Page 38 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

“He’s having his sister trail you around to turn you for them. Is it working?”

She shrugged and tipped the glass back, finishing it and smacking her lips. “I like Epiphany. Though I feel bad for her.”

I leaned in over the table. “You feel bad for someone?”

“I do. She’s trapped in her life.”

A blew a stray curl off of my forehead and dropped back against my chair again. “Trapped in her life of riches and luxury. How difficult that must be.”

Temi scowled and fixed me with a look. “Kind of like you’re trapped to be a powerful, indulged immortal?”

That stung, and I shuffled through my knapsack, rearranging a pile of parchment inside it. “Fine. You’ve made your point.”

She kicked my shin. “Maybe you and Hyacinth have more in common than you think?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, Temi, even at my worst I couldn’t be as boring and overbearing as him.”

She huffed a laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“Something we can agree on.”

She scowled again, but a smile pinched at the corners of her mouth.

The proprietor walked over, worrying the rag between his thick fingers. “I hate to break things up, but we're closing.”

“Oh.” I hopped up out of my chair. “Thank you for hosting us tonight. The food and drink were fantastic.”

He grinned and inclined his head. “And thank you for playing music. You all are welcome anytime for a warm meal and some drinks on the house.”

I shook his hand, and Temi and I exited out into the refreshing cool of evening air. She elbowed me in the ribs. “Look at how upstanding and charming you can be when you want.”

I poked her back. “And look at what a pain-in-the-ass you can be when you want.”

“I learned it all from my older brother.”

I snorted and slung my arm over her shoulder. “That’s fair.”

And we made our way towards the palace.

13

Hyacinth

Weeks passed, and Apollo made himself scarce. Him avoiding me brought as much of a headache as when we spent time together, and a dull stabbing remained in the corner of my temple all day. I hurried out of a meeting to catch him one afternoon, numbers and issues and the argumentative advisors buzzing through my head.

Apollo sashayed across the vestibule, ruffling his fingers through his hair. I clipped down the stairs. “Apollo.”

He turned, his mouth pulling down into a sour expression. He had drawn away most of his god-like features with another veil, his golden eyes dulled to a muddy brown, his height and shoulders swallowed back. But the arrogance and disdain that flooded his features remained the same either way. “Yes, Prince?”

My eyes tightened before I thought better of it. “Are you heading somewhere?”

“I am. I have plans.”

“Again?”

He smiled. “Your city, as it turns out, is full of fascinating people.”

I cleared my throat. “I’m glad to hear that as the well-being of those people may very well rest on you.”