Thomas leaned toward me, a small bowl of pudding in his right hand. “This is my favorite dessert here at court. They don’t make it often.”
“You can have mine,” I replied.
He dipped his spoon into the pudding and held it toward me. “You don’t want to try it?”
I felt his eyes mocking me, but I replied, “No, thank you.”
The room rose into a jovial din. When all the guests had full plates, the large doors opened again, and five man servants rolled out an enormous fountain. After moving it to a prominent location near the dance floor, one servant went around the back and cranked the pump until the fountain flowed with wine. A cheer rose from around the room.
Guests crowded to fill their glasses. Three more servants poured kegs of wine into the fountain until it nearly overflowed.
Thomas rose, took the three glasses from our table and filled them, serving Persephone’s, then mine, then his own. As he settled into his seat, he savored the wine. “It’s very good,” he told me.
I slid my glass closer to his plate and tried not to notice that my throat was scratchy.
By far the most handsome group in the room were eleven young men who stood together at one end of the ballroom. All of them wore clothing identical to Thomas—black robe, scarlet sash, a gold cord at the waist, and a golden band around the left bicep. They ate standing and remained apart from the rest of the guests. They varied greatly in appearance. Some were dark while others were blonde. All were muscular, although a few of them were slighter than the rest. Even among the immortals, they held a singular beauty. I realized that if Thomas stood among them, he would match their form and beauty perfectly.
“Who are they?” I asked him, raising only my chin to point.
“Persephone’s attendants, the Royal Guard.” When I eyed them again, Thomas asked, “Is there one among them that you fancy above the others?”
“They are all beautiful.”
He leaned closer and murmured, “You could choose any one of them, and she would give him to you for tonight.”
I was stunned that he offered this so freely as if I expected it. “To entertain me?”
“Of course.”
I sat back in my chair, and looked into Thomas’s worried eyes. “I was under the impression you were assigned to entertain me?”
He bowed his head. “If you don’t like me, she will give you someone else.”
I tried hard not to grin. “Is there anyone in particular you’d recommend?”
As he sipped wine, his eyes went carefully over the entire guard, then to me. “No,” he said finally, “there isn’t.”
I sighed dramatically. “Then, I guess I’m stuck with you.”
He realized then I was teasing him, and he chuckled softly. His teeth were perfectly straight and made his smile brilliant.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Persephone watching us.
Thomas offered me his hand. “Will you dance with me?”
The dance floor was crowded with couples stepping and spinning to the music. I’d only danced with a man once. It was my dad, and we were at his foreman’s wedding. I was thirteen maybe. All I remembered was feeling awkward through the whole song.
“I don’t know how to dance like that,” I protested.
“I’ll lead,” Thomas replied.
“But there are so many people….”
He knew I didn’t want anyone to touch me even accidentally. “They will give us room, I assure you.” Then he leaned forward and whispered, “It will get you away from the table.”
I took his offered hand. He led me down the steps of the platform. By the time we reached the dance floor, all of the couples moved aside and created a corridor of bodies with an open circle in the center of the floor.
Every eye in the room was on us when Thomas brought me to face him on the dance floor. He slid his right hand around my waist, and I tried not to shudder when the skin on my arm touched his. His body was so cold. He drew me nearer. “It’s just like walking to music.”
As the tune started, Thomas pulled me a step forward with his hand, and then pressed me back again. On the next step, he turned, leading me by the hand. We danced four complete repetitions of the same steps before he spoke. “You lied to me.”
“I did not,” I replied, still very conscious of the audience surrounding us.
“You said you couldn’t dance.”
“I’ve done a lot of dancing. I’ve just never danced like this before. As a couple.”
“They don’t dance where you’re from?”
In my mind flashed images of high school dances, the blaring music, thumping bass and slow songs, where couples hugged on the dance floor barely moving. Then I thought of my dad’s friends and barn dances, sawdust on the floor, the country swing and line dancing. “It’s different.”
