Prophecy of the Most Beautiful (20 page)

They weren't at the Chateau anymore and the whiteness behind the door had transformed into a lush penthouse somewhere high above a city. She could see the city's skyline outside two glass double doors that led out onto a half-moon terrace from across the room.

The twins and Swindle had made themselves comfortable on the coffee bean-colored leather sofas arranged in a semi-circle in the middle of the living area as they discussed the battle with animated gestures and used some meds Ace had retrieved from a nearby cabinet to mend their battle wounds. A fine, chocolate oak table sat between them on top of a colorful rug covered in persian designs. The floor itself was made of high-quality hardwood and the walls were built up of smooth stone after smooth stone of gray, white, and charcoal that were carefully placed on top of one another in alternating patterns. At one point the wall opened up into a great hearth of a fireplace that looked as if it had recently been lit. Ashes and charred wood remained and a hint of smoke still teased the air.

Here and there, antique tables displayed intricate statues and delicate art pieces, and a floor-to-ceiling bookcase showcased the owner's diverse collection of literature. Paintings of green landscapes and rolling hills, gardens and forests (no people), decorated the walls and a great black iron chandelier hung from the ceiling as teardrop shaped crystal light bulbs lit the entire room.

Stairs led up and away from the space in all four corners of the living area. Chloe could only imagine what vast domains lay at the top of them. A luxurious bedroom, for sure. A kitchen, perhaps, maybe even an office or fitness room. Whoever lived there obviously had the money to blow and the sky was the limit.

"Wha's doing, Red?" Strafford asked, his attentions turned to her, "Do these bruises hurt bad?"

"No. I'm…I'm fine," She managed as his thumb grazed her busted lip, "I'm fine. I'm not hurt…bad."

She didn't know what she was anymore. The only thing she knew was that he smelled so good and was holding her in those ripped, tattooed arms and she never wanted him to let go. But she noticed something else too. While the rest of them looked like they had actually been in a fight, he looked perfect. Whatever wounds he had incurred during the battle were long gone now, and only a few rips and spats of blood on his pants proved he had even been there at all.

When she assured him again that she was was fine, he nodded once and let her go. There was a beat of silence, then, he leapt for Ace and yoked him up by his collar. The boy’s toes barely brushed the ground, he was lifted so high.

“How did her bloody face get like this?” Strafford growled, shaking him. “Why weren’ you protectin’ her?”

She grabbed his arm in protest. The other demigods didn’t even attempt to interfere. Probably smart of them. “Let him go, Strafford. It’s not his fault.”

“
How?
” He shook Ace again.

“It’s okay, Chloe,” Ace said on a choked breath, “I deserve this.”

“No. Strafford, the boy had to have already been there when I came back from hanging with Swindle. There’s no other explanation. It’s not Ace’s fault.” She gave his arm a little squeeze, then stepped back and waited for him to drop his brother.

He did, but it took a minute. "
Heal her
," He snarled, then let go.

As soon as his feet met the floor, Ace was digging in his cabinet, pulling out meds for her. But he was smiling, no doubt because he had just evaded a serious beat down.

"How did they get in, Strafford?" Theseus asked, bandaging his own wrist, "How did
demigods
breach the Delphic Chateau?"

"Maybe you should call up Apollo and ask him," Strafford said through clenched teeth, pacing now.

Theseus looked shocked. "Are you trying to say our
dad
let them in?"

"I'm not
tryin
' to say anythin'. Wha' I
am
sayin' is tha' you jus' don't walk into a god's home like it's a museum or somethin'––not without it being their will. Apollo's essence wasn't protectin' the Chateau."

"Why would dad leave us open to an attack though?"

"Who the bloody hell knows? There's no way he didn' know they were comin'. Maybe he wanted us all to die. Maybe he sent them himself. I wouldn' put anythin' past the bastard."

"I wonder if you weren't the Prince would dad keep letting you call him a bastard," said Hector, who was nursing a black eye with a bag of ground herbs.

