“Eleos,” I said. “Something you said back in Ikaria’s been bothering me.”
“What?” He muttered.
“What did you mean?” I asked. “When you said, ‘I seek to fill my heart, but never with myself?’”
Eleos snapped his journal closed and looked up. “Tell me something good about yourself.”
Snorting, I brushed my hair behind my ear. “You ask the impossible.”
“That’s what I mean.” He said. “You never afford yourself grace, but you’d happily give it to others.”
“I think you have a much higher opinion of me than you should.”
“See?” He raised an eyebrow.
Pursing my lips, I stared back at him, wondering what he saw within my mind. I was envious of psyches. Right now, I’d give anything to peer into him and learn what dwelt beneath the calm surface.
“You’re a psyche.” I waved a hand idly. “Can’t you fix my head, or something?”
“I could make you feel happiness, or pride, but it would be fleeting and fake.”
“Give it a try. I’m curious what it feels like.”
Taking my hand, Eleos cupped it between his. “I have to lure you toward the emotion I want, remember? What draws you toward happiness?”
I thought for a moment. “Tell me I’m pretty.”
“You’re very aesthetically pleasing to look upon, Lady Aethra.”
I laughed. “I’ve never heard that said less romantically.”
He smirked, a tiny half-smile, barely there. Slowly, my troubles washed away, tossed into the depths of my memories and forgotten. Warm, bubbling joy swam to the surface, a sea of yellow against the night. Pleasant humming sang to me at the back of my skull, like a melody my mother might have sung, had she loved me.
It lasted only fleetingly. Though the sensation was wonderful, it fell into a maelstrom of sorrow, unable to escape the storm. My face broke as tears brewed at the corners of my eyes, though I wasn’t sure what had summoned them.
Eleos released my hand. “Something fake only magnifies the truth.”
“Maybe,” I murmured, longing to feel his fake joy instead of my own sorrow. Year after year, my hatred had grown tiresome.
Wretched girl. Hopeless.Meaningless.
“Besides,” Eleos mused, “Happiness is better found the old-fashioned way.”
“There’s an old-fashioned way?” I raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t anyone tell-”
Eleos cut me off, gently cupping my face and kissing my cheek. His fingers traced my cheekbones, slowly drawing a line across my skin. Grabbing a loose lock of my hair, he gently tucked it behind my ear and returned to his journal, flipping it open again.
Startled, I raised my hand to pull him back, but then lowered it.
A tiny half-smirk curled his lips. Bastard.
Whisper barked, alerting us to his master’s return. Seth twirled a new knife between his fingers. “What do you look so happy about?” He asked.
“Nothing.” Eleos tucked his journal away. “Found yourself a reward for your good deeds?”
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Seth unsheathed the little blade, but it didn’t look much like a weapon of war. It was all handle, no blade. A tiny speck of steel emerged from a curved wooden hilt.
“It’s a little small.” I offered.
