Aphrodisia, Day 91 A.F

"This is my twin brother, Melville," the woman introduced, gesturing to the man at her side, "and-"

"This is my twin sister, Myra," the male broke in, the trade off of dialogue so smooth I wondered if it had been rehearsed.

The siblings spoke in perfect union. "We are the Nōach twins. The Lovers."

"The Duke and Duchess Most Perverse," Melville added.

"Gods to the ranks of mortals," Myra chimed in. "Number six."

Tybira wrinkled her nose. "Lovers? That's absolutely disgusting and just plain unhealthy. How could people worship that?"

"You're a Roman, little Fauna?" Myra sneered.

"Yes, judging by the color of your tongue, you are," Melville confirmed. "Did the king of your gods not wed his sister?"

"Excellent point, brother." Myra ran a hand gently along her twin's forearm. "And her Jupiter then proceeded to have countless affairs. Say what you will, but at least-"

"We are always faithful."

"But you're not gods!" Enki challenged, coming to Tybira's aid. "You're Arcana. No different than any of us. You're not immortal."

Melville fixed Enki with a feline smile. "Not immortal-"

"Yet," Mrya completed.

"Could one of you twisted freaks kindly tell me why your temple is housed in one of my ships?" Cyprian growled. His voice was low and soft, but full of breathy intensity. The masculine version of Lady Lotus's purr.

"Your ship, Hanged Man?" Myra tilted her head in question, the movement almost bird-like.

"You're no native of Atlantis," Melville stated. "Why ever would you believe this ship should be yours?"

"Is it because this vessel was originally traded to your father?" Myra asked innocently.

Cyprian went utterly still. The only motion I could detect was the heavy rise and fall of his chest, and the aggressive ticking in his jaw. "My what?" His voice was so deep, it was barely audible, but the lack of volume was more than made up for by the ferocity in his eyes.

Melville tapped Myra's shoulder, grinning playfully. "Would you look at that, love? He doesn't remember being traded to The Priestess."

"Poor, handsome dear," Myra pouted, sticking out her lower lip. "Your father and ours were allies long before we were born. As Chroniclers, they knew we'd be in their lines."

"After my love and I were born," Melville continued, "your father made certain to sire as many sons as possible, just waiting for you."

Myra nodded enthusiastically. "And when you finally arrived, we traded you to Atlantis, that way- Oh! Where are my manners?"

"I don't believe you ever had manners, My," Melville chuckled.

The Duchess Most Perverse feigned hurt, reaching over the arm of her throne to slap her brother's chest. She looked back at Cyp curiously. "But where is the Priestess then? You were supposed to return with her."

"Below the sea," Matthew stated, piping up for the first time all day.

Cyprian glared at Matthew as if he couldn't decide whether to strangle The Fool or The Lovers first. "Everyone drowned in that damned Flood."

The Lovers made eye contact. I knew some message passed between them, but I couldn't guess what. Myra nodded subtly.

"Oh." Melville frowned. "I'd not heard of her passing."

"Well you never listen, dear." Myra shrugged. "Quite frankly, I'm not surprised you missed it."

"And did you know that The High Priestess somehow perished in a Flood created in her honor?" Melville snapped.

Myra flipped her dark hair over her shoulder, returning her attention to us. "Let's take a look at our guests, shall we? Let's see where their weak spots are."

Melville leaned forward. His amber, almost yellow eyes locked on Tybira and Enki. "Just as always. The Magician and Fauna have wasted no time with giving each other their hearts. Their affections couldn't be more blatant. They picked up right where they left off last time."

Enki and Tybira made eye contact before looking away hurriedly. Their cheeks tinted pink.

I didn't understand why the Lovers were pointing out their obvious infatuation, but it was nothing I wasn't already aware of.

"And you, Matthew..." Myra studied the boy. "No surprise, he loves the Empress."

Matthew? I still had trouble seeing him as anything more than a childish little boy. I glanced over my shoulder, surprised.

"Relax, Empress," Melville tutted. "Platonic love can be just as dangerous as romantic attraction. If not more dangerous. We know your heart is already quartered."

Matthew nodded eagerly at Melville's words, not the least bit unnerved. "Yes! Empress is my friend!"

Myra smiled hungerly at Cyprian. "As for the handsome Hanged Man-"

"My!" Melville stared at his sister, lips agape.

She placed a hand on his arm gently. "Of course he's not as handsome as you, my love. But you must admit, compared to his brothers, his looks can't be matched." She waved offhandedly to Scraggly-Beard, Red, and Nose, still glowering behind us.

Cyprian's eyes went wide. He whirled around.

Scraggly-Beard simply smirked, wagging his fingers at Cyp. "It's been a long time, brother. Still, I didn't think you'd have forgotten us."

"I don't believe it. I don't believe it for one damn second. And even if it was true, you lot abandoned me," Cyp snarled, voice thrumming with hatred. "You don't deserve a memory."

"We didn't abandon you," Red corrected. "Father traded you. You were supposed to learn with The Priestess and come back with her."

"Enough!" Melville barked, sending the three mortals staggering back. "The Priestess's Tarasova shirked her duties and betrayed our bargain. Therefore, we have no alliance with the Water Witch, nor do we have any alliance with you, Traitor."

"I didn't betray anything!" Cyp protested. "I'm no traitor! I never break my word!"

