A God's Mercy (Apollo x OC)

Chapter 23

There was a dragonfly buzzing around on the windowsill. And the sunlight seemed so particularly bright today, something that would have been extremely pleasant if Melantriche weren't... well, Melantriche. Beams of fragrant light dappled gorgeously against the little bug's wings, causing them to glitter iridescently like a rainbow. Vaguely, Melantriche recalled a particular necklace Mother had, all gold beads dripping with tiny teardrops of amber. A smooth and thick pebble was enlarged in the center. Even though it was pitch black, particles of it would sparkle orange, green, and purple. It was a gift from her father, when he'd come to court a much younger Leida. Some day, she'd promised, Melantriche would have pretty jewels of her own...

"Ahem!"

Melantriche jolted, feeling as though she'd been whacked soundly in the head. The woman sitting on the opposite bench glared at her. She was a very beautiful lady, tall with flawless tan skin and hair the color of caramel. Her hard eyes glittered green and dark gold. They were a slight intimidating, really. 3 wicker baskets were piled neatly at her feet. A half-finished one lay in her lap. Meanwhile, there was Melantriche, still on her first basket and not even half-way finished. Even then, she'd done a completely shoddy job of it. Patches of the weaving were misplaced and sloppy. Somehow, without realizing it, she'd entangled her fingers in the strands of dry grass.

"How long have you been working at that one?"

Melantriche flushed, a loss for words. "I... uh..."

"Well, while you've been chewing the fat all afternoon, I've done more than half the work. Haven't you labored a day in your life, dove?"

"I-I'm sorry, I just..."

"Humans." The woman sneered. "I assume you were a rich one, hm? I've been in the company of princesses who are more efficient."

"I'll... I'll try harder. Promise." Melantriche struggled to keep her lip from trembling, that uncomfortable heat creeping up her neck. The woman snorted and returned her attention to her own work again.

"Honest of gods, why bother sending for help?" She was muttering. "His Majesty always picks the daft ones."

Melantriche stared hard down at her work, pretending the words didn't sting very much and she was actually applying herself to her task. Not to be misunderstood, she was glad to have something to do. It helped to keep her mind off of... other things. Sort of. Not really.
She tried to make sense of what was even happening, she really did. It was frustrating that the amount of things she could recall was comparable to a pinch of salt. She woke up here, in this strange place. A palace, probably. This room had the sort of architecture like a temple, only that a normal one would crumble in comparison. She'd woken, passed out on a heap of silky covers and vibrantly-embroidered cushions all piled up on top of an enormous sofa. At the edge of the room was a section outlined by extravagantly pillars that looked to be carved like beautiful women. There was a carpeted space laden with a glossy, reddish-looking wood table, more cushions, and countless vases full of sweet-smelling things—flowers that looked like tall lilies and daffodils and other things she couldn't name. Tall gossamer curtains flowed from the window near her, where she could see a cluster of gorgeous flora clouding the view of a garden. A morning shower was happening, and yet the sun was orange and glittering through the falling droplets, like a golden chandelier. It was so much to take in, there in her only just woken state. Perplexed was an understatement as she strained her brain to remember the past few days. It was all very much a blur, and this felt too much like a dream. Tentatively, she reached out to touch a statue's face. Its ivory nose was smooth, cold, and very much real. Her hand flew back to her side, shaking.
A glance to the window. She could crawl out from there if she wanted to. The vegetation might've been able to cover her up and—no. She couldn't dare think any more past that. Utter damned straw head, what was she even thinking? That maybe 2nd time was the charm? She felt like slapping herself.