Soon, the grand palace gates creaked open, and the royal family returned from their journey to the outskirts of Athens, their chariots rolling through the wide stone courtyard.
As they entered, the palace servants gathered to greet them, but it was the warm embrace of their mothers that truly awaited the royal children.
Selene's heart fluttered when she saw Queen Calista, Zephyr's birth mother, rush toward her.
Without hesitation, the queen pulled Selene into her arms, her eyes misty with emotion. "My darling, how I've missed you," she whispered, her voice thick with affection.
Selene smiled, hugging the queen back tightly.
The familiar scent of her mother's perfume—floral and soft—brought a sense of home to her.
It was rare for this warrior queen, who cut down enemies on the battlefield like a beast on a rampage, to show such tenderness, but Selene was her favorite. She likes her more than her own son she gave birth to.
Zephyr, standing a few steps behind, couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment upon witnessing it. He missed her for eight years, but his mother didn't hug him first; his sister instead.
His eyes lingered on his mother, waiting for the embrace that was supposed to be his. But Queen Calista's attention was entirely focused on Selene, asking her how she was, how frail she had become, staying on the hill, etc. He shrugged it off, a small frown flickering across his face.
His mother, noticing his discontent, finally looked toward him. "And you, my son," she said, her voice soft but warm. "You've grown so much, I hardly recognize you." She pulled him into a tight embrace, and Zephyr felt the familiar comfort of her arms around him. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling of earlier disappointment.
Just as he was about to turn his attention elsewhere, Queen Daphneia, Selene's mother and King Pyranthos' first wife, walked over and affectionately wrapped her arms around him. "You've grown into such a fine young man, Zephyr," she said with a proud smile. "Don't think I've forgotten about you, my dear."
Zephyr's lips curled into a smile, feeling the warmth of her words. Though it was a small gesture, it lifted his spirits. After all, Daphneia gave him more attention than Selene.
The scene looked like both mothers exchanged their children with one another.
Later that evening, as they all gathered around the family dining table, the laughs lasted for a while until the conversation suddenly shifted to a subject that Selene dreaded.
"Well, now that you're back, my dear," Queen Daphneia began, her voice low and serious, "it's time to discuss your future. Your wedding."
Selene rolled her eyes, pushing her plate aside. "We just arrived a few hours ago, and you're already preparing to send me off? Really, Mother?"
The queen didn't back down, her tone steady and maternal. "It's not about sending you off, my dear. It's about the future. You're of marriageable age now, and you have a responsibility as a princess. There were a few eligible princes around our kingdom and—"
"I'm already engaged," Selene interrupted, crossing her arms and staring defiantly at the queen. "To Prince Icarus. In my heart, I'm already his wife."
A cold silence settled over the table, and her father's expression darkened. King Pyranthos leaned forward, his voice calm but firm. "Selene, my daughter, you cannot keep clinging to that. It was just something King Damonis and I arranged when you were 5. Moreover, Prince Icarus left this realm long ago. The engagement is void. You know that."
Selene's chest tightened, and she shook her head stubbornly. "No. I don't believe it. Icarus will return. I know he will."
The tension in the room thickened at once, and Queen Daphneia's brows furrowed in displeasure. "Selene," she said, her voice sharp. "You can't live in the past. Icarus is gone. You cannot wait forever for someone who will never return."
Queen Calista, sensing the rising tension, placed a gentle hand on Daphneia's arm. "Calm yourself, dear. If it is fated for them to be together, it will happen. If not, it won't. There's no sense in rushing fate."
But Queen Daphneia wasn't done. "But, Selene is of marriageable age. It's only appropriate that we begin looking for potential suitors, at the very least. She cannot remain in this state of limbo forever. If we wait a few years, we lose those opportunities to establish relations with kingdoms like Kemet, Kush, Kievan Rus…"
Selene's heart sank, and she pushed her chair back, standing up from the table. "I'm not interested in anyone else. Icarus is the only one for me."
Zephyr, who had been quietly listening to the exchange, looked at his sister with a mixture of concern and sympathy. He knew her heart was set on Icarus, and during the past 8 years, Selene kept on thinking about the person she had never met in her whole life. He doesn't understand what's going through her head, but he knows how stubborn his sister is, and the fact that he had no say in the family. Hence, he became a silent spectator.
Meanwhile, Queen Calista watched the scene unfold, her expression softening with understanding. "We all want the best for you, Selene," she said gently, siding with neither.
Selene didn't respond. Instead, she simply turned and left the room without even finishing her dinner, her footsteps echoing through the empty hall.
The soft clink of silverware against porcelain plates had subsided, leaving an uneasy silence hanging over the dining table.
Queen Daphneia, who had been speaking less and less since their daughter left the room, turned to King Pyranthos, her brow furrowed with concern.
"Why are you so quiet, Your Majesty?" she asked, her voice tinged with frustration and worry. "You have been brooding since the discussion about Selene."
King Pyranthos shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He looked at his wife, then down at his hands, unsure of how to express his thoughts. But in the end, he cleared his throat, his tone slightly nervous.
"We don't need to talk about Selene's future right now," he replied quietly, ending the discussion right away. "She just returned. Give her some time to figure out her thoughts."
Queen Daphneia raised an eyebrow but said nothing, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Later that night, after the household had quieted, Selene sat alone by the window in her chambers. T
he moonlight spilled in, casting a silvery glow across the room, illuminating the canvas in front of her.
Her thoughts wandered to him—the prince who would always be in her heart, the one she still believed would return.
With a soft sigh, she picked up her brush and began to paint.
Each stroke on the canvas seemed to bring him to life, her imagination filling in the details.
She painted him as she expected him to be, based on his eleven-year-old portrait she had on the side.
In the end, the result turned out to be the painting of a man with blue eyes like hers, tall, broad-shouldered, with shoulder-length blonde hair that shone in the light like woven gold.
Putting the brush down, she smiled to herself. "You're so handsome," she whispered, the words slipping out in an almost inaudible sigh. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she wondered what he was doing at this very moment. Where was he? What had he become in the years that had passed? Was he thinking of her too?
At the same time, far across the realms, beyond the mortal world and the safety of Athens, in the grassy expanse of Vanaheim, another scene unfolded under the cruel chill of an icy sky.
A young man stood at the center of the battlefield, his broad shoulders squared against the looming threats around him.
His face was set with determination, his grip firm on the hilt of a weapon. He looked strikingly similar to the figure Selene had painted, only far more hardened by the trials of war.
The young prince's golden hair whipped in the biting wind, his eyes narrowed as he faced an army of towering ice giants that moved with thunderous steps. With a tight grip on his bow handle, he conjures an arrow enveloped by sparks of lightning.
The arrow shot from the bow toward the dark clouds looming over the region. At once, strikes of lightning descended, striking a bunch of icy giants. The remaining, however, continued to charge at him.
"That's a neat trick, Icarus." A voice commented from nearby. "But, it is too boring. Check out mine."
As Icarus turned his head, Mjölnir, the hammer of Thor, swung with tremendous force, smashing onto the Earth and releasing lightning strikes from the ground instead, striking the remaining icy giants and killing them in an instant.
"Thor…" Icarus smiled.