Chapter 11
The next time I opened my eyes the ceiling was giving off its weird daylight glow, the stars gone. What time was it? I made a mental note to ask Hecate how to keep time as I swung my legs out of bed.
I was wearing a silky camisole top and matching shorts that I'd found in the wardrobe, and as weird as it was going to bed in what felt like someone else's clothes, they felt divine against my skin.
I sat down at the dressing table and peered at my reflection.
The make-up Hecate had put on me yesterday was gone, and my now white hair was hanging loose past my shoulders, only a slight curl left in it.
But the tiny braids were still scattered throughout the bright locks.
I gathered it all up into a ponytail without brushing it, and used a band on the dresser to secure it in a messy bun.
My eyes still looked more green, and my cheekbones more angular. It was weird, and maybe just my imagination after defeating a demon skeleton yesterday, but I looked more fierce. More competent. Would Ted Hammond and all those brats at school have been so cruel if I'd looked like this back then?
Probably.
There was a knock at the door and I turned my head. How did they know I was awake? I scanned the room suspiciously. What are you expecting to find, secret cameras? In a world that uses iron fire dishes instead of TVs? Get a grip, Persy. Just roll with the punches. You'll be home in no time.
“Yes?” I called.
“Can I come in?” came a woman's voice from the other side of the door. It was a husky, sensual voice, and I immediately felt conscious of my silky PJs.
“Erm, yeah,” I said, standing up. The door creaked open and a voluptuous woman backed in, holding two steaming mugs. My lips parted involuntarily as she turned fully to me and smiled.
She had thick dark hair that looked like it would be heaven to touch, deep laughing brown eyes that gleamed with fun, and lips that looked... well nothing like any lips I'd ever seen. There was no better word for them than kissable.
“Apparently humans are into coffee in the morning,” she said, and passed me a mug with a smile. “I'm Hedone.”
“Hi,” I stammered. “I'm Persephone.” She nodded and sat down on the end of my bed, cupping the mug.
“Hecate is busy most of today, so she asked me to start prepping you for the masquerade ball.”
“Do you, er, help everyone out?”
She gave a tinkling laugh.
“No. But I think you're rather special, and I owe Hecate a favor.”
“Why do you think I'm special?” I asked, taking a small sip of coffee. It was utterly amazing, way better than anything we served at Easy Espresso.
“A couple reasons. I have a soft spot for humans, but more than that, I've not long taken part in some Trials of my own.” Her eyes darkened, her husky voice hardening a little. “The Immortality Trials. They were tough, and I would like to help an underdog,” she said, looking at me.
“Underdog, huh,” I sighed, sitting down too.
I wondered if Hedone was one of the few who knew I'd supposedly already been married to Hades.
I didn't want to tell her if I wasn't supposed to, although it was almost impossible not to trust her.
That was her power though. Goddess of pleasure, remember?
“Did you win your Trials?” I asked her.
“I'd rather not talk about it,” she said simply.
“Now, we have a lot to go over. Hecate said you needed some help with your clothes and make-up, then there's Olympian etiquette to cover, charm and graciousness after that, and we've all the logistics of the ball to plan.
We'll need to look at the guest list, and try to anticipate what problems might be thrown your way. You'll also be having combat lessons.”
“For the ball?”
“Of course.”
“Why would I need to fight at a ball?”
“This is no ordinary ball, Persephone,” she said.
“Call me Persy,” I told her automatically. She smiled.
“This is a test to see if you are capable of holding the position of Queen of the Underworld. Politics and combat go hand-in-hand. You need to prove your ability to hold your own, support your husband and represent your realm. Social events have been at the root of almost every serious fight between the gods for centuries. They are of the utmost importance.”
“Oh,” I said. It kind of made sense that one of the Trials would be a party when she put it like that. “That doesn't really sound like my sort of thing.”
“No? You don't like parties?”
“Or politics. I like gardens.”
Her pretty face creased into a frown.
“You're in the wrong place then,” she said. “There aren't many gardens in Virgo.”
My heart sank as she spoke. I mean, I'd already suspected as much, but it still sucked to hear it.
“Are there any plants anywhere?”
“To be honest, I don't spend much time here, apart from with Morpheus, but I'll ask him to come and see you. He knows this place like back of his hand. Now, let's teach you how to do something better than...” she paused and looked at my hair with an awkward frown, “well, better than that.”
“Will you show me how to do whatever Hecate did with my eyes that made them super green?” I asked her, a little over-eagerly. Hedone gave a tinkling chuckle.
“I think we may make a party-goer out of you yet,” she grinned.
We spent three full hours in the windowless bedroom, going over how to get fine black lines drawn around my eyes, creating fuller looking lips with tiny crayons, and how to get a gentle curl set into my white hair.
At home I would never have allowed myself to spend so much time on such things.
I mean, it wasn't like I left my apartment looking like a bag of shit, I always found time to swipe on a bit of mascara and make my cheeks a little less pale, but I'd never committed this much time to learning how to make myself look good.
I'd once watched an online video tutorial for French braiding but I'd only lasted ten minutes before I wanted to throw my laptop out of the window, screaming about impossible fucking hairstyles. But Hedone made it easy to learn somehow.
“There you go,” she said, as I secured the last piece of what I now knew was called a “Crown braid' to my head. It was essentially a plait that kept my hair back from my face more stylishly and securely than my crappy bun. It reminded me of Athena's and I loved it. “I told you you could do it.”
I beamed at her, aware that I looked like a small child receiving praise, but not really caring.
