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“Have people looked for it,” I ask.
“Oh of course, but no searches have ever amounted to anything.” Apollo stares at his family members in the portrait. “I have searched for Persephone and that lightning bolt for almost one hundred years. A weapon like that changes everything. With that weapon, we’d never have to make another deal with House Hera ever again.
Turning, I watch him from the corner of my eyes. A fear running through them is clear as the night sky.
Zeus has his arm wrapped around a woman. That must be Hera. On Hera’s other side stands another woman. One that looks nearly identical to Zeus’s wife.
So similar that they must be sisters. “Who are these two?” I ask.
“Demeter and Hera,” Apollo replied. “They are sisters. Daughters of Rhea.”
Demeter appears heavily pregnant.
Looking over to Apollo, Artemis, and who I assume is Leto, they’ve no extended family with them. “Where’s Ov? Why isn’t he in this portrait?”
“Who knows?” He shrugs. “I don’t pretend to be one who understands my uncle. Never have and never will.”
“But isn’t it odd?” Looking around, I scan each portrait on the wall. “He isn’t in a single portrait.”
“Pfft. I think you're reading too far into things. Maybe here is where we should call it,” He whispers. “It is late. We both should be heading to bed. Can I trust that you’ll return to your rooms?”
Maybe I'm overthinking this.
“Yeah, it’s getting kind of late. See you later.” I smile, giving him a side hug before sneaking to the hidden stairwell. Determined to make my way to the garden before bed. At home, I would go out to the garden to lose my mind with my work. Here, it’s to escape from the world around me.
Garden. Hmm.
Pulling off my bag, I rifle through looking for my marketplace find.
Grinning, I smile at my three packages of daffodil seeds.
The elaborately carved gate creaks open as I enter. I pull back the ivy vines that separate the private garden from the servant’s stairs. I resecured the door.
“Arista, I'm determined to make this home. Look what I have got.” I showed her the three packages. “Three packages of daffodil seeds for us to plant.”
The night is fully spread across the sky. At least the torches are still lit. I found the table and chairs that Uncle and I sat at. Uncle welcomed me to come here at any time. I doubt that he expected me to come in the dead of night, but this was the first time in days that I have been able to get away from the infirmary.
“Lovely!” She squealed, “A perfect addition to the garden.”
First, I work to pull the weeds from the garden. Following the outline of what appeared to have been there once before. Most plants appear dead. Others are overgrown. Though there’s no rhyme or reason to predict which. The entire thing was odd, but I shrug it off as being related to the magic of the gods.
Ari whispers, “I wish we weren’t in this palace, but I'm delighted you have found time to grow flowers.”
“Yes, I know Arista.” Smiling, as I pull weeds from the garden as we continue our chattering.
“Growing food is so boring. Flowers are a much better use of garden space.” Arista stands from her position, she twirls in the mounds of flowers.
Having your hands in dirt has a way of making you reminisce. “Growing food reminds me of my mom.”
Deep down, I almost feel lost. Like being taken by a rip current in the ocean. Not able to choose where to go. Not able to pull myself out of the dark depths.
“Do you remember your mother?” Ari pauses looking intently at me. Trying to make conversation. Everyone has a mom but not everyone has one they can remember.
Furrowing my brow, I freeze. “No. No, I don’t.” I would have sworn that she was also an avid gardener. Where would that come from? Maybe dad told me about it when I was younger?
“Memories are a funny thing. Fickle as can be.” Arista plucks a nearby daffodil from a bunch.
“Looks like daffodils used to grow here.” I poke at the flowers, “Maybe we can try to grow the old bulbs and the seeds. Then we can see if either takes to the garden.”