The steps mimicked a waltz, and while I’d never waltzed before, I did know the box step and how to turn at the corner to change direction. Thomas was doing six steps—one forward, one back, then two turns. Each turn contained two steps. Once I understood where the next turn was going, the dance was simple.
“You learn quickly,” he replied. When the music ended, Thomas murmured in my ear before letting me go. “Curtsy to me and then to the Queen.”
I curtsied to him as he bowed to me. Then he took me by the hand and bowed to the queen as I curtsied again.
As he led me through the throng of guests to the table, I heard someone whisper, “Who is she?”
Another guest replied, “She is Eros’s bride.”
I shot a look over my shoulder to see who spoke. It was a pair of young women. When they saw my glance, both turned their eyes away. “They know?” I asked Thomas.
“They know who you are, not what you are,” he replied.
“They speak English.” I expected it from Thomas. It was probably his native tongue, but why would people of the court speak English? The explanation he offered was sickening.
“Most of the women here were once mortals. There are far more men than women in Hades, so the king allows the sentries to go into the mortal world and collect women for the court. Most of Hades speaks English now. I taught it to all the Royal Guard myself.”
“They collect women from the mortal world?” That was a nice way of saying they kidnapped girls, brought them to Hell and forced them to live as slaves. Everything about this place was inhuman.
After we took our seats, Persephone turned to the Royal Guard and gestured toward the dance floor. Immediately they dispersed through the crowd. A moment later, they arrived on the floor in three straight lines, each man holding a young woman by the hand. A gap was left in their formation because Thomas stayed with me.
The women seemed delighted to have been chosen, and they all knew the steps, even though the bulk of the dance was done by the men. It reminded me of movies I’d seen of Victorian English dances. The group moved from one formation to another. However, the dance was powerfully seductive and would have had the Victorians fainting in droves. The exquisite beauty of the Guard, so much of their perfect bodies exposed, quickened my pulse.
I looked down, only to find the platter of food taunting me. Watching the seductive Royal Guard was safer. At least they were across the room.
One of the men caught my eye. For most of the dance he was near the front at the center. He was dark skinned with captivating blue eyes. He completed the dance as if his partner was invisible. His eyes never strayed from the face of the queen.
When the music ended, Persephone applauded. All of the other guests followed her example, and so did I, but our praise was lost on the one attendant who still looked only at the queen. Finally, she smiled at him. She beckoned him forward with one finger.
His excuse to his partner was brief at best. A few short strides and he’d scaled the platform and taken a knee before Persephone. She touched his hair, then lifted his face by the chin. He looked briefly into her eyes, then kissed her hand before resting his forehead on h
er knee again. She stroked his hair. “Welcome home,” she said softly.
I turned to Thomas for an explanation.
He whispered very softly into my ear, “He fell out of favor with the queen eight days ago, and has just returned.”
“From where?”
He turned away, but there was no mistaking the tightening in his jaw.
The attendant was oblivious to my curiosity as he rubbed his forehead back and forth across Persephone’s knee. Probably no one else could see that his hand had moved from the floor to her calf where he stroked her skin. Finally, the truth struck me. He never left the kingdom. He just returned from the fire.
A gasp of revulsion stuck in my throat. He was so beautiful and so meek. His shoulders and hands, so perfectly smooth, had been burned and healed only to be disfigured again.
I dared to look into Persephone’s eyes and found her smiling triumphantly back at me.
My eyelid twitched.
Oh, no, I thought. Not now.
Chapter 28
Thomas grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. “You look tired. I’ll take you to your room.
I couldn’t speak.
He begged pardon of the queen, who seemed pleased to have him take me upstairs.
Mercifully, he didn’t parade me across the room to the main entrance but pulled me discreetly through the servants’ quarters and up a back staircase.
My legs seemed to melt beneath me. I could barely stumble down the hallway. Fear and disgust combined with my hunger and threatened to tear me apart at the seams.
