The Pandora Curse (Greek Myth Series Book 4) (4 page)

BOOK: The Pandora Curse (Greek Myth Series Book 4)
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“Really?” She walked over to the bed, running a hand over the carved post. Her eyes devoured him hungrily. His palms started to sweat and he felt naked in a sense, but still, he did not move. Her attention shifted to the contents on the bed. His cloak lay in a heap, and he had the sudden thought maybe Baruch was hiding beneath it.

“What is this?” She reached out toward his cloak.

He sped after her, meaning to stop her, and that’s when he noticed it wasn’t the cloak that gained her attention. Her eyes were fastened on the vials. The vials she could not touch without being consumed by magical forces and turned to mere dust.

“Vara, don’t!”

His warning came just as she grabbed a vial from the bed and held it up to examine it. He expected her to go up in smoke at any moment. Hera had warned him about this. Still, she remained intact.

“Is something the matter?” She looked at him with a mischievous grin with eyes of yet a different color: silver-gray, and with a translucent glow about them. “Afraid I might break your little trinket?” She laughed and tossed it up. Nikolai snatched it from the air, and then landed himself on the bed next to the other vials.

“Perhaps someday I can show you some of my trinkets,” she said in a promising tone. “And I assure you, mine are much more interesting than a worthless glass vial.”

She headed toward the door, and Nikolai placed the vial by the others and hurried after her, his eyes still searching the room for the minion.

“Come, Calanthra,” called Vara. “You’ll need to instruct the cooks to warm the food, as I am sure it is already cold because of our disrespectful guest.”

She stopped in the doorway and turned to look at Nikolai. He stared at her in confusion. How could she have touched the vial and not be harmed? He sincerely doubted Hera would lie about something like this. Could Vara have some sort of magical power herself? It made him wonder.

“You will be joining me.” Her words were a command, not a request. Being so shaken, all Nikolai could do was agree.

“Yes. I’ll be there momentarily.”

“Good,” she said with a smile. She left the room, and her lady-in-waiting closed the door behind them.

Nikolai looked quickly up to the ceiling, wondering if the minion could hang on to the rafters like a bat. Not seeing him there, he headed back to the bed to ponder the episode with the vials. That’s when he noticed something he hadn’t before. His mother gave him five vials to fill with the five vices of gluttony, greed, anger, jealousy, and lust. Yet here on the bed he counted six.

He reached for the one Vara had thrown down, noticing a greenish tint to it. As he picked it up, it moved in his hand. Then it started transforming shape. He threw it down to the bed in surprise, watching as a green mist formed around it, and it shifted into the shape of Hera’s minion.

“Baruch!” Nikolai jumped backward, grabbing onto the bedpost for support.

The minion finished shapeshifting, and wiped off his arms and rubbed his shoulder. “I don’t like to be tossed around. One more episode like that, and I’m going to hit back.”

“Y - you?” Dumbfounded, Nikolai could only point to the other vials.

“Aye. And a good thing too. You never should have let her get so near the vials. She could have killed herself.”

“You are a shapeshifter,” he said in awe, never having known one before.

“I am a minion,” Baruch said proudly, raising his chin.

“So that’s why Hera said you’d never be seen. You can change into anything to blend into the surroundings.”

“Aye. That’s why. Now let’s go eat. I’m starvin’.”

Three

 

 

Vara’s stomach growled. She pushed away her empty platter and instructed the servant to fill, it for the third time. She held out her wine goblet for the cupbearer to fill and waited until it spilled over the rim.

Food never tasted so good. Or actually, it did. For some reason, she could never get her fill. She loved to eat and drink, and didn’t know what life would be like without this pleasure.

A motion caught her attention, and across the room she saw the king’s little daughter and the nursemaid enter. Her guards stopped them and looked over to Vara. The little girl’s eyes looked so huge upon her face. Her arms and legs were like twigs, and her clothes were bedraggled and torn.

She motioned for her men to bring the girl forward. When they approached the dais, Vara stood to see the small child over the edge of the table.

“What is your name?” she demanded to know.

“I am Agatha. What is your name?” Wide, brave eyes stared into hers waiting for an answer.

“I am Vara,” she said softly.


Vara the Conqueror
?” the little girl asked. “I hear my father’s people cursing that name. They say you are mean and heartless. They say you will kill us all after we give you everything you want. Is that true?”

Bile rose in her throat, and Vara found it impossible to talk. The room silenced as everyone waited to hear her answer. The only men present from Corinth who hadn’t been imprisoned in the dungeon or escaped, were the young pages and the old men. The women and children who once served the king now served her, only out of fear that they would lose their lives.

Why did she suddenly feel like the success of her claim was less than victorious? Hadn’t this been what she wanted for as long as she could remember? To rule? To be feared? To be looked upon with honor and respect? To be a queen? This was victory, was it not? Yet when this child spoke to her, she felt her accomplishments had no meaning.

