The S.S. Olympus -under refurbishment

Chapter XXXI: Justae Nuptiae

"If you wed in bleak November, only joys will come, remember."

*Note: Flavia has gotten a make-over, for my re-readers. You will see her name changed inthis chapter and those who know the mythos will see the connection.*

Cornelia spent the next few days in a blur. Trapped in her in the torpid whirlpool of tumultuous trauma and emotions everything around her was fading. Images of Athens and her mother circled in her brain and she never knew if she was awake or suffering a nightmare. 

It is not as though Cornelia was not ungrateful for the new and luxurious treatment her captor had bestowed upon her. She knew that the furniture in 'her' room Gastonus was tinted with gold leaves and appointed with purple fabrics. She did not care to see the details, what did this beautiful furniture and foreign silks matter when she had failed to save her mother?

Cornelia understood that the beautiful servant girl, Echo, brought her plates full of grapes, lamb, fresh bread, sweets, and anything else she could hope to consume, but she did not touch it. It was far too rich for what she deserved. Her mother was like this because of her, her mother had followed her to Athens, hearing one of the elaborate stories that had followed their journey. Her mother had encountered a wraith, because of the legends 'Corny', had spread.  I will have to hit Hades for that catchy nickname. Even that levitous and nostalgic thought brought tears to her eyes. 

"If I had not run away," She whispered into the red tinted sky of dawn, a cool breeze combed her hair, or is it Echo?  She could not tell, but she had enough pride to blink back the evidence of her pain. 

"not run away," A voice answered behind her.  

 A tender Echo expertly wove narcissus flowers into Cornelia's ceremonial braids. Another excessive show of wealth by her husband to be. Narcissus blooms are a spring flower, how he got them in November meant no expense was spared even on that silly detail. It was not even her favorite flower. She played with the petals of one of the yellow blooms. Echo shifted in front of Cornelia and began coating her lips with a dye.

Cornelia could see a depth of despair in Echo's eyes that reflected her own. "I wish we could trade places," Cornelia said crestfallen to the helpless girl in front of her.

"Trade places," Echo nodded in agreement.

"I brought this on myself," Cornelia whispered in a somber voice to Echo.

She nodded again, "Brought this on myself."

Echo handed her an orange and red veil. "This is wrong," Cornelia said slipping the delicate fabric through her fingers.

"This is wrong." Echo nodded emphatically.

"My mother would be helping me to make these." She said as she gently smoothed the folds of her white silk dress. The color of purity. Gastonus had stated that her house had been ransacked while they were away. Cornelia had no pronuba and the memoirs of her past had been swept away while she was cavorting with aliens instead of standing by her family. "Is it really gone?"

Echo shook her head, "gone." Gastonus had already insinuated that he was responsible for the thievery. She wanted to contest him in the courts. She wanted to scream from the rooftops that he was a thief and a tyrant. She wanted to point her finger at the real evil in the room; but, he set them up to fail so perfectly.  He set himself up as a 'hero' when he 'took them in.' 

Cornelia's internal monologue mocked her. Who would listen to an addled old woman and her loud-mouthed daughter? She broke from her reverie. "I have no choice."