Thomas nudged me through the doorway of the bedroom. The candles in the sconces flickered as he closed the door. When he secured the lock, I could no longer hold back.
Tears blurred my vision as I staggered away, but escape was impossible. There was no where to run, and no one safe to run to. I steadied myself against the bedpost, but the pain didn’t bloom in my chest. I willed it away. I faced Theron. I crossed the spine. I vowed never to be disabled by panic again. Whatever Thomas planned to do to me, I would survive it, and I would return to Eros.
“My answer is no, Thomas. Titus said no matter what you do to me, as long as I refuse, I’m still free.” I imagined giant hands in my chest packing strips of fear into a ball of courage. I stood straighter and pulled strength from Eros’s love, my father’s devotion, and Titus’s loyalty.
“He’s right,” Thomas said.
I braced myself for what was next—hands where I didn’t want them and that hungry look in his eyes. I tried to prepare my mind to survive being defiled. I squeezed my eyes closed, not wanting to see Thomas turn ugly and mean as he came for me.
“Sit.” Thomas opened the drawer on the nightstand. As he drew out two small bottles, I shuddered. He didn’t close the drawer fast enough, and I saw what else it held—a pair of golden shackles and a long strip of black cloth, a blindfold.
I swallowed the knot in my throat and sat on the velvet comforter of the bed. The room was deceptively beautiful. On a chiffonier stood a tall vase filled with long-stemmed red roses. Behind the roses was a mirror in a hand-carved wooden frame. The candlelight threw soft shadows on the plush velvet and satin pillows of the bed. The pillows were black satin and red velvet. Some had gold tassels hanging from the corners.
He did touch me, but not like I expected. When I opened my eyes, Thomas was kneeling at my feet and untying my sandals. He anointed his hands with both oils then took my right foot in his hand. He held it exactly the way Titus did and began massaging.
I was so confused by his submissiveness that I didn’t know what to say. “You learned that at Aphrodite’s feet,” I said finally.
He thought for a moment. “I guess I did. Why?”
“Titus does it exactly like that, too.”
“You like Titus.” It wasn’t a question.
“He is honest and trustworthy and loyal.” Those were qualities one simply could not find around here.
Thomas dribbled more oil on my toes and rubbed it in. “I’m deeply sorry that he lost his father.”
“You’re sorry that he lost him, or you’re sorry that you killed him?” I would not pretend I didn’t know why Thomas was here in the Underworld.
He moved to the other foot. “I’m sorry he’s dead, and that justice isn’t always just.”
Maybe it was true. Centuries of slavery was a severe punishment, but Thomas slept in a palace and dined with a queen, while Titus’s father had long ago rotted in a grave.
Thomas’s hands moved up my calf.
“Don’t!” I tried to pull my foot away, but Thomas held on, and he had a firm grip.
“You don’t let Titus rub your legs?”
“It’s bad enough he’s always rubbing my shoulders.”
Thomas looked up, utterly confused. “You should let him. Your muscles are knotted.”
“Thomas,” I said firmly. “You may not touch my legs above the knee.”
“As you wish, Lady.” He poured oil on my shins and rubbed it in. It smelled of lavender and cinnamon. “I’m a slave, you know.” He gestured to the gold band around his bicep. “You can require anything of me. Have I nothing that you want?”
“Nope.” It sounded pretty harsh, but this was the Underworld, after all.
Thomas bit his lip and rubbed more intently. It wasn’t the knots in my legs that bothered him.
“Why do I get the feeling I have something you want?”
“You do,” he replied, and a cold chill ran down my spine. “But it’s not what you think.”
“Amaze me,” I said flatly.
“May I touch your hand?” he asked. When I didn’t answer, he assumed it was permission. He took my hand, turned it palm up and set it against his cheek. He let out a low murmur, and his eyes closed in pleasure. “You’re so warm. I’d forgotten what it was like to be near a woman who wasn’t cold.”
“Why are you cold?”
