Only as Elle finally peeled her eyes away from the glorious table filled with food and drink did she notice that there were quite a few people already seated at the long table. King Boreas and his queen sat on opposite ends. Khione was seated at the table as well. Calais and Zetes were at the table, along with other people Elle couldn’t quite remember. She had probably seen them all at the ridiculous welcoming ball she had attended her first night.
All the people were dressed in dazzling clothes of white, grey, or navy. Elle wasn’t sure whether there was a dress code around here that specifically limited those colors alone, but each person seemed to be dressed in clothing of such a rich material Elle was certain any outfit from the royal family probably cost more than her Jeep back home.
“Here she is, Father, as you requested,” said Jack, lazily walking to a side of the table before sitting himself down.
“Evangeline…” King Boreas trailed off, looking at her with a suddenly stern expression. “Why is it you refuse to wear the jewels provided to you?”
Elle tried to ignore all the burning gazes directly on her as she cleared her throat. “I don’t want to wear them. They’re not mine. If your castle keepers hadn’t taken my clothes, I’d be wearing those instead of this dress.”
Queen Oritya raised a delicate eyebrow before addressing Elle. “You mean to say you wish to wear your horrid attire instead of the clothing crafted by the very finest civilization has ever known?” she asked with a strong touch of disgust. All eyes had moved to watch the queen as she spoke before they had flicked back to Elle.
“Pretty much, yeah,” Elle replied with an uncaring shrug.
The corner of Jack’s mouth shifted slightly. It looked like he nearly wanted to smile at Elle’s unintentional sarcasm. Or he was rather excited about eating the delectable biscuit his pale fingers plucked from the nearby basket. Elle wasn’t sure.
“Do sit down, Elle.” Khione smiled warmly. “It would be our honor to get to know the newest member of our family.”
Elle nodded slowly at the beautiful pale woman before transferring her gaze to King Boreas. “Do I have a choice?” she asked politely. She learned something important from her time in confinement. Be nice to Boreas and he’ll be nice to you.
The old king seemed to be resisting the urge to chuckle as he stroked his long white beard. “No, my dear, I am not allowing you to have one.”
“Then I’d love to.” Elle nodded dully, hoping these gods and goddesses weren’t talented at understanding sarcasm. Considering no one threatened to turn her into an enchanted object from that one comment, she suspected they couldn’t tell she was using it.
Elle moved toward a random chair seated next to a woman who looked to have a beehive of white hair on her head. Before she could, a random servant dressed in what resembled dull white nursing scrubs hurried to block Elle’s path.
“No, Princess. Your seat is across from your betrothed,” the old woman explained with a bow of her head.
This was terminology that haunted Elle since the night fire appeared in her hands. She couldn’t escape the chamber maids and other servant-type people from referring to her as princess.
Still, betrothed wasn’t any better of a word. Glancing down the long table, she saw a seat was strategically placed for her right across from Jack. A cruel smirk was playing across his pale lips as he mockingly waved her over.
“I’d rather sit here,” Elle replied stiffly.
“You will sit across from Jack while also placing a halt on the party of pity you are throwing, child,” Boreas instructed, causing Elle to nearly watch him in puzzlement. It took her a moment before she realized his words were just the king’s odd way of saying pity party.
Elle certainly felt like a child as she made her way over to the seat across from Jack. She sat herself down, trying and failing at not sulking in her spot. She didn’t want to eat in front of him. She wanted to be absolutely anywhere in the world other than sitting across from the horrible person she’d come to know was Jack Frost.
Even though she followed the king’s instructions and sat herself upon the seat, she wasn’t going to be happy about it. Elle crossed her arms and felt rather determined not to eat.
“She is a strange one, Father,” Calais mused. “She does not enjoy the luxuries provided by royalty.”
“I know, my son. She is indeed an odd one.”
“I like it,” said Calais at once.
Elle was disgusted to find the immortal spared her a soft wink. The old king chuckled thoughtfully at his older son’s comment. “’Tis strange but endearing. My sources tell me Evangeline declined on the entwining of diamonds to her locks,” he said, seeming both amused and surprised.
