her haven with women who understood what it meant to be kind. And those words had power.
In short, she just didn’t want to be here anymore. Not with these people who made her feel as though a thin film of oil was spread over her entire body.
Her mother had made her wear her finest peplos, the same one she’d worn in Olympus. Thankfully, Demeter hadn’t noticed the silver stars now laced through it. But Kore did. Even now, she ran her hands over the fine stitching and wondered about the man. What would he think of this festival that was quickly turning into little more than a drunken mess?
“Kore, darling?” Her mother gestured with the goblet in her hand. “Would you please get me more mead? What these men have brewed is utterly extraordinary.”
Except, that wasn’t why she wanted Kore to stand up. This was the time of the festival when her mother made her point. The little maiden who relied on the goddess of the harvest was proof that Demeter was not only a perfect harvest goddess but also the perfect mother.
Kore stood slowly so everyone could get a look at her. Their lecherous gazes stared up and down her body before she heard the whispers start.
“The virgin!”
“Bet that one’s tasty.”
“Never seen one like her before, but a goddess like that... She’s got to have a little of her mother in her, don’t you think?”
They’d continue for the rest of the night now. The man who had told the story about the donkey said another joke and her mother burst into laughter. Drink forgotten. Demeter rarely thought of her daughter at all unless there was something in it for her. Kore was another pawn in her mother’s game. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Kore made her way to the table where they’d placed a bowl of mead and stared down into the amber liquid. A fly had landed at the top and was frantically trying to fly its way out. Buzzing loudly, it spun in circles on the glistening film.
“I know how you feel, poor thing,” she whispered. Making sure no one was looking, she dunked her hand into the mead and pulled the fly out. She set it on the table to make sure it would have time to dry off. Now, hopefully one of the mortals didn’t find him and squish him before the night was up. “Good luck.”
She wished someone would take her out of this situation. If only some giant would hold their hand out and pluck her off the earth. Take her somewhere else. Somewhere....
Shadows moved beyond the table. She could see all the way out into the wheat fields beyond. They only hosted festivals for her mother where wheat grew, considering it was a symbol of Demeter. But she was certain there hadn’t been a tree in the middle of this field when they arrived.
But there it was. Straight and tall, like an arrow pointing out of the ground. Cypress didn’t grow in wheat fields. If anyone would know that, it was Kore.
What was a cypress tree doing here? It shouldn’t have grown that quickly...
She glanced over her shoulder. Demeter was still talking to the men and laughing. The tops of her cheeks were bright red with drink.
Kore had a few minutes to herself. Besides, wouldn’t Demeter want to know why a tree had suddenly grown in the middle of her own festival?
The sun was setting as Kore picked her way through the wheat fields. They bent toward her, reaching out and begging to be petted like dogs. She let her hands dangle by her sides, touching any plant she passed by. The horse tail ends of the wheat tickled her fingers.
She half expected the cypress tree to disappear as she got closer to it. The tree remained very real, however. Real all the way until she stood in front of it and could breathe in its unique scent.
“Where did you come from?” she asked.
“My apologies, they tend to grow where I walk.”
She knew that voice. Those deep, honeyed tones that were sweeter than ambrosia and called to her like the sun called to the roots of a plant. She peered around the cypress and there he was.
The shadowed, dark man who had made such an impression on her in Olympus. He stood in a black chiton with a gold coin holding it closed at his shoulder. The golden edges of the chiton were embroidered with scenes of a hunt. But when she peered closer,