The God & The Shadow

Chapter 57

FLORENS

"Take care of her," he whispered to Florens as he laid her gently on the bed, careful to not let any of the bloody cuts on her feet touch the cold sheets.

The goddess simply rolled her eyes and dismissed him with a flick of her fingers pointed to the direction of the door.

She'd been summoned by Lore earlier by one of the few castle servants that did not fear the goddess of witchcraft, to which she'd protested greatly against. Only the incessant begging of the servant made Florens acquiesce to the god's request.

They might've hated her for it, but she didn't want to do anything with Persephone. She didn't even want to look at her.

It was a spit in the face from Demeter and that damn witch she had with her. Only someone as powerful or better than Florens could've blocked her powers, but they somehow managed to do just that.

She despised all of them, Persephone included, even if she carried the very same face as her friend.

"Veronica," she whispered, looking down on her. It was infuriating how she was so close to them, all for her mind to be filled with bullshit memories and the 'teachings' Demeter had implanted in her brain, as Hermes had told her in a panic earlier.

To no one's surprise, Persephone didn't react. It was a pathetic attempt, of course. It would've been like walking up to a stranger and calling them a random name.

Scoffing, Florens began cleaning her. She didn't care whether or not she would wake, all Lore had instructed was to take care of her. If Persephone would jump back to consciousness, she wouldn't even bat an eye.

But to the goddess' chagrin, all she did was stir a little and make a minuscule sound. Even when she began cleaning her feet, Persephone didn't move.

Florens wondered if she'd slapped her in the face if she'd wake then.

Luckily, she stopped herself from doing so and finished sooner than she thought. The goddess on the bed was dressed in clothes too big for her lithe figure, Lore's own from the wardrobe behind her no doubt. It was sappy at most how he still clung to such a practice even though the woman on his bed wasn't Veronica.

Stepping out the room, she wasn't even fazed to see Lore leaning against the wall. It was a clear sign that he didn't trust her enough to do as she was told, and he was right to. Florens didn't even trust herself as much.

"She's fine. The girl didn't even wake up." She quickly said when he lifted his head to look at her.

"I know she is," he pushed off and began walking off. Florens rolled her eyes before she followed him. "It is you that needs checking up on."

She snickered. "Why?"

"You treat her as if she wasn't your friend. You called her an impostor earlier." He told her casually.

"Because she is one," she countered defensively. "Persephone isn't my friend. Veronica is."

"Veronica," Florens froze as she watched her friend turn to her. The way he said her name sent a chill up her spine. It carried too much deeply burrowed pain and grief that she knew he would never admit. She knew because the mention of her name held the same effect on her.