“Come,” said a guard, leading the little girl away.

“No,” Vara  stopped him.

Her heartbeat hastened. The silence of the room continued. Her mouth went dry, but she knew she had to answer. A ruler who was belittled by nothing more than a child was doomed to failure. She would never have the people’s respect if she could not even face the questions of a child.

“Yes,” she answered. “I am
Vara the Conqueror
. And I am queen now, so you must call me by my title.”

“My mother was queen. She died birthing me,” said the child. “If you are queen, does this mean you’ll be my new mother?”

She gasped in horror of the thought. She had never expected anything like this to come from the little girl. Now she wished she hadn’t answered. The room turned even quieter, and sweat dripped down her brow.

“No!” she snapped and sat back down. “Now take the girl to a table and give her food. And instruct the nursemaid to bathe her and give her proper clothing.”

“My lady?” The guard looked at her, confused. “She is a prisoner. Daughter of the king you’ve conquered.”

“I am well aware of that. Now do as I say before I have you whipped for even questioning my word.”

“Yes, my lady.” The guard hastily hauled the little girl to a table near the back of the room.

The commotion resounded as conversation picked up once again. Vara noticed Nikolai standing in the doorway, obviously having seen and heard everything. A heat filled her pores and she hurriedly drank some wine to quench the burning within her.

He took his place next to her at the dais, settling himself on the wooden chair.

“You are late,” she said, taking another platter of food from the serving wench without even looking his way.

“I heard what you said to the little girl.” He picked up a leg of mutton and started eating.

Vara looked back to the little girl, who was sitting across the great hall. As if Agatha knew, she looked up to Vara and smiled. This did nothing to ease Vara’s upset stomach.

“I don’t like anyone coming late to a meal. Don’t do it again.”

She plucked at a pile of grapes, and it was several minutes before Vara could actually look his way. When she did, she noticed his trencher nearly empty, and he was looking under the table. She took a drink of wine, and when she looked back she thought she saw him putting food into his pouch.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He looked up sharply, as if he’d been caught in a devious act.

“I’m eating.” He scowled. “What else would I be doing?”

He picked up the last bite of food and put it into his mouth. Still, the trencher, an old stale crust of bread being used as his plate, was still intact.

Look at him wasting that good food
. The Furies chose this moment to haunt her head.

It’s so tasty
.

You want it, Vara
.

You deserve it
.

Get it.

She tried to dismiss their persuasion, but her love of food caused her to regard his uneaten trencher once more.

“Aren’t you going to eat it?” she asked Nikolai, licking her lips.

He looked down in front of him and then back at her. “I’ve eaten everything given to me.”

“No, you haven’t. You haven’t even touched your trencher.”

Confusion filled his eyes.

“Trenchers are only to hold the food. Then they’re given to the poor begging for alms.” His lips spread wide with an amused grin. “Surely, you don’t mean for me to eat it?”

“We eat them in my kingdom,” she snapped. “Now, are you going to finish it or not?”

He looked to the trencher and then back to her. With one hand he slid it toward her.

“Did you want it?”

She couldn’t help herself. She snatched it up before it even left his hand. Giving in to the suggestions of the Furies rattling her brain, she sank her teeth into it and tore off a large chunk. His eyes opened wide, and he nearly choked on his wine as he drank.

“By the gods, you can eat!”

Vara stopped immediately. His comment forced her to see herself through his eyes. He must view her as naught more than a greedy sow. The Furies fell silent, and she no longer felt the urge to eat. She threw down the trencher and wiped her hands on the cloth covering the table.

“I don’t like to waste food.”

His eyes wandered down to her stomach and then her thighs, but he didn’t say a word. If the Furies had spoken up just then, she would have had no qualms in hitting him for what she knew he was thinking. She stirred in her chair, eager to leave the table.

He turned and concerned himself once more with whatever it was he was doing with his pouch.

She didn’t like the way he’d just looked at her. It wasn’t a look of hunger for her body as she’d seen earlier. This was a look of disgust. She could only imagine the thoughts occupying his head. If only he knew what she was going through. But then again, would it even matter to him?

Eager to hide behind closed doors, far away from his scanning eyes that said she was twice the size of a lady, she stood so abruptly that the chair behind her crashed to the ground. When she tried to catch it, she knocked over her goblet and wine spilled down her white gown.

“You have no right to speak to me that way!”

He wasn’t even paying attention. The rest of the room’s occupants had stopped eating and were watching her, but yet he kept concerning himself with his bag.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you. What is it that has you so distracted you are not listening?”

She couldn’t tolerate it anymore. He’d barely looked at her during the whole meal, and whatever he had in the bag was driving her curiosity to its bitter end. She had to see what was in the pouch.

