Chapter 10: Peach Blush and Obsidian Curls
* Content Warning: This chapter has
mention of prostitution and explicit language. *
Josephine and her counterpart walked through Troy with ease. The
surrounding shops and merchants intrigued them, and they stopped every once and
a while to take a peek inside and gape at the trinkets they found. The
difference between Olympus and Troy was rather obvious—the cobblestone was no
longer white and there were no hints of gold or magic anywhere. Besides the two
goddesses, they were surrounded by commonfolk.
The architecture in Troy also fascinated the girls. They’d never seen buildings
made of clay and brick, but that’s all that the buildings were composed of. Smoke
was dancing out of chimneys and music sounded faintly in the distance.
They arrived at the brothel around sundown. It was a small building
located at the east part of Troy—almost eight miles from Asclepius’ keep.
Josephine and Persephone trekked through the streets of Troy for almost three
hours before reaching the metal doors of Hermes’ side hustle.
“We need to act as if we’re two of his whores,” Persephone flattened her
dress, “I’m almost certain he won’t recognize us. There are over five hundred
gods and goddesses that are participating in the Trials. Our faces won’t stand
out… hopefully.”
Josephine couldn’t help but think negatively. Hermes wasn’t close with
her father or her mother but based on what happened in the last Trial with
Dimitra, she wondered if Hermes would recognize them. Surely, he knew
that Persephone saved Josephine. Not to mention she already hated the idea of
acting like a prostitute—what would her mother really think of her, then?
“I can’t promise I’ll be good at this,” Josephine took a deep breath and
fixed her hair, tucking the stray pieces behind her bare ear, “And if he
touches me, I’m going back.”
Persephone knocked on the door and smirked, “He won’t even get the
chance.”
An older woman opened the door, her long red hair braided to the side
and the wrinkles between her eyebrows creased as she studied the two girls, “I
don’t remember asking Goddess Keleaona for any more girls.”
“We’re a last-minute gift for your loyalty to our Goddess Keleaona,”
Persephone curtsied, “She specified that Lord Hermes would have his way with us.”
Josephine stood there, faltered. She didn’t dare look the woman in her
eyes as Persephone lied—she would break. The woman furrowed her eyebrows and
stepped to the side, “I see. Well, the other girls are in the powder room to
your left, but you may help yourself to any outfits in the dressing room. Lord
Hermes likes his women… Well, you’ll see. You have fifteen minutes to get
dressed and cleaned up before I escort you to his quarters.”
The woman escorted them down the hall, through the lavish hallways that
transformed the place from a brothel to a palace. Magic radiated everywhere,
Josephine could feel it in her skin, in her lungs, in her fingertips—as if she
could grasp it. She wanted to grasp it.
They arrived in front of an open door. Two other girls sat on ottomans
on opposite sides of the room, dressed to the nines in barely any clothing.
Diamonds draped their necks, and their eyes were painted in the most exquisite
artistry Josephine had ever seen. Her draw visibly dropped. Persephone elbowed
her side, causing Josephine to correct her facial expression.
“This is Joy and Ophelia,” The woman paused, glancing at the newcomers,
“As I’m sure you know this already, being followers of Goddess Keleaona.”
Josephine and Persephone both nodded coherently and awkwardly fixed
their footing. They’d been on their feet for so long, their toes were starting
to get numb. The two girls inside the room nodded in Josephine and Persephone’s
direction but did not make eye contact, as they were intently focused on their
appearances in the mirror. The girl with the obsidian curls, Ophelia—Josephine
guessed, was brushing her ringlets out lavishly as she hummed an old child’s
tune. The skinnier of the two, Joy, sat contently as she ran a peach-toned
blush over her tanned, olive skin.
“Make yourselves at home. My name is Helena, by the way. Please call if
you need anything. Fifteen minutes,” Helena reminded.
Helena left the four girls to themselves. Josephine entered the room
first, making herself comfortable next to Joy. Josephine hesitated but settled
down in front of the vanity to the right of Ophelia.
“So, where do we get our outfits?” Josephine asked. Josephine knew she
asked just to break the awkwardness because Helena clearly told them to look
through the dressing room.
Joy tilted her head upwards towards the door in the back of the room, “That’s
the dressing room.”
