Page 30 of A Crown of Hopes and Sorrows

“Are you feeling jealous, golden boy?”

I scoffed. “No. Because there’s nothing to be jealous of.” Hyacinth hummed his response, his mouth pinching at a smile. The fire crackled beyond us, and I ran my thumb along the bumpy spine of my glass.

“Apollo?” Hyacinth whispered, his voice feather-gentle.

“Hmm?”

“You know…” He paused and that v-shaped dimple formed between his brows as he drew in a long breath. “You mean… so much to me. This with Zephyrus is just a game. You know that, don’t you?”

I sighed. “Yes. I do.”

Hyacinth fiddled with a ring on his hand and then shifted towards me. “By the way, I wrote a poem for you… in your folio.”

My lips parted. “When?”

“Last night. While you were asleep.” He grinned. “Does it bother you that I got into your bag?”

I considered that. “If it was anyone else, it would. But no. Anything of mine is yours.”

Hyacinth smiled again, the most beautiful expression in the world. “Save it to read when you need a reminder of how I feel about you.”

My heart picked up at his words, sending a spark of warmth into my stomach. Sometimes the depth of my feelings for him would rush over me like that, stealing my breath.

“Hyacinth,” Zephyrus called as he walked in with Notus at his side. “I hope you’ll join us for a drink or two.” He winked. “Or maybe more, if I’m at all convincing.”

Hyacinth released a quiet sigh, his shoulders firming, and bobbed his head to me before walking across the room, joining them. Zephyrus shifted towards him, leaning in closer, his posture taking on a possessive angle. My fingers curled into my palm until my nails bit into my flesh, and I took a long drink of my wine.

It was a game. That’s all. I could make it through the week.

Hyacinth laughed at something Zephyrus said, the hazel of his eyes sparkling honey-gold in the firelight.

I scowled and tossed my goblet back again, swallowing the last of my drink. That was unfortunate.

Boreas ambled over, joining me, his bushy eyebrows inching up his forehead. “So, tell me, Apollo, how does the Golden One fare?”

I shrugged. If there was anyone I didn’t want to think about more than Zephyrus, it was probably Zeus. “He’s as well as he ever is, I suppose.”

Boreas studied me for a moment, his wings stretching and trembling the fabric of his ivory coat, which brushed against the floor. “I hear rumors that once you ascend, he will hold power over all the elements.”

“That’s the funny thing about rumors.” A nymph with sage eyes walked up, offering more wine. I held out my goblet, and she refilled it. “They are often variations on the truth.”

Boreas tapped his finger against his glass and took a sip. “Do you not intend to ascend? That’s another rumor I’ve heard.”

“You seem well informed.”

“You know how gossip carries on the wind.”

A hound ran in, skittering its claws over the stone floor before curling up at Boreas’ feet. He bent and scruffed his fingers over its head. I needed to be careful about what I said. Hyacinth wanted us to get information about where the wind gods and their connections might fall in a war between Jupiter and Zeus. But I didn’t want to give away everything I knew in case they fell on the wrong side of things. “Well,” I said, “perhaps I wonder what benefit my father would find in me ascending when he already has such vast holdings?”

“Your words belie your reputation as a devoted son.”

I laughed. “If that’s my reputation, it surprises me.”

“Does it?”

“Mmm.” I finished the second glass of wine, the liquid warming my blood. “I’ve scarcely devoted myself to Zeus. In fact, he sent me to spend time with Prince Hyacinth”—I gestured to him where he stood listening to Zephyrus, who had taken a step closer—“hoping his devotion and obedience would rub off on me.”

Boreas nodded. “And has it?”