Elle silently wondered what kind of pompous ass needed diamonds braided into their hair anyhow. Soon, her chocolate brown eyes flickered over to where Khione and her mother sat. It took great restraint not to start laughing at how the two blonde women had diamonds braided throughout different areas of their heads. They were the perfect examples of people who had incredibly too much wealth at their disposal.
“Yes, Father,” Jack mused, using his long pale fingers to gently rip pieces from his biscuit. “It seems Evangeline is dead set on maintaining the looks of a mutt.”
A couple people seated at the long table suddenly looked awkward while others, to Elle’s dismay, chuckled. The three people who did not seem to find Jack’s rude comment funny were Khione, Calais, and Boreas.
“Look at that,” said Elle, crossing her arms. “An insult. You lack originality, don’t you?”
“It’s not an insult when it’s true, doll,” replied Jack, a breathtakingly cruel smile to him.
Elle realized she would actually find the cruel bastard attractive if she didn’t already dislike him with a burning passion. He was incredibly good looking. The paleness of his face just made it more noticeable when his pale pink and light blue-tinted lips quirked in an evil smirk.
No one seemed to want to react to the trade-off of comments.
“There’s really not a thing I find likable about you,” Elle openly admitted to Jack, unable to keep her comments in check.
“Let us hope for your sake that is not true,” Queen Oritya said. “Otherwise, you may not live by the time it comes to wife training.”
Elle frowned. “Wife training?”
Queen Oritya’s pale face lit up in a smile that Elle felt resembled her stepson’s evil grin perfectly. Her pale blonde hair stuck up in a straight pile atop of her head to look as though it was frozen in place. Her crystallized crown of beautiful icicles stood erect upon her head, causing Elle to realize that the woman resembled a crazy ice queen as much as Boreas resembled Santa Claus.
“Yes, child,” Oritya answered. “A part of training to become the perfect bride is learning to fight other immortals to defend what you possess…oh…” she said, faking sympathy. “I do hope living as a mortal for all this time does not put you at any sort of disadvantage.” She simpered, a coy look on her face. Elle couldn’t help but feel that’s exactly what the Queen of Boreas was hoping for.
“I’m certain she’ll do fine,” Jack replied airily, not returning Elle’s gaze as he reached for a goblet of juice.
That comment momentarily caught Elle off guard. There was no time to overthink it before Oritya supplied a chuckle. “Maybe she shall resort to heavy violence like yourself. Perhaps a common interest for the two of you can be a lack of athletic ability,” the queen drawled airily.
Jack’s pale jaw lightly clenched as he said nothing more. It was only as Zetes and Boreas contributed small chuckles did Elle find herself feeling slightly sorry for Jack Frost. He did not return her gaze. Judging from that brief comment alone, it did not look like as though Jack and his family got along.
Chapter Fifteen
Elle took a deep breath as she glanced down at herself. She was dressed in a deep frosted silver plated body armor that thoroughly covered her chest and stomach. Her legs were covered by a
weighted net material that made a heavy pair of metallic pants. Even though it was form fitting, it was quite heavy.
Her feet were covered by thick black boots that felt far too heavy to walk in. They were clearly steel toed with an emphasis on steel. After breakfast, Elle had been brought to a strange type of underground arena that looked to be in a cavern of some sort. It was lit only by torches so that the large dark area was illuminated by flames.
The air felt hot, sticky, even. It was too humid for her to still be at the North Pole. While there, the weather felt chilly indoors, but it was nice temperature compared to the area she was now in. The temperature to the cavern had to be in the high eighties at best. Being covered by the weighty armor caused Elle to feel even more humid. It wasn’t pleasant.
“Tell me again what I’m supposed to be doing?” Elle asked Hermes quietly.
Being partially known as the god of travel, Hermes had been the one to bring Elle to this strange place at Boreas’s command. Where this place was, he hadn’t revealed. All Elle really knew for certain was that she was supposed to be subjected to wife training. She was given the heavy body armor and a curtain to change behind but no further direction.
