Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
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.”