XI.
As the shrouds burn in the air after the battle of the labyrinth, she keeps her eyes fixed on the distant silhouette of the Pine.
It was battle, after all. There were sides. There were strategies. And all was fair in love and war. Double agents (she refused to use the word spy) were practically a requirement.
Her face is screwed up into a tear-stained mask, and she has the skill to make her eyes water more if she needs to. Around her, her siblings are sniffling. The other campers look grim or sad in various degrees, and stare at the shrouds as if to etch them into memory.
She has no need for that, naturally. Lord Kronos would win; because he was stronger, more powerful. And because the gods were essentially spoiled little children squabbling over nothings. And when that happened, she would be a somebody in the new regime. Not a universally undervalued daughter of a love-goddess.
Silena Beauregard had always prided herself on choosing the winning side.