“Eros.” She’s quiet for several blocks before she takes what sounds like a fortifying breath. “It doesn’t matter what I would have done if my mother reached her goals. It didn’t happen. I married you, not Zeus. I am your wife, not his. I’m committed to seeing this through, so please stop thinking whatever is going through your head right now. We need Zeus’s support, and these circumstances have already ensured that it’s going to be nearly impossible to pull that off.”
I’m committed to seeing this through.
I know she’s talking about what is essentially our con. Marriage for as long as it takes to keep her and her family safe from my mother. She’s not talking about forever.
But just for a moment, I really wish she were.
I’m not a dreamer by nature. I like facts and reality rather than the fantastic version of what could be. The fact is that Psyche only said yes at that altar because I forced her to. She didn’t choose me; she never would have chosen me if given her freedom.
It doesn’t matter. I won’t let it matter. I’ve already decided to keep her, and now all that’s left is paving that path forward between us. I want Psyche in my bed forever. I want the possibility of years spinning out between us, of new schemes and games and playing the public of Olympus to our whims.
I want…children.
The thought staggers me. It’s not something I’ve put much consideration into. My father isn’t around—Aphrodite doesn’t allow for any competition, even in parenting—and my mother is hardly a perfect specimen of what good child-rearing looks like. Up until this point, I’ve always taken for granted that our line would end with me.
Not any longer.
I cover Psyche’s hand with mine and give her a little squeeze. “My head is where it should be. We’ll see this through.”
And after?
After, I’ll convince her that forever could be ours.
28
Psyche
The interview is a nice distraction. It’s so normal in the midst of a situation that’s anything but. Eros manages to pull himself together enough to be charming, but I know him well enough now to recognize that he’s a little off. It’s a disconcerting realization, both that what happened with Zeus was enough to throw him off his game and that I can see the signs.
As agreed, Clio keeps to the subjects we outlined when I set this up. It’s mostly softball questions about how we met and the wedding itself. A fair exchange for being the first to break with an interview. Most of the time, Olympus cares less about the real story than about whatever spin they want to put on things, but Clio isn’t too bad for a reporter. I’ve known her since before she got her most recent promotion, and we’ve helped each other out countless times over the years.
She’s a curvy Black woman with an impeccable style. Today she’s wearing loose pleated gray trousers and a sleeveless cream blouse that does wonders for her silhouette. If I’m not mistaken, I recognize Juliette’s work. It seems she took my advice to try the designer out. Good.
Clio might be on the gossip circuit right now, but she’s hungry for deeper stories than her column can provide. She’s also smart enough to realize that she can’t go chasing down those leads without the Thirteen turning on her. Not yet, anyway.
That doesn’t stop her from collecting any and all information that comes her way, mining for a gold nugget in the midst of so much mud. I hope I have one for her today.
We wrap things up quickly, and I press a soft kiss to Eros’s lips. “Do you mind waiting outside for a moment?”
He hesitates, but there’s nothing to argue about. We’re in my mother’s building, and there are no windows in this boardroom. Clio is hardly an assassin; she wouldn’t have many stories if she killed off her sources, and she’s too ambitious to throw her future away for the chance Aphrodite might protect her. Eros seems to realize that and finally nods. “Don’t be long, love.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
We watch him walk out, and Clio whistles the second the door closes. “Bold choice, Psyche.”
“You have no idea.” I manage not to blush, but it’s a near thing. Clio isn’t a friend and likely never will be, but we’re aligned in a number of ways. “I have a tip for you.”
She tilts her head to the side, her long black braids sliding over her shoulder. “Does this have to do with the real reason you went from avoiding Eros like the plague to having that giant diamond on your finger?”
“No.” I won’t break our cover, not even for Clio. Especially not for Clio. “This has to do with a feud between Aphrodite and Demeter.”
“Old news.” Clio waves that away. “They’ve been at each other’s throats for years. There’s nothing worth digging for there.”