Divinity

"Who says I want to be engaged?"

Kai

In theory, if a Roman girl and a Greek boy fall in love, we could be an example to everyone else. In that theory, I am the Roman girl and I am to be forced into marrying Hermes, the messenger god.

   I have to bite my tongue to refrain from calling him Mercury. Because that’s all I’ve known him to be. The bronze skinned boy sits across from me, his head buried in the table, Zeus and Jupiter on either side of us.

   “I don’t understand why you two are so hesitant to espouse!” Jupiter says in exasperation.

   “Wouldn’t our parents have to agree beforehand?” The boy asks, speaking for the first time today.

   “Izek,” Jupiter begins.

   I roll the word over in my mouth.

   Izek…

   “Not only are you an orphan, but also, since you’re over the age of eighteen your foster father would have no jurisdiction over this decision-”

   He’s an orphan...

   “Well then, it’s decided. I’m not getting married.” Izek says. He slams his fist against the table, rising out of his chair.

   “Hermes.” Zeus says sternly. “Get back in your seat, now!”

   Izek glares at Zeus before slinking back down in his chair. He keeps his eyes locked on mine and doesn’t lift them.

   “And Kaitlin, do you have any major objections to this proposition?” Jupiter asks, sloshing his coffee in a placid white cup.

   “Aside from the fact I’m only sixteen?”

   “Aside from that,” he prompts.

   “Well, who says that I would want to be engaged to Hermes? Isn’t he too old for me? Who’s to say that I really want to be tied down to a husband at sixteen? And anyways, what’s the point of this?” I toss as many questions at him as I can.

   “The citizens of Reme reflect the behaviour of the Divine. If we can respect each other between the Divine than so will the general public.”

   “But what’s the population of the general public in Reme? I mean, who would want to live here? It’s literally just the Divine.”

   “It’s enough to justify the marriage. And it wouldn’t be Kaitlin and Izek who’ll wed, Diana and Hermes will be the ones getting married. Just get along, kiss a couple of times. Nothing major,” Jupiter shrugs.

   “It’s technically impossible though.” Izek says. Finally, if only momentarily, he lifts his eyes from mine. “To us the other doesn’t exist. To me, Diana is just another name for another group of people. To her, it’s not Hermes, its Mercury.”

   Even Zeus’ otherwise composed face flinches.

   “That’s exactly what we’re trying to prove.” Jupiter says after a long pause of careful consideration. “Diana and Artemis are the same and so are Hermes and Mercury. If a child can grasp that idea then maybe, with the right example, we can make the rest of Reme believe it too.”

   “Child?” Izek echoes. “You think I’m a child?”

   Jupiter shrugs. “Yeah, you still are.”

   “What makes you believe that?”

   “You haven’t proven yourself responsible.”

   “And what would I have to do for that.”

   “Oh, I don’t know a noble act in the struggle for peace, perhaps, even if it means sacrificing your own happiness.”

   “A noble act like marriage?” Izek leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the mahogany table; his grey eyes locked on Jupiter’s.

   “The thought crossed my mind.” Jupiter shrugs, leaning back in his own seat.

   “Countless times, I bet.” Izek raises the corner of his mouth in a menacing grin.

   “Not really, I mean, it hasn’t left, since it’s the only thing. You. Can. Do.  If you want to keep your title as Divine, that is.”

   I hold my breath, Izek’s eyes grow wide and he throws his chair aside, storming out of the conference room.

   “You can’t do that.” I snap, my attention focused on Jupiter. “Divinity isn’t something like a prime-minister, where you can stroll in or out of it whenever you’d like. It’s a dedication. It’s for life. And it can’t, no, won’t be taken away from me.”

    “Yes, failure to comply with this marriage will result in the stripping of your Divinity.” Jupiter says. “Do you think you should go and talk to Hermes?” He suggests. I nod and quietly slip out of my chair.

I wander through the maze of crisp and gleaming white marble walls. I find a heavy, mahogany door with brass detailing, which looks somewhat promising. I push on it, heaving with the effort.

   The library has a musky, papery scent that wraps around me and the air is thick. Bookshelves stretch out for what could be a kilometre. The spines of each book have a layer of dust over them and made of leather.

    When I do find Izek, he’s hunched over a book with thick, creamy pages. When he notices me, he slams to the book down shut. “Hey.”

   I can barely reply. He was incredible! He has long, brown hair that falls messily over one of his eyes, misty grey eyes and chiselled features. He’s attractive. Undeniably. Incredibly.

   I indulge in his god-like looks for a moment before snapping out of it. “Uh, what are you doing here?”

   His eyes fleet to the book, which has a distressed, torn leather cover and black cursive writing before flying back to mine. He pushes it behind him. “Nothing.”

   Hot and mysterious.

   “So, Diana.” He draws a deep breath. “Did they tell you about…the peace treaty before?”

   I shake my head. I hadn’t even thought about it. There were just some things you had to go with. And this…marriage….was something that we didn’t have a say in.

   “Are you going to do it?” I ask, slipping into the chair in front of him.

   He carefully considers the question, his grey eyes locked on mine. “Either you’re extremely stupid or just not paying attention, because there isn’t much of a choice in that decision.”

“Do you think?” Izek asks, biting on the tip of his pencil. It was your classic, black with yellow stripes with a red rubber on the end. Somehow, the casual gesture was strangely comforting.

   “Yea.” I nod solemnly. “Do it all the time. Gets pretty tiring after an hour or so, though.”

   He smirks. He looked somewhat like a siren when he did. “Do you think there’s some other reason they’re doing this?”

   “It’s a possibility.” I say, nodding my head to further prove my agreement. “But they would have to wait at least two years for it to be legal, at least on my part. Chances are, they’re going to celebrate it for a bit, flaunt our new ‘union’ and then forget about it.”

   He looks at me with calculating eyes. I watch him consider and categorize me for ten everlasting minutes.

   “You know they say that holding a person’s gaze is a sign of a fierce desire for murder?”

   He dramatically tears his gaze from mine. “I can tell you that from experience."