4
Exiting the shop, I stroll down familiar streets filled with stalls of all different varieties.
Carts filled with warm food, steaming beverages, spools of ribbons, yards of fine fabric, carved wood trinkets and more line the streets.
All hoping to catch the eye of the market goers.
A stall filled with spelled amulets advertised to keep the gods away is only feet away. Giving the conniving salesman a wide berth, I avert my gaze to anywhere but his cart.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as a man mirrors my movements. Never letting me get too far ahead of him.
When I walk, he matches my speed.
When I stop at a stall, he follows my lead. Aimlessly stopping at a cart only ten feet away from me. Taking care for us to never stop at the same stall.
A chill ran across my spine. I’m being followed.
I catch another glance of the shadowy figure under a streetlamp. He looks sharp, tall, tanned, and dressed in all black. His blond hair lightly curled and eyes like amber.
The man from the shop.
The cool wind cuts through my clothes directly to my skin. Pulling my father’s cloak closer, I shuffled through the stalls. Watching and waiting for my moment to slip away from this stranger.
Before last summer, I would’ve wondered if dad’s paranoia was contagious… Now, I see my newly found fear as being justified.
Moving along to the next stall over, I see seed packets stacked neatly in the cart.
Maybe I just need to give my follower time to pass me by.
“Hello.” I nod to the elderly man.
He returns my nod. Not bothering to reply with words.
Great conversation.
Fingering through the neatly filed seeds, I look over his wares. Asparagus, lettuce, and more. “Do you have any daffodil seeds?”
I wish I could’ve held onto the daffodils from that day this past summer. Then I wouldn’t need to spend money on them. But sprinting out of the forest like a shade out of Hades, I know that bag is lost to the woods.
Sighing loudly, he stood. Hunched over, he cracks his back. “Oh yes. I do have some daffodils somewhere. give me a couple of moments.”
He riffles through his many paper packs for several minutes. Eventually he stretches holding a couple of packages.
“Looks like I have three sets. Would you like the whole lot?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Yes please.” I beam.
“Three bronze, one for each.” Smiling, I pull out my coin pouch and count out my coins, handing them to the merchant. “What’re you planning on doing with them?
“Planting. What else would I do with daffodils?” I grin as he hands me the brown packets.
The merchant watches me with a perplexed look. “You know what these symbolize, yes?”
When buying flowers, I don’t owe anyone any explanations. I put on a forced smile.
“They’re flowers. Therefore, they can mean whatever we want them to mean,” I tuck them in my bag. Giving him a curt nod, “Thank you.”
Turning around, the stranger and I stand face to face, a flicker of surprise passes across his features which is quickly replaced by a sheepish expression. His cheeks flushed with a tinge of embarrassment. He stammers incoherently.
“Can I help you?” I press my tongue into my cheek not caring to hide my annoyance. “You’ve been following me for some time now.”
He turns to look behind him and I smack his chest. “Yep, talking to you.”
Pressing my fists on my hips, I narrow my eyes on him. Today isn’t a day to get on my bad side.
“Well, erm—” Stammered the stranger. A solid blush crawling over his face. Yup, dressed smart but left his wits at home.
I raise an eyebrow as I wait for a proper explanation. His awkwardness only heightens my suspicions. The crowd bustling around us fades into the background as my attention remains focused on the enigmatic stranger before me. Something about him feels out of place in this festive atmosphere.
The golden-haired man finally finds his voice and offers a tentative response. “I- I- I apologize. It’s just that… well you seemed familiar to me. Have we met before?”
His question catches me off guard. Narrowing my eyes, I take him in. “You mean, before or after you disrespected Agatha in her own apothecary?”
The man grimaces. “Before.”
Sighing loudly, I mutter to myself Amber eyes and blond hair isn’t exactly a combo easily forgotten. “No, I don’t believe that we’ve met. I would remember someone with your color of eyes,” I reply.
“Likewise,” he replies. “Which is why I thought we have met before my little sunflower.”
