Pherenike - Chapter 77

As the seasons changed above all things and time passed, Leuce grew to even love the terrifying falcons her father raised.

Actor gave his most cherished falcon to his small Princess who couldn’t even hold it on her arm. Thus, Leuce had the world’s most skilled falcon, a black and ugly cat, a large yellow wild dog.

One day, while riding in a carriage, she saw a deer about to be sacrificed for a ritual in the field and stubbornly insisted on bringing it home. So the deer was added to her collection.

In truth, another deer was sacrificed in its place, but Leuce was unaware. The unseen events of the world often hold no meaning. Leuce was happy to have saved the deer, and Actor was content with that.

He also gifted Leuce, who was barely able to run on her own, the finest Bahama mountain horse among the tribute received.

Gifts for the Princess were endless. She learned that once she set her eyes on something, her father would engrave her name on it, and it belonged to the Princess.

The day the Princess learned the word ‘inherit,’ she declared she would inherit the palace lions of the garden in advance.

Actor probably hadn’t remembered those lions existed until he heard that declaration. Those magnificent foreign creatures, left as a legacy by Epicydes, were now quite aged.

They remained motionless under the shade on hot days and climbed onto sunlit rocks when cool breezes began, not coming down for hours. The female lion, burying her head in the male’s mane scattered by the autumn wind, would lazily blink.

Pherenike knew the death of these lions was nearing.

They no longer bore cubs. Their offspring had all left them. Pherenike thought of Atalanta’s parents. One left and one died, leaving behind a pair of lions, a male and a female, to take their place.

Their youth had passed. They were once more beautiful than any older lions, but now they are much older. Their time had stopped once they crossed the river, but the time for these lions still flowed on.

“Lion, oh lion.”

The excited voice of a young child could not reach the old and tired lions. Yet, Leuce, just as with her indifferent mother, did not let anyone’s disinterest dampen her spirits in doing what she enjoyed.

Actor looked at the back of his daughter’s head and suddenly said.

“Her liking for lions must come from you.”

“…”

“Don’t you want to see your lion?”

“It’s been so long, I hardly remember.”

“It’s still alive, I heard.”

“…”

“You don’t have to look at me like that. I didn’t sneak into Paetusa. I asked Deucalion directly.”

“So, you bothered Lord Paetusa for nothing.”

Pherenike turned her head impassively. By now, Leuce had run along the fence of the lions, moving away from them. Ino and the maids were struggling to catch up behind her.

Unaware that they were all trying to catch her, Leuce burst into laughter, thrilled that people were running with her.

Actor, out of habit, took a half step towards his daughter, then sighed lightly at her laughter and retreated his step.

Then, belatedly, he said.

“All the effort was for him to say ‘It’s alive.'”

Meaning, he hadn’t troubled Deucalion too much.

Pherenike gave him a peculiar look and then said nothing. Her gaze returned to the lions.

Actor said indifferently, “We could bring that female lion to Lykke.”

“The lion is in Paetusa, but Your Majesty grant permission?”

Her tone, while still monotonous but poked fun at someone who was using something that belonged to someone else so casually. But it was slightly more polite than usual.

‘Your Majesty.’ Actor mimicked her pronunciation softly and then slightly lifted the corner of his mouth.

“After all, it was originally your lion.”

“That was a very long time ago. And it’s not ‘it’.”

“…Ah.”

“Now, that lion belongs to Cal.”

Pherenike deliberately used Deucalion’s childhood nickname, making it sound ironic compared to how she distantly used to address him as ‘Lord Paetusa’.

For a moment, Actor’s lips twisted slightly. Although his face always seemed impervious to any assault, finding a crack in his facade was always disconcertingly easy for her.

All over just a name.

Pherenike began to walk away, pretending not to see that brief fissure. As she turned, her face contorted with emotion.

As if she had the right to give away something of Deucalion’s, let alone Atalanta, which was not just an object.

Did he think she didn’t keep that animal all this time because of no permission? What right did she have, after all?

It was she who had let it slip from her grasp. Instead of returning to the beloved land, that one and only lion had said it would stay in Evdokia, waiting for her.

Since parting with Atalanta at nineteen, Pherenike had never seen that lion again. Now, that female lion must have aged as much as the lions in that enclosure, bearing the same years upon it.

Those years of the lion were solely Deucalion’s to claim.