"He is a bastard, isn't he?" Strafford replied. "Zeus's wife is Hera, not the nymph Leto, his mother. He's nothin' more than a mistake, jus' like us."

Hector frowned. "That's harsh, bro. True, but harsh. I don't like to think of myself as a mistake." Strafford only shrugged as if to say "The truth hurts".

"Well, I'm
dying
to know what
Hades
wants with you, Chloe," Theseus said, "I mean, he sent a freaking legion of demigods to kidnap you and take us out. What's up with that?"

Strafford sniffed. "We'll, tha's an easy one to answer. She's
Pythia
."

In perfect succession, Hector, Theseus and Swindle's mouths dropped open. Ace had clearly already known this and seeming to have moved past their little spat, he and Strafford exchanged a kind of knowing look. But whatever they knew, they didn't share.

Chloe crossed her arms, even though Ace was fixing her up. "Okay, what does that name really mean, 'cause Strafford looked just like that when we first found out it was my celestial name."

No one answered. No one was
going to
answer. Not about this they weren't. She didn't even bother repeating herself.

"Well, doesn't that just about change
everything
," Hector said, leaning back on the couch.

"Understatement of the
century
," Theseus added.

"Well, at least you're safe
here
," Swindle said, his intelligent eyes studying her, "For a little while anyway."

"Where is here?" She asked, avoiding his eyes, and the twins' curious looks as well. She looked up and around, her gaze drawn back through the glass doors. The bright sun gleamed off of a stained glass window of a nearby building reflecting off an array of colorful prisms.

"The Prince's Tower," Ace replied, finished with her examination. He had impressed her by healing her busted lip with a little instant herbal balm he had concocted and the swelling was almost nonexistent because of the herbs. He gave her some kind of strange pill for the pain her many bruises were inflicting and it worked miracles.

"Where is the Prince's Tower?"

"New Elysium, a province of
Myth
. The kingdom is made up of several provinces."

"The Prince's Tower," She repeated. She turned to Strafford. "You live here?" It wasn't what she had imagined the Sun Prince would live in. She had expected game systems, a stage with a microphone, futons with bean bags as foot rests, posters of rock stars (not of L.A.), a smoke machine maybe, but not the sophisticated lair of a man twice his age and wisdom. And
definitely
not an entire tower.

He had been watching her and nodded. "I do now."

"So this is
your
tower?"

"Are there any other Princes present, wan?"

She frowned at his ill-timed sarcasm. "A simple yes would've done just fine."

"Maybe." He was relentless! It was like he was doing it on purpose!

"Know what? You can be a real prick sometimes."

"You have no idea, wan…" He replied as he slowly raked his eyes over her, from head to toe. She fidgeted where she was standing, feeling totally hideous in her bloody PJs, ready to fast ball one of the statuettes at him.

What was up with
that
? She had thought he didn't like her. And how dare he do it with everyone watching? How dare he make her the center of his attention and get off on knowing that there was a chance she was liking it? And yes, she was liking it. His satisfied little smirk said he already knew that.

He licked his beautiful lips, real slow. So
unfair
. She had no defense against a move like that, and he knew it.

Then, as if she had been nothing more than a painting he had been admiring but had found a flaw in, he shrugged, turned and disappeared up the far left staircase.

And once again, she'd been shut down.

Ace let out a low whistle. "Aye, if only
I
could make a wan blush like tha'…" He looked at her reddening face and chuckled. "All right there, wan?"

"
What the hell is a 'wan'?!
" She exclaimed irritably, feeling the chagrin brandishing her cheeks.

"It's slang for 'girl'. Tha's all." He stared at her. "Do you need a bev or somethin'? A
drink
," He quickly added.

"No."

"Don't feel bad, Chloe," Hector said, "His Highness does that to all of the girls."

That did
not
make her feel better in the least.

"Strafford's impossible," Theseus said, pushing open the terrace doors, "Forget about him. This view is a great way to do that. Come look." She nodded. She would do almost anything to make everyone stop staring at her like a statue on display. But forget Strafford? Not in this lifetime.