A coy smile spread across Myra's face. "We shall see if that's true. Let's take a look in that heart of yours, shall we?"

"Interesting," Melville mused. "Poor Hanged Man. In love with a certain Atlantian queen. But your affections were rebuffed. Yet you're developing the wisps of emotion for a different woman, who so happens to be in our grasp. I wonder, beloved, do you think his heart belongs to The Empress enough that destroying her will in turn destroy him?"

"No, my love, not yet," Myra decided. "There's potential... his attraction to the Empress is nothing more than attraction as of now. His infatuation with her has—excuse my poor pun—has not truly blossomed yet."

"Yes," the brother agreed. "It has not yet fully flowered."

My cheeks burned. I studied my feet, unable to look at Cyprian as these two made jokes about false feeling between us.

"And then there's the third bit," Myra continued. "He is also loyal to his own life. Still, a healthy sense of self preservation doesn't mean cruelty. More likely it translates to cowardice. He hasn't even tapped into his powers."

"Must be too afraid," Melville stated.

"I'm no coward!" Cyp yelled indignantly. "I don't know anything about any powers. I don't have abilities like them and if I did, I would have used them to save Atlantis and make sure we never ended up on your stolen boat."

"Hm." Myra turned her attention back to Matthew. "The Fool, as always, loves only himself, and wants nothing but to win."

Already got Matthew, crazy lady. I didn't believe a word the Lovers spewed, but it unnerved me that Myra had two very different statements for her analysis of Matthew.

"And last, but certainly not least..." Melville studied me with cold, calculating eyes. There was intelligence in his icy gaze, mirror to his sister's. Perhaps he wasn't quite as intellectual as Amire had been, but he made up for it with cruelty. I could tell that Melville relished to watch me squirm beneath his scrutiny, and although I was determined not to give him the satisfaction, I could do little to hide my discomfort, or the inexplicable sense of violation.

"She's utterly perfect, don't you agree, brother?" Myra reflected, tapping her lips with her forefinger.

"Yes," he agreed, grinning like a starving dog who'd been shown a meaty bone. "Exactly what I burn to play with."

I ground my teeth, forcing myself to be brave, or at least appear as though I was. If these two were searching for a weakness to exploit, I'd do everything in my power not to show them one. I could feel the lazy, chilling fingers of Lady Lotus trailing up my back, straightening my spin for me. Her voice melded with mine. "I'm aware the two of you have no respect for the norms of society, what with your disturbing dalliances. But do you know nothing of civil niceties? It's rude to talk about someone as if they aren't right in front of you."

Myra cast me a simpering look of fake apology. "Ah, yes, where have our manners gone? Although, I don't believe the great Empress can speak of social protocol and comom niceties without rendering herself a hypocrite."

"The Empress is a hypocrite," Melville acknowledged, snorting loudly. "She preaches loyalty, yet breaks alliance after alliance with the flick of her claws. Hypocrisy is practically a norm of her society."

The Lovers ignored me, Myra shrugging to her brother. "True, but let's take the high ground and let her maintain her delusions of righteousness."

"I do no such thing!" I insisted, incredulous. "I don't lie. I'd never betray anyone. I'd never hurt my friends."

"And she chides us for our manners?" Melville chuckled, placing a hand to his chest. He glared down at me from his throne of bone. "We can see into your heart as if looking through a window. We can play your emotions like a lute. You have no secrets from us, no matter how many you keep from your so-called friends."

"Mel," Myra pouted, shaking his shoulder. "Don't be so mean to her yet. It's no fun when you torture another woman, especially without me."

Melville sighed, returning his gaze to me. "Well, Empress, we've already stated that your mortal heart has been quartered. It throbs constantly for the loss of your family and friends. A sister lost not once, but twice."

"You're afraid to trust after so many betrayals," Myra advanced, "while simultaneously, you're so afraid to be alone that you trust too easily. You love strongly, and it will be love to eventually break you. It nearly has already."

"You came very near to breaking after the loss of your sister," Melville enlightened. "But it was the companionship of Fauna, The Magician and The Fool, a sliver of infatuation with The Hanged Man, and a hope of recovering your friend that has held you together."

"They are the strands you cling to," Myra stated. "And if one of those strands were to be severed, the fraying tapestry that is your mind would very likely unravel."

Melville scoffed. "Of course, this is your mortal heart. It is constantly at war with your Arcana instincts. Constantly pitted against that voice urging you to smite all those around you, revelling in their agony. Your need to betray rivals that of even The Hanged Man, who's named The Traitor so appropriately."

Myra cast Tybira and Enki a pitying smile. "Some allies you have found: the two most deceitful Arcana."

Tybria pulled back her teeth nervously. "What sort of mind readers are you, freaks?"

"We are not mind readers," Myra corrected. "That gift is-"

"Mine!" Matthew broke in. "Mine! Mine! Mine!"

"Yes," she tutted, scowling at Matthew's interruption. "Mind reading is one of The Fool's many abilities."

"We don't read minds," Melville repeated. "We read hearts. A much more elegant skill, I'd say. No offense, Fool. Minds can be deceived so easily. They change on a whim. A heart is far harder to alter. Hearts do not lie as minds and lips so often do."

"Well," Myra hummed, "I've grown bored of talk. We have learned what we need to prepare for them. Shehm, Hamlet, Yaphet, escort these five to their holding chamber. We will send for them as soon as we are ready."