Chapter 27

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"Have you eaten yet?" I ask. Cyreus glances at me. Ceramic clinks against stone, and I poke and prod at the food. Palace food again. My stomach turns and flips.

"I ate before bringing this here. So unfortunately you will not be able to get away with not eating today." Amusement drips from his words. "Your father has plans for you today as well."

It's like I swallowed a boulder. What could he want with me now? My eyes drift towards the bathroom; did he notice the loose stone? No, he couldn't have. But no, he could have because he's a god and human rules don't apply to gods, and he could have easily sensed something was different and now--

"Breathe."

I catch his wrist and draw him down beside me. He struggles in my grip, wiggling, writhing, and yet unable to pull away. Wide eyes stare at me.

"Percy."

"We've got an hour before the others show up. I don't want to waste it with you standing by a door."

"It's my job."

"You can do just as good of a job protecting me from here," I say softly. This isn't going to be convincing enough. My hands slide onto his knees. "And it's really better for you to be right next to me, isn't it? What if someone sneaks in through the vent?" Closer. Closer. He doesn't move or insist that he needs to do his job.

"We have forty minutes. Tulia's supposed to help you get ready for today."

My hands slip over him. As soft and smooth as it is, the material of his clothes doesn't leave much to the imagination. Firm muscles twitch and tense under my touch, and his breathing picks up as I move up.

"He wants you to make an appearance with the court."

I frown. That means he wants me to... No. I can barely deal with all the eyes on me Camp on me, and half of that's hero worship from young kids. Kids that I train and know and that aren't judging me. Cyreus smooths his thumb over the space between my eyebrows.

"It's just an appearance," he says. "Essentially you'll just be seen with him before the meetings start. I assume it's to ease them into interacting with you."

I sag into him and bury my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. Cologne undersea is a powder applied to the skin, but that doesn't make it smell worse. I prefer it actually. It smells better, more concentrated but not overpowering. With him, it's like breathing in a nice, crisp summer breeze. Cyreus's hands settle onto my back.

"Are you okay?"

"Just want a hug." There are moments he sneaks here and there: brushing our shoulders, standing a bit closer than necessary when handing me something, soft words whispered as we sit in front of the vent. But he never holds me. Never kisses me.

"You could ask your father."

"I want a hug from you, idiot." I grumble, trying to press closer. "I know I could go to him." I couldn't. There are things that I've been doing...Well, I don't doubt what he said about keeping me locked in here, so it's better if doesn't have the chance to find out I've been talking to councilors in the hall, or that Orthello's given me more and more things he's stolen from Cyreus's desk. The stone in the bathroom is nearly bulging out of its spot.

"If anyone--your father-- shows up..."

I snort, then kiss his skin. "I'm still pissed at the Oracle of Delphi for taking my horse without my permission, and that was like four years ago. He knows I have some of his possessiveness, and you've been in my rooms long enough for me to consider you mine."

There's also the possibility that if Dad finds out about this, he'll get off my back. Maybe assume my insistence about knowing what the fuck's going on is related to having a mortal I care about here. And I hate that I'm thinking of using Cyreus like this, but... Not all of it would be a lie.

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