Fingers stained black

Chapter 16

Adora

We inform Persephone of our plans and she listens intently. It is mostly Mora and Brone talking. Penelope and I stay silent, not wanting to talk in case we anger the queen. When we finish talking, she leans back in her chair, and lets out a puff of air.

"Look, I know that that was not my husband. That was not the man I married that day. But, do you really think this is a good idea? Your father is old. It could simply be that he has finally snapped."

"You know that that is not the case, mother." Brone snaps, cutting off his mother and glaring at her over my head. "Something is going on and I will not rest until my father is put to justice."

He rests his hands on the back of my chair, and I can feel the heat emitting off of him in waves. I can hear his heavy breathing behind me and it takes all of my willpower not to turn to him and rest my hand upon his tense muscles.

"You are right. But I am handling it. You should not have brought Adora into this." She looks at me with a small smile. "I think you have forgotten, Brone, it was not you who was held at knife point that day. And if we are wrong about this you are just putting her in even more danger."

"Adora can take care of herself..."

"So can your father." She snaps back, raising her voice. "Just because you have been training her for a few days does not mean that she can hold her own against the gods, Brone. What happens when it was your father's choice to do that? We both know that you will not be able to fight your father. That day at the race you could barely accept that you had hurt him. What do you think you will need to do if he gets ahold of Adora again? No matter how much you love Adora, you will not be able to save her from your father if we are wrong."

Her voice lowers and she rubs at her temples. My cheeks flush at her words and my muscles tense. He does not love me. She must be mistaken."Trust me, Brone. I want more than anything for your father to be innocent. But you did not know him before, well you. Your father was a cruel man, Brone. And I cannot protect you from that truth forever. I will do my part in your plan, but you must promise that you will be completely and utterly sure that you are correct when you make your move."

She stares at her children. I look up at Brone, watching as he nods before one of his hands drops to my shoulders, rubbing onto it. I grip his hand in my own, looking back up at Persephone. I offer Brone the comfort that he needs now, knowing that this may be one of the last times he makes contact with me in a genuine way..

With a wave her hand, Persephone dismisses us, and the warmth of Brone is gone. I rise from my seat, and follow the others as we make our way out of the room, following one of the servants. But I am stopped by the sound of Persephone's voice calling out my name one more time.

"I like your dress." That is all she says before she puts her head down and continues to scribble on some paper. My face burns a bright red as I walk away. She must know that it was one of her children who supplied me with these dresses, and I can only hope that she believes it to be her daughter.

It is the next morning when Persephone meets with us again. We are here for another four days before we travel back to Athena's house. I have already worn the most modest dresses that Brone had packed for me and I am dreading putting on the dress that lies in front of me.

It is not the most scandalous but it is not modest by any means. The blood red dress has a deep neckline that reaches just underneath my breasts, and has a black corset that is around the middle. The rest of the dress floats out to the floor, but two long slits travel up each side of my legs, exposing my thighs. Nevermind, this dress is completely scandalous. Once again, the dress does not allow for a strophic, and so I have been forced to wear the scraps of fabric that Brone has given me.