Scrunching my nose in revulsion, I take a step back. His little pet name felt so possessive of a name to give to a complete stranger. My voice laced with caution. “Regardless, I don’t appreciate being tailed by someone. You know what day it is.”
“You’re right of course, I should’ve just asked immediately.” Fidgeting with his many rings on his hands, the stranger coughs to clear his throat. Cautiously, he raised his hands. “Anyways, while I got you here, I think I have myself all turned around. I was looking for a local to help me navigate this town… it’s different from the city that I”m used to.”
Narrowing my eyes, I take him in. “A city? Where are you from?” I was not aware of any cities for many leagues.
The golden-haired man examines me before answering, “Mount Cynthus, it’s an average sized city near–”
“Near the coast.” I purse my lips. “Yes, I have heard of it. Sorry, I can’t help you.” Not bothering to give him a reason. After all, he doesn’t need one. We’re strangers. I owe him nothing.
Turning away, I attempted to move quickly to a different area of the festival, but I was not quick enough. His massive hands wrapped are my slender wrists. “Please. You”re a local, are you not?”
”Let. Go. Of. Me.” I order sternly
The man doesn’t release me.
Glaring I spat, “Who do you think you are?
”I”m Lord Phoebus of Mount Cynthus, and it would be an honor to have someone as lovely as you to give me a tour of the town.” He almost seemed meek and uncertain of his request, completely at odds with his actions.
Interesting. My face probably says it all. Internally, I”m not sure if I believe him. Nothing about his presentation seems comforting. “I”m not your servant. Go find yourself a tour guide.”
Would a lord be left to his own devices in the middle of a town? That’s a recipe to get robbed blind by people down on their luck.
“Please, my maiden. It would be an honor to escort a lord around your beautiful city,” the supposed ‘Lord of Cynthus’ impresses upon me. Something in my gut tells me that he isn’t truthful, but why would anyone need to lie about something as trivial as that?
This man can”t seem to take a hint. How much blunter do I need to be for this to get through to him?
”An honor, you say?” I reply sarcastically. Hardly able to keep my eyes from rolling my eyes from his inflated self-worth. “Well Lord Phoebus of Mount Cynthus, forgive me if I don’t feel particularly honored by your presence.”
Wait a minute…Is he trying to make a pass at me?Gaia, horny men will do anything and be anyone to get laid.
“Good luck in finding a tour guide.” The snarkiness in my voice almost bled into the air around us.
The Lord’s brow furrows. “Won’t you take me on a tour? It should be an honor for someone from your station.”
And there he goes again. This guy needs to learn how to take a hint. The man needs to learn that he isn’t the gods greatest gift since olives.
Biting back my annoyance, I glare at him. Resisting the urge to strike him across the face. “I suggest you find someone else. In the future, I suggest you learn how not to tell others to feel about your presence.” I storm down the street, blending into the crowds.
Rushing past the thick crowd, I aim to put as much distance between us as possible.
Looking back, he was nowhere to be found.
Good.
Finally, he’s leaving me alone.
The smell of foreign spices, sugar, buttery rolls, and other delicious aroma of other baked goods makes my stomach growl.
But there’s one stand that I avoid. Leaving a wide berth.
The baklava stand makes my heart ache.
Every year, dad and I would make it from scratch. The thin pastry seemed like something so little back then. Back before I lost him.
In years past, I would try and make up any excuse not to have to get up before Apollo himself and make the dessert. Sure, it was tasty, but back then I valued my sleep.
Now, I would give anything to bake baklava or just have a few more moments with him.
Tears threaten to spill down my face as I push on. Putting as much space between me and the cart as I could.
I miss him so much.
A vision threatens the edge of my mind.
Not right now.
Burying the thoughts deep inside me, I wished I could silence the guilt and the pain. But nothing helps. Once on a spiral, I need to ride it out to be rid of it. Otherwise, the pressure just keeps on building.
When I came to town, I was bloodied. My clothes ripped from the thorns and brambles.
I hate remembering the summer solstice. Not only had I lost dad, but I have someone who haunts my soul.