As Hermes rifled through a very large wooden case against a cement wall, Elle had a very bad feeling once she saw him removing different varieties of weapons. That’s when she looked around the cavern to see many types of weapons hung around the walls. One was holding different varieties of swords. Heavy ones, small ones, narrow ones, jagged ones. Even to Elle’s dismay, gold and diamond-studded ones. Next came spears. There were far too many spears taking up an entire wall. All, like the swords, came in many types of variety and sizes.
Elle truly didn’t like to see a wall specifically holding only types of bows and arrows. She had a bad feeling as she looked at the sinister-looking weapons.
“Long story cut way, way short, today is your first day of preparing for wife duties,” Hermes answered happily, pulling a pair of thick black gloves from inside the case. “Here you go!”
Elle caught the gloves he threw her easily. They were made of the same strange, heavy material as the pants she was wearing. “Er…what are these for?”
“Trust me when I say you want them.” Hermes nodded seriously. “Otherwise, you could lose a finger or two easily.”
“What?”
Hermes hazel eyes widened in surprise at Elle’s response. He ran a hand through his curly blond hair as he looked somewhat confused. “No one’s told you? Today’s your first day of—”
“You better not finish that sentence with wife duties!” Elle interrupted. “Seriously, why am I dressed like this? Where am I? What is this place?”
“This is the weapons area down below the arena.” Hermes nodded seriously. “Today is your first sparring class. You’ll be fighting lower level nymphs or other wives at a beginning level.”
“I’m going to be fighting nymphs and others like me?” Hermes didn’t appear to be joking as he spoke.
The immortal held up his hands in an apologetic fashion. “I so know where your head is at right now. Not to worry, you’ll be fighting monsters in no time!” He beamed, clapping her on the back.
Elle realized the jubilant teenager seemed to feel her shocked expression was over who she was going to be fighting rather than simply being stunned she was fighting in general. Hermes had no idea where her head was at whatsoever.
The god examined the walls curiously, tapping his chin with a single finger in a thoughtful manner. “Hmm. Are you more talented with a sword or maybe a staff of some sort? If staff, spear or bow?”
His words were alien to Elle. She had never picked up a true weapon before, let alone fought someone. In high school, she was a cheerleader. She would run and jump rope for training purposes but nothing like this.
Elle was going to be way out of her league if she was really expected to spar someone. The only item she had ever really carried in a bid to cause harm was a lamp and a frying pan. Even when she had hit Voluptas to the face, she probably wouldn’t have been able to accomplish such a thing if the goddess had been ready for her.
“On second thought, maybe we’ll just take a few different weapons to test your abilities.” Hermes snapped his fingers.
Chapter Sixteen
Elle now found herself sprawled on hot, sandy ground. Instead of darkness surrounded by torches, she and Hermes were now outside on the outskirts of what seemed to be a very large coliseum. Elle had seen such places on TV and in the movies, but that was far different from being in the middle of one nowadays.
“Where are we?” she asked in wonder, her eyes transfixed by the beautiful sky that looked to be a mixture of a soft pink and light blue. There were three moons to this place, showing Elle she wasn’t quite back in the United States. She wasn’t sure if she was even on earth anymore.
“Olympus’s very own arena,” Hermes answered proudly. He offered his hand down to Elle on the ground. Once she took it, he very easily pulled her to her shaky feet before he handed her a spear. “Where else would Hera’s wife-training camps take place?” he asked with a laugh.
“How should I know?” Elle asked in confusion, dusting herself off.
A look of understanding crossed Hermes young features as he slapped his forehead. “My bad. I keep forgetting Matt didn’t let you in on any of this. But if you…”
Elle stopped listening to the bubbly blond as she took in the large coliseum. She and Hermes were by no means the only ones here. There were many others surrounding the large arena, all dressed in different types of body armor similar to Elle’s. A gaggle of five young women were dressed in golden armor while they were being specifically led by an extremely good-looking man. He looked a tad over muscled, as if steroids were a part of his daily meals.
