Thalia’s POV
I kept humming like a bird while washing the dishes, the bubbly notes of the tune covering the storm brewing inside me. It was either hum or cry, and I had cried enough for one day. My eyes burned from holding back the tears, and every few seconds, I had to sniff hard to stop my nose from betraying me.
Of course, the other servants noticed. How could they not? I was practically shaking over a sink of half-cleaned plates.
“Are you okay, Thalia?” someone asked from the cluster of six women rinsing the beverage jugs beside me.
Her voice was soft, kind even, but I didn’t dare turn. Didn’t want to look into her pity-filled eyes because her question sliced right through the wall I was building. A single tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it.
“I’m fine,” I said, forc
