The Goddess Test (Goddess Test #1)(48)
Author: Aimee Carter

I raised my eyebrows. “And you do?”

He ignored me. “Nor do you have the power to go into the Underworld and question Xander. Fortunately, that will not be necessary. I already know what happened.”

I cuddled Pogo to my chest, finding comfort in his warm body. I didn’t want to ask, dreading the possibility of Theo’s guilt, so I didn’t. Henry couldn’t search through my closet forever, and he would tell me sooner or later whether I wanted to hear it or not.

A minute passed, and finally he set a clean pair of jeans and a white sweater on the bed. “Theo is telling the truth, and therefore he will not be prosecuted. Your punishment for Ava is appropriate, and there is no need for me to intervene. I will instruct the others to ensure she follows your restrictions, and that will be the end of it.”

I nodded numbly. Setting Pogo down, I took my clothes to change behind the screen in the corner. There wasn’t anything else to talk about, and the weight of my judgment fell heavily on my shoulders. Had I done the right thing, or had I reacted in anger? And how would Ava, who was already so alone in this house, survive being cut off from me and Theo as well?

“I will see you down at breakfast then,” said Henry, though the thought of food was enough to make me nauseous.

I heard the door open, but not close. Still distracted by the thought of what I’d done to my only real friend in Eden Manor, I buttoned my jeans and stepped out from behind the screen, only to see Henry still standing there. His shoulders were weighed down by some invisible load, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, looking so similar to how he had in Persephone’s room that a jolt of fear ran through me. But his eyes weren’t deadened as they had been so many weeks ago—he was weary, but he hadn’t given up again.

“What you did today is never easy,” he said, “but it was necessary. I cannot imagine how difficult it was for you, especially considering Ava is your friend.”

“Was my friend,” I whispered, but I wasn’t sure he heard me.

“Do not feel guilty for it. Her actions are not yours. I do not regret inviting her here, knowing she has, up until now, been good company. Your safety and happiness are what matter most to me.”

I nodded, and he left. Glancing at the reflection he’d given me, which now sat on my nightstand, I felt even guiltier than before. No matter how at fault she was, if I couldn’t even protect Ava, how was I possibly going to do the same for Henry?

Even if this hadn’t been a test, I still had several to go. The wrong word, the wrong thought, the wrong action and this would all be over. Henry’s life was no less fragile than Xander’s or even my mother’s, and I felt myself start to crack under the burden of fighting for him on my own. Henry stood on the sidelines because I had dragged him there, forcing him to pay attention, but I couldn’t make him care. I was the only one fighting for him, and I was no longer sure I was up for the challenge.

CHAPTER 15

POISON

One unfortunate side effect of Ava’s banishment and the risk that she might try to take revenge was the towering guard that was now with me everywhere I went. Measuring in at six and a half feet tall, he was the large blond I’d spotted at the ball back in September. He walked with a limp that didn’t seem to affect his speed, and I was too afraid to ask how he’d gotten it. While he didn’t say much, Calliope called him Nicholas, and he was nice enough for a guy who could easily kill me with his pinkie.

I was never alone anymore. When Nicholas wasn’t with me, Henry was, and he had more guards stationed outside my room while I slept. They were only for show; after Christmas Eve, Henry spent every night with me, a complete turnaround from how he’d acted before Christmas. It was as if I’d broken through an invisible barrier, and now instead of avoiding me and hoping I’d keep myself alive, he seemed determined to do the job for me.

Nothing ever happened in the evening except for the occasional kiss or brush of his hand in my hair, and he never pushed for anything more. I was simply grateful for the company, and the more I saw of his human side, the more I hoped I was enough to make him want to stay.

It wasn’t a charade. I wasn’t returning his kisses to fool him into thinking I cared about him or because I pitied him. I was falling for him, a little more every day, even though a very large part of me knew that this was a bad idea. There was no guarantee I would pass and nothing that gave me reason to think that any kind of relationship would last more than the remainder of winter. But if I did somehow miraculously succeed, Henry would need a reason to stay, and I would be that reason. So for the first time in my life, I shoved aside the worries and the doubts, and I let my barriers down. The afternoons were a burden now, a time I had to endure in order to get to the evenings we spent together, and every time I saw him, no matter how short a time he’d been away, my heart raced. Now that I had survived Christmas, I dared to hope, and with that hope came possibilities.

When I woke up before him, I watched him sleep as the early morning rays filtered through the curtains, and I tried to picture waking up to him like this for the rest of eternity. It was strange to think that if the impossible happened and I managed to pass the tests without getting myself killed, he would be my future. My entire future, with no threat of death lurking around the corner any longer. My husband.

The word was foreign to my thoughts, let alone on my tongue, and I was sure I’d never get used to the idea. But as much as I resisted it—I was too young, too alone, too not even remotely ready for that sort of life—I began to see that it wouldn’t be so bad. Henry was broken, but so was I, and spending my life with him was hardly the hell I’d thought it would be in the weeks after he’d saved Ava’s life. And in time, maybe we would be able to fix each other. I could give him what he needed—a friend, a wife, a queen—and in return he could be my family.

As the days until spring grew fewer, my dreams with my mother grew more solemn. Every moment was precious, but most of the time I had no idea what to say. We walked hand in hand through the park most days, and she led the conversation as we talked about everything and nothing. She told me every night how proud she was of me, how much she loved me, and how badly she wanted for me to be happy without her, to not need her to continue as Henry needed me, but the most I could give her in return was a tight nod and a squeeze of the hand. The things I couldn’t say gathered in my throat, forming a knot I could never swallow. As the days passed and my chances to tell her dwindled, I knew I would have to force them out eventually, but not yet. As long as there was a tomorrow in the manor, I could pretend there was still hope she would never have to die.