Everything I did that day, I did wrong. I lied to the people of the town, I caused dad to get taken, and none of us searched for him.
I dared not tell anyone that the gods took him. All because I’m a coward.
If the town knew it was a god that stole dad, I would be sacrificed to the Veil.
Father would never have wanted that.
Instead, I came in shouting of a wolf attack.
The unnamed god truly felt like a wolf. How he circled us. Analyzing dad. Looking for the most opportune moment to strike.
Every time I rest, I see the god with those eyes as haunting as storm clouds haunting my dreams.
My heart rate quickens at the thought.
I need something to distract myself. Anything.
Ordering a drink of wine, I pull off the beaten path toward a set of tables.
Wine to calm my nerves.
I need to sit down.
My heart rate quickens as I take a long sip of my wine.
Not here.
I’m not dreaming. I’m not even in the forest. I’m here. I’m fine.
But my reassurances can only go so far.
Those eyes.
Yet those damn eyes haunt my nightmares.
Sometimes I feel them piercing me like daggers. Often in my dreams.
My battle with my brain was futile as I blink away the pain.
Just like that and I was darting through the forest.
“What are you running from, darling?!” hollers the god who is far too close for comfort.
He is hot on my heels.
“Give up now and I’ll let you live out your days in comfort,” he shouts. “In a palace fit for a Queen of the gods.”
My heart pounding like rocks falling off the hillside.
The god’s fingertips scrap my skin. Narrowly missing a grasp on me before I pull away once more.
Jumping over fallen trunks, ducking under branches, and through streams.
“No god has ever been outrun by a mortal,” warns the god. “If you don’t stop, I will run you into the ground.”
“Gaia, please help me,” I beg as I run. Pleading for mercy. “Don’t let him catch me.”
A break in the woods reveals my town.
So close.
Just a bit further.
Then I’ll be safe in town.
If I can’t make town, Gaia, please turn me into a tree or a flower or anything.
“Stop! Give back what you took from me and I’ll leave you alone,” the god growls.
Liar.
Not only did I take nothing from any god, but he is irate enough that I’ll never be left to live in peace.
While I run, I hope. While I hope, I live. While I live, I run.
The god’s hot breath on my throat.
Shadowed fingers locking around my neck. Yanking me down.
Pressed into the ground, the god pins me to the unwavering earth. My breath quickens. One of his hands clamped down on my wrist while the other never leaves my throat.
Blue eyes glare at me from under his hood. “Big mistake.” His voice is deep and rumbling.
“Let me go,” I rasp.
“Never again,” he warns me. Pressing me harder into the earth. My body sinks lower and lower into the ground. I choke on the dirt forcing its way into my lungs.
My world is consumed by a never-ending darkness.
Surrounded by the thundered laughter of my captor.
“Pandora.” The deep voice could be easily heard over the fiddles, flutes, lyres, accordions, and the menagerie of other assorted instruments.“Are you quite all right?”
Looks like my stalker has returned. Great. the cherry on top.
I should’ve just stayed home today.
“Fine,” I murmur as I rub my temples. “Just a bit of a dizzy spell and needed to sit down.”
Wait a minute… Pandora. How did he know my name? I rake through my mind. Thinking back to our conversation, I don’t remember telling my name.
Did Agatha say it earlier? Maybe he just overhead me.
“You look quite pale,” he replies. His voice full of worry. “Stay right here. I’ll get you something to eat to help you settle.”
“Thank you,” I reply softly.
Odd. This man first insults Agatha, tails me through the market, demands I give him a tour, and now is worried about my health.
Gods, is this a lucid dream?
Maybe I was being too harsh on him earlier… Or maybe this would be a good time to make my escape.
Turning slightly, I look in the direction the man.
Gold eyes focus intently on me. Full of concern.
Whelp looks like I won’t be able to escape this one. Taking a sip of my wine, I stare forward. Shutting my eyes, I curse at my damn mind. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t escape these visions.
