“Well, I know I didn’t keep you up late. For once.” Juba grinned, and it was clear that there was still a young man behind his beard.
Selene narrowed her eyes. “Maybe that’s the problem.”
His eyebrows raised. “In that case, my queen, you’ll be full of energy tomorrow.” He nodded in the direction of the door. “Still, we can take a break. The aqueduct was the most pressing thing. I’m sure everything else can wait.”
She shook her head and yawned in the middle of it, which almost made her laugh in the most un-royal of ways. Why was she so tired? “I’ll be well. I will. Call in the next.”
Juba nodded his head, turned to face forward again, and then waved to the herald.
The herald bowed, disappeared through the doorway, and then returned again a few moments later with a young man in tow.
He was a handsome-enough man, well dressed, with deeply tanned skin that immediately reminded Selene of her homeland. She sat up a little straighter and focused on him as he approached. He was clearly nervous about the audience. Most people were, but there was something even more skittish about him, as if he half-expected to be struck by someone. It made her want to pity him. But then as she watched him get closer she realized, too, that he was someone that she felt she’d seen before. She couldn’t place where, but she was certain she’d met him.
The herald brought him up to a spot some five paces in front of the thrones, then stopped and bowed low. The young man with him stopped at his side, hesitated for a moment, and then awkwardly did the same.
“Thrasyllus of Mendes,” the herald announced. “Come from the Great Library of Alexandria.”
As the herald backed away once more, Selene found that she had leaned forward in her seat. To her right she sensed that Juba had done the same.
“Welcome, Thrasyllus of Mendes,” Juba said.
Thrasyllus opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and bowed again. “My Lord King,” he said. “Thank you for agreeing to see me. And you, too, Lady Queen.”
Juba waved at the titles as if he might brush them away, but Thrasyllus appeared too wide-eyed to have noticed. “So, you’ve come from Alexandria,” Juba said, clearly trying to coax him out of his shock.
Thrasyllus nodded but still said nothing.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Didymus,” Selene said. “Is he well?”
“He is, Your Majesty. Very well indeed.”
“We’re pleased to hear it,” Juba said. “What business do you have?”
Selene saw the young scholar’s eyes flash away from them, toward the guards nearby. That was what was making him nervous, she realized. Was it because he was a threat? “I think I remember you from somewhere,” she said. “Did I meet you in Alexandria?”
Thrasyllus let out his breath as if he was relieved to be talking of something other than what was on his mind. “You did, my lady … my queen. You both did, in fact. During the, ah, fall of the city, when you both came to the Library. I was the one who brought you to Didymus.”
“Of course,” Juba said. “I remember.”
Thrasyllus nodded and smiled gratefully, but once more Selene saw his eyes move toward a servant who was walking quietly from one shadow to another, tending to some of the plants that stood among the pillars and statues lining the walls. Not a threat, she decided. He was nervous because he had expected to talk with them alone.
Selene made a show of making a welcoming gesture with her arms, allowing the movement to subtly give her control over the room. “We are glad you have come, Thrasyllus, and I know we both want to hear more about how things fare in Alexandria, and what news you have from the Library.” She abruptly stood, and she heard Juba immediately do the same. “But let us not sit in chairs to hear of it. I think a walk out of doors would do me well on this beautiful morning.”
Juba started to say something, but she looked over and a message unspoken passed between them. He smiled grandly and stepped down to stand before her, offering up his hand. “A walk outside would do the three of us much good, I’m certain.”
As she took her husband’s hand and began to descend, Selene caught the look of pure relief on the scholar’s face as he realized that Juba had just said they would be alone.
Whatever the young man had to say, she decided, it was going to be interesting.
* * *
The sun was shining even higher in the sky as Thrasyllus took leave of them and moved away.
When he was gone, Selene turned and placed both hands upon the railing of the long palace balcony they’d been walking along. Stretching out below her, the city of Caesarea was a hive of activity: hammering and crashing, yelling and laughing. They had come so far. For a time she had thought she’d actually left everything behind in Cantabria. But it wasn’t true. It had never been true. And now more than ever, the old thoughts were coming back. Vengeance. Death.
And hope, too.
Juba came up behind her and placed his hands gently upon her shoulders. “What are you thinking, my love?”
So many things were swirling in her head that she could not find the words for them. How could she tell him that despite all that they’d tried to leave their old ways behind them she needed this last chance to put her mother’s spirit to rest, to put herself at rest? She’d sworn vengeance for her mother, and she’d left it unfulfilled. And she’d felt her mother, closer than ever as she’d flown above Vellica, using the Shards. If even more power could be pulled from the artifacts, what could they accomplish? Could they ally with a greater power? Could they send Tiberius to his grave? That alone could bring her peace, could it not? And maybe they could do more. Maybe they could break the very walls of death, see those whom they’d lost. Juba’s father. Her parents. Her brothers. And how to convince Juba to help? He’d sworn never to use the Shards again, and she’d tried to do the same—tried, God knew it, and failed.
At last she let out a long sigh. “It’s a lot to think about.”
“It is. I can understand why Didymus sent the news of what he’d discovered in person rather than in writing.”
Selene nodded. “We saw the power of the Shards in Cantabria. Just the beginnings of it.”
“And it was terrible.”
Juba’s voice was shaking with emotion, and Selene turned to see that there were tears at the corners of his eyes. His nightmares, she knew, had never gone away. The sight of his face brought fresh ache to her heart. She nodded at him, knowing she couldn’t deny the truth. “Used in anger. Used to destroy. Yes.” She reached up and gently brushed away the tears. “But you had no choice, my love. We would have died.”
Her husband cupped her hand against his cheek, and he closed his eyes. “It was wrong.”
“But don’t you see? You had no choice.” She swallowed hard, nodding at her own argument as it unfolded in her mind. “But what if you did have a choice, my love? What if you could use that power not to destroy, but to create something new?”
After a moment his eyes opened. They were hurt and angry, but they were longing, too.
Selene half-turned to take in Caesarea with a sweep of her arm. “We just heard about the troubles with the aqueduct, how desperate parts of this city—our city, Juba—are for something as small as clean water. And you can give it to them. You. The Trident. You can use it to give your people what they need.”
Her words seemed to chase away in the air, and there was silence between them for a moment. “That’s not what you really want.”