Page 9 of Chaos and Crowns

Odelle twisted a lock of hair around her finger.

“We would still need to get you to see the crown though, so you could tell if it’s something the Shadows might be after. You’d need a cover to come with me.” Odelle looked Antony up and down. “I’d have you pose as a camera man, but you would probably end up taking the camera apart.”

Antony had the audacity to look excited at the prospect of dissecting equipment.

“Couldn’t I be an antiquities expert working on the story with you? It wouldn’t technically be a lie.”

“The best lie is the truth,” Odelle conceded. “I’ll need to build you an identity, make you seem legit. What’s your last name?”

“I don’t have one.”

Odelle blinked. “Are you just so iconic that you only need one name, like Madonna or Beyonce?”

“I don’t know who those people are,” Antony admitted. “Last names weren’t common when I was born. People would say who their fathers were, or where they were from. In the Eteria, though, we were each other’s family, and that was enough.”

“Well then, you are from Greece. Why don’t we pick a traditional Greek last name for you?”

Antony clapped a hand to his chest. “Excuse me, I am Athenian.”

“Current day, Athens is in Greece,” Odelle argued. “Ok, choose an Athenian last name.”

Antony drummed his fingers on his collarbone as he contemplated.

“Why not just Athenos?” he asked.

“I’m pretty sure that is a brand of feta cheese,” Odelle admitted, “but it should work fine. You are now Antony Athenos. Nice alliteration. I’ll come up with some credentials for you, maybe even draw up a business card. You just bring your knowledge of Greek—or Athenian, antiquities and try not to act too weird.”

Antony frowned.

“Actually,” Odelle amended, “A little weird is ok. Most history experts are a bit eccentric. Look at Nora.”

“Does that mean I can wear my chiton?” Antony looked hopefully at the pile of folded purple and silver cloth on the kitchen counter.

Maybe showing up in classical garb would sell the eccentric antiquities expert bit, but Odelle doubted that wealthy philanthropists would jump to let a pants-less man poke around their belongings.

“No, we’ll have to get you something professional to wear.” Odelle started to twirl her hair between her fingers again but stopped herself before she could irrevocably separate the one lock that she chronically fiddled with from her styled bob. They could go shopping, but something about picking out clothes for Antony struck her as intolerably domestic. Something she would do for a person she knew and cared for—not for somebody she was desperately trying to keep at arm’s length.

Odelle pulled out her cellphone, scrolling through the contacts before finding the one she wanted.

“I think Drew is off today. He’ll be able to help you with menswear better than I will,” Odelle lied. If left to his own devices, Drew wouldn’t wear anything besides scrubs or flannels with jeans. Still, he was familiar with the oddities of the Eteria and would ensure that Antony at least had pants.

True to form, Drew rang the buzzer less than an hour after Odelle texted him begging for assistance. She sprang to her feet and rushed to answer the door, grateful for the reprieve from Antony’s presence. They had passed the time with Antony poking around Odelle’s apartment and asking her seemingly endless questions about modern life.

“What’s this?”

“A can opener.”

Antony turned the lever and watched the gears rotate pensively before putting it back in the drawer. His attention turned to a wine glass, which he turned this way and that to examine. Staring at Antony’s nimble fingers manipulating the delicate stem made Odelle wish she had her own glass of wine right then.

“At what speed was this glass tempered to ensure its structural integrity?”

“I have no clue,” Odelle admitted, much more equipped to simply identify household objects.

Now, she was grateful to have a moment to breathe as she trudged downstairs to let Drew in. After an hour of observing Antony’s fascination with the world around him, Odelle had begun to relax, even to find his wonder endearing. It had taken constant reminders of how Antony really felt about her to keep him from charming her with his curiosity. She had mistaken his playful manner with romantic interest before, but she wouldn’t make the same mistake again—wouldn’t let him trick her with that dreamy smile.

Odelle ushered Drew into the building and out of the blustery winter air. He greeted her with a sideways hug, a quick squeeze of his strong arm around her shoulders.

“You said there was some Eteria business you needed help with? I’m not used to being called for help for anything besides stitching people up when magical herbs aren’t doing the trick,” Drew joked.