Page 31 of Song of Memories

Eurydice leaned forward and allowed Orpheus to feed her a small wedge of the fruit. The sweet, citrusy tang of the nectarine was completely obliterated by the foul, wine-soaked taste of Orpheus's fingers as he haphazardly shoved the piece between her lips. Eurydice nearly recoiled, turned off by the old sweat that still clung to Orpheus's skin from the night before. He didn't allow Eurydice to delicately pluck the fruit from his fingers, instead, practically choking her with his eagerness.

Eurydice sputtered a short cough, reeling backward as she swallowed the nectarine. She slapped her chest twice, trying to rid herself of the gagging sensation. It was entirely unpleasant and felt incredibly violating in its own way. Eurydice didn't want to dwell on the fact that such a small gesture and physicality between them made her feel so sick, but she suspected that was because of Orpheus's sense of entitlement to her that he flexed any time that he seemed to get the chance.

"Careful, my love." Orpheus seemed annoyed. "I suppose these fruits are a bit more bitter than intended. We'll have to make some sweeter music together and see what happens." Orpheus's comment would've come across as playful between almost any other couple, but he only made it sound predatory. Eurydice could see Makaria gripping and releasing her blade repetitively out of the corner of her eye.

No one said anything for a few long minutes. Orpheus kicked at some of the rocks on the ground, whistling a half-assed tune while he looked up at all the blossoms on the fruit trees. Eurydice fought against the urge to start crying. She wanted to run. She wanted to be alone. No, she needed to be alone. Everything in her peaceful life had been taken from her, and while good intentioned, there were too many forces trying to understand what was happening between Orpheus and Eurydice. Eurydice needed to figure it out for herself first.

"Well," Orpheus finally cleared his throat, "I'll get going, I suppose, and I can leave you two to your conversation..."

"No, no," Makaria interrupted Orpheus sharply and stood up. Her soft, shining clouds of magic began swirling around her feet as she began to disappear. "I'm the one intruding. Please, enjoy your evening." Makaria vanished entirely until only her disembodied voice echoed throughout the garden. "And Eurydice? If you need anything, you know where to find me."

The emphasis on 'you' was clear; Makaria's favor was being offered to Eurydice, not Orpheus. As soon as the goddess's presence vanished entirely from the garden, Orpheus's face soured.

"I don't like that goddess," he snarled. "Eurydice, I don't want her visiting you here anymore."

"She's a goddess, Orpheus," Eurydice sputtered in surprise. "Do you think I control her movements?"

"No, I suppose not," Orpheus sighed dramatically, as though a visit from one of the Underworld's most beloved deities was thoroughly inconveniencing for him. "Why don't you come in for dinner, Eurydice?" His tone softened. "I'm sorry about Perseus's party last night." Orpheus's cheeks pinked with a little bit of shame. "It wasn't very becoming of me to act the way I did."

Eurydice was taken back by his apology, but it was welcome nonetheless. The smallest seeds of hope in her chest anchored their roots a little bit deeper. Orpheus extended his hand out to her, and she took it, accepting his aid as he helped her to her feet.

He offered Eurydice his arm, which she gracefully accepted, and he escorted her through the gardens and back towards the main house. The silence between them was somewhat peaceful, for once, and didn't feel awkward.

Eurydice was getting whiplash from Orpheus's moods, but she would take any pleasantness with him that she could.

As they were about to step into the house, Eurydice paused. She turned around and looked lovingly at her new grove of fruit trees before turning back to Orpheus.

"One thing, Orpheus," she paused, and he nodded for her to continue, "I grew those trees. I did. You didn't even play any music here last night." Eurydice's words started coming out in a rush as she tried to get her entire statement out before she lost the confidence. "Those trees are from my efforts, with...you know, some help with the creatures of the forest." She was careful to exclude Pan's name although she didn't know why. "I don't appreciate you taking the credit for my responsibilities like that."

Orpheus stared at Eurydice for a moment, and she expected him to roll his eyes at her or disregard her. Instead, he leaned in towards her and pressed a chaste kiss on her cheek.

"Of course, my love. But you know, we are married. What's yours is mine."

Orpheus dropped Eurydice's arm and walked inside, hollering for the closest serving girl to start preparing the banquet hall for their dinner. Eurydice turned towards the garden and wondered if she could clear the outer wall if she had a running start.

16

Eurydice followed Orpheus inside, going through the long, elaborate hallway that led towards the banquet hall. When she stepped inside, she noticed how similar to Perseus's dining room it was. The room had the same layout, with a raised dais and an elaborate, long table in the center. There were massive braziers in each of the four corners of the room, already lit and burning with the thick, cloying scent of a heavy, artificial incense. It made Eurydice's eyes water as she rapidly blinked through some of the smoke.

The walls were covered from floor to ceiling in elaborate friezes and murals, all of which were pertaining to the stories of Orpheus's mortal life.

Eurydice heard Orpheus talking to some of the house staff in the far corner of the room, so she took the opportunity to get a little closer and examine the artworks. As she studied them, she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was about them that seemed odd. There were depictions of Orpheus on the Argo, many images of him singing or playing the lyre, even a very elaborate painting of the moment where Apollo turned his back on Orpheus.

Then Eurydice realized what it was about all the artwork that was different. None of them featured her. When she had fought with Orpheus earlier in the week, she distinctly told him about how disconcerting it was to be surrounded by depictions of her own death. Now, all the work in the dining hall was still very flattering to Orpheus, but Eurydice and any tales of their time together had been removed. Eurydice leaned a little closer to the wall, gently reaching out and running her finger through some of the oils. She let out a quiet gasp when she pulled her hand away and the paint was still wet.

He had these all redone recently. Eurydice was surprised by the gesture. Orpheus was being very hot and cold with her, but having all the artwork in the house repainted was certainly the boldest step he'd taken in trying to win over her affections.

"Eurydice?" Orpheus's voice was suddenly right behind her.

"Oh! Gods!" Eurydice spun around, pressing her hand to her heart in surprise. She smeared a little bit of paint across the bodice of her draped gown. "Shit," she cursed, looking down at the mess and then towards the painting, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know that they were still wet, and I..."

"Don't worry about it, my love." Orpheus smiled gently. He reached out and ran his finger through the painting, deliberately smearing his own carefully portrayed face. Orpheus streaked paint down the front of his own tunic, only looking up at Eurydice to smile.

"See? Now we match."

Eurydice's heart flipped inside her chest; the seeds of hope that had feebly taken root in her mind that very afternoon dug in a little deeper.

"The painting though… Orpheus, I feel terrible. I didn't know that it was still wet."

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