Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Not that my father would have permitted midnight runs to the kitchen. When I was younger, he caught me once or twice, and I had to sit through a lecture on gluttony every time. I learned to be sneaky after that, though Icarus usually got there before I had a chance to leave my room, showing up with an armful of snacks and a mischievous grin on his face.
I look down at the plate before me and then back at Asterion. “You had the chef make me an extra plate because you knew I wouldn’t eat?”
He holds my gaze even though he clearly wants to look away. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
I pick up my fork and set it down again. I’m a smart woman, for all that it sometimes takes me a while to realize certain truths. I’m a little ashamed that I misread the situation so intensely. That I misread him so intensely. “You were never going to kill me, were you?”
“Eat your food. You don’t want it getting cold on you.”
It’s not an answer, and yet at the same time, it is. I don’t know what this means. I don’t see how it can change anything. If Asterion doesn’t obey my father’s commands, then he’ll just find someone else to do it. If I don’t marry Dionysus and get the blueprints, then it won’t matter what my father wants, because Hera will demand her due. I’m still trapped.
But…maybe I’m not trapped alone? I’m terrified to even hope that’s the case.
“Thank you,” I say softly. This gift is damn near priceless, because it shows the depth of knowing that only exists between me and two other people. My brother…and Asterion. I pick up my fork again, determined to honor this. My stomach is still twisted up, but here in this room with only us, I relax enough to take a first bite. And then another. And another.
It’s phenomenal. It tastes just as good as it looks, just as good as it smells. Asterion doesn’t speak as I eat my way through the meal, but he slips out of the room right as I’m about to finish, reappearing a few moments later with a small bowl. “This isn’t technically on the menu, but I saw the chef and sous chefs trying it out, so I…convinced…him to give me one to sample.”
I stare at the chocolate dessert and have to fight not to cry. “This isn’t going to end well for us. I don’t see a path forward.”
“You don’t have to.” He sets it on the desk in front of me. “I’ll see the way for both of us.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I just am.”
What must it be like to have that kind of confidence? I’ll never know. I fight and scramble and do my best not to be helpless, but at the end of the day, I suffer at the whims of those more powerful than me. Truly, Asterion and I should be on the same page when it comes to that. He fought his way up from nothing, but even now, more powerful physically than anyone I know, he’s still my father’s man. But he’s not letting that stop him from doing what he wants. For…me.
I eat the dessert slowly, and it’s truly the best thing I’ve ever tasted. The entire dinner is. Some of that is the nature of the food itself, but a good portion of my feelings is the result of the care that went into planning this. I always knew that Asterion saw me. I just never quite understood what that meant. I’m still not sure I do.
It’s over far too quickly. I know better than to try to make it last, but I still eat slower than is wise. When I finish, Asterion takes my plate and presses a light kiss to my forehead. “Tomorrow, Ariadne. Bring the blueprints to me, and then we’ll talk about the next steps.”
I don’t tell him that I got the blueprints the morning after our disastrous meeting at his apartment. I’ve had them since yesterday, and not even I can explain why I hesitated to hand them over. It’s not because I hold some fondness for Zeus or even really care if he lives or dies. The man might play at being a king, but he’s just as much a monster as his father was. He must be for Hera to plan to kill him. Though, truth be told, she’s plenty monstrous in her own right.
“I want to get out of the city.”
Asterion crouches in front of me. He’s tall enough that we’re almost the same height. He studies my face as if memorizing it, as if for the first time in as long as I can remember, he’s not entirely sure of me. “I can get you out. Not yet—not everything is in place to make it happen—but I can do it.”