Eleni’s eyes blazed. She dropped the dress and paced across the small room to grab Alea’s chin.
“Look at me. Youmustmarry that boy.”
“Ma—” Danae began, but her mother rounded on her.
“Gods help me, Danae, you’re a woman now. You should know better. Your father and I can’t support you forever. How do you think you would live? We would be shunned, all of us.”
Danae pressed her lips together and bit down on the insides to stop them trembling.
Her mother smoothed her apron and sighed. