Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“How would she find out, Hermes?” A not-so-subtle threat in the question.
I shake my head. “Not from me. You know that or you wouldn’t have revealed that he’s alive.” I want to pace, but I don’t dare show even that much agitation. “Everyone is focused on the city proper. Arrange for them to leave Olympus after you return to Circe’s side. She’ll have no reason to keep more than a few people on the house. They should be easy for your security to deal with.”
For a long moment, I think she’ll steamroll right over my suggestion, but she finally nods. “You’re right. It will be safer for them outside of Olympus. I’ll see it done.”
The strength threatens to go out of me. I thought she’d offer up more of a fight. It’s good to know we’re on the same page about the threat against Psyche and Eros—and our desire to ensure they stay among the living. “Good.”
She starts to turn for the door. “Sleep, Hermes. I’ll get word before she conducts the next farce of a trial. I’ll wake you then.”
It’s as if her words summoned the exhaustion I’ve been very intentionally not thinking about. I exhale slowly, the sudden urge to weep nearly taking over. Nearly. “You knew she’d conduct these farces of trials when you allied yourself with her.”
“Yes,” she says simply. I respect her for not protesting her innocence. “I would let all of the legacy families and most of the Thirteen burn to ensure my daughters stay safe—and come out on top at the end.”
“That last bit is doing a lot of heavy lifting.”
She shakes her head. “I’ve never pretended to be anything other than what I am—at least not to you and those in power. If you chose to ignore it or underestimate it, that’s your mistake.”
I’d like to protest, but who am I to judge? I’ve done unforgivable things to get to this point, and I’ll likely be required to do more before the end. The weight of knowing that bows my shoulders and has me weaving on my feet. “Noted.”
“This is a guest bedroom. The sheets are clean and there are fresh towels in the bathroom. I highly recommend you shower before sleeping. It will be more effective.” She turns away. “Toss your clothes into the basket and set it outside your room. I’ll wash them while you rest.”
She exits the room, quietly closing the door behind her. There’s nothing to do in response but snoop around. It’s a nice room, the furniture oak, with a heaviness that feels lived in despite it being a guest room. The comforter is a tasteful flower pattern that matches the gray rug at the foot of the bed and the dusky rose curtains currently pulled over blackout blinds.
I poke my head into the bathroom to find it decorated in the same gray and dusky rose. There are a number of high-end products in the shower and even more under the sink. I wasn’t aware that Demeter hosted in her country residence often, so she’s either deeply invested in her role as prime hostess, or she’s been doing something out here in the countryside with no one to witness.
A month ago, that would have interested me greatly. Now, I can’t bring myself to care. I walk back into the bedroom and poke through the closet, finding a handful of clothing options in multiple sizes. Thoughtful. Very fucking thoughtful.
I strip and toss my clothes in the wicker basket she indicated, set it in the hallway, and then indulge in the longest, hottest shower I’ve had in a really long time. It’s almost enough to warm me right down to my bones. Almost.
When I come back into the bedroom, I find a silk bonnet sitting on the foot of the bed, its pattern identical to the comforter’s. I narrow my eyes. “For fuck’s sake, now she’s just showing off.”
It’s only when I climb into the bed—the mattress is, of course, like I imagine sleeping on the clouds would be—that the events of the last two days roll over me: Eros, dead and then alive. Circe. Just…Circe. Atalanta hurt, turning away from me.
I plug my phone into the charger on the nightstand and, after precisely half a second thinking about it, call Atalanta. I don’t care if she hates me; I need to know she’s okay.
To my surprise, she actually answers. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” This is awkward. I hate how awkward it is. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I made it back across the river, and Athena had her doctor look at me.” She hesitates. “I wasn’t perfectly honest with you before.”
I blink. I’d been about to apologize for my mishandling of this entire situation, but… “About what?”
“When I came to the upper city to save you. It wasn’t exactly at Athena’s command.”
“You went rogue?” My heart kicks up a notch. It’s a silly heart. She shouldn’t have risked herself for me. She wouldn’t have been stabbed if she hadn’t.