I laugh. “Cute story. I saw the way you looked at him at the house party. Seems like love.” If I have to be in this marriage—and I do—then I fully intend to make Aphrodite pay for cornering me in the first place. Political machinations may have forced me into this, but I’m determined to end up on top. No matter how formidable she is, she’s got one glaring weak spot.
And I fully intend to exploit him.
* * *
APHRODITE
The reception stretches on for an eternity. Even though I carefully hide what I’m feeling, I can’t stop the sinking in my stomach. I played right into my new husband’s hands. A mistake, and one that will be costly. I can’t afford to underestimate Hephaestus, and reacting to Adonis unexpectedly showing up before my wedding to the enemy? I might as well have waved a red flag in front of a bull. My husband will be charging in no time. I wish I could trust Adonis to avoid that pitfall, but emotions make everything messy and I hurt him badly by making this move.
He’s not the only one.
All through the speeches and cake cutting and first dance, Hephaestus keeps that satisfied smirk in place. It makes me want to…
I manage to extract myself and part ways with my husband to grab a glass of champagne off a waiter’s tray. Now’s the time to follow him back to our seats at the center of the bridal party table, but I need a moment, so I drift over to the doorway leading back outside. The air has cooled with the sun setting, giving the first hint of the bite winter will bring.
I close my eyes and inhale deeply. The desire to strike back at Hephaestus after that little altercation is nearly overwhelming, but I haven’t made it to where I am now by acting impulsively. Mostly.
Right now, the only thing that matters is getting through the rest of the reception and then managing to resist the impulse to make myself a widow on my wedding night. Hephaestus is an enemy, but he’s a known one. If Minos thinks he’s getting his way, he will let his guard down. Hopefully.
Worrying about Minos and his plans can wait for tomorrow.
Even knowing that is the smartest course of action, I can’t help searching the faces of the guests gathered in the ballroom. Adonis isn’t here—I know he isn’t—but that doesn’t stop me from looking despite myself.
He won’t have left Olympus; not without me. His life is here. His family and fortune and a whole city’s worth of admirers. He has a way of drawing people to him wherever he goes, his charm and beauty making him the darling of MuseWatch and a good portion of the legacy families. Not enough to help him secure one of the titles of the Thirteen for himself, but Adonis lives a charmed life.
None of that really excuses what I’ve done.
Or the fact that I didn’t talk to him about it first.
I smother the guilt trying to take root in my chest. Adonis knew what he was getting when we started this ill-fated on-again, off-again relationship several years ago. I was a Kasios before I became Aphrodite.
I drain my champagne glass and tuck all the messy emotions away. It doesn’t matter what could have been because this is my reality. I will not give my new husband and his family even an ounce of satisfaction from thinking that I’m heartbroken.
Being heartbroken would require me to have a heart.
I make my way toward the table with the wedding party. It’s slow going because everyone wants to stop the bride and wish me congratulations or use thirty seconds of their time to try to weasel closer to the power Aphrodite holds. My title’s responsibilities include making marriage matches, and arranged marriages are one of Olympus’s favorite ways to consolidate power.
Again and again, my attention is drawn back to the bridal party. They’ve mixed up a bit. My people—Hermes, Eros, and my brother and sister—on one side and Hephaestus’s—the Minotaur, Icarus, Ariadne, and Pandora—on the other. It’s the latter who interests me.
In the brief time I’ve known their cursed household, Pandora seems to be the only one whom my lovely husband does more than tolerate. Even now, he’s leaning over Icarus to speak to her and there’s an actual smile on his face. It’s strange and soft, and it makes me want to grab the nearest piece of silverware and gouge his eyes out.
Instead, I focus on Pandora. She’s a pretty little thing—short and soft with the kind of curves a person can sink their hands into. Smooth light-brown skin and a thick fall of wavy black hair complete the picture. But what really sets her apart is the way she lights up a room when she walks into it. Her laugh fills a space in a way I’ve never experienced before. I added her to my side of the wedding party out of spite because I knew it would bother Hephaestus, but I actually found myself enjoying being around her.