Adora
I wake to the curtains in my chambers being drawn open with a loud screech. Refusing to open my eyes, I turn my head to face the other way. I am usually up before the sun but, considering the events of last night, I doubt that I will be very useful today.
When I finally gain the energy to open my eyes, I find Penelope at the end of my bed holding onto a piece of long, silky fabric. However, unlike my usual pink and white that signify my mother and who I am to become, it is red and white. Pushing myself up into a seated position, I stretch out my back as Penelope begins to talk.
"Good morning, my grace. You have approximately an hour before breakfast, and then you have a meeting for two hours after breakfast. Then you are free until after lunch when you have training." She stops to set the dress up next to my privacy screen. "The greenhouse and lab are all set up for you as well." As she starts to leave, I call out to her.
"Penelope. Why is my dress red? And, why do I have so few meetings?" I ask, thoroughly confused. To my surprise, Penelope lets out a sweet giggle before replying.
"Well your suitor, of course. He offered to take over half of the jobs that you do so that you would be less stressed at the end of the day." Brone. "And, since he is courting you, it is only appropriate that you wear red."
Composing myself after that horrid piece of news, I stand and dismiss Penelope. Why would he do that? I never asked him to do that. Dismissing Penelope, I drag myself from the bed, my body heavy as I will my feet across the floor to the privacy divider.
Lifting the silk over my head and letting it slide down my body, goosebumps appear on my skin as the cool, late autumn air wafts in through the open balcony doors. The silky fabric feels soft against my skin and I stand in front of the mirror. Releasing my hair from the rollers, I let the loose ringlets flow down my back.
The hair rollers were a gift from Mora, something she said was 'revolutionary'. Time works differently in the underworld. And hair rollers are revolutionary.
Brushing down a curl that had become slightly out of place, I inspect the outfit in the mirror. The draping fabric had a much lower neckline than I was used to, but it was still high enough that it would not disgrace my reputation to wear it. The red tunic that I wore simply peaked out from underneath the white silk, covering my cleavage.
Pleats and folds have been created along the fabric so as to distract attention away from a womanly figure, something that I detested to have. My curves were larger than most goddesses, and even most humans than most. Mother had taught me from a young age how to hide these womanly curves. They were not cute, she would say.
Walking down the hallway unaccompanied was strange for a woman of my standing, I was often followed by lady's maids or escorted by suitors. Nobody dared say anything about it, however, for I am their superior now. I walk into the room, still apprehensive about the new layout of the room.
Approaching my seat, I turn my head to find Brone sitting in the seat beside me. The idea of turning away briefly ran through my mind. But, that would be very un-cute of me. So, I lay myself out on the lounge, ignoring Brone's eyes until I am situated.
Mora has yet to emerge from her chambers, but that is nothing new. She was often late to things. Turning my attention towards the infuriating man that is sitting next to me, I offer him a smile.
"Would you care to explain the new... arrangement that you made last night," I manage to keep my cool, his words from last night still ringing in my head.
He takes a moment to answer, taking a break to pluck a grape from the pile in front of us. He takes his time chewing, seemingly thinking over his answer.
"I told you that I would not dishonour your reputation, did I not? People started to ask questions of why I had gone out to look for you so I told them that we had begun a courtship and that our supervisor had run inside to fetch someone to help you before you came inside." I suppose that made sense. "And, as for cutting back on your duties, I have split the workload between the two of us so that we will better be able to do independent research." His eyes burn into mine as he speaks.
"And, I don't think my little dove would be nearly as cute if she were to be a walking statue of Sleeping Hermaphroditus." He smirks, plucking another grape off of the table and throwing it into his mouth. I can feel his eyes running over the contours of my face as I think. I pout at the thought of it.
... Meanie. " I suppose you are right, that would be rather un-cute."
"I must say, I prefer the red. It's rather beautiful against your skin." His words are soft; his eyes run glide down to the red of my dress. Undignified.
"Have you no respect?" I question his rather scandalous behaviour in a hushed tone, so as not to bring attention to ourselves. "Perhaps you should re-learn how to handle yourself around a lady, Brone. It is scandalous enough that you have decided to fake a courtship, but I will not have my reputation questioned because of your inability to have a respectful conversation."
He only laughs slightly. "I can assure you, Adora. I know how to handle myself around a lady," His eyes return to my face; I do not meet his eye. "But I would not reject the offer if you were to be my teacher."
Scoffing, I turn to the platter in front of us and take a piece of fruit, plopping it into my mouth before replying.
"A respectable young god would not enjoy scandalising young goddesses the way you do. I would be rather surprised if you were able to court any young goddess into being your wife when you can hardly look at one without finding yourself drooling."
He laughs again.
"I think that you should allow me to court you, properly. And, if you would consider my proposal after three months, then I win." I only look at him for a few moments. I should not even let this cross my mind, but my curiosity got the better of me.
"What is it that you would want if you were to win, which you wouldn't because there is not a sentence that comes out of your mouth that is not disreputable." He laughs again.
