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She rinsed her mouth out and brushed her teeth. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she saw a pink-cheeked woman of twenty-one with pale brown hair partly braided into a crown, partly down and curling. Midnight blue eyes, just like her father. Annoyingly large breasts, just like her mother. A tiny gap between her top two front teeth.
It was her. Not anyone but Lady Ophelia Godwick, Lia to her friends.
What the hell had just happened?
The kylix. August. The world turning inside out.
The rock. The monster. Perseus.
She’d married Perseus and they’d made love. Twice. She could still feel his hands on her breasts, hear his laughing voice, his cock inside her, his come...
His come.
Panicking, Lia slipped her hand under her dress and pushed her fingers into her knickers. She was wet. Extremely wet, like she always was after having an orgasm. She pulled her hand out of her pants and looked at the wet shimmer on her fingertips. Only her wetness. No semen.
And she felt...normal? Not like she’d had sex with someone. She knew what that felt like, even though it had been a long time.
All right. So whatever had happened, she was pretty sure she hadn’t actually had sex with August Bowman. But something had happened between them.
Where was August?
Lia stumbled into the sitting room. “August?”
No answer. She saw the Rose Kylix sitting on the fireplace mantel, next to her statue of Aphrodite that August had yet again turned to the wall.
Under the kylix was a note.
Lia—
The disorientation will pass quickly and you’ll be feeling on top of the world very soon. I’ve left you the Rose Kylix as it is legally yours, but please, I beg of you, do not drink from it again. It’s very unsafe to drink from it alone. I’ll explain more if you’ll see me again. Apologies for leaving you. There’s a side effect to drinking from the cup that I thought we ought to avoid.
I have to say, I loved playing Perseus to your Andromeda. We should have made the bird noises.
Love,
August
Bird noises.
August knew about the bird noises.
That meant she hadn’t dreamed it. Two people couldn’t have the same dream.
It had happened. It was real.
But it couldn’t be. It just...couldn’t.
Yet, what if it was?
Lia read the rest of the note.
PS: The Moirai, otherwise known as the Three Fates, who weave our destinies just as you weave stories on your loom, have a bad habit of getting their threads tangled sometimes. The thread of your life and the thread of mine are knotted together for reasons unknown to me. Don’t fight fate, Lia. You will not win.
Lia jumped when she heard a sudden knock on her door. She put the cup back into the box and went to answer it.
“Yes?” she called out. Her mother poked her head into Lia’s sitting room.
“Darling? You all right? You’ve been gone almost an hour.”
