The King of Hearts - Jovee Winters Page 0,35

not a good match for Psyche. He would hurt her. I could read his heart and I knew there would never come a day when he would learn to honor or respect her. No doubt that had been part of mother’s plan too.

The beast was clearly xenophobic. Not that he didn’t have cause, but I would be damned if I let him harm her. Still, I needed to play this like Dionysus would. With care. I needed to gain the beast’s trust somehow.

He might hate humans, but I was not one of them. I could use that fact to my advantage.

Sitting before him, I crossed my legs. He sat above me, almost like a king in repose. But that had been a calculated move on my part. I was attempting to put him at ease, to prove to him that not all gods were like the ones he knew.

He thinned his eyes. “You are good.” He sniffed.

My lips twitched. The beast was bright, I’d give him that.

“I will give you three honest answers. Choose your questions wisely.”

Only three, I had so many more. Trying to narrow them down to just three would be impossible. And yet, I had to try.

“What is your name?” I asked him.

His brows lowered. “I give you three questions and that is what you waste it on?” He laughed. “Humans and gods have such queer notions. Beasts have no name. Don’t you know that?” His continued laughter was tinged with bitterness.

“You ask me a question and so I will answer you just as honestly. You are right that beasts have no name. But you are no beast. What is man? A higher thinking species, is it not? And what sets them apart from those they master is a name. Names are power. Names connote strength. Wisdom. Feeling. You think. You speak. Eloquently. You recognize the injustice of your plight and because of that I see it too. If we can treat our pets with enough honor to grant them a name, then surely you, an autonomous thinking individual should bear one too.”

He was silent for several moments, so long I wondered if I’d lost him with my impassioned speech. But finally, he said, “They did not name me, but I did name myself. I am called, Basil.”

I nodded. “King-like. That is what it means. By choosing such a name you are owning that you are every much their peer.” I did not phrase it as a question because the Minotaur was far too wily, and would count that against me. But even so, I understood and did not need him to agree for me to recognize the truth of what he’d done.

His breath shuddered out of him.

“How is it that you know so much? You are far more learned than any other half breed I’ve ever met.”

His nostrils flared and I sensed that he wasn’t sure of me still. Whether I was just like all the rest of my peers, or if, maybe just maybe, I could be different. But it seemed to me that his gruff tone had cooled by a degree when he answered.

“King Artaxerxes found me when I was but a bull calf. I’d been barely weaned from my mother’s teat when he’d had me taken away. The abuse they heaped upon me was substantial. I was taught my place from the very beginning. I might be more powerful in body, but in these spelled chains I was as helpless as a babe.” He lifted his wrists, staring at the silver cuffs with a mile-long stare, no doubt recalling the tortures he’d endured at their hands.

“I suppose he saw my education as elevating his own status. He owned a creature that could impress his peers. I could recite poetry for them. Solve unsolvable mathematic equations. My elevated status made him a more desirable aristocrat to rub elbows with. It was never for me. Say what you will about the King he played the game very well. But had my elevation in status not directly affected his I doubt he would have bothered.”

I nodded, recognizing that he was very likely correct. I knew what it was to be raised amongst a group of peoples who lived simply to outshine those around them. One-upmanship was an Olympic sport on Olympus.

“Basil,” I said, finally getting around to my third question. “What is it that you desperately want above all else? And before you answer,” I held up a finger pausing him as he was about to