She had imagined New Elysium would be a city like New York, modern and shiny, with block after block of modern structures, littered sidewalks, and streets jam-packed with taxis and pedestrians.

She should have known she would be wrong.

After her eyes adjusted to the almost blinding sun that pierced down from above, she realized New Elysium was so much more than that––modern, yet kind of whimsical and full of history. It was like a city right out of a fairy tale.

New Elysium was an endless maze of stuccoed skyscrapers, small bricked castles, marbled temples, stone cottages and perfectly-laid cobblestone streets. The fantastical feel of the city gave Chloe a foreign sense of nostalgia which she associated with the new Knowledge in her head. The castles, the temples, the statues of gods that were erected at every intersection, the old cobblestone streets, had all been around a long time––since the very beginning of the province's creation. She could feel the unexplainable waft of immortality, the enchanting presence of the gods that somehow managed to be present without ever being seen, and could feel their power that penetrated the air like electricity. It was a city made by the gods, marked by the gods, and ruled by the gods.

The skyscrapers were daunting structures and New Elysium was filled with them, ones that seemed to touch the edge of the sky and ended in stylized peaks, and others that had fancy turrets and well-designed cupolas. Castles and Greek temples blended in beside them as if they didn't at all belong in the make-believe, perched on stretches of land surrounded by moats or gardens of flowers and fruit. She couldn't have imagined a city more amazing, but as Ace informed her as she ogled over the side of the terrace, she hadn't been to Olympus.

The city was bustling with a bunch of different types of people––the
immortals
celeste
, or
iceys
(a misspelled play on
I.C.
)––the demigods informed her. Many were dressed for more modern times, but more were dressed as though they had just stepped out of some time machine. There were knights in armor, courtesans showing too much cleavage, horned-hatted vikings, monks with shaved crowns, shady men in pinstripe suits, flappers with shiny dresses, teeny boppers in poodle skirts and roller skates, and it went on and on. But somehow, everyone blended in with each other, and with all of the different time periods mixed in together, no one seemed out of place.

The sky was so blue and bright, so clear and domineering, and the clouds were so close that she could practically wrap herself inside of one like a blanket. She could no longer deny that she was in the heavens. Only something divine could create such beauty. Only the gods were capable of manifesting such wonder.

"Wow…" She breathed, just as Bill decided they were all boring him to death and took to flight.

"So what do you think, Chloe?" Swindle said, perching himself on the wall's edge. "You like?"

"It's awesome," She replied, still taking it all in. "I thought the Chateau was something…when can we take a look around?"

"Not any time today," A voice said from behind her.

Strafford had returned and this time, thank the gods, he was wearing a shirt––a sleeveless tee that displayed his tight, muscular arms, which wasn't much better when she thought about it. He stepped out onto the terrace and the sun kissed his olive skin, giving it that bronzed statue glow again. And jeez, did it have to make his eyes sparkle like that, too? Poor, dead Maxie could've never looked this good even in his wildest dreams.

She tried her best to ignore him.

"Twins, I have a mission for you. You'll have to leave right away."

Strafford's glare squashed their protest immediately and the twins made fists and circled them around their hearts. "Your Highness," They said in unison. She watched them curiously, still not understanding what the gesture meant.

Strafford spoke again. "I'm not likin' wha' jus' went down and I think the Oracle's family might still be in danger, so I'm sendin' the two of you back to Adel to guard them."

Chloe jerked around to face him.

"
Adel
? You're sending them back to Adel?"

"Aye. They're your family's guardians. I thought it might've been safer for them now tha' you're with us, but…" He paused to study her. Then shook his head. "No. You're not going with 'em. It's too dangerous."

"I want to see my family," She replied flatly.

"I know," He said, almost compassionately, "And you will. When
I
feel it's safe to."

She crossed her arms. "And what if you never feel it's safe to?"

His gaze did not waver. "Then you'll never see 'em."

She gasped. "But you can't do that! You can't keep me from them! They're my family and they probably already think I'm dead!"

“I can do wha’ever I want. My first duty is to protect you.”