Page 61 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

Once he disappeared around a corner, Apollo burst into a laugh. “Gods, that was worth the disdain. Did you see his face?”

I gave my head a shake. Zeus’ name had brought back other worries that tumbled through me and reminded me of everything at stake for the country. “Why are you here?”

“You know, a day will come when you realize I mean it when I say I don’t lie. I’m here to help you with your work, like we talked about. And”—he flung his hands out—“to play along with this as Temi wishes.”

I hesitated a moment before opening the office door and gesturing towards it. Well, him working with me would give me something to write to his father about at least. Relief flooded through me. Maybe things wouldn’t be as dire as I’d feared. He ambled in and dropped into a chair. He shrugged down, the light flooding in bringing out golden highlights in his hair, seeming to pierce the muddy details of the veil.

“I’ve been thinking about last night.” I swallowed. “Changing the law is something that will move slowly. I may be the crowned prince, but our country has a board of advisors who must approve any new laws.” I raised my eyes to meet his. “But I have my personal money I can draw from if it might help.” I dropped my arms, defeat whipping its way through me.

Apollo sighed. “Look, that was harsh of me.”

“I want to help.”

His lips pinched. “Temi has already connected with many people in the city. She’d know where money would be the most helpful.”

I nodded, removing the crown from my head and placed it on the table. The emeralds on it glimmered across the wood.

“Is that thing heavy?” Apollo gestured towards it, his mouth twisting up.

“Literally or proverbially?”

He grinned, his expression easing again. “Whichever.”

I lifted a parchment off the top of the pile and leaned back against the desk. “Why do you care?”

Apollo stood and walked so close to me our arms brushed, the bright, earthy scent of him filling my senses. My heart fluttered, and I tried to move back but bumped into the solid wood of the desk. Apollo cocked his head to the side. “You know, deep, deep down”—he spread his fingers over his chest—“there is a tiny part of me that does give a shit about others.”

I ducked around him and walked to the other side of the table, my feet warming in the golden sunlight that poured out in puddles over the floor. My blood coursed through me, hot and racing, and I smoothed the lapels of my robe down as if I could physically calm the thoughts that flooded through me. I couldn’t act on my attraction to Apollo. That was the most foolish idea I’d ever entertained. “Says the man who dragged me across half the city last night to show me those in need. You won’t get me to buy that you scarcely care.”

He rolled his eyes and ran his finger along the beveled edge of the desk, his motion sensuous. Gods if he didn’t have long elegant fingers. How I’d love to feel them trace down my body. Heat swept over my cheeks. Damn it. I could not let my mind go there.

“So, what do you need to get done?” Apollo said.

“I’m sorry, what?”

He smirked. “It’s a shame I’m avoiding my powers. Now would be a moment I’d love to know what you’re thinking.”

The heat on my face grew. Now would be a terrible time for him to read my mind. Hades’ realm, I had to get a hold of myself. This was Zeus’ son. That thought zapped through me and grounded me back on earth, reminded me that I was a prince, overseeing the wellbeing of a kingdom that Zeus and, by extension, Apollo could destroy without hesitation.

The stack of papers seemed like a small mountain casting a shadow that rippled over the dark and spread its jagged edges over my legs, as if it planned to bury me. I gestured to the pile with a sigh. Apollo lifted a page. “Well, let’s start. I’d like us to be free before the sun goes down.”

I huffed a laugh. “There’s not a chance we will make a noticeable dent in this work today.”

He raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of gold shimmering through the veil over his eyes. “Is that a challenge, prince?”

“No.” I moved the ceramic birds over and began making piles. “Not even your obstinance could speed this along.”

He scoffed and picked up a handful of papers, patting them together. “You don’t know just how obstinate I can be.”

I laughed. “All right. How are you with numbers?”

“Brilliant.” He flashed me a sharp grin, and I smiled despite myself.

“Fine. You start here.”

Hours passed, and somehow between the two of us, we worked through more than I could have imagined getting done. Despite his brashness, he was correct. He had a good head for numbers. At first I hesitated to discuss things with him, but his personality was surprisingly easy, his mind sharp, his opinions thoughtful, and we soon had a rapport flowing between us.

As the sun sank, apricot rays gleamed through the garden’s petals outside the window making the room glow, dust motes glittering in the corner. I sat a parchment down and blew out a breath. “Wow. We’ve actually accomplished a lot.”