“Here you go.” Phoebus returned with a bag of fluffy fried bread and cheesy dipping sauce. Taking a seat, he looked massive. The chair wasn’t meant for someone as large as he is. “I hope this will be okay.”
Grinning, I nod. “Thank you.” Dipping one into the warm sauce, I toss it into my mouth. The salted bread was fresh and warm.
Leaning forward, Phoebus selects one of the pieces for himself. Taking a moment, he eyes it suspiciously before tossing it into his mouth.
“Have you not had a soft pretzel before?” Smiling, I ask between pieces.
“Never,” he confirms. “I have had a sheltered life.”
“The Lord of Mount Cynthus having lived a sheltered life? I never would’ve guessed.” I laugh.
The man shrugs with a crooked smile. “It comes with the territory.”
Glancing up from my hands in my lap, I take in the strange man.
His golden eyes meet mine. My breath catches in my throat. The look in his eyes is devastating. Making my insides melt with an intensity that I haven’t experienced before.
He’s dark, dashing, and dangerous with a fiery spirit.
“It”s good to see the color coming back to your face,” he adds softly. With a gentleness that seems unnatural for a man of his stature.
“Thanks to you.” I nod in his direction.
Maybe my blood sugar was low or something.
“We got off on a bad foot,” announces the man. “Perhaps we could start over?”
This man is persistent.
“Sure.” I nod. “My name is Pandora.”
As I reach for my wine, the man snatches my hand. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips into my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Pandora. My name is Lord Phoebus of Mount Cynthus.”
“Nice to meet you.” I smile as I ask, “What are you doing so far from home?”
Phoebus shrugged. “I was looking for a change of scenery. Life was feeling monotonous.”
“I feel that.” Grimacing, I think back to the days where everything felt the same.
Every day I would get up before the rising of the sun and head out into the forest. Moving the traps from out of the veil and back home once more. Then out to the garden. For a couple of hours, I would tend our crops. Only then to go back out to the woods with dad.
“You’re familiar with monotony?” he confirms.
I nod.
“…Have you ever thought about shaking things up?” He raises a suggestive eyebrow. “Like leaving your home and discovering a new world?”
Laughter escapes my lips. “Not everyone can just get up and leave. My family depends on me.”
“Why not?” he questions.
Pressing my lips into a tight line, I think through his question.
What is really holding me back?
Other than Celeste and Agatha, I’m not sure that I would want to stay here. Though it”s not like I’d have anywhere else to go.
Gaia, I bet my stepmom and aunt would love it if I left them. The only thing that would make them balk is that I’m their main source of food.
Perhaps leaving wouldn’t be so bad… But then again, there’s dad. What if I left and he returned home? “I can’t leave,” I reply simply.
He nods. “Maybe you just need a bit of adventure. Something new, something different.” Shooting me a cheeky grin. “Let’s take it slow. How about a dance?”
Internally, I groan. I hate dancing.
Turning, I look around us. “But no one is dancing.”
“No matter.” He stands and extends his hand in my direction. “Take a chance, be daring.”
Daring. I am daring.
“Sure.” I take his hand. Maybe it’s my time to make my own adventure.
The man leads me toward the musicians who are nestled against a building.
Dancing always makes me feel self-conscious, especially when the eyes of the town are glued to me. Taking in the stranger at my side.
As we danced, the rhythm of the music carried us along. Phoebus’s movements are fluid and graceful. Despite my initial hesitation, I find myself slowly releasing my concerns, allowing the music to sweep me away.
The eyes of the town followed our every step. Their whispers blend into the music. The world around us fades into the background, leaving the two of us in this moment. Phoebus’s expression changes subtly from arrogance to a genuine smile.
As we spin and twirl, I felt a bond forming between me and this stranger.
Being with him was an odd mixture of intrigue and familiarity. The more we dance, the more I find myself drawn to him.
With each spin, the spell is strengthened. Bringing us closer to one another.
The music reaches its crescendo and we gracefully come to a halt. He held me in his arms, the warmth of his touch lingering on my skin. For a moment, time seems to stand still.