"I do not think that I will reveal that information to you just yet," his laughter dies down as his eyes begin to roam my face again, as if he were studying me. My attention returns to my breakfast as I answer him without so much as a glance.
"Fine. You will not win anyway."
We spoke for a while about the training that we are going to do after lunch. That he has already spoken to the previous 'teacher' that Athena had given me and relieved him of his duties. Mora shows up towards the end of breakfast and proceeds to shovel food into her mouth.
After endless meetings and having to compete with men trying to outsmart me to appease their fragile masculinity, I am now finally going to my greenhouse. Mora is alongside me, listening to me rattle off hundreds of poisons that I could supply from just this one greenhouse. Mora has always let me rattle on for hours and hours about poison, rather forbearingly.
The path up to the greenhouses is lined with white marble columns that house plants and busts of, who I can only assume to be, Athena's dead close friends and commanding officers. There are a lot.
The plants within these pots, however, are simply for show. They would hardly harm a cat, barely invoking weakness. Bouquets of Dahlias and alstroemeria spout up, adding colour to the otherwise mainly white decor of the house. It is a rather odd combination of flowers, especially for a bouquet, but strangely enough, they work together. Reaching up onto my toes, I pluck an alstroemeria from one of the pots, cradling in my hand as we continue to walk along the path.
At the end of the path, blue and pink bunches of flowers were intercepted by greenery. I was able to identify them easily. Hydrangeas. Only moderately toxic if eaten, but they contain enough cyanide to cause a lot of pain.
Although, if you were to spend, say six months, perfecting the perfect ratio of hydrangea leaves to apples then it is possible to create an apple oatmeal cookie that well...
First, you would experience dizziness, fatigue, fast heart rate, shortness of breath, and vomiting. The later stages are a lot more gruesome. This would be followed by seizures, slow heart rate, low blood pressure, loss of consciousness, and cardiac arrest.
Mora got angry at me for that one.
A large glass dome sat on top of the hexagonal greenhouse, a long spire reaching up to the skies above us sits in the centre. Through the glass, the plants were visible everywhere. Lining the edges, leaving barely a path to walk through before they start again in the centre.
When we entered the greenhouses, I was instantly absorbed in the plants and flowers that basked in the sun that soaked through the windows. The plants in here were mostly green, for the most deadly plants were far too beautiful to keep in a greenhouse. I walk straight through the greenhouse, knowing that what I wanted was not here.
I call out to Mora behind me as I exit, asking her to retrieve some rhubarbs for me, we would need it.
Pushing open the door that was directly opposite the one that I entered through, I was presented with the most charming sight. A path leads to a field of my most treasured plants. Each of them being placed in rows, arranged in order of height. Each of them is easily identifiable to the trained eye.
As I stood, marvelling at the truly most beauteous sight, I did not hear the sound of footsteps approaching behind me. Not until he stood next to me and began to ruin my moment of utter tranquillity by simply speaking- meanie.
"It appears that you have found something almost as beautiful as yourself," he spoke like a suitor, as though he were truly courting me. I don't bother to even turn towards him as he speaks, responding simply in hopes that he would leave me in peace with my garden.
"Nothing is as beautiful as I, needn't I remind you of who my mother is," he chuckles. "Perhaps some hydrangea cookies would remind you, they did work ever so well last time."
He is laughing once again at my comment, my fingers stroking the petals of the flower that is still securely in my hand. The soft, velvet feel of the petals grounding me as I plant a small smile on my face, turning towards him.
Expecting to see the usual arrogant smirk on his face that he usually has, I find a forced smile. It is no surprise to me, however. I turn my attention to the vaguely familiar man that is standing next to Brone. Seeing that my attention is no longer on him, Brone begins to talk again- unprompted.
"I am sure you remember Brigadier Adamos, this is his father. General Adamos. He is to be our chaperone for this hour." I smile at General Adamos, his eyes crinkle at the corner of his eyes as he smiles back at me. Next to Brone, his muscular body seems smaller than it did in the dining hall. He seems smaller, his face softer and less rugged. I suppose that is what happens when you are standing next to the future king of the underworld, and you are simply a man. "I thought we could have a picnic in your field, I know how you love it so."
Nodding, I take the arm that Brone out stretches to me. "Don't worry, my graces. I will walk five steps behind you and will be eating a little further away." His voice is gentle, it is similar to the one I imagined my father had when I was but a child. They were foolish dreams. "I will not even be able to hear you."
Lifting my skirts slightly, we walk through the field before I point out a spot that does not include any plants that could be used to poison someone. They were just pretty. As promised, the commander sits a few feet away from us. Out of earshot.
Spread out on the picnic basket that Brone had brought to us by a maid, who I had not noticed was trailing behind us, is an assortment of fruits. We made idle chit chat for a while, both of us spread out across our side of the blanket. When the commander took out a book and began to read, however, it was then that we both ditched the pretences of a courtship.
A puff of red smoke above Brone's hand reveals a stack of papyrus scrolls, tied together with a simple piece of string. "I have collected all of the scrolls that the library had on using a dark form of magic and any that they had on botany, which was surprisingly few."
