Kraye’s eyes hopped from Chair to King to Emperor. “How can you not see it? I was framed! Ganymede got Danaë pregnant and lured me in to take the blame!” “Then my real father is Ganymede?” Stunned Carlyle barely had the strength to voice the words. “Yes!” Kraye snapped. “Yes, you’re the poison that started all this.” “No, Merion. This is our son.” Danaë stirred from her swoon at last, tresses spilling down about her shoulders, exquisite as when Helios pours gold across dawn waves from harbor to horizon.