But as quickly as our spell was woven, it was broken. Gently I disentangle myself from his grasp and take a step back.
“I appreciate the dance,” I reply. My voice sounds breathy. “But it’s time for me to go home.”
“Please.” The man jumps. Not willing to let me leave yet. “Let’s sneak away to the woods. I have heard the woods are lovely at this time of night.”
My voice is firm as I stand my ground and the intensity in his eyes only fuels my determination. “No. It’s dangerous.”
A stroll through the dark woods… With a near stranger.
Being daring can only go so far.
Phoebus’s expression shifts to reveal a mix of frustration and disbelief. Taken aback by my refusal as if he isn’t accustomed to being denied. “Are you scared?” Curiosity fills his voice.
“My dad died in the forest. Dragged away by a monster.” My voice dropped low. “Of course I’m scared.”
“So, you’ve not been back to the woodland since?” Phoebus clarifies. Raising a disbelieving arched eyebrow.
Pressing my lips into a stiff line, I reply, “No, I can’t say that.”
“Why not?” He shoots me an arched eyebrow.
My body feels numb as I think about the woods. “My family still needed to eat.”
“Which is why you’ll be accompanying me to the forest.” It was not a request, but a demand that sent a chill rolling down my spine.
“What? Are you planning to eat me? Now I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” His irritation was no longer masked by his frustration.
Once again snatching a hold of my hand hard, he lugs me toward the forest. I jerk my hand away and leave toward my home. “Stop, I”m going home, and you won’t follow me!” I ordered. I knew there was no way that I could prevent him from following, but I still made the effort.
“Come into the woods with me, now!” he orders.
I state simply, “No.”
“But you can’t say no!” Phoebus becomes more and more frantic, crazed, and confused.
“No.”
“Stop that, you can’t say that my little sunflower,” he says as his voice drops low. A timber which raises the hair on the back of my neck. The golden eyed one furrows his brows, glaring at me.
I roll my eyes. “No. This is the tenth time that I have told you this. My answer is the same as before and won’t change.” Feistily, I glare at him as though unphased when my knees feel wobbly and my hands are shaky.
“You’ll soon learn, my dear, that you don’t say no to a god.”
In a flash, I was on my back. A scream caught in my throat. Frozen in place from fear or magic. Perhaps even a combination of the two.
Phoebus lay flush against me. Pressing me firmly to the ground. We were chest to chest. Torso to torso. I could feel him and his excitement. His excitement infuriates me. He is getting off by the thrill, the magic, and my fear.
Pinned to the ground, I stare up at the man like he is a wolf, waiting for the opportune time to feast on its prey.
My lungs forgot how to function.
My hands shake as I’m pinned to the ground by a god.
Terror burns in me.
The smell of bonfire spreads around us. Like when the winds change around the fire and the smoke threatens to smother you. My eyes water from the smell. My throat is scratchy.
This must be magic, and I hate it.
“Sorry my little mouse,” Phoebus whispers softly into my ear. “But I’m afraid that you’ve plans with a lion tonight.”
I want to growl back at him. To spit in his face, to do anything. But the noise catches in my throat.
My voice pulled from my lips until only silence remained.
Gaia, help me.
Frantic people swirl around, looking in my direction. Not looking at me.
Why were the villagers staring around the crowd?
Look at me.
But no matter how much I wished, no one saw me.
Something is wrong.
Help me,I plead in my mind.
“Time for an adventure.” His well-trimmed beard tickles my ears and throat. Grabbing at his pocket, he grabs a pouch and sprinkles the opalescent powder on my face.
I tried to dodge the falling but I had no wiggle room with how he pinned me. At first contact with the powder, I didn’t feel a thing. Then it hit. A wave of tiredness. I attempt to blink away the exhaustion, but my eyes feel like they’re being weighed down by bricks. I shake myself awake. I knew I couldn’t stave it off for long.
The flash of blinding rainbows is the last thing I see before sleep takes me.