out of her control, but she hoped that she would get to see him in person one last time.

The door behind her opened, slamming against the wall. She knew who it was without turning. Only one person would ever have the nerve to come into her altar room in such a fashion.

"Here again, I see," he chuckled. "Have the Gods any more to say than before?"

Lightning struck the beach near the docks.

"The same as always…" she said lightly. "Though I would not expect a mainlander to listen… If you are here to tell me that King Naos and his crown prince have arrived, save your breath. I can see his ships in the harbor."

He came up behind her, drawing close enough to heat the air along her back, to smell her, but not close enough to touch. Good. He'd learned.

"This would have all been easier if you had simply done your duty—"

"I would not expect a man with no real title or standing to understand my duty." She turned, walking around him as he snarled. "I would suggest you leave my altar room as I do, lest you may find yourself at the mercy of a woman you cannot fathom."

He scoffed, and she reached the door. "Your statues and prayers mean—" He choked.

Penelope took the door's latch and turned to see him flailing in the arms of the statue. One slender, dark arm locked around his neck. A marble sword dug into his side as he flailed and struggled to breathe.

"Only a fool would insult a god on sacred ground. Perhaps an apology might allow your continued existence."

"I—I— Sorry!" She released him into a heap on the floor. He scrambled away from the statue, out of reach, clutching his neck and sputtering. He dragged himself to his feet and stood before Penelope, barely an inch taller than her, and bared his teeth. "You must think you're funny."

Penelope smiled plainly. "Not at all. I simply know who is on my side."

He lifted his hand, threatening her, but she stared up into his face, bracing herself for the onslaught of pain.

"You can play tough," he said, lowering his voice to a low growl. "But we both know it's over." He smirked. "I can't wait to see you swollen with my child."

"If you think I would ever bear your child, you are more delusional than your master."

He bit out the familiar incantation that turned the necklace into a burning hot collar on her neck, squeezing her throat. She forced herself to remain standing, to stare into his eyes and hold her ground, exerting every drop of magic she could into keeping it from choking her out, but it seemed that either the collar was losing its strength or Viridian was because it stopped before she had even broken a sweat.

His expression was dark and murderous. He jumped away from the door as the statue came to a stop, her blade hefted high and poised to strike.

The fool hurried away from the doorway, knowing that the statue could not leave the hollowed ground on which it was erected. She met the glowing, furious eyes of her goddess with a smile.

Penelope left the doors open and followed the path toward the main hall, through the central courtyard, to the main receiving building of the palace. Already, the unwelcome visitors had gathered for food in her halls, drinking and eating as if she had invited them the way they had been nearly every year since she was of age. They believed they were eating from her stores, but she had been summoning wine, racks of meat, and food by the tons from stores of their homelands, rather than depleting her own island.

Mainland territories tended to gorge themselves on conquest, so they had never noticed.

She cursed her father again as she grew closer. She should have been able to send them all packing from the moment her father had the grace to drop dead, but by then, they had already infiltrated the palace, brought their various forces, and none too quietly invaded her island, like parasitic weeds.

And then there was the gaudy and cursed betrothal gift to complicate things. It would just as soon kill her as gleam in the light. She had managed to figure out a great deal about the spellwork on it, but not how to break it, nor who actually held power over it.

She would find out today, she was sure.

The guards announced her as she entered the hall.

Then, she came to a stop, setting her jaw and narrowing her eyes at the sight that greeted her.

What was she doing here?