Page 55 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

“No,” Hyacinth said at the same moment I replied, “Absolutely.”

The proprietor’s gaze bounced between us. I rolled my eyes. “Ignore my friend here. He lost a game of luck and is in a foul mood. Dinner for all three of us.”

The proprietor clapped Hyacinth on the shoulder, which caused him to jump. “Better luck next time, friend. I’ll be back with your plates in a moment.”

He ambled into the warmth and bustle of the crowd, and Temi took a swallow of her wine. Hyacinth scowled as his gaze swept the room. “I lost a game of luck? I thought you didn’t like to lie.”

“You got stuck with me for the year.” I lifted my goblet to my lips. “Wouldn’t you say that’s the same thing?”

He frowned at the dented cup. “Yes, I would.”

“Try your wine.”

“I already told you”—he tugged at the sleeve of the tunic—“we don’t consume food outside the palace.”

“But”—I knocked my shoulder into his, which caused his scowl to deepen—“no one knows who you are here. No one’s going to poison you. Aren’t you at least curious?”

A muscle along his jaw jumped. He tracked a finger out and curled it around the stem before lifting it to his nose, which wrinkled. He lifted it, taking a sip. A cough sputtered from him and set the cup back down. “What is that?”

Temi grinned. “It’s low-barrel wine.”

Hyacinth smacked his mouth, the curve of his lip catching a glint of light and outlining the elegant form of his mouth. “It’s terrible,” he said.

“Ah, it’s not so bad.” I took another drink of mine. “It will wake your senses up though. And it doesn't take much to get drunk on it.”

He turned towards me. “If you’re attempting to use that as a selling point, you’re failing.”

I chuckled as a mandolin player took to the stage. “Evening folks. Good evening.”

A man sitting near us pounded his fist against the wood of his table. “Get on with it, bard.”

Hyacinth’s expression brightened. Even with the veil he wore, the loosening of his features seemed to wash away a decade of worries. He frowned too much. When he relaxed, a youthfulness permeated through him, highlighting the beauty of his features. I stopped that thought from continuing and turned back towards the stage.

The bard cut a sharp grin to the man and tossed his head, his curls bouncing. “I believe we have a guest tonight who’s had too little drink or companionship. Now he seeks my poor performance to make up for lack of necessities.”

The crowd chuckled, and the bard twirled his mandolin in his hands. “Tell me, are there any souls here who might have pity on this fellow? Anyone willing to share their drink or perhaps something more pleasurable than that?” He paused for a long moment, and people jeered and laughed. “No? Well”—the bard shifted back towards the man sitting by us who grinned like a fool—“you’ll sadly be stuck with me for the night. Should the music not satisfy, come speak to me after the performance, and maybe we can try other pleasures to see if they serve better.” He winked at the man, who guffawed and clapped his hand against his thigh.

Hyacinth leaned in over the table, his voice a whisper. “Did he just proposition him publicly?”

“It’s in jest”—I twisted my lips up—“mostly.”

“Hera’s plight,” Hyacinth breathed.

I scoffed. “For the love of the gods, don’t bring up any of my family tonight.”

Temi scowled. “Especially not Hera.”

Hyacinth turned towards her. “Why not Hera?”

Temi’s frown deepened.

“Oh gods,” I said. “You’re going to start her on one of her rants.”

She kicked my shin under the table, and I groaned, but she kept her gaze on Hyacinth as she spoke. “Goddess of women.” She rolled her eyes as the proprietor walked over and set three plates down with hand pies, their buttery smell wafting into the air. Temi jabbed her finger into hers, ripping a piece of the flaky crust off. “She does nothing for women. Maybe she is the perfect symbol, however, as she suffers at the hands of Zeus herself. If I were divine, I’d redefine what being a goddess of women was.”

I swallowed a bite of my food. “Yes, yes. You’d teach them stabby tricks and how to run the world. Down with Zeus and the patriarchy.”

Temi jabbed her knife in my direction. “That’s right. And I know you agree with me, so don’t act so apathetic.”