Attention: mild swearing ahead Do you remember that Penny had a son whom Alexander and Serkon tried to spare from the characteristic fate of Amazon men? Yes? Onward, then! Palace of Dekanos, later at night. The light of the braziers danced on the walls. The vibrant colors of the murals mocked Hippolyta’s fury. In lack of a door, she slammed the palm of her hand against the wooden frame. Serkon flinched at the noise. Lyta wagged her finger at him. “How dare you! How dare you recognize a slave’s son as your own and look at mother the entire time during the announcement!” “Lyta… You should be happy for me. What’s your matter?” “You humiliated mother in front of everyone. And you have the audacity to pretend it wasn’t intentional?” The princess planted herself in front of him, arms on the hips. Serkon’s shoulders slouched. Despite his best attempt at a long, deep gaze, he seemed to look through her. “Goooods, I didn’t humiliate her. The news were delicate, I just wanted to make sure that she's alright.” Lyta frowned. “You stared, dad! How did it occur to you that that would be a good idea? Great Goddess, in the end, everyone was staring! You were talking of loving your new son. And all of them remembered that she refused to spare her son. They believed you were showing her up. Damn, I believed that, too!” Serkon shrugged. “Well… that's her fault. One doesn't just kill one's own child, that’s crazy.” He slurred a bit. “Ugh, still raking up old stories when you're drunk? Shit, dad, wine doesn't excuse you for being such a dick!” “Pha, it’s a wine festival. People are supposed to have fun and get drunk. Why aren’t you?” “I sobered up the moment you declared you had a bastard. Do you want to know where mother is right now?” For a moment, Hippolyta waited for a response. None came. “She’s with your damn wife, comforting her since you didn’t consider telling her in advance.” Serkon cocked his head. “Well, that’s nice of her. I guess.” “Yes, it bloody is!” She gasped for breath. “Mother is taking care of what should be your business! For the Goddess’ sake, dad, she came here hoping your invitation was a public offer of reconciliation. It would have taken long enough, two suns after Keleos’ birth! Instead, you stabbed her from behind and twisted the dagger! And all the while, you didn’t even realize she bled!” “Oh, my. Now you’re getting overly dramatic, dear.” “Dramatic? I’m not the one being dramatic. Why did you arrange a whole-ass feast to recognize an illegitimate son? You could have just told the council, or sent a messenger like everyone else does.” Suddenly, Lyta’s shoulders slumped. Her eyes hung on his face. “Why? Why did you recognize him but not the others before?” “Maybe I did want to show that one can treat their children kinder than your mother did. Maybe I like the woman who bore that one. Maybe I just want to be a good father.” Slowly, Lyta shook her head. “A good father, only now? You would have been a good father if you hadn’t established him as a danger to your childrens’ claim to the throne. That is what should matter to you first and foremost. I can’t believe I’m standing here telling you that.” “He doesn’t hold any right to become king.” “Since when has that ever stopped a power-hungry schemer? If he isn’t to revolt, anyone else could do it in his name now that he’s part of the royal bloodline! A bastard should never be allowed to wear the ring of Dekanos. He might turn on your other sons one day.” “He’s not the only one who could turn against them.” “Dad, you know I would never.” She watched his eyes wander to her right hand, where her own ring was. She rubbed her forehead. “Goddess, you are unnerving me with your drunken stare. I’m not in the mood for that shit. Just tell me whatever goes on in that head of yours and then go sleep it off.” “You’re jealous.” “I'm- What now?” Finally, his gaze lifted toward her eyes. “You’re jealous, because he’s the same as you.” “The same as- how? How in the world would he be the same as me when he’s illegi-” From one moment to another, Lyta paled. It felt like she had just received a punch to her stomach. Then, her head turned red. “The plague on you! If it’s like that, I don’t even want this cursed ring!” Forcefully, she pulled at the golden circlet around her finger. It got stuck at the middle joint. She pulled with even more force. Tears formed in her eyes. “How dare you! How dare you insult your own daughter. Me, who is princess of two tribes, queen-to-be of one. My mother’s blood alone is nobler than yours will ever be.” Finally, the ring slid off. “Here, keep it! I don't need your name, or your ancestors. The legacy of Santrake will be just fine, thank you.” With one smooth throw, the ring flew over the balustrade. Serkon’s eyes followed the golden flash. “You’re angry. I’ll leave so you can calm down.” How could he not raise his voice against her when she did, slandering his forefathers? “No!,” she screamed after him. “You can’t go, I wanted to leave first!” But he didn’t stop. “I hate you!” Slow, slugging steps carried him away. Through the doorway, to where those smug kings and their followers were feasting and laughing about her mother. About a woman better than all of them combined. “Aaaaaaaarrgh!” Hippolyta hit the air with her fists. Fiercely, she swung herself onto the balustrade and looked down, where the ring must lie. So in your eyes, I’m just another bastard? A danger to the throne? If you put up with gaining a son to humiliate my mother and me, you deserve to lose a daughter over it. She rammed her heel into the balustrade. The pain was welcome, fresh and maddening. She thought of her mother’s face as her best friend had betrayed her in public. How her own father had labeled her, Hippolyta, illegitimate. Unasked for. Child of no one until he, the mighty king, had deigned to allow her entrance into his heritage. “Me, a bastard? Downfall and Pride, I will show you bastard.” The whispered words faded away in the nightly silence. Only a group of crickets defied the taut atmosphere with their rhythmic chirping.
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May 2023
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