She reached out and grabbed his pouch. He stood quickly, but her warrior instincts were faster. Before he could get it, she’d opened it, and stuck her fingers into the bag.

“Let’s just see what it is you’ve been so occupied with tonight.”

She grabbed the first thing her hand touched, and to her surprise pulled out a huge white rat by the tail, tinged with a sickly glow of green.

“What?” She dropped the pouch on the table, followed by the rat. All the women in the room screamed, clinging to the men who laughed uncontrollably.

“Is that what you were feeding at my table?” She felt her face turn red from not only embarrassment but anger.

He cleared his throat and collected his pouch. “It is . . . my pet. Yes, that’s what it is. I hope it is to your liking.”

“I’ve killed rats better looking than this and ate them for supper on the battle field,” she told him.

“Sorry to have frightened you.” He reached out for the rat, but just then the Furies invaded her brain.

Punish him for his disrespect
.

He embarrassed you!

Make him suffer. Show him who you are
.

She needed to teach him a lesson. She grabbed her dagger from her side and stabbed the rat in the tail, skewering it to the trestle table in one motion. The rodent squealed and screeched a horrible trill, and a few of the ladies in the room swooned.

“I told you once. Nothing frightens me.”

His face turned to shock when he saw what she’d just done.

“How dare you hurt an innocent creature for naught more than entertainment,” he ground out.

She leaned closer toward him. “Who said anything about entertainment, seer? I skewered the rat because I’m still hungry.”

Nikolai quickly pulled the dagger out of the table, thereby freeing the rodent. It jumped off the dais and ran through the crowd, causing the women to push and run for the door. The men tried to calm them, but when the rat bit a guard in the ankle, it became an all out quest to kill the rat before it killed them.

“Think about your actions and how absurd they are,” warned Nikolai.

The voices of the Furies were gone now, but Vara would not apologize for her actions. She was Queen of Corinth and could do as she pleased.

Nikolai continued. “I beseech you to look in the mirror once in a while, Conqueror. If you can honestly tell me you like what you see, then I will tell you that what I see in your future is a lonely, cruel, ogre of a woman who cares naught for others, nor even herself. Now if you’ll please excuse me, I have a rat to save.”

He jumped over the trestle table and disappeared into the crowd to save the damned rat. Vara had never seen anything like it. And she’d also never had anyone speak to her so insultingly in her entire life. It also disturbed her that he’d addressed her as
Conqueror
and hadn’t called her
my lady
like everyone else did.

She felt appalled by his words. With the Furies coaxing her along, she hadn’t been able to think straight. She still couldn’t think straight, as Nikolai’s suggestion had made an impression on her that she couldn’t forget.

“My lady?” came Calanthra’s voice from beside her. “Your food is ready.”

Calanthra stood with a smile and very large platter of baked eel, smoked fowl, and grape leaves stuffed with squid. Normally, Vara would not have let anything bother her. She never would have left the table before eating at least four helpings. But tonight, she felt more than hunger. Nikolai’s words hurt her. Though she didn’t heed anyone’s comments, his made her feel ugly both inside and out.

Her head was empty of the Furies for the time being, but now her own thoughts crowded the place they’d vacated. She needed to think. She needed to get away from everyone and everything. Right now, that was more important than anything. Even food.

“I am no longer hungry.” She pushed the platter away.

“But my lady, this is your favorite. The cooks prepared it just for you. You’ve yet to taste the fourth course.”

“Not tonight, Calanthra.”

“Then how about some more wine?” Calanthra nodded to the cupbearer who held up a full ewer of the burgundy liquid. She looked down to her gown stained in red, remembering the look of horror on Nikolai’s face when she’d skewered his rat. It should have bled, but she was glad it didn’t. That would only have made things worse. Look in the mirror, he’d challenged her. Tell me if you like what you see. He’d called her a lonely, cruel, ogre of a woman. His words kept ringing in her ears, and it was more than she could bear.

“I said I don’t want it!”

She took the ewer and knocked it from the boy’s hand, shattering it on the ground. Then she picked up the bottom of her gown and ran for the stairs. She pushed her way through the hoards of people, not hearing a word, not seeing a face. She bolted up the stairs, feeling every inch of flesh on her legs quiver with every step she took. It was as if her own body were mocking her, calling her names with silent tongues.

She didn’t stop running until she closed herself in her chamber and collapsed upon her bed. She buried her face in her pillow and muffled her cry.

He’d called her an ogre, and she knew it was true. She hated herself. Hated what she had become. Nikolai knew her secrets. She had never liked what she saw when she looked in the mirror. That’s why she’d never had mirrors in her room her entire life. She’d always made sure her servants removed them long before she settled inside.

BOOK: The Pandora Curse (Greek Myth Series Book 4)
4.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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