Psyche

Chapter Fourteen

Thinking was bad. Thinking was the enemy. To defeat my enemies, my father taught me that I had to keep both my mind and body busy. A soft commander does little. An ignorant one lives little.

Thinking was bad. I had revealed my nature to a human (even considering her new supernatural status). I had broken the promise I made my father. I had vowed never to break it. What would he think of me now?

Thinking was getting me in trouble. Thinking was leading me to thinking about Iris, and Mama, and my sisters. I didn't want to think about them. And that, in it of itself, was disrespectful. I was tired to disrespecting Mama, so I just trained, and concentrated on the blade, how the sun flashed over its sharp sides. I trained with every single weapon I had, cleaned the house, and restocked my medical kit (August had panicked and ripped open every single thing in an attempt to aide me-humans . . .), and made my bed. Twice.

Finally, sitting down on the porch outside, my chest bare, sitting in only jeans, staring out at the woods around me, I couldn't help but think about August Park. What was she doing right now? Was she safe? Confused?

Why did I give a damn?

Phoenyx, Father would say, a gentleman does not GIVE A DAMN about something. He is to give his full attention to a lady. You are to be courteous, pleasant, and sympathetic.

Yeah, Father, if I want to get laid . . . never . . .

Not that I wanted to get laid. I didn't want to sleep with anybody. It didn't just felt weird . . . it felt . . . disgusting . . .

Paradox, considering what I should have been doing all these years should have been fathering an army of bastard children to get back at the Cleaners. But I couldn't do that to her.

Because I had to think, I thought about the night we had to leave my father behind to die.

***

We had been to the countryside for the past month, working in the smaller villages. Royal presence among all the people was key to serving them, assuring their needs were met. As the only son, my father tromped me around, tried to get me out there so I got my exposure. I understood why, but it wore me down, and all I had to support me was Iris.

Our carriage was lulling me to sleep-a dangerous choice in the open. Iris sat across from me, white dress, and dark hair falling from in ringlets, half pulled up. One curl sat just over her cheek. This I stared at, leaning heavily against the carriage side. I felt so tired.

"Phoenyx." She sighed, moving to sit next to me. Iris smoothed the hair from my eyes, rubbing my cheek, "Why do you not just tell Father you can't it take anymore? He'd understand."

"He can do it. I can do it." I answered, swallowing. In the past two weeks, I had developed a pounding headache, and right then it throbbed painfully.

"Phoenyx . . ." She gently pulled me from against the hard carriage side (I'd used it to keep myself awake) and laid my head in her lap, "You're going to collapse from exhaustion. For Goddess's sake, rest."

"I . . . can't." I sighed. Iris took such good care of me. I protected her and my sisters. She protected me. I needed her.

After only a moment it seemed I was jolted awake by the carriage stopping. Our guard shouted to me, "Meum Principem! Labores! The village burns!"

I was out of the carriage, drawing my luminae before he even finished 'Meum'. A short distance away, the village we had been headed to, called Lapis, reached with smoke and fire towards the sky, praying to its gods. They would not answer. The power of the gods died with the people.