“Let me guess,” Hermes crossed his legs at the knee, “you think that by removing yourself from the equation, you’re going to give him some space to work out his mommy issues, and he’ll realize he doesn’t love you?”
Hecate blushed a furious shade of crimson and sat up straighter, stuttering. “N-no!”
“That’s a yes.” Hermes shrugged, taking another sip. “You’re making excuses for Faidra, too, I imagine?” Hecate nearly fell out of her chair.
“You know about her, too?”
Hermes looked bored. “I told you, it would be so much easier if you just acted like I knew everything.”
Hecate stared at him warily for a second before she visibly slumped in her chair.
“Yes. Fine. It’s the news of his motherandan engagement though, Hermes. Surely he needs—”
“Hecate, stop talking,” Hermes quipped, sitting up a little straighter and pointing a finger at her. Hecate’s eyes got wide. “Yes, I know, someone just told the mighty and terrifying Underworld goddess to shut up.” He rolled his eyes. “Moving on. Darling, having mommy issues and some bizarre engagement his parents decided on doesn’t make Aeëtes a bad person. Hell, it just makes him an Olympian.” Hermes laughed at his own joke, snapping his fingers and refilling their cups. Hecate floundered slightly, trying to come up with a response but Hermes kept talking.
“He’s a good man.” His voice was gentle, and he leaned forward, grabbing hold of Hecate’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “I know that you didn’t expect to hear that from me, but it’s true. You can see it in his eyes, Hecate, mygods.”Hermes shook his head. “That manlovesyou.”
Hecate suddenly choked back a sob, a few tears falling down her face. She knew that Hermes was right, but hearing it come out of his mouth—the last place that she expected it—sent a million more cracks into the empty place in her chest.
“Oh, my veracious night terror,” Hermes crooned, standing up and pulling Hecate to her feet. He wrapped her up in a tight hug, kissing her forehead. “Look at you, withfeelings.It’s adorable. You’re suffering like the rest of us.”
“I hate you,” Hecate muttered, the words sounding muffled in his chest.
“I know.” He patted her hair a few times. “This is scary. You’re very scary, though, so you’ll figure it out.” He pulled away from her and cupped her cheek, swiping away the last of her tears with his thumb. His smirk was back as he looked at her with a glint in his eyes. “Doesn’t mean you can’t make him work for it a little.”
“Hermes!” Hecate chided him, giving him a playful shove. The scent of myrrh picked up around them again, and Hecate knew he was getting ready to depart.
“Just a thought!” He clapped his hands together. “Everyone loves a hot man on his knees.”
“You—” Hecate picked up her cup to throw it at him, but he was already gone, his laugh disappearing on the wind.
31
Hecate waited until first light before nearly bolting from the palace. She was feeling more resolved after her conversation with Hermes, but there were fragments of fear that were hanging around in her mind. She wanted to make it into the center of town and visit her temple; there was nothing that calmed her racing mind more, her ability to connect with women and help them ease their woes. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and the sea, and she couldn’t help but think of Aeëtes somewhere in the palace behind her. He wasn’t lying when he said that his parents put together the engagement—that much she trusted at this point—but she had reservations without knowing Faidra.
Have they ever been close? Does she feel for him? What does that even look like, ifI’mthe one getting in the way?Hecate looked at the lemon trees as she wound her way to the marketplace, making sure that her glamour was in place. She had a tendency to scowl when deep in thought and she knew she was doing it now.You could just ask Aeëtes, you fool.Her thoughts argued with one another, one side of her brain wanting to just return home to the Underworld and the other side demanding she go speak to Aeëtes.Go to the temple first.A third part of her brain, a mediator of sorts, chimed in.I’m going insane.
One thing that always surprised Hecate was how the mortal cities almost all felt the same. She knew that there were rich differences, and she enjoyed them all, but there was a comforting homecoming of sorts for her at every temple. Marketplaces were crowded; people yelled and laughed in the streets, and the prayers of the devoted and the desperate tickled her skin like whispers. She weaved through the crowds effortlessly, catching the tail end of haggling conversations and early morning meetings. Her temple was hidden behind a few of the market stalls, the smell of cinnamon incense making its way up to the heavens. Hecate always thought that was ironic—the smoke of her offerings always went up, up, up when she so often was in rest beneath their feet.
It was crowded as she moved towards the entrance, her glamour so well intact that none of the devotees around her recognized their goddess. She felt her magic ebb and flow in response to them, the power to soothe and seek revenge, when necessary, came flooding out of her. The inside of the temple was similar to any one that she had seen before, simple, but she appreciated how well cared for it was.
Hecate was glad to see that there was no statue of her in the center of the long hall. It always made her a little embarrassed to come face to face with the likeliness of herself. Instead, there were two great growling marble statues of two dogs that flanked the entrance to the altar room. She grinned as she ducked in between them, commending their accuracy. Once she was inside, she sucked in a deep breath, mingling with the women around her. They were of all ages and class, some dripping in jewelry and others in simply spun robes. Women lounged on cushions on the floor or knelt in prayer at the apex of the room, lightning candles and additional sticks of incense and clumps of scented resin to amplify their requests. Hecate always debated whether to tell them she heard them all, incense or not, but she did so love the way it smelled. Her heart was eased in the familiarity of a setting that she knew, leaving her concerns outside.
She had admitted to Aeëtes that it was a self-imposed fear that her acolytes wouldn’t support her having a partner. Yet, the thought crossed her mind as she sat amongst them.
Let’s limit our excuses to maybe one or two at a time.It was Hermes’s voice that she heard chastising her in her head, as if he was there. Hecate was content to push the matter aside for the rest of the day until she stumbled into a woman on her left and everything within her ceased up.
She grabbed the woman’s waist to keep them both from falling, and as soon as she initiated the touch, a long stream of the woman’s prayers began flooding Hecate’s mind.
He is a wonderful man. A very kind man.
He’s never here.
He is a blessing.
I do not want to marry him.
Goddess, please. I cannot bear this; both of our hearts will break. I do not want to marry him. If he only looked at me long enough to talk to me, I could tell him.
