Painted Blind (30 page)

“I’ll find one.” He pulled the sandal off my foot and disappeared. While he was gone I washed my hair and wrung it out.

The razor he found was an old-fashioned straight blade. Thomas sharpened it on a leather strap before holding out his hand. “Give me your foot.”

“No way.”

He offered me the razor handle first. “I’m surprised at you. It looked as if you had a man servant.”

“Did you recognize him?” I wanted him to leave, but he wouldn’t. Most likely he had orders not to leave me alone.

Thomas lowered his eyes. “Yes, it was Titus.” Behind him scarlet curtains hung floor-to-ceiling on either side of a narrow stained glass window. Firelight flickered from the other side of the colored panes.

I studied the razor briefly then propped my left foot up on the side of the tub and pressed the razor against my skin. It seemed simple enough, just drag the blade up my leg. When I did this, it didn’t scratch the hair away. It peeled away a section of skin an inch wide and six inches long. Blood gushed to cover the wound.

“Stop!” Thomas shrieked. “You stubborn girl. You’re going to get me cast into the fire!” He grabbed a towel and blotted the blood. Then he rummaged through a cupboard and found a jar of balm. “Give me that razor,” he demanded.

I relinquished it willingly, as Thomas smoothed balm over the cut. It itched, but the bleeding stopped and within minutes, the skin healed. After rinsing blood and skin off the blade, he gripped my foot. When I shied away, he held on tighter and muttered, “Don’t move,” through gritted teeth.

Not many things were more terrible than having a demon shave my legs with a straight razor. When he reached my knee, he slid the blade right over it and up about four inches. Seeing I’d gone completely rigid, he relaxed his grip on my foot. “I’m not going to hurt you. You can trust me.”

My body didn’t relax. “Says the demon from Hades,” I muttered.

He shook the razor under the water and made another pass up my leg. “You’ve been well warned.”

“Not well enough, obviously.” I made sure plenty of bubbles covered me before I let him near my arms. He didn’t so much as nick me as he scraped the hair from my underarms. It was mortifying as much as terrifying. Demon or not, Thomas was still a guy, and I had really hairy armpits. Being raised by a man somehow had not prepared me for male servants. Between Aeas, Titus, and now Thomas, I’d be lucky to escape with any dignity at all.

When he was done, I sank far into the water, but Thomas lingered. Finally, I came up and said, “I’m ready to get out.”

He held a towel like he expected me to step into it. Not a chance.

I snatched it from his hands. “I can dry myself. Wait in the other room.” As soon as he left, I hopped out and dressed in a hurry, afraid that he’d come back.

My satchel lay on the counter where my clothes had been. I carefully took out the box from Aphrodite then looked for a place to hide the satchel. If they wanted to keep me here, all they had to do was steal my exit plan, and I would be stuck.

I snooped around the bathroom until I found a loose cupboard. I managed to stow the satchel in the space between the cupboard and the stone wall.

“Much better,” Thomas said, when I returned to the bedroom. “The dress is stunning on you.” After inspecting me he said, “You should braid your hair. All the women here wear braids.” Then he touched the chain around my neck and the ring that hung upon it. “Take that off.”

“No,” I said firmly. “It belongs to Eros. I will wear it when I meet Persephone. As for my hair, I don’t know how to braid.” I held up the box from Aphrodite. “I want to see the Queen now.”

“I could send for a maid,” he offered, still looking at my hair.

I wasn’t going to let anyone else touch me.

Frustrated, Thomas went to the dresser and came back with a brush and comb. He took the box from my hand and motioned me to sit beside it on the bed. “I’ll braid your hair,” he said.

I laughed without meaning to. “You? Come on.”

“I’ve been with Persephone for five ages. I sleep at her feet. Sometimes she doesn’t care for maids, so she’s taught me all sorts of tedious things.” He drew the comb across my scalp and parted the hair, then brushed the divided sides before braiding my hair into a crown that circled my head. I could see him in the dresser mirror as he deftly worked his way from side to side. “Why don’t you know how to braid?”

