The echo of the temple doors slamming shut reverberated through the chamber. Aphrodite stood frozen in place, her tear-streaked face rigid, her chest heaving as though each breath was an effort. The silence left in Zafron's wake was deafening, broken only by the faint rustling of her silken robes as she turned abruptly to leave.
"I can't do this," she muttered under her breath, striding toward the ornate archway at the far end of the temple. Her heels clicked against the marble, each step sharp and deliberate.
"Running away again?" Eros's voice cut through the silence, infuriatingly calm and laden with mockery.
Aphrodite froze mid-step, her hands curling into fists at her sides. Slowly, she turned to face him, her expression a mask of barely restrained fury. "You have no idea what you've just done," she said through gritted teeth.
Eros leaned casually against one of the temple's grand columns. His expression was infuriatingly nonchalant, as though the fiery storm that had just erupted was nothing more than an afternoon squall. "I did what was necessary. He deserved to know."
"Necessary?" she repeated, her voice rising. "You call this necessary? Look at what you've done, Eros! He hates us—he hates me! You've burdened him with truths he wasn't ready for!"
"He was ready," Eros said, shrugging as if the weight of her words barely touched him. "Or at least, he needed to be. You think coddling him was going to help? Pretending everything's fine? Zafron isn't a child, Aphrodite. He's stronger than you give him credit for."
Aphrodite's nostrils flared as she took a step closer to him, her voice dropping into a dangerous tone. "Stronger? Did you see the way he looked at me? The hatred in his eyes? Do you think that's strength? You've shattered any chance we had of guiding him, Eros. Do you even care?"
Eros pushed off the column, his expression hardening. "Don't put this on me. You're the one who built this house of lies. I just opened the windows and let in some light."
"Oh, spare me your metaphors," Aphrodite snapped, her hands gesturing sharply. "You think this is about lies? Do you have any idea what it feels like to see the disgust on your own descendant's face? To know that everything I've done, every decision I've made, has led to this moment?" Her voice cracked, but she steadied herself, her tone firm once more. "I didn't ask for your interference, Eros. This was my burden to carry."
"And you were doing such a great job with it," Eros shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Keeping him in the dark, pretending everything was fine—it was only a matter of time before the truth came out. At least now, he knows what he's up against."
"What he's up against?" Aphrodite repeated, incredulous. "You think that was some act of mercy? You've handed him pain, Eros. Pain, anger, and confusion. And for what? To satisfy your self-righteous need to meddle?"
Eros folded his arms across his chest, his gaze steady. "He needed to hear it from us. From you. Not from some other source, not when it was too late to prepare. You can hate me all you want, but deep down, you know I'm right."
"Right?" Aphrodite barked a laugh devoid of humor. "Right about what? That I should have told him the whole sordid tale? That I should have laid bare every failure, every mistake, so he could rip me apart in front of you?" Her voice was cold, cutting. "Tell me, Eros. Was this satisfying for you? Watching me bleed while he took out his anger? Did it make you feel like the wise, noble guide you pretend to be?"
Eros's expression darkened. He stepped closer, his voice quieter now but no less firm. "This isn't about me, Aphrodite. It's about him. Zafron has a path ahead of him that neither of us can fully comprehend. The council will come for him. It's not a matter of if, but when. And when they do, he needs to be ready. He needs to know the stakes."
Aphrodite's jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing. "The council has no right—"
"They'll take what right they want," Eros interrupted, his tone sharper now. "You know that as well as I do. Zafron's existence is already a threat to their fragile balance. If you think they'll sit idly by while he gains power, you're deluding yourself."
Aphrodite's lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn't respond.
"He deserved to know," Eros repeated, his voice softer this time. "Because when the time comes, it won't just be his strength that's tested. It'll be his resolve. His belief in himself. And that starts with understanding the truth, no matter how painful it is."
Aphrodite looked away, her shoulders tense. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was laced with bitterness. "And now that he knows, tell me, Eros—was he happy? Was this truth you forced upon him worth it? Does it bring you satisfaction to see him broken?"
Eros sighed, his gaze steady. "No, Aphrodite. It doesn't. But it's not about happiness. It's about survival. You think keeping him in the dark would've saved him? It wouldn't. It would've made him weak, unprepared for what's coming."
"What's coming?" Aphrodite echoed, her voice a whisper. She looked back at him, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and fear. "Is that all you care about? Preparing him for the slaughter? For the council's games?"
"I care about giving him a fighting chance," Eros said firmly. "And you should too."
The room fell silent again, the tension between them palpable. Aphrodite's hands clenched and unclenched at her sides as she wrestled with her emotions. Finally, she turned away, her voice tight. "I've done enough damage, Eros. I won't add to it by standing here and listening to you lecture me."
"You've done damage, yes," Eros said, his tone soft but unyielding. "But that doesn't mean you can walk away now. Zafron is your descendant, your responsibility. Whether he forgives you or not, you owe it to him to see this through."
Aphrodite didn't respond. She stepped toward the archway once more, her movements slower this time, as though weighed down by the gravity of the conversation.
"Running won't change anything," Eros called after her.
She paused but didn't turn around. "No, it won't. But it's all I have left."
With that, she disappeared into the shadows, leaving Eros alone in the temple.
For a moment, he stood in silence, his gaze fixed on the door she'd walked through. Then, with a weary sigh, he turned his attention to the far end of the room, where the faintest shimmer of light seemed to flicker and fade.
"Zafron," he murmured under his breath, his expression unreadable. "You have no idea what's coming for you."