Radiant Sin(25)

Clarity. Right. We’ll see. I settle back against the headboard. “And the favor?”

“Eurydice is spending all her time in the lower city, and I can’t get to her. I was hoping you’d pass along a message for me.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and strive for patience. “Orpheus, that woman wants nothing to do with you. If she’s not taking your calls or agreeing to see you, the appropriate response is to leave her alone. It’s not to find a roundabout way of contacting her.”

“I know.” For the first time in longer than I care to remember, he sounds absolutely hopeless. Maybe he’s never sounded like that. “I know I fucked up, Apollo. I didn’t realize how much at the time, but now that some stuff’s come out about what happened that night… I thought it was Zeus pulling some shit. I didn’t think she’d get hurt. I never wanted her hurt.”

I’d be curious to know how that information came out because it’s not common knowledge that the last Zeus used my brother as a pawn in a convoluted plan to endanger Eurydice, get Hades to cross the River Styx, and break a decades’ old treaty. I shake my head. What am I thinking? I know exactly how that information got to Orpheus. All the Dimitriou women hate my brother—and with good reason, if I’m going to be honest. One of them no doubt informed him of just what they think of him and why.

“Intentions don’t matter, Orpheus. Actions do,” I finally say.

“I know. That’s why I’m trying to make it right.”

Orpheus is ten years younger than me and sometimes I feel more like a parent to him than our actual parents. If he takes this to them, they’ll tell him exactly what he wants to hear. Unfortunately, it falls to me to give him the harsh truth.

Still, I speak it gently because even admitting that he was wrong is progress. “Sometimes the best way to make it right is to let that person move on without you. You’re not entitled to her time, even if you want to apologize.”

I expect him to argue. A few months ago, he would have.

He just sighs. “I know. Fuck, I know. You’re right.” He’s silent for a few beats. “I hear what you’re saying, Apollo. I promise I do. But the fact remains that I do need to apologize. If it doesn’t go past that, then it doesn’t. I’ll have to live with that.”

It’s remarkably mature of him, though I’m still not convinced he should be anywhere near her. I’ve only met the woman in passing, and she’s got a fragile air to her that makes me worry my brother crushed her carelessly. Apologizing won’t help that.

It’s still the right thing to do. “Promise me that apologizing is all you intend to do and that you’ll leave her alone after that.”

Silence for a beat. I’ve surprised him. “It’s all I want to do. I promise.”

Strangely enough, I believe him. I drag in a breath. “I’m not going to set up some meeting for her to be ambushed, but I’ll reach out to Hades with an inquiry. If she agrees to see you, then you can apologize. If she doesn’t, this ends now.”

He hesitates but finally says, “Okay. Agreed.”

I’ve had limited interactions with Hades since he officially reentered society, but he seems a fair man. He’ll at least pass on the request and let Eurydice make her own decision. His wife, on the other hand, will not thank me for bringing this to her sister’s door. I fight down a shudder. Persephone might have been a sunshine princess when she was only Demeter’s daughter, but now she’s a force to be reckoned with akin to her husband. It doesn’t matter that she’s not one of the Thirteen. Underestimating her would be a mistake.

Honestly, all the Dimitriou daughters are dangerous in their own way. Eurydice seems to be the exception, which has me wondering if maybe there’s something about her that I’m missing. “I’ll pass on the request.”

“Thanks.”

The bathroom door opens and Cassandra steps out. She’s wearing a wrap dress in a deep red that somehow makes her hair appear brighter. It clings to her hips and stomach and breasts almost lovingly, offering a tantalizing glimpse of thigh and cleavage. I clear my throat. “I’ve got to go, Orpheus.” I hang up while he’s still saying goodbye. “You look lovely.”

“Considering what this dress cost, I had better.”

I frown. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Every time I compliment you, you divert it. The dress is nice, but you look lovely.”

She blushes, her pale skin going a delightful pink. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

I want to press her on it, but we’re not here for that. It’s frustrating that I have to keep reminding myself of that fact. I climb off the bed and put on my shoes as she does the same with some truly torturous-looking heels. “Will you be able to walk by the end of the week after wearing shoes like that?”

“Yes.” She straightens and smooths down her dress. “They’re only a little higher than what I wear normally. It’ll be fine.”

“It’s not—”

“Apollo,” she says firmly. “I know you are not about to lecture me on how wearing heels is not good for my health. Just because I agreed not to argue about sleeping on the floor does not give you the green light to start policing my choices. I’m more than capable of dressing myself, right down to six-inch heels if that’s what I feel like wearing. Stop it.”