“The wives of Hercules,” Hermes muttered to her, rolling his eyes. “Like the horn dog really needs five wives.”
“Why does he have five wives?” Elle asked curiously, watching as the pretty women draped themselves over the man while cooing sweet words to him. It was obvious why the god exclusively picked these women as wives—they were utterly gorgeous. There was not one thing wrong with their good looks, from their perfect complexions to their stylish hair. Still, five wives seemed excessive.
“He enjoys sex.” Hermes shrugged matter-of-factly. “He sleeps with a different one every day of the week. He’s looking for two more to fill up his weekend.”
“Ew…” Elle muttered, cringing at the horrid thought. She started to take in her surroundings as Hermes fiddled with her weapons. There were three women wearing a light-green and golden body armor that looked specifically designed to represent the sea. All the women had seashells woven throughout their hair as they surrounded a tall, wiry young man who wore a sea-shelled crown upon his forehead. As if reading her mind that Elle was curious as to what god the man was, Hermes stepped forward.
“Those are two wives and a fiancée of Triton, the messenger god of the sea,” he explained with a yawn. “He’s Lord Poseidon’s heir.”
Elle noticed a little ways away from Triton was a tall man with the same bronze-colored hair. He was also dressed in rich sea-green robes to represent the ocean. In contrast to Triton, this young man had deep bourbon-colored eyes instead of blue. Elle would bet any amount of money the two were brothers. Their postures were too identical along with their high cheekbones.
“That’s Triton’s younger brother, Ajax,” Hermes explained, already anticipating Elle’s question. “He’s betrothed to that sea nymph beside him.”
Elle noticed the young man was clenching his jaw angrily. “He doesn’t look too happy about that,” she commented, noticing the young man named Ajax looked on the verge of strangling the nymph fluttering around him. He had his arms crossed as he ignored the young woman with mint-green tinted skin who kept trying to get his attention.
“He’s probably not. Have you ever dated a nymph? Needy little gits,” Hermes muttered. “They never shut up while ever
ything is constantly having to revolve around them…” He turned back to Elle. “Well, let’s scope out your competition. We’ve got Hercules’ girls. Triton’s girls. Ajax’s nymph…hmm…ah, yes. The wives of Zetes.”
Knowing who that person was, Elle quickly craned her neck to catch a glimpse of Jack’s older brother. The tall Zetes stood off to the side of the arena, talking with four women who were all dressed in the same ice-themed armored outfits that Elle was. While Elle’s was specifically colored with a more pearl white, the women had grayer outfits. It looked to be every group of wives or fiancées were purposely dressed in different color-themed armor. Strangely, Zetes and his four wives all seemed to have their gazes directly upon Elle already as she looked to them. While Zetes was quietly muttering something in a low voice, his wives all watched Elle with very cold expressions.
Stupidly, Elle started to look over her shoulder to see if the girls were glaring at something or someone behind her. They weren’t. Their gazes had been locked on her alone. As soon as Elle had looked around in wonder, Zetes and his wives broke off in cold mocking laughter at her confusion. She appeared to be just one large joke to them. Hermes noticed Elle’s suddenly sad expression and sympathetically frowned. Soon, a mischievous grin lit up his young face.
“I guess some women still have a hard time accepting they’re not going to be the future queen of ice!” Hermes shouted, waving specifically at the now-fuming Zetes and his embarrassed wives. One woman scowled as the rest shrunk back in embarrassment.
Elle laughed as Hermes began to chuckle before she cleared her throat. “Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, I really appreciate it, but…”
“It seems my stepson and I should have done a better job explaining who we really are, Evangeline,” Hera interrupted, gracefully approaching Elle with great elegance. She was dressed in the same golden armor as the wives of Hercules. However, Hera’s outfit had a very large and very tall golden crown that signified she was the queen of the Gods. She looked radiant and even scary—full of authority. Hera sent Hermes a reproachful look. It made Elle realize that the stepmother and stepson actually looked the exact same age.
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