A God's Mercy (Apollo x OC)

Chapter 27

The following days were simple, Melantriche couldn't remember how many. A month, 2 even? Whatever it was, it felt like eternity. During this time she got used to chores. Cooking, cleaning, bathing babies, etc. They no longer seemed new or exciting. Then again, nothing did. The fancy room she'd been in, she now found out, was her own. Apparently everyone had their own, even the lower slaves. She now knew a fair bit of her own way around the island. Nonetheless, she still held a tight fist on Karana's skirt wherever they went, mostly because Melantriche would feel awkward on her own, and because of another thing. It seemed that nymphs had a penchant for pranking others, because Melantriche found herself a victim at least 3 times. A bucket of ice water dumped on her head, the gooseberries in her pies somehow becoming something called chickpeas, and getting shoved into a pig pen. That last one had been one to remember, because she shrieked as loud as a siren and Karana, with the aid of a stable boy, had to whip the hungry pigs aside and fish her out. She emerged muddy from head to toe and horribly stinky. Then everyone around laughed at her. If Karana hadn't been there to yell at them all, she would have wept. And get this: she knew who the perpetrators were. She recognized them from Apollo's welcoming, the group of girls who had teased her then. Not all of them at once, but each time it was a different few of them. Melantriche suspected that it was the beautiful blond girl encouraging them, because she often caught sight of her from around a corner or other, giving her a glare down.

"Karana," she mumbled one day when they were peeling potatoes. "who's that girl over there?" Karana looked up carelessly.

"Oh, so you've finally noticed her."

"She's been here the whole time."

"Yeah, that's Ivy. See that wreath she's wearing?That means she's one of our supervisors. Gods alone know why, though."

"I don't think she likes me."

"I don't think she likes anyone, especially anyone who's prettier than her." Melantriche flushed at her half-peeled potato.

"I'm not that pretty."

"Whatever. Just don't get your underwear in a twist. She's a right down priss, and a real unbearable bitch when you get down to it, but she's too scared to break a nail over anyone." No, but maybe she'd get someone else to do it for her. All that besides, Karana wasn't a supervisor, but she was hardworking and well respected to almost everyone else on the little island. Melantriche felt much safer with her around. She didn't mind the woman's griping and groaning, either, really she didn't. Hearing about all of Karana's problems made Melantriche feel better about her own, the fact that all this time, Apollo had not come again.
She knew that it was better not to dwell on it, but she had the mindset of a woman stuck in love. Even though by now she accepted that she was only a fleeting interest to him, it still made her stomach nauseous with grief to know that. It would be very hard to get married now—if she wanted to in the first place. Some days, she wondered if wherever he was, he could be thinking of her, however brief the thought might be.

Today was one of those days. Melantriche had, by some miracle or other, become adept enough in the kitchen that she didn't need to concentrate on every slice of onion she made. It was very relaxing, all this cooking. She didn't have to bend over or be terribly precise, like with sewing, and she could allow her mind to fly somewhere and let her hands do all the work. She'd only managed to cut herself 2 times thus far, and it didn't much bother her. Today she decided to make a pork stew—happy revenge to the little beasts that almost ate her!—out of the leftover rinds that had been preserved from last night's supper, which was pork chops. She chopped the pork into hefty chunks and spread them over the pot. As she spread around the grease, chopped veggies and poured wine broth into the mixture, her mind wandered to Apollo. In a jaded kind of sadness, she wondered what he might be doing at this time. Probably wooing a princess that was much much more charming than her. It was to be expected, she guessed. Gods always fell in love with princesses in the stories. You never hear about them falling for lowly slaves, or generally normal people. Even though she couldn't blame him, her eyes started to sting. Must've been the onions. She did like to put a lot of onions in. She heard the door creak. She'd been expecting her good friend Karana, but when she did turn around her mouth went dry. A short shirtless man with horns and deformed furry legs. "Eedi."

"Finish that soup as soon as possible, girl. I'm feeling rather hungry." She didn't know what else to do but bow her head in respect and go back to what she was doing. Only now, her bitter daydreams were gone and she couldn't relax into her zone again. A supervisor was here in the room with her, and no one else. He might not even like the stew. Calm down, she told herself. Karana said he just eats and leaves. It can't be so bad. Even so, Melantriche was much more careful of what she decided to put in the food. Every now and then, she would glance around and see Eedi staring her down. He's trying to find something I'm doing wrong. She was so flustered she burned herself. Then she fretted over whether she should start baking new bread or just use the ones they made earlier. But then he would have to wait even longer, so she just reheated the bread near the stove again. As politely as she could, she placed a bowl of the stew, the bread, and a cup of cold milk in front of him. Then she scurried off to the corner in as dignified a way as she could and pretended she was occupied with something else. She had tasted the stew. It was spicy. The satyr ate one spoonful and then stared at it. Gods above, help me. He went back to eating. Almost audibly, Melantriche let out a sigh of relief. She started cleaning up the ingredients, sweeping, organizing the spices in the jars. Karana said that you could stop onions from making you cry by putting a piece of it on top of your head. She forgot to check if it was true. Then she jumped when she felt the hand of Eedi clamp on her shoulder. "I've never had such good food before, Melantriche." He was smiling at her. Struggling to find her voice, Melantriche squeaked,

"I—T-thank you." He flashed a grin full of large teeth and clopped out the door, right past the tall silhouette of Karana. From the look on her face, she was about to drop the basket of radishes she was holding.

"No." She growled, looking livid. "Fuck. No."

"W-what?"

"I see now. Eedi has a thing for you." Melantriche paled as Karana threw the basket down onto the table, nearly spilling its contents.

"No way! He was just here for a snack, t-that's all."

"He thanked you. He never thanks anyone, except for people he likes. No offense to you, Mela, but my cooking is better than yours. I'm telling you, stay as far away from him as you can. He's a legless little runt." Disappointment rose in Melantriche's throat.

"You're being ridiculous, I think." She went back to chopping vegetables for later, but she couldn't shake off the crawling sensation she got when he smiled at her.