Josephine stood up and walked cautiously towards the door. For all she
knows, Hermes could already have been aware of their arrival. Maybe Helena sensed
they were fakes and was heading straight to Hermes right now to tell him all
about it. It didn’t ease her mind at all that she was with other girls—being as
they weren’t very talkative and seemed as though they’d rather complete this
assignment themselves. She opened the door to find clothes of different colors,
brands, and textiles. Light beamed from the crystal chandelier above,
illuminating the sparkles and diamonds stitched into every outfit. Most of them
resembled lingerie--- something that Josephine wasn’t familiar or comfortable
with at all. She could feel Josephine’s presence behind her.
She turned her head to find the Goddess of Spring overwhelmed by all the
choices, “Well, let’s get to it then.”
Josephine sighed loudly and was drawn to a white see-through tunic and a
slitted skirt that was obviously meant to show more leg than anything else. Persephone
hovered by the red pieces.
I can’t believe I’m doing this right now.
Josephine changed quickly and returned to the sitting area. She stared
at herself in the mirror. All she could see was her mother. All she saw was home.
She scanned the numerous amounts of makeup in front of her, from
eyeshadow to mascara to face paint. Perfumes lined the perimeter of the mirror—Hermes
favorite scents, she assumed—ranging from her mother’s brand to Hera’s. She
didn’t know what to touch first, or if she even needed to touch any of it at
all.
“I sense something… weird, about you two,” Ophelia spoke, her yellow eyes
locked on Josephine.
The daughter of Ares froze. Persephone’s muscles strained as she swiveled
the ottoman towards Ophelia and her counterpart, “We’re just here for the same
reasons you are.”
“And that is?” Joy chuckled, “Gods, I wish I had a reason to be here.
Life would be so much easier.”
“Tell them, Sister,” Ophelia joined the laugh.
Josephine and Persephone giggled along with them in order to keep their
identities hidden. Surely, they could smell Persephone’s magic. Josephine was
grateful that she didn’t have any magic…yet.
“What are your names?” Joy asked, fixing a smudge of eyeliner in the
mirror, “Helena never said anything about us having four today.”
Josephine hesitated and connected eyes with Persephone. She could almost
hear her say: Make something up. Don’t be that stupid, Princess.
“I go by Ana,” Josephine nodded at Persephone, “And this is my sister, Naiomi.”
“Ana and Naiomi,” Ophelia hummed, leaning back in her chair, “Just a
word of advice, Lord Hermes doesn’t like fake smiles. Fix yours while you can.”
Persephone’s smile faded and she straightened herself and cleared her
throat, “Why, my smile is certainly—”
“Cut the shit,” Joy murmured, turning to face Josephine entirely, “I don’t
know who you two are, but you definitely aren’t followers of Goddess Keleaona. We
are not ignorant.”
Josephine thought right then and there they’d try to kill them. If they
were always seeing Hermes, they’d hate to split the pay four ways, and
especially not with fakes who claim the goddess that they worshipped. Josephine’s
hands started to sweat.
“Alright!” Helena strode into the room, her delicate yet manicured hands
positioned behind her back, “You all look marvelous! He is going to be
enthralled! Let’s go girls, his Lord is waiting for you all.”
Josephine couldn’t be more grateful for Helena in that moment. Persephone
stood up quickly and hurried out the door and into the hallway. Josephine
followed shortly after. As they walked back past the entrance, the girls could
feel Joy and Ophelia staring into the back of their heads—probably planning how
they should kill them.
They existed the main building and into the courtyard,
where a man and two others sat at a intricately painted glass table. One man
looked over the age of sixty, his gray hair was tucked neatly under a cap. A
cane sat at his side, and his eyes were intently drawn to the poker game that
was in play. The man in the middle was handsome yet intimidating. A scar ran
from the top of his forehead to the bottom of his lip, through his left eye. He
didn’t even glance up as the girls approached. Then, there sat Hermes. His eyes flickered upwards at Persephone, Josephine, Joy and Dahlia.
“Ah! There you are!” Hermes exclaimed, a joyous smile plastered across
his sick face, “I appreciate you being on time.”
Helena nodded and stepped back, giving Hermes a clear view of his new
toys, “Will these women do, Lord Hermes?”
He took a second but eventually stood up, his eyes grazing each and
every one of them. He stopped at Josephine, smiled wider, and then diverted his
gaze back to Helena, “They will do just fine. Thank you. Now, leave us,” he
said, turning back to look at his fellow poker competitors, “All of you.”
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