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With an irritated huff, she strode forward, fed up with waiting around for these useless gods. Her feet glided along the soft velvet carpet that lined the library as she stormed past the crackling fire and the high-backed armchairs surrounding it, scowling at the towering bookcases as she walked.
When she exited the library, she approached a servant who held a pile of folded silver curtains in his arms.
“Pardon me,” she said, adopting her humble Hecate persona.
The servant jumped, then turned to face her, his eyes wide with surprise. Upon noticing her, he dropped into a short, polite bow.
Pandora offered a small smile. She had great respect for the servants of Elysium; they were not powerful gods like Apollo, but they were still descendants from deities. Their bloodlines were watered down by humans, making them far less powerful than the nobility who lived in the castle.
Pandora herself might have been close to such a bloodline, if she hadn’t been raised by Aidoneus himself. “I have a message for Lord Sol. Would you be able to deliver it for me?”
The servant inclined his head, and a tangle of bouncy curls momentarily obscured his eyes. “Of course, Lady Hecate.”
Ah, so he knew who she was. The title he addressed her with, and the show of respect to her as a goddess, only made Pandora like him more. Her smile widened as she said, “Could you please inform him the Lady Hecate anxiously awaits his arrival in the library?”
The servant nodded. “Yes, my lady. Right away.”
He bustled away, and Pandora smirked at his departure. She bent over and removed her shoes, dangling the straps from her fingers. After waiting a few moments, she soundlessly trailed after him. The cool marble floor was brisk against her bare feet, but it was much more inconspicuous than the loud clopping of her sandals.
She rounded the corner and immediately backed up a few steps so she wouldn’t be seen. The servant was now depositing the drapes into the arms of another attendant before hurrying off, no doubt to relay Pandora’s message. After ensuring the hall was empty, Pandora emerged and hastened to catch up with the servant.
It wasn’t difficult to follow him. She wagered he wasn’t accustomed to deities following him around. But she didn’t care. She had stooped to much lesser roles to achieve what she wanted.
The few servants Pandora passed didn’t give her a second glance, nor did they notice that she crept around the castle barefoot. They bowed their heads as they passed, acknowledging her as a goddess.
For once, she had their respect. She wasn’t sure if it was something Apollo had said, or simply that she was a woman in fine apparel that made her seem more god-like. But she felt her chin lifting and the corners of her mouth rising in satisfaction.
She had never been respected before. Not here, not in the Underworld… Nowhere had she been given the treatment she deserved.
She would enjoy it. While it lasted.
The servant climbed a winding staircase and followed a long, narrow hallway on the second floor. Pandora followed, lingering at the end of the hallway by a table boasting a white marble bust of Apollo. She counted the doors to figure out which one he would approach.
The servant reached the seventh door on the left and tapped lightly on it. A loud, obnoxiously familiar voice called, “You may enter!”
Pandora rolled her eyes. Even the way he spoke to servants was pompous. What an ass.
The servant muttered something incoherent, and she heard Sol’s boisterous laugh. “Ah, yes, I’m sure she is. Thank you for relaying the message, Alexander.”
Pandora hid behind Apollo’s bust as the servant hurried past her, oblivious that he had led Pandora right to Sol.
When she was certain the servant was out of sight, she replaced her shoes and stomped down the carpeted hallway before pounding her fist on Sol’s door.
“Oh, what now?” he barked.
Instead of answering, she threw open the doors and strode inside.
The room was twice as big as hers, with a massive bed on one end and several lush sofas on the other. A large platter of fruits, cheeses, and breads rested on the table between the couches, and hanging on the walls were dozens upon dozens of the most breathtaking paintings Pandora had ever seen. Sunsets with swirls of amber and gold, ocean waves of pure amethyst and turquoise, palm trees in a storm of icy blues and grays, a vibrant forest of emerald and jade… All the paintings depicted various forms of nature, and the colors were as luminous as if the art had been crafted by magic itself. The paintings took up the entire wall, completely obscuring the wallpaper. Pandora had to forcibly tear her eyes away from them and remind herself why she was here.
Finding her resolve once more, she spotted Sol standing by the open balcony doors with a canvas before him, a paintbrush in his hand as he faced away from her.
And he was wearing nothing but a pair of loose, tan trousers.
Gods above, Pandora thought, her throat filling with heat as Sol turned to face her. Several splotches of cerulean paint stained his hairy chest, and there was one on the left side of his nose as well. Pandora couldn’t keep her gaze from straying to the sculpted muscles of his chest and abdomen. His tan, golden skin glowed with the rising sun behind him. Goddess, he was breathtaking. Like a piece of art himself.
Sol’s eyebrows lifted, though he showed no other sign of surprise at her sudden entrance.
“Ah, Hecate,” he said idly. “By all means, show yourself in.” With that, he turned back to his painting.
