I’d made it to mid-January.
Somehow.
Surprisingly, the crucible had ended with a whimper, not a bang. Just another week of studying, lectures, starvation, and a test. Just like that, we were done.
I’d survived.
Then why do I feel dead? Can I really endure an immortality with these emotions?
I rubbed at my tired eyes as I stared at the rack bursting with ball gowns.
They can always cut you into tiny pieces or starve you into a coma.
The thought calmed me.
Outside the open French doors, the Ionian Sea glittered. Streaks of sunlight reflected across the luxurious fabrics.
Green foliage fluttered outside as Corfu’s mild breeze filled my bedroom.
All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for days, but the Initiation Ball was tonight.
The ball was supposed to introduce us to all of Sparta. It was a celebration for completing the crucible, then tomorrow at dawn, we’d have our graduation ceremony in the Dolomite Coliseum.
I groaned with exhaustion.
Shivering, I blew into my hands to warm them up.
Even though the temperature was pleasant on the island, my fingers and toes were permanently frozen. They’d yet to fully thaw.
“What do we think?” Helen asked as she gestured to the rack of dresses with a Chthonic crown sparkling atop her head.
She’d burst into my room this morning. I’d groggily sat up in bed, and then she’d screamed in horror.
I’d thought we were under attack.
When she’d started wailing about frizzy hair, I’d slumped back into the soft pillows with relief.
She’d finally calmed down enough to speak and had explained that Patro put her in charge of making me presentable for the Initiation Ball.
Now, I stood in my oversize emotional support skull sweatshirt and waited for instructions.
Nyx was wrapped around my neck, snoring.
“Here are all your options for the ball,” she said. “Do you have any questions? Concerns? Ugh—I know, it’s not enough choices... you’re probably freaking out right now. But don’t worry, everyone will be disguised. So you can mingle with everyone in Sparta without worrying about House biases. Since the Great War, they love to do masquerade balls to promote unity.”
Dozens of diamond bracelets clacked together on her wrists as she gestured.
“Oh, Kronos,” Helen said before I could respond. “Now I’m freaking out too. We are both reallypanicking.” She fanned her face. “This can’t be good for our pores.”
Personally, I felt very calm.
This is the least stressful thing that has literally ever happened in my life.
“Do you have any wrinkle cream?” Helen grimaced. “I keep tensing accidentally. All the stress is getting to me.”
Do they really make a cream for wrinkles? Why?
I stared at her perfectly smooth skin. “How old are you again?”
