Page 32 of A Girl and HER Prince
None of these sounded good when Deedee was involved. Her friend must’ve read her mind because she gave an answering laugh. “Don’t stress out. I’ll take good care of you.”
Livvy managed a sickly smile for the camera as Deedee narrated their walk to the Greek Agora through the busy, winding streets. The tempting scents of fresh bread smothered in oregano and basil drifted from the cafés
They were nearing the festival, judging by the joyful sounds of musicians playing bouzouki string instruments and the phorminx, which resembled a harp. At times, a rare daouli drum joined the strings to echo through the night. The chirpy cicadas nesting in the olive trees added their song to the tumult, the insects gamely drumming the tymbals on the side of their abdomens.
Even the insects were invited! It was a full-out street party.
The longer the shadows lengthened over their pathway, the louder the shouts from those having the time of their lives pierced through the dark night as the celebration got underway.
Livvy and Deedee entered the ancient Agora. Thousands of years ago, it served as both a market and meeting place for politics and entertainment. Oak and laurel trees pressed against them on either side with its lush foliage. Conservationists had planted this greenery to replicate how the town center had looked in the age of the classical era, though a modern hand had added glittering fairy lights. The aroma of the bay leaves drenched the pleasant salty air that carried through the wind.
Festival-goers crowded the courtyard, just as they’d done in 400 BC. The music and dancing felt almost surreal, considering the history behind this gathering—long ago, this festival had been a religious experience; now it was a way of appreciating those in the past who’d paved the way for more philosophy and innovation.
Deedee breathlessly gave their travel log to their followers in a world that Livvy wasn’t sure her viewers could see all that well, though the glowing lights along the pathway might help a little. The dirt and rock crunched beneath their feet, a normally serene experience, broken up by Deedee’s narration: “We are on the Panathenaic Way—an ancient road leading from the main gate of Athens up to the slope of Acropolis where Athena’s birthday was celebrated.” The road was broken up with modern pieces of cement patching up the ancient, cobbled roads made of marble and sandstone. “This pathway was later used to run the torch up the hill for the first modern Olympic Games in the late 1800s.”
Deedee’s historical descriptions began to transport Livvy back in time. She spied the Temple of Hephaestus lighting up a nearby hill, and she shivered at its significance. The structure was one of three buildings still fully intact in these ruins. What remained of the other architecture were orphaned columns that towered over them like lone specters in the night.
No wonder the Greeks had inspired so many movies and books.
The ground ahead was divided into sections that held the crumbling foundations of temples and altars—to the side was a judicial court, farther on was the library, past that a treasury. They walked past the silhouetted remains of the gated entryway of a two-story auditorium that once seated a thousand spectators… before the roof collapsed, sadly.
All of which Deedee happily talked about to her online viewers, although she could be counted on to switch things up with her usual dramatic flair: “Besides their concerts and plays, did the Greeks have gladiator fights? They sure did, but it was during religious ceremonies, and they never fought to the death… that was totally a Roman thing, but mostly their entertainment was an excuse to party and dance! And I think you can see for yourself that not much has changed! Now who’s ready to join us?”
They reached the Stoa of Attalos, where the music rang out under the musicians’ hands. A dance was held on the marbled floor of the museum, a type of tango by the looks of it.
Livvy’s sandaled feet began to tap the ground. The rhythm was catchy and haunting.
“This is the Stoa of Attalos,” Deedee said beside her. Livvy didn’t need her self-appointed guide to tell her. The walking area was first built for King Attalos sometime in the BCs after the Romans invaded and knocked out their democracy,but…
“Oh!” Deedee said beside her. “Stoa means walkway… pretty much it’s a fancy pavilion with columns and a wall on one side.” She turned her camera phone to scan the premises. “It can hold shops or meeting rooms… in this case it’s a museum… and was completely redone in the ’50s, built with the same stone and wood from before to give us all an idea of what it would’ve looked like.”
Livvy turned to her. “Okay, turn off the phone, narrator, we’re going dancing!”
Deedee let out a shriek as they came across a table overflowing with honeyed treats. Honey was considered a gift of the gods—the Greeks even embalmed bodies with honey. To the side of the sweet offerings was an odd-shaped cup.
“A Pythagoras cup!” Deedee exclaimed. “Pythagoras was one of the earliest Greek mathematicians and scientists who invented this. Livvy, get a shot of this.” Livvy reached for her phone while Deedee picked up the cup and dipped it into the crystal serving bowl. As soon as she reached the line near the top, the water spilled out. “You can’t fill it too high or it drains out,” she said. “It’s meant to keep people from getting too drunk!”
She brought the cup of chilly water to her lips and drank with a wink and a smile at her viewers.
Ahead of them, a group of dancers were linked together with their arms draped over each other’s shoulders. It reminded Livvy of a country line dance, except everyone was connected. The fun was too irresistible to hesitate a second longer.
“Okay,” Livvy called out to her friend. “Time to say goodbye!” Without waiting for Deedee’s response, she found the shoulder of the man at the end of the line and was dragged away. She did her best to follow the leg movements, turning more breathless at the rigorous dance.
Deedee let out a shriek and scrambled to join, linking a few people down the line from Livvy. They traveled over the marbled flooring, skipping through the crowds and weaving around ancient pillars. Livvy’s heart pulsed beneath her at the joyous rhythm as the song grew faster and more furious.
She let out a ragged laugh, and did her best to follow along. She noticed Deedee had been forced to stop recording—there was nothing like a dance to bring them all to the present. It was just them and this moment under the bright moon, and yet this setting transcended time too. The ruins had the power to take her into the past so that everything felt magical.
Livvy’s new lightweight dress had the delicacy of a toga the women might’ve worn so long ago, the flowing fabric floating around her legs as she rushed to keep up.
The exhilarating music slowed down to signal the end of their first dance. Livvy found Deedee’s arm, laughing. “That was so fun! I think if we did nothing else this whole night, I’d still be glad we came.”
“Oh, you’ve seen nothing yet!” Deedee answered.
Livvy noticed Deedee’s attention was riveted on something past her shoulder. Turning, Livvy jumped when she spied Venice across the crowd. Even from this distance he stood out from everyone else here with those broad shoulders and that chiseled jawline.
Her heart lifted and sank and spun out of control. “Deedee?” she whispered. What had her impulsive friend done?
The Tirrojan prince looked like he’d just stepped off the boat in his loose blue shirt and white linen shorts, and Livvy couldn’t rip her gaze away. Where had her legendary strength against players gone? She’d almost gone a full five minutes without thinking about that royal pain, and now he was scorching through her every sense! Venice had presence, despite his reputation—maybe because of it, if she was being brutally honest with herself.