“What's next?”
“Lunch, but not with me,” she answered, tweaking my braid slightly. “I have to go now.”
Unease at being left alone skittered through me.
“OK. Well, thanks for all your help.”
“That's OK. I'll be back this evening to go through feasting etiquette.”
“Does that mean we'll be eating a feast?” I asked hopefully.
“Yes. So go easy on lunch. See you later,” she said, and let herself out of my room, closing the door behind her.
At least she didn't do the stupid bright-light vanishing thing, I thought, looking in the mirror. What was I going to do now? I stood up and looked at the wardrobe, deciding I should probably get dressed.
Just as I was deciding between a red pantsuit type get up with a low neckline, and the green dress I'd worn yesterday, a small excitable voice sounded behind me.
“Definitely the red one.” I spun around quickly, nearly dropping both outfits in surprise.
A gnome was standing on my bedroom floor, completely naked, grinning up at me.
“Who the hell are you?!”
“Skoptolis, at your service,” he bowed low, bending his three foot frame in half.
“At my service?”
“Well, technically, I'm here to guard you. I've no idea what from, but it beats what I was doing before.”
“You're my guard?” I gaped at the naked gnome. He had twinkling amber eyes, thick dark hair in a mess on top of his head with a matching beard, and massive feet. I did my best to avoid seeing if his other extremities were as large, but it was somewhat hard not to look.
“I sure am,” he said, rocking on his heels.
“Could you put some clothes on?”
“Nope.”
“Please?”
“No can do. Not allowed.”
“You're not allowed to wear clothes? Why not?”
“Dunno. Is it this that's causing the issue?” He thrust his hips forward, flicking himself at me and I spluttered as my cheeks reddened.
“Yes!”
“Ah. Does this help?” With a little pop, the gnome vanished, replaced by a dog. It was a small, terrier type dog, the same color as the gnome’s hair had been, and its amber eyes still gleamed with trouble.
“Skop...” I tried to remember the name he had told me.
“Skoptolis,” said a voice inside my head. This time I did drop the clothes in surprise at hearing its voice inside my skull. “Hello?” the voice said again, and I stared down at the dog wriggling out from under the green dress I'd just dropped on top of him. “Is this better?” He wagged his tail.
“Yes,” I said slowly, staring at him. “But...”
“If you want me to stay in an animal form, then I'll have to talk to you like this.”
“It's weird,” I said, frowning. “You're in my head.”
“Then I'll go back to my normal form—” he started, but I waved my hands.
“No! No, stay like that, please.” I'd rather a wagging tail than a wagging gnome knob. “What are you?” I asked him.
“A kobaloi.”
“Are you, by any chance, a randy sprite?”
“I have my moments,” he answered, tail wagging faster as he leaped up onto the bed beside me.
I automatically reached out to stroke his fur, then paused.
Was that weird? He's not actually a dog, he's a naked, hairy gnome, I reminded myself.
“If you put that red thing on, you'll find out just how randy I can be.” I snatched my hand back.
“Then I'll go with the green,” I muttered, scooping the clothes up off the floor as I stood up. I strode to the washroom with the green dress, and heard Skoptolis jump to the floor behind me. “Erm, where are you going?” I said, turning to him.
“I have to guard you.”
“In my own bathroom?”
“Yup.”
“No way.” The dog wagged its tail faster as I glared into his eyes.
“But you've seen all my bits and bobs,” he protested, his mental voice still light and laughing, like that damned feather I'd chosen.
“I don't care, you're not seeing mine!” I exclaimed.
“Please? I bet they're really nice.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Not a fucking chance,” I said sternly. “Now wait here, you pervert.”
“You can call me Skop,” he said, tail still wagging furiously.
“Whatever,” I grumbled and slammed the door shut behind me.
I stepped back out of my washroom in the green dress a few minutes later, and jumped when I saw Hecate sitting on the edge of my bed and scowling at Skop, who was back in naked gnome form.
“Dionysus is a jerk,” she said, looking up at me.
“Let me guess,” I grinned. “Don't tell him you said that.”
“Exactly,” she answered, with another grimace at Skop.
“I thought we'd agreed on something furry,” I said to him.
“I can make this furry if you want,” he beamed, reaching down.
“Put that the fuck away!” snapped Hecate, and the kobaloi gave an infectious giggle, before shifting back into dog form. “What was that drunken idiot thinking, sending you a kobaloi as a guard?” she said, shaking her head.
“He was thinking that you were far more likely to need cheering up than guarding,” Skop said in my head, and I couldn't help but warm to him, and Dionysus, a little.
“Who knows,” I shrugged. “I still don't know why I need a guard at all.”
“Me either. Anyway, I have good news.” I quirked an eyebrow at her as she clapped her hands together. “I have convinced Hades to give you a new room. A new room, above ground.”
Gratitude hit me all in a rush and I flung my arms around Hecate without thinking.
She gave an awkward squeak. “There's a catch!” I let go and narrowed my eyes at her.
“It's not normal for contestants to be given the finest rooms in the Underworld.
So you're going to need to earn it. Publicly. To avoid awkward questions.”
“Right,” I said, slowly.
“There will be another Trial. This evening. If you win, you can have the new room.”
“OK. Sounds fair,” I said, anxiety and anticipation skittering through me.
“Also, you have to have lunch with Hades.” She spoke so fast I almost didn't catch her words.
“What?” My stomach twisted as I gaped at her. “When?”
“Now. Have fun!” she said, and the world flashed white once more.