“Human warmth comes from within. We don’t have it here. I was warm like you when I arrived, but now I’m as cold as the rest of them.” He lifted his head and stood. He tugged on my hand until I stood before him. “If I swear on my allegiance to my Queen that I won’t press you, will you allow me to hold you?”
I shook my head.
“I’ll stop the moment you ask me to.” He bowed his head. “Just for a little while, I want to be warm again.”
Cautious as I was, somehow I couldn’t refuse him. Most likely I was being beguiled, but some innate sympathy made it impossible for me to be unkind to him.
“Don’t let this scare you.” He untied the cord at his waist and freed the scarlet sash. He dropped them on the floor, a pool of crimson and a golden snake next to our feet. He shook with anticipation and he tentatively stepped forward and slid his arms around my waist.
Touching him was like being doused with cold water. I gasped as he pressed me against his bare chest.
“It’s a shock, isn’t it? I remember that about the first time I… uh… attended Persephone. She was positively giddy over my warmth.” He sighed and dropped his head so his cheek rested on my shoulder. “Now I know why.”
“How does it leave you?” Giddy wasn’t the word I would use to describe Thomas. He was enthralled. He took my hands in his and moved our arms so that they touched from shoulder to wrist. He even put his neck against mine.
“It slips away little by little,” he explained. “Every time you’re beaten or burned. Every time you lie with a woman who doesn’t belong to you. Every time you speak falsely or seduce a maid, you get a little colder. Then one night you realize you’re just like all of them, worse maybe, and your blood is clear, but it’s cold.”
Truthfully, I was hot after the banquet, and he cooled me off. I was less faint, and surprisingly, less afraid. When he finally let me go, I saw the change in Thomas’s face. A hint of sparkle shone in the gold flecks of his eyes. Human warmth was a powerful thing. Kindness even more so.
“You look exhausted,” he observed. “Will you sle
ep?”
“Not with you here.”
“I won’t harm you, and I see you have no interest in using me.”
“You make it sound like what I want matters.” Though I was no longer terrified, I still had to be careful.
Thomas pulled back the covers on the bed and fluffed the pillows. “You are unlike any woman I have ever been sent to attend. Everyone who comes here wants something from Persephone. Some come seeking riches. Others want to learn to be powerful. Maids come to learn the art of seduction so they can unlawfully ensnare their masters. She treats all her guests the same. She hosts a banquet for them; she offers her best wine and her attendants to fulfill their every desire. However, they all fail to grasp this one simple truth: to deny themselves is to gain what they want most, and if they cannot deny themselves pleasure for a single night, then they belong here with the rest of us.” He gestured me into the bed. “I’ve rarely seduced a guest. On the contrary, they command me, and I obey.”
“So, I can command you to leave?”
Thomas dropped to his knees at my feet. “Please, don’t do that! It will make her unhappy.” He gathered my knees into his hands and pressed his forehead against my kneecap. “Please, let me stay.”
I stood at a dangerous crossroads. I couldn’t willingly send him to be burned. However, letting Thomas stay put me in grave danger. I stepped out of his embrace and sat on the bed to think. I didn’t know what to do.
“You’re just trying to lower my defenses,” I said.
He shook his head. “I would rather burn than destroy such strength and innocence.” He kissed the hem of my dress. “And, I know what awaits you if you fail tonight. Let me stay, and I will pay you in honesty.”
I wasn’t the real prize. Persephone hoped Thomas’s charm would make me falter in my determination to return to Eros. Once declared property of the Hades court, I was to be beaten and used by the Royal Guard. When word reached Eros, Persephone knew he would come to bargain for my freedom. She wouldn’t be able to keep him forever since he was an advisor to the Ruling Council, but she could submit him to her will. He would allow himself to be degraded and abused to keep me from further harm. In fact, Thomas informed me, Eros already had permission from Zeus to buy my freedom if I failed to return by the end of the week.
Painted Blind Page 30