“Yes, you’ve said that.”
“But it changes nothing. The man you came all this way to defend is a violent murderer. You can’t spin some tale about him being a good person who’s in over his head. He would have killed my sister in the Ares tournament without hesitation, and he did kill Hephaestus at that cursed house party. He’s been an active participant in Minos’s plans every step of the way, and if he has his way, he’ll destroy the city I love.” She sighs again. “I feel for you. Truly, I do. I know it’s not easy to be subject to a family ruled by a man who puts ambition above all else. But the fact remains that my husband has made his choices. I have to make mine, too.”
She’s being remarkably frank in a way I find refreshing. But then, she’s always seemed to be frank and downright honest when we speak. Maybe that’s all a ploy to gain my trust, but my instincts don’t think so.
I sip my tea. “You’re talking about your father. The last Zeus.”
Aphrodite hesitates, almost as if she’s arguing with herself. Finally, she shrugs. “My father wasn’t much different from Minos, best I can tell. Ambition and power didn’t turn him into a monster, but they gave him the ability to be monstrous without worrying about consequences. He formed me and my siblings into tools the same as Minos has done with his children and foster children. So, as I said, I sympathize.”
I hadn’t given much thought to the last Zeus, seeing how he’s dead. But it’s impossible to escape his shadow in Olympus. People still talk about him in whispers, and when I got curious and looked him up in MuseWatch, I was a little shocked to find rumors that he killed three of his wives.
Including Aphrodite’s mother.
“That must have been hard for you having a father like that.”
“I survived.” She’s obviously trying for an irreverent tone, but she doesn’t quite pull it off. “He didn’t break any of us, though he drove one of my brothers out of this city and now he’ll never return, even though the old bastard is dead and gone.”
This openness has to be a tactic of some kind, but if I want Aphrodite’s help, I have to offer her something. I drink half my tea while I debate how much to tell her. I know Minos—or his benefactor—has put significant resources into burying any mention of them and their history…which includes records of us and the Minotaur from before he fostered us.
That history can’t touch us now, but it might not hurt to share to see if it tips Aphrodite in a more sympathetic direction. “Theseus and I were both dropped at the same orphanage when we were babies. It was…” I stare into the remains of my tea. “It was bad. It could have been worse, I suppose, but we learned early to watch each other’s backs and that we could only trust each other. I’m not proud of some of the things we did to survive, but the alternative?” I shrug, fighting to keep tension from my shoulders. The alternative was death or being forced to barter body and soul to those more powerful for protection. Drugs ran rampant through the older kids, an intentional funnel between getting them hooked and then feeding them into the underground of Aeaea.
Theseus and I managed to evade that fate, but I can’t help feeling like he bartered body and soul, just in a different way. For me. “I can’t regret what he’s done to secure our safety.” Regretting it means devaluing his sacrifice, and I won’t do that.
“I’m sorry.” Aphrodite sounds like she even means it. I can’t help checking her expression, searching for pity I don’t want.
It’s only the absence of it that keeps me going. “We were fifteen when Minos heard word of us and came calling.” Gods, this shouldn’t be so hard. I clear my throat. “The reason he found out about us was, well, one of the adults at the orphanage was taking too keen an interest in me. He came to my room one night and Theseus beat him nearly to death.”
“Pandora…”
I keep going. I’ve committed to this, and I’ll see it through. “He kept me safe. Against all odds and even though he was just a kid himself, he’s always kept me safe. Minos seemed like a gift from the gods, but neither of us was naive enough to believe it came without strings. That’s why Theseus negotiated to ensure Minos took me, too.”
It’s my fault he took that deal. I don’t say the words. I’ve never said the words. Theseus would argue me to a standstill if he knew I felt like that. To him, protecting me is second nature. He never counts the cost to himself.
“So, yeah, I won’t argue that Theseus —or I—are good people. I know we aren’t. But surely you can understand why he’s given Minos his loyalty. If you could offer something even greater, you might win his loyalty for yourself.” It’s a long shot, an impossible ask. If Theseus won’t turn away from Minos for me, what can she possibly offer that would sway him?
Aphrodite considers me for a long time. “I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through. I’m even sorry for what he’s gone through, though Theseus hardly has the market cornered on suffering. But, Pandora, you have to understand. My first loyalty will always be to this city. I’ve sacrificed people I like and people I…love…for Olympus. Theseus—Hephaestus—doesn’t even rank. I can’t afford to hesitate or let my emotions make choices for me. As long as he’s a threat to Olympus, I’m a threat to him.”
“But—”
“I appreciate your loyalty to him.” She smiles a little. “He doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”
I could lie, but I have a feeling she’d see right through it. “No.”
I expect her to gloat. Or make a snide comment. Something to celebrate this little victory over her husband.
She doesn’t. Aphrodite’s dark eyes are sympathetic. “Would you like some more tea? I was just about to settle in for the night and read a book. You’re welcome to join me.”
Longing hits me hard enough that I sway. I shake my head, trying to focus. “No cavorting around town and making a fool of Theseus?”
“Ah, but there’s a method to my chaos.” She grins. “You have to give the press time to rest in between rowdy, scandalous acts. Otherwise, they lose their impact.”
I stare. Always three steps ahead. No wonder Theseus is struggling so much with her. None of the weapons he’s trained with work in the arena where he finds himself fighting. “You’re terrifying.”
“It’s been said before. It’ll be said again.” She shrugs, but the move is a little too tense to be fully uncaring. “Choose, Pandora. Stay or go?”
I drain the rest of my now-cold tea. Really, there’s no choice at all. I desperately don’t want to go back to Minos’s place, and I have nowhere else to go.
Excuses to take what you want.
I ignore the little voice inside me and set my cup down on the saucer. “I’m staying.”
16
HEPHAESTUS
Pandora is long-gone by the time Minos finishes lecturing me on all the ways I’ve failed him. It’s just as well. I don’t have it in me to keep fighting right now. I’ve never been so fucking exhausted in my life. Everywhere I turn, I’m falling short of people’s expectations. Minos. Pandora. Brontes and the rest of Hephaestus’s people. Even my cursed wife. I shouldn’t care about the latter two, but when they become part of a larger problem? That shit is a trend, not an exception.
I stop by Minos’s library to snag a bottle of whisky and tuck it into my jacket. I turn toward the door and stop short.
Icarus leans against the wall. He’s wearing slacks and a shirt that looks like he started unbuttoning and got distracted. He doesn’t look much like his father, aside from his coloring. Light-brown skin and wavy dark hair. But his eyes are wider and doe-like, his features fine and delicate. Like Ariadne, he apparently takes after his poor, dead mother.
He lifts a single brow. “Stealing liquor. How pedestrian of you.”