Page 70 of Until the End of Ever
“Worked for us before,” Lucian pointed out.
“We had to fight Python to chat with the sun god for a half hour. Do you really think an actual great god-king will just do what we want because we ask nicely?” No matter how I thought about it, we were screwed. “Because, spoiler: the old gods blow. They’re not known for actually helping. Like, ever. Ever read theOdyssey?”
“Well, old Odysseus was dumb enough to piss off half of the gods when he found a way to break into Troy—andthen, also annoyed his actual protector. We’re not that dumb. And secondly, gods still helped him out. A lot. He was someOlympians’ favorite. That made him the natural enemy of the rest. We just need to figure out who’s on our side.”
I made myself nod, still struggling to take the concept of godly intervention seriously.
It is serious, and real. You saw that Monday.
Lucian believed it. Why wouldn’t he? His own grandfather was a god. And that man was rarely ever wrong. “All right.”
29
LUCIAN
“Lucian?” Kleos called as she stormed through the house, hurried footsteps echoing through the halls.
I smirked, wondering if she’d noticed I moved her in.
It took no small degree of stealth on my part, given the fact that we’d spent the better part of the last week joined at the hip—oftentimes literally—but thanks to Silver and Gideon’s assistance, as well as Ronan’s carriage, I managed to do so discreetly.
Her clothes just took one trip, while she was busy helping a handful of people with their various aches Thursday morning. I left all the girlish dresses she didn’t choose, only bothering with her casual attire. Those, I placed at the back of her wardrobe—now relocated to my room, though she still had a fair few clothes in the guest bedroom. The bulk of Kleos’s former collection qualified as what I would call cheap and cheerful. She herself gravitated towards luxurious comfort, and I wasn’t going to complain.
I also insisted to pack her jewelry making tools, which all fit in a box. Her metal, I replaced with silver, white gold, and platinum. Her semi-precious stones, I switched for gems.
That, she did notice last night. “Lucian, how come I havediamondsall of a sudden? A lot of them. I see Gideon dropped my pack off, but I can assure you, it did not include dozens of huge-ass rocks!”
“You like shiny things.” That was the end of it as far as I was concerned.
“That’sridiculous!” she protested, with wide hand gestures to display the enormity of the perceived absurdity. “My skills aren’t worthy of that sort of money. The kind of things I make could be sold at a flea market for a fiver. Like, friendship bracelets.”
I only smiled. “Such as the one Apollo himself deigned to wear?”
“Yeah, well, he’s weird,” she groaned. “Seriously, that’s unnecessary.”
I shrugged, and repeated, “You like shiny things,” before kissing the top of her head. “You should redesign Gertrude’s necklace, since you have your tools. My spell’s in the stones. Get them out of their setting. Make something new.”
She gasped. “I couldn’t! It’s vintage. And a family heirloom. What would Kaelius and Cassiopea think?”
That being her position, I took her to the treasure room in the belly of the manor, under many spells ensuring no one but those of the blood of Regis could get in.
The Saltzin collection was small—more sentimental than of real value—but, well, Cassius also liked shiny things.
Kleos looked like she might faint, and didn’t manage to say a single word for over an hour, so that was that.
Friday morning, while she baked, we packed and moved the rest, Gideon letting Silver and me in, and the dainty little princess doing most of the heavy lifting. I tried to keep up for a while, but truthfully, I gave up. The damnable woman wasn’t evenwinded.
I didn’t bother to try to move Kleos’s furniture. Like her formal attire, it didn’t truly feel like it suited her, and she seemed to like the decor here. The manor constantly adjusted to make our space perfect for her, adding splash of colors and delicate designs it never bothered to craft for me. But it was possible she might have noticed her books added to Theke.
Perhaps I ought to have asked if she’d like to move in. But Kleos didn’t enjoy answering questions—nor did she like when I tried to clarify her place here. It made her blush and stutter, and occasionally, stomp her foot.
So when she raced through the house at high speed on Saturday morning, I was prepared for the inevitable fight where I would inform her that she had indeed been abducted.
“Yes, love?” I asked over the newspaper, bringing my tea to my lips.
“Your mother wrote to me!” she practically screamed, a letter in hand.
“Ha.” I grinned, glad we were apparently going to argue about her permanent address another day. “Yes, I thought she might.”
