CHAPTER TEN #2
‘Why not?’ he asks, settling on the kline beside me.
He reaches for a bowl of olives, and I find myself watching him pluck one out and pop it between his lips.
It’s a fine mouth, I note, his whole face drawn with keen precision – the dip of his upper lip, the slope of his brows, the slight cleft of his chin and –
Oh no. No, I thought we drowned horny Ariadne after the mess she got us into. Hasn’t Theseus proved I can’t be trusted with a pretty face? And where he was ruggedly handsome, Dionysus is oh so pretty.
He’s looking at me, expecting an answer, and so I shrug. ‘I don’t think I’ve been adequately hydrated at any point on this island. Wine didn’t seem sensible.’
Dionysus smiles wickedly and leans in closer. ‘Oh, but where’s the fun in sensible?’
Is this it? His whole shtick as a god – to encourage recklessness and the pursuit of pleasure because he’s so uncaged by any sort of responsibility or expectation or passion beyond passion itself? How uninteresting.
I turn my attention back to where it belongs: the food. And I pile a plate high.
‘So, Areatha, how did you end up here on Naxos?’
‘Naxos?’
‘You might know it as Dia? Come, you must know where you are.’
I shake my head. ‘There was a storm. It capsized the ship I travelled on.’
Dionysus waits, and I feel his expectation shift to suspicion.
I blink a few times, trying to chalk up my lack of details to the distress. ‘I think everyone on the ship died.’
I wish.
‘Is that how you were injured?’ He nods to my shoulder. The wound is weeks old now, but poorly tended. It’s a divot carved into my skin; the scar is dark and ragged, shining bright from the heat that had pressed there.
I nod. ‘Something struck me as the ship broke apart.’
He hums – soft and thoughtful, and I don’t like it one bit.
‘Where were you headed?’
‘Mycenae.’
Where Charis is. It’s the first place that springs to mind.
‘Well, we can take you on to your destination if you’d like,’ he says, then arches a wry brow. ‘Though I should warn you, few choose to leave my company once they’ve been acquainted with it.’
Oh, I’m sure. This is what Theseus did, isn’t it? That assured confidence with every flirtatious utterance. And me, desperate enough to believe it.
I smile as inoffensively as possible. ‘Taking me to Mycenae would be wonderful, thank you.’
He laughs at the dismissal. ‘We shall see, Areatha. We shall see. What are you planning on doing in Mycenae anyway?’
‘There’s a temple there,’ I say, a touch too quickly. ‘I’m a priestess.’
Dionysus gapes. ‘A priestess didn’t even recognize me as a god?
’ He puts his cup heavily down upon the table.
He’s joking but there’s definitely an edge of something real there.
‘I’m worse at this than I thought. Bad luck to end up here, though.
If you’d made it to the other side of the island, you’d have been within sight of Delos and they’re always clamouring for more people to work the temples. Who do you serve?’
‘Helios,’ I say – though admittedly my knowledge of him is limited to god of the sun, unresponsive grandfather and decidedly unhelpful when you wash up on an abandoned island.
‘Even Helios has temples? I would have thought he was on the out now Apollo gets to drag his precious sun about each morning.’
I wouldn’t be too jealous, Dionysus, his lineage isn’t exactly faring well.
Instead of answering, I take a final bite of the bread.
‘At any rate, we’ll be here for a short while,’ Dionysus says, raising his cup back to his lips for a long, slow sip. ‘We’ve travelled a long way to get here and we always look forward to our time on Naxos. Olympus only knows, my retinue deserve a break.’
Dionysus sets the cup down and rises to his feet. I pivot, unwilling to turn my back on him. But then me lying on the kline while he stands reminds me of waking up in Theseus’s bed, so without thinking I jump to my feet too – and then he’s a little too close.
‘If you’re running from something, Areatha, you’re safe here.
We’re hosting a revelry on the next island over tomorrow.
You may be able to find a ship in the port of Cabarnis, or there might even be a temple on the island that suits you.
Or if it’s Mycenae you want, we’ll take you when we’re done here.
You can even go back to the huts if you’d like, and I’ll alert you when we’re ready to leave.
But you’re welcome among us. Though, it should be noted, my following are rather unconventional.
I don’t take kindly to anyone harassing or otherwise making someone feel unsafe because they disagree with some satyr’s decision to wander off to a tent without taking marriage vows first or because a maenad prefers sticking her tongue down another woman’s throat.
I trust none of that will be a problem, should you choose to remain? ’
‘Not a problem,’ I say sharply – even though it should be. Even though that alone is tantamount to confession.
‘No?’ He arches a coy brow. ‘Most priestesses would be scandalized. Flustered.’
‘Do you want me flustered?’
He leans back against the table, a smirk unfurling lazily across his lips.
‘If I did, Areatha, you’d know it.’ My skin prickles under his gaze, but my fingers twitch with fury.
I feel like he’s playing with me. Like I amuse him.
Then again, he behaves as though the whole world were something thoroughly entertaining.
‘Very well, priestess, keep your mysteries. But know I find them thoroughly intriguing.’
‘I aim to please,’ I deadpan.
That smile deepens, and he takes a step closer. How confident is he? How many times does he give this spiel? Flutters his long lashes, smiles that wicked grin and teases chaos, until whoever he seeks is ensnared?
‘When I say you’re welcome to join, darling, I do mean in anything and everything you wish.’
‘Oh?’ I ask, batting my eyelashes right back and hoping it passes for a confused blink.
It draws him in at any rate, his gaze heady as he takes me in.
‘You may see licentious things. Perhaps even depraved things. You may not care for it. But if you find yourself excited … if there is anyone who intrigues you …’ He is so close I can feel the words on my skin. ‘Know this is a place where that is celebrated.’
I make my eyes big and wide and innocent. ‘Are you going to corrupt me, Lord Dionysus?’
My voice is breathy, and his gaze drops to my lips.
‘Corruption? Only those who rule by fear see freedom as a fall.’ He meets my eyes slowly, like the journey from my lips is a long, languid graze. ‘Tell me, are you flustered now, priestess?’
Oh, you bastard. He flirts like it’s just another amusement, like he might not truly care if I respond or not.
But the parallel is clear: just another lascivious would-be hero – only this one is at least making it perfectly apparent that the only interest he has in me is removing my clothes.
I imagine he’d discard me just as easily after, to go and lower those lids for someone else until he sates that need to conquer and claim.
I lean into Dionysus slowly – until his eyes close. Until he tilts his head to the side and …
‘I think I’ll pass,’ I say, pushing him back and wishing I didn’t feel just how solid his chest was beneath my hands.
His eyes shoot open. He looks … dazed. I catch a glint as he realizes he’s been played and I have to bite down on a smile of my own. I’ve had quite enough of self-important men. I want to knock them down and leave them floundering.
‘Let me know when you’re ready to leave Naxos.’
I don’t wait for him to say anything in reply, I just leave him there – dishevelled and thrown, wondering if his heart is racing as quickly as mine.