The Fall of Icarus (Book 1 in the Apollo series)

Πέντε

Icarus couldn't live any day the same after that night. It was as if everything had changed, and something most certainly had.

Whilst his world hadn't changed, whilst his circumstance hadn't changed, his life certainly had. He was still alone, he was still trapped in Minos' palace, he still had an desire to escape, but now Icarus had a glimmer of hope. And if he didn't have that, he at least had comfort; he had someone, in the form of a god, who cared for him and was trying to alleviate his pain.

Even if nothing had changed, at least it felt like it did.

The following day passed slower than Icarus would've liked. He spend most of it in the kitchens, with his mother and some of the other houses slaves, making bread, and whilst he enjoyed the rare time he got to spend with his mother, he just couldn't seem to focus on anything. His thoughts always went back to: Will Apollo visit me tonight?

Apollo had no obligation to him- Icarus knew that. There was nothing other than a feeble, breakable promise forcing the sun god to return to his window, but Icarus liked, or rather wanted, to think that Apollo's promise and morals would bring him back, but it's rather clear to anyone with eyes and ears that gods don't have morals or empathy- Icarus told Apollo that much.

Regardless of what Apollo thought about his ability to change, Icarus hoped that he really had changed from the god in the stories he'd heard in the past.

"Icarus, I think you've kneeled the dough enough." Naukrate smiled, putting her hand on top of his gently.

"Oh, sorry." Icarus replied, still sounding somewhat lost. "I was distracted."

"By what?" Eugeneia, one of the other house slaves, said as she also kneaded some bread dough on the other side of the table. "Do you have your eye on one of the girls?"

Icarus' face wrinkled in disgust. "No!"

"Then, have one of the boys caught your eye?" Hypatia, one of Pasiphaë's personal slaves, added. "It's completely fine if they have."

"I'm not allowed to say." He bluffed, as he handed the kneaded dough to his mother without meeting the gaze of the other two slave women.

"You're not allowed to say, are you?" Eugeneia grinned, as she looked at Hypatia, who was thinking the same thing as her: Icarus is lying.

"Are you sure you're not allowed to say?" Hypatia continued. "Come on Icarus, tell us what's got you so wound up!"

"Stop teasing him." Naukrate frowned at the other two slave women. "It's probably something to do with Daedalus' work in the labyrinth, isn't it?" She turned to Icarus, as if to say: if you want them to shut up, say yes.

"Yes, it is." Icarus lied. "I'm not allowed to talk about the labyrinth. No one is."

Hypatia laughed. "You're not allowed to talk about the labyrinth because Pasiphaë wants everyone to forget she had sex with a bull and gave birth to a beast." She said. "Did you ever see it? It was absolutely hideous."

"And here I thought Pasiphaë and Minos we're finally going to have a child together." Eugeneia shook her head. "At this point, I don't think they ever will. He seems a lot more interested in his slaves than his wife!"

Whilst Icarus was uncomfortable with the previous topic of conversation, he wasn't particularly fond of this one either. He knew his mother was one of those slaves Eugeneia was talking about, his mother was one of those slaves that Minos was interested in. He didn't want to think of the things he did to her.

Icarus kept his gaze low and worked for the rest of the morning without giving Eugeneia or Hypatia a second glance. He took the dough from Eugeneia's hands without looking at her, kneaded the dough without making eye contact with Hypatia across the table and handed the dough over to his mother with glazed-eyes.