Chapter 4

The next morning, three priests from the Temple of Hera arrived at the queen's bedchamber. The eldest carried a bronze tray holding purification water, sea salt, and a plain gray robe without a single adornment.

"The queen was detained in Thrace for three years. Upon her return, she was publicly slandered by an enemy envoy. To preserve the authority of the Argive throne, she must enter the temple and complete an eight-day purification rite."

Althea did not look at the tray. Her gaze went to Lysandros, who stood by the door. "This was your decision?"

"Just a standard purification," he said. "Once you're willing to explain everything, I'll come for you myself."

He spoke as though he were offering her one last chance. Althea removed the golden laurel crown from her head and set it gently on the tray. Lysandros's brow darkened. "I did not order the crown taken back."

"Gold jewelry is forbidden in the purification chamber," she answered calmly. "I am simply following temple rules."

He studied her for a long time. In the end, he did not stop her.

The western courtyard of the Temple of Hera never saw daylight. Althea was confined to a damp stone cell, guarded day and night by two priestesses outside the door. At first, clean water and healing herbs were delivered. From the third day on, the water came mixed with grit, and the herbs were replaced with moldy, withered leaves.

There was no calming incense at night. The moment she closed her eyes, the phantom sound of chains dragging across stone would come crashing in. The old wound on her knee swelled repeatedly from the damp. The coarse gray robe chafed against the injury, sending needles of pain that never let up.

On the fifth day, Lysandros came to visit. Stepping into the cell, he found Althea propped against the stone wall, redressing her wounds on her own. Blackened, dried herbs covered the wound, and nothing else remained to use. His gaze settled on her drawn, ashen face. "The temple servants say you've refused to eat."

"The flatbread they sent was already sour and spoiled."

Lysandros picked up the clay plate and brought it to his nose. His brows drew tight. "I never ordered them to mistreat you."

Althea said nothing. She had heard those words too many times. He had not ordered the Thracians to torment her. He had not told the temple to withhold medicine. He simply handed her over to others, time after time, and took for granted that everyone would treat her as gently as he imagined.

"I'll order the food and medicine replaced," he said. After he left, the provisions did improve. That lasted two days.

On the seventh day, the Queen Mother Eurydice returned from Delphi. She did not enter the cell directly. Instead, she erupted in fury in the main hall of the temple.

"Althea has only just returned from Thrace, and you dare lock her away in a place like this?"

She rebuked the priests sharply, then turned a cold face toward Lysandros. "If your father were still alive and saw you treating a newly crowned queen this way, he would have taken the whip to you himself."

Ianthe moved to offer an explanation. A single icy glance from Eurydice stopped her cold. "I am speaking with the king. A priestess has no standing to interrupt."

The color bled from Ianthe's face. She lowered her head and retreated to the side.

Althea stood at the edge of the hall, and a faint tremor stirred in her chest. After Myrrhine's death, the Queen Mother Eurydice had taken her into the palace and looked after her for half a year, teaching her how to hold a cup at formal banquets. She had once stepped in when noblewomen mocked Althea for having no mother. After those six months, Eurydice had sent her to Philocles's care on the grounds that the palace was no place to raise a fugitive priestess's daughter. Philocles had then taken her in as his foster daughter, training her to ride, wield a spear, and command troops. For as long as she could remember, Althea had believed the Queen Mother truly cared for her.

Eurydice stepped forward and took her hand. "Come with me, child."

In the private chamber, only the two of them remained. The Queen Mother poured warm water for her herself. Her tone softened. "Lysandros is still young. In everything he does, he puts the throne and the Council first. Don't push back so hard against him."

Althea gripped the clay cup but did not drink.

"I hear Myrrhine left you a Thunderbolt Seal." Eurydice arrived at her true purpose. "The seal can summon the Sacred Oak Guard, can it not?"

Althea met her eyes. Eurydice offered a thin smile. "The Alliance of Ares is massing its forces in the north. Argos is in desperate need of soldiers. You are the queen now. Your mother's people should naturally pledge loyalty to the crown."

"They don't belong to any city-state's army."

"An armed force that answers to no city-state registry and serves only a private seal is, by the Laws of Hera, equivalent to an insurgency."

The Queen Mother's tone remained gentle. "Give the seal to me. I will arrange for the Sacred Oak Guard to swear fealty to Lysandros. With this service to the crown, the Sacred Flame seal will find its way back to you sooner or later."

Althea slowly drew her hand back. "It is the only thing my mother left me."

The smile faded from Eurydice's face. "Myrrhine was nothing more than a fugitive priestess from Dodona. If Philocles hadn't taken you in, you would not even have an Argive name. Her token is being lawfully requisitioned by the court. You should consider that an honor."

Althea watched her in silence. Every embrace, lesson, and act of protection from those early days had come at a price. Althea carried the blood of Zeus. Her mother had commanded a guard force beyond the reach of the throne. Everyone who had ever shown her kindness had long since calculated what they could extract from her.

"What my mother left me, I will not surrender to any king."

Eurydice was silent for a moment. Then she reached over and rang the bronze bell. Two priests hurried in. "The queen refuses to place her unregistered armed force under city-state authority. Escort her to the underground purification chamber. She may be released when she is willing to swear an oath before the River Styx."

Althea was led down the stone steps. The underground purification chamber lay in the deepest part of the temple, and the sound of running water seeped endlessly through the walls behind her. Before the iron door was locked, she caught a glimpse of an old drainage channel at the base of the wall, hidden beneath moss.

Only one day remained in the eight-day purification. She finally understood why Damaris had chosen the escape point beneath the Temple of Hera.