Cassandra and Apollo

Chapter 4

She was in a meadow. Above her, the sun was a yellow plate on an empty blue table. Fragrant flowers of all colors ranged around her, eerie in their straight lines. It was a dream, to be sure. But it felt too real to be a regular dream, it was god sent.

It was she who spoke first this time. Before, she had been emboldened by his oath, now, she was stirred by shock and disappointment and hurt.

"You're too late; you've missed my dedication."

For a while, she spoke to empty air, to the trees and the bright green grass, bleeding into her white dress.

Then, the air shifted, wavering the shapes around it like reflections in a rippling pond.

"Did I?" he said mildly.

His voice was as deep and rich as she'd ever heard it. And yet, there was something else to it, an undercurrent of intent, though she could not guess his ends.

She sat back on her heels, fists knotted in her lap.

"Yes." She fought back indignant tears. How could he be so cavalier?

"I waited all night for you and you never showed. You gave not so much as a word for my service."

"And you believe you are entitled to my presence?" His voice held a warning, sharp as a blade.

She ignored it.

"Briseis and Adonis received it." The words poured out of her like venom from a fresh bite. "Am I so mean a thing compared to them? Am I too plain for you?" The adepts' words.

She was breathing fast, her heart rattling its cage. "And the—the horrible things they said about you. They said you—you—"

The flickering air steadied suddenly, and he appeared before her. He was more a god than she'd ever seen him. Every treasure in King Priam's vault pooled together could not shine as brilliantly as his hair, as piercingly as his eyes. Something told her this was not a form mortals could see outside dreams.

She fought a gasp.

"—said I bedded them? Is that the horrible thing they said about me?" he finished for her. She detected pity.

"Yes! How could you allow them to spread such lies!" The words leapt from her throat, even if she'd wanted to there would be no stopping them. She wanted him to tell her it was not true, that he was still the stoic philosopher god the poets praised.

His smile, patient and kind, was the only thing that stopped her. She stared dumbly.

"They are not lies. No one in my service can lie."

Had she been standing, undoubtedly her knees would have folded. Even sitting, she felt lightheaded and was forced to plant a palm on the grass to steady herself.

"W-what?" was all she could manage, the word frail on her lips.

The god approached her, lifted her to her feet. She swayed for a moment, but he braced her with his arms. Even the fog of sleep could not dull the heat radiating from his body.

"They were willing; eager, really. And I found them pleasing," he said. It was not an explanation, for gods owed mortals nothing, not even excuses. But, it was more than any other woman had gotten from him.

He continued, "Are you angry that I did not visit you, or that I visited them?"

Both, she wanted to say. She was enraged that even a god fell short of her expectations. It was one thing to reject her, to find her undeserving of his favor, but for him to lavish attention on two glittering peacocks... well, that was heaping insult upon injury.