“I never really had a mother.” I didn’t feel like explaining Jill to him.

“My mortal parents died before I was grown. I survived on the charity of our neighbors. I worked the fields alongside their children, and they fed me.” He looked at me in the mirror. “That’s all I remember of my mortal life before Aphrodite found me.” The braiding done, he pushed the ends into the crown with the point of the comb.

I fingered the finished work and tipped my head to see it in the mirror. “It’s beautiful.”

“Now you’re fit to meet Persephone.”

The Queen’s throne was located in the opposite wing of the palace. The throne room was rectangular with high, vaulted ceilings and red tapestries draped between the buttresses. Stone floors and walls kept the castle cool despite the heat outside. As we stood at the doors waiting to be admitted, Thomas put out his hand shoulder high. “Don’t hold onto me. Just rest your hand on mine,” he instructed. Persephone’s court followed strict protocol, and if I wanted to gain her favor, I had to follow their customs flawlessly.

In my other hand I carried the box I received from Theron at the beginning of the task. It had come all the way from my modest hometown in Montana to the most awe-inspiring mountains in the mortal world, and into the depths of the earth to be handed over to Persephone, the Queen of Hades. A sentry announced me, and Thomas led me slowly down the long, red carpet that ended at her feet.

Persephone had dark, flowing hair that reached past her elbows. She wore a headdress of feathers and woven gold, which shifted like dancing flames as she moved. Her dress was red like mine, but far more intricately embroidered. Up each arm she wore bracelets of gold, and around her neck she wore her husband’s pendant. While Aphrodite’s pride kept her aloof, Persephone was beguilingly friendly. As I approached, she greeted me with a smile.

“The mortal Psyche, my Queen,” Thomas said, “delivered without harm, as instructed.” As I curtsied—a movement I practiced four dozen times upstairs before Thomas was satisfied I could do it right—he took his place beside the Queen’s throne. He knelt and rested his forehead upon her knee.

Persephone ran her hand over his hair, petting him like a dog, while she considered me. “The mortal beauty I’ve heard so much about.”

“I was instructed to bring this to you, Queen Persephone.” It was appropriate for me to approach her standing, but to curtsy again as I offered her the box.

She took it from my hands and set it on the arm of the throne. “Well done, my dear. You have completed the third task, and by so doing, you have won the right to see Eros again. To celebrate, I hold a feast in your honor.”

A feast.

I remembered well Titus’s warning about food. Worse, I was hungry. Very hungry. It had been hours since I ate those half-frozen MREs, but I refused to lose my composure or to anger Persephone. “You are very kind,” I said. “Thank you.”

This pleased her. “Come, Thomas. Escort our guest into the banquet hall.” She rose, her bracelets jingling as she moved, and came toward me. “I hope you’re hungry,” she said, then led the way out of the throne room.

Thomas appeared beside me and offered his arm.

“I can’t go into a crowd,” I murmured. The skin on my arms and back was exposed. Anyone who brushed against me would feel my warmth.

“You must not displease the Queen,” he answered.

Despite Persephone’s claim, the task was incomplete. She hadn’t opened the box. Persephone had to unlock the metal clasp on the box and reveal Aphrodite’s reward before I could return with it to the mortal world. I was forced to keep playing the cordial guest until she allowed me to leave the palace with the open box. I had fulfilled my end of the task, and now I was at her mercy.

We crossed the enormous corridors of the castle to a room as big as my high school’s gymnasium. Around the perimeter were throngs of guests, dressed in fine robes and awaiting their Queen. In one corner were musicians, their instruments idle as they stood with folded hands, also waiting. On the far side of the room were several maids and man servants, all dressed in black and waiting for their duties to begin. Long, empty tables stood along one side of the room. Along the other side on a raised platform were two ornate chairs for the reigning couple and half a dozen smaller chairs for their guests. Long, empty tables stood in front of these seats also.

