Page 119 of Charming the Rogue
“Helios and Helen will both answer to Hel.”
“Ominous.”
“And if you’re not fluent in German, Hesperus will try to trip you up linguistically.”
“I already accept defeat.What next?”
“Arty and Althy will chatter all night long about death and mummies and sirens luring men to their deaths.”
“Charming.”
“Oh!”Sybil stopped in the doorway and set a serious hand to his shoulder.“You must not accept anything Ajax gives you.”
“And Ajax is?”
Sybil pointed near Apollo’s feet.
Apollo looked down.And jumped.“Good God, when did he get there?”
The smallest boy, Ajax, stared up at him with unblinking eyes.
“Does he talk?”Apollo asked.
Ajax kicked him in the shin.
“Fu—uuuunny little fellow, isn’t he?”Apollo hopped on one leg and massaged the bruised bone.
The little boy swaggered into the parlor, tossing over his shoulder, “Of course I can talk, you insulting jackanapes.Now, are you going to join the rest of the ranks in charades, or are you going to lounge in the doorway all evening?”
Sybil and Apollo joined them, taking seats near the large windows.All the chairs in the room—some large, some small, some padded and plump, others wooden and rigid, some plain brocade, others rich, blush velvet with golden tassels—had been pushed to the sides of the room, and forgotten teacups and plates and pots of tea that seemed to steam continuously, no matter how long they’d been sitting there, were scattered around the room.A rather sleek grate warmed by clean, eternal coal was surrounded by an ornately carved mantle, green tile, and a clean stone hearth.The room was so different from everything Apollo had grown up with.It was small and cluttered and…
Happy.
Happy sat uncomfortably on Apollo’s shoulders.He didn’t quite know what to do with it.But he soon did not have time to think about the matter overly much.
Hesperus announced charades, and Sybil bounced in her chair.“I’m horrible at acting, but rather good at guessing,” she told Apollo.
Apollo had never played before.He turned out to be horrible at guessing but wonderful at acting.
He’d also never been given a glass of whisky by Temple before, but he accepted it, only a little worried it might be poisoned.
And when everyone laughed together, it felt like his heart might explode.And when Sybil’s mother patted him on the shoulder it felt like he was part of the raucous circle.
And when Sybil rubbed a circle into his silver sleeve button and turned it gold with wink, he murmured, “Crafty minx.”
And when she looked for one second unsure of herself as her father expressed concern about her safety working in a forge, he held fast by her side to give her strength.
And when Sybil set her hand in his and kissed his cheek, it felt like the only bit of the world that mattered was in that very room.
He’d finally found his soul.
And his soul had found its home.
* * *
