Chapter 130: [130] The Stolen Spring
"Is the pain worse?" Margot asked, mistaking Calypso’s scowl for physical discomfort.
"No, I’m just dreading tomorrow’s lunch. Duke Haverford is fifty if he’s a day, and his breath smells like pickled herring if Selene is right."
Margot laughed softly. "He’s only thirty-five, and I’ve heard he’s quite handsome."
"Handsome or hideous, I’m not interested." Calypso turned from the window. "How much longer can we reasonably delay without causing political problems?"
"Not much longer. Your uncle is losing patience. The alliance with House Haverford would secure additional guards for the southern passes."
Calypso flopped dramatically onto her bed, spreading her arms wide. "Politics. Even in a narrative gate, I can’t escape them."
Margot settled beside her, tucking her legs beneath her. "Remembering this is just our rendition of a story is... disturbing."
"Isn’t it?" Calypso rolled onto her side to face Margot. "But it also means there’s a way out. Stories have endings. We just need to reach ours."
"By finding the Heart of Winter," Margot said.
"Exactly." Calypso sat up, excitement returning. "And I think I might know what it is. What if the Heart of Winter isn’t a magical artifact they’re guarding, but something—or someone—they took? Its absence is what’s freezing this world."
Margot’s brow furrowed. "Like in the old myths? The Stolen Spring?"
"Yes! Exactly like that." Calypso bounced slightly on the bed. "In my... in Greece, we have a similar story. A goddess of spring was taken to the underworld, and her mother’s grief caused winter to cover the earth."