Persephone waited for the sentries to announce her. The already hushed room fell absolutely silent as we walked to the chairs on the platform.

“You will sit here beside me, Psyche,” she said softly. “Thomas, you may sit on her other side.” Persephone raised her arms. “Let the celebration begin!”

The room burst into motion. The musicians began to play. The waiting guests filled the dance floor and began to move in unison. A set of doors was thrown open, and each maid and man servant fetched a tray of food for the long tables.

Because we sat with the queen, we were served first. A cracked peppercorn roast adorned with sprigs of rosemary was brought to our table. The succulent aroma of roasted beef and hints of garlic made me salivate. One of the man servants sliced off generous portions and slid them onto plates the size of serving platters. Next, he spooned wild rice. By the time he finished, my platter contained meat and rice, steamed beans, a thick slice of bread, a slice of cake, a small bowl of pudding, three strawberries, a slice of orange and a sprig of parsley. It was simply beautiful, and I could not taste one morsel, or I’d be condemned to a life of slavery in Persephone’s court.

I sat on my hands to keep them from betraying me. My belly rumbled, and I tried to breathe through my mouth, so I couldn’t smell the food.

Persephone ate, so did Thomas. The guests filled their plates and moved to round dining tables beyond the dance floor. A couple paused halfway to their seats. The man fed his companion a strawberry from his plate. She accepted it enthusiastically, and made a great show of licking his finger as she took it.

Thomas leaned toward me, a small bowl of pudding in his right hand. “This is my favorite dessert here at court. They don’t make it often.”

“You can have mine,” I replied.

He dipped his spoon into the pudding and held it toward me. “You don’t want to try it?”

I felt his eyes mocking me, but I replied, “No, thank you.”

The room rose into a jovial din. When all the guests had full plates, the large doors opened again, and five man servants rolled out an enormous fountain. After moving it to a prominent location near the dance floor, one servant went around the back and cranked the pump until the fountain flowed with wine. A cheer rose from around the room.

Guests crowded to fill their glasses. Three more servants poured kegs of wine into the fountain until it nearly overflowed.

Thomas rose, took the three glasses from our table and filled them, serving Persephone’s, then mine, then his own. As he settled into his seat, he savored the wine. “It’s very good,” he told me.

I slid my glass closer to his plate and tried not to notice that my throat was scratchy.

By far the most handsome group in the room were eleven young men who stood together at one end of the ballroom. All of them wore clothing identical to Thomas—black robe, scarlet sash, a gold cord at the waist, and a golden band around the left bicep. They ate standing and remained apart from the rest of the guests. They varied greatly in appearance. Some were dark while others were blonde. All were muscular, although a few of them were slighter than the rest. Even among the immortals, they held a singular beauty. I realized that if Thomas stood among them, he would match their form and beauty perfectly.

“Who are they?” I asked him, raising only my chin to point.

“Persephone’s attendants, the Royal Guard.” When I eyed them again, Thomas asked, “Is there one among them that you fancy above the others?”

“They are all beautiful.”

He leaned closer and murmured, “You could choose any one of them, and she would give him to you for tonight.”

I was stunned that he offered this so freely as if I expected it. “To entertain
me?”

“Of course.”

I sat back in my chair, and looked into Thomas’s worried eyes. “I was under the impression you were assigned to entertain me?”

He bowed his head. “If you don’t like me, she will give you someone else.”

I tried hard not to grin. “Is there anyone in particular you’d recommend?”

As he sipped wine, his eyes went carefully over the entire guard, then to me. “No,” he said finally, “there isn’t.”

I sighed dramatically. “Then, I guess I’m stuck with you.”

He realized then I was teasing him, and he chuckled softly. His teeth were perfectly straight and made his smile brilliant.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Persephone watching us.

Thomas offered me his hand. “Will you dance with me?”