Huffing, I roll my eyes as I take three of the scrolls, which were tied with a string that seemed to have been dyed green. "Considering who owns this house, and therefore stocked the library, it is not at all surprising." Brone stops for a second to look at me before dropping his eyes back down to the sheets of paper in his hand, clearly unimpressed. We both resume our unspoken roles. I am to study botany, and he will study dark magic.
I sit, staring at the pages of swirling handwriting before looking back up at Brone. I truly have no idea what I am to be looking for.
"What am I to be looking for, Brone?" I pout, "I do not understand what it is that you want me to do when all the information that you have given me is that you wish for me to help you release your father from Olympus's prison."
Brone's eyes snap to mine and he huffs out a breath, closing his eyes in an effort to compose himself. It is his fault really. He should give me more information.
"It is my belief that someone is controlling my father. He would never have attacked you like that unprompted." I stare at him, about to interject until he holds a hand up."Just, please. Look for some kind of flower that could be used to control somebody's actions or something." I roll my eyes, my pout only growing bigger.
"I need more, Brone." I look at him, looking at him with soft eyes and pleading with him in my head, hoping that he would understand. He stayed silent. "Anything. Symptoms? Was he acting differently that day before we left? Please, cosmos."
It seemed to be the name that made him pay attention to me, his pupils dilating. I called him that as children when he died the ends of his black hair red. It had always made him so angry as a child, he could never figure out why I called him that. The way he reacted to it now made a warm feeling, that I could not distinguish, bloom in my chest.
He runs a hand through his hair, and I am able to catch a glimpse of the ring that I found from the first night here.
"His eyes, they were sunken in, like he hadn't gotten sleep for days". My words from the prior night echo in my head, gods don't need sleep. "The colour of his eyes. They were still black but... they had a purple tint to them somehow. I don't understand it."
A few moments of silence go by. "Stop pouting, little dove."
My face instantly drops into a neutral position. Processing his earlier words, an idea comes to my mind. If Hades had been acting strangely or had met with somebody a few days prior then there is only one person who would truly be able to tell us.
"We need to visit your mother."
He lets out a startled noise, looking at me as though I am crazy.
"I know what you are thinking, Dove, but it would not work." What? "You cannot just walk into the underworld-"
"I might not be able to, but you can." I interrupt him.
He takes a deep breath, rubbing his temples as he talks in a hushed tone."Zeus has lower gods guarding every entrance to the underworld. There is no way they would let us in."
I let his words sink in, pouting as I try to think of any way we would be able to get into the underworld without being noticed. Searching my brain for any kind of knowledge that could help us anyway. No gods would dare to go against Zeus. Not when they all saw what happened at the race.
"I know"
Mine and Brone's heads both snapped towards the sound of the intruding voice. Mora.
We both stare at her, waiting for her to continue. But, when she does, it is not what either of us had hoped for, or expected. Instead of explaining how we would get to the underworld, she began to rant angrily at us for not involving her in our scheme.
"Well, it isn't really a scheme, so much as research," I try but I am only rewarded with a sharp look, her eyes narrowed as she looked at me in distaste.
"Just because I am not going to be king of the underworld, or have some weird obsession with botany" it's not weird "does not mean that I would not be a useful addition to your little 'research team." Her voice gets louder and louder, and I peer around her, seeing that the commander was asleep in his chair, something I was extremely grateful for at this moment.
Seeming to have come to the same realisation as me, Brone shushes his sister. She obeys, albeit in an angry and rather deplorable manner.
I sit back, allowing her to rant. My eyes drift over the papers that are scattered out in front of us. Lists of hundreds of different plants and their uses look back at me, all familiar. It seems, however, as I continue to run my finger over the pages, that Brone's patience has worn thin.
"Oh, shut up, Mora. We are sorry that we didn't include you, but could you just hurry up and get to the point." Looking rather deflated for a second, Mora thinks for a second before a smile stretches across her face and she turns around back to where she came from.
"Oh, where is she going now?" Brone's voice has an exasperated tone to it as he looks on after his sister. I take the opportunity of him being attracted to inspect him.
His sharp jaw is clenched and a crease is prevalent on his forehead. He is angry. I think. Mora bends down at the end of the field and starts rummaging through a bag that she seems to have left there. Brone grumbles to himself under his breath.
"You are angry" I observe.
He looks over at me, his face softening, the forehead line going away. He even smiles slightly as he looks over at me.
"I am not angry, necessarily. Simply a mixture of annoyed at Mora for not getting to the point and confused because Mora is not getting to the point and, I suppose, infuriated at myself for not being able to know what is wrong with my father."
"A human could never have that many emotions, never mind a god." He laughs lightly. "And infuriated and angry are synonyms of each other."
Throwing a grape at me, Brone laughs and, once again, I find myself studying him. His eyes seem somehow brighter this time, his face more relaxed.
"This is how." Mora's voice draws me away from Brone.