Pherenike - Chapter 44

Even the exaggerated small fragments were proven to have originated from the ‘evil wife’ Axiothea. The act of a son against a father, a prince against a king, was tantamount to turning a dynasty upside down.

An act so appalling even the gods would shudder. However, dismissing the villainous woman from the household was a simple matter. A queen who attempted to kill her husband was, after all, the king’s wife. It was treated as merely that.

Despite incomplete evidence, the popular opinion was that the wrongful persecution of the innocent second prince stemmed from ‘their’ envy and hatred towards the Council — the traditional families who contributed to the founding of Evdokia.

‘They’ typically referred to the emerging nobles who operated the Antehe Council under King Epicydes’ protection, alongside famous freemen who leech off them, merchants disguising their self-interest as reforms, usupers feeding off others’ blood, radicalists tearing parchments, and unbelievers.

King Epicydes was excessively impartial even in the face of his kin, which momentarily obscured the truth. However, a king’s ignorance of familial trivialities always seemed like a good thing.

Everyone thought it sounded like a great idea upon hearing it the first time.

The king treated his son as if he were not his son. Even in the face of death, he treated his son as a complete stranger. In the end, the prince was innocent and the king, who drove his innocent son to death, was also innocent. The prince’s mother was not innocent, and so were those who supported the king’s side against the prince. Both sides were thus settled.

There were always those who had to be innocent, and those who didn’t necessarily need to be so innocent. For the sake of the family’s interest, honor, survival, and prosperity.

A kind of negotiation took place between Actor and the Thasos family. They divided items that must be painted white for everyone and those that could be colored a bit.

Since then, their paths had been parallel.

Actor’s royal authority was not absolute, and the Thasos family was still recovering from the severe wounds inflicted to them at the Antehe Council. No one knew which side might collapse, but for now, it was peaceful like standing on thin ice under a late winter sun.

Actor and the Thasos family ran parallel lines, twisted to the left and right. They turned a blind eye to each other while always watching each other’s back.

So they waited for a better moment. The collapse of goodwill would come suddenly one day.

Actor’s subjects thought he was too lenient towards his only half-brother, too forgiving of his many ‘sins.’ They complained he was showing excessive mercy to a sinner.

Of course, Actor initially rescued Deucalion by ‘covering up’. From the crimes he never committed, from the quagmire their father had created by favoring one son over another. From then on, he left it to the Thasos family to handle.

There’s no reason to call the pardon of an unpardonable sin ‘mercy.’ The Thasos family hadn’t completely fallen even back then, and Actor was never in a position to unilaterally bestow favors.

He initially traded with Pherenike for Deucalion but also made a double deal with the Thasos family. Since that day, the Thasos family had let go of many things related to Actor. They had let go opportunities to bite whenever possible.

Rather, it seemed like great mercy rather than having Actor wield the sword. But is there any reason to be moved by the mercy of a brother who spared his own? She had already paid the price. Actor was merely returning what he had received in value.

Pherenike stood at an angle at the window. Her harsh yet unyielding gaze found Deucalion in the garden. Luminous purple eyes, like a nymph’s, flickered with a sinister affection for a brief moment.

He had come to Lykke after a long absence. To celebrate his ‘nephew’s’ conception.

In front of Deucalion stood Actor, his back turned to her. Thus, her ‘husbands’ stood together.

Yes, Pherenike chuckled dryly. Both men standing there had dared to vow before the goddess to become her husbands and had spent nine nights with her. Ridiculously, they were both her husbands.

But none, not even Deucalion Paetusa standing there, was the real one. Her true husband had died there, long ago.

Suddenly, the taste of metal lingered on her tongue. The blood flowing from her burst lip seemed like the clots that had poured from his neck. The hand to which Pherenike had slipped the ring had rolled to her feet like an object.

That momentary sensation repeated endlessly somewhere in her head.

The feeling of picking up his hand, falling over, crawling on the ground. The moment when Actor’s dogs mocked them.

She still lived on that day. She died that day. Thus, she was reborn and died every day. Her heart pounded as if it were crawling up to her throat, as if it would stop after beating so fiercely.

[“Deucalion.”]

Pherenike called out to him silently. The calm heartbeat from Deucalion covered the wild beats of her own heart.

Yet, the silence of that day, when his heartbeat was not heard, remained more vivid.