Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
"Uh, yeah, I knew that."
Nia smirks. "Liar." She points to the paper bag. "You need to be naked under your robe—-"
What the hell—-
"And attendees who take their masks off at any point while within festival premises will be penalized with community service for thirty days...in Tartarus."
—-did I get myself into?
My roommate crosses her arms over her chest. "Now, tell me. Are you absolutely sure you're still going?"
No.
But instead I hear myself say, "Yes."
The other girl clucks her tongue. "You know you're asking for trouble, right?"
I do know that, and I think that's exactly why I'm going.
If I'm in trouble, then perhaps my god will come to my aid, and I won't have to swallow my pride and tell him I no longer needed time.
Chapter Twelve
Nyx had outdone herself.
The god still remembered how the younger goddess had started with a small cult-like following in the backwoods of Ephesus, and although it had taken a few millennia and one world-shattering war, the fame of her festival was such that the Muse of History was now certain to include Nyx's name in her records.
The Festival of Misrule opened with a bang at exactly 11:11 pm, and this was true in every sense of the word. There were fireworks aplenty, but magical lights also beamed down on naked couples making love in wild abandon on stage.
Speakers blasted out drum-heavy music whose beats were energetically matched by the thrusts and pumps of the individuals on stage. As Nyx's elixir for the year was lust, the scent of sex in the air was almost tangible, and the crowd wasted little time in finding a partner (or two) to indulge their desires for the flesh.
With Nyx at the height of her power, the goddess was able to put up a pavilion whose columns were made of shooting stars that endlessly spiraled around each other. Come day time, all of these would be gone, and it would seem as if the festival was but a dream.
Post-3rd humans were still intrinsically bound to their social and moral constructs, and it was why they needed this one night to yield to their perverted desires while keeping their identities buried under masks. That was how the Festival of Misrule always worked, and it was this promise of forbidden fantasies come to life that attracted mortals from all over the world.
Eros had been keeping a brooding eye on the festival entrance since Nyx opened her gates to welcome the attendees. A part of him was still unable to believe that his beloved truly meant to attend such an event, but another part of him feared that this was Halyna's way of telling him she had now moved on.
If so...
She was to be pitied, since the god had no plans of letting her go.
He had once granted her freedom, and he had warned her of his possessiveness if she chose to return to his side. But that was exactly what she did, and so she must now lie in his bed and sleep in it for the rest of her soon-to-be-immortal life.
An hour passed before the god finally sensed her presence, and he inhaled harshly upon taking in her appearance.
A midnight-blue robe flowed loosely around her dainty figure, but with Nyx deliberately asking the wind gods to blow the coldest air in the direction of Rosethorne, it was clear that she had come naked like all the other attendees, with her nipples pouting against the thin blue silk of her garment.
An exquisitely intricate full-faced Bauta covered her face, old-rose in shade and heavily gilded. It concealed her identity perfectly, but because Halyna was the love of his eternal life—-
He would always know his little bird, no matter the guise she wore.
However...
The god was not sure it was still the same for his beloved.
Chapter Thirteen
Something feels off.
The words echo repeatedly like an earthquake warning inside my mind, and the feeling of dread grows heavier the closer I get to the festival. My body shivers against the biting cold, but it's the way my soul shrivels that worries me.
As strange and embarrassing as it feels to walk around naked save for a loose robe that comes with stupid thigh-high slits, I know enough that it's not my near-nudity that bothers me. There's something else about this night, and when the GPS directions of my school app says I need to take a turn into a particularly dark and narrow road—-
Wait a minute.
The answer finally comes to me.
I know this sounds silly, but it feels as if the poison from Coriander House has traveled worlds and made its way to infiltrate Rosethorne.
I'm tempted to tell one of Eros' brothers about it, but I start second-guessing myself when the feelings fade the closer I walk to the pavilion. Maybe this is just me being paranoid? The gods were pretty emphatic when they told me my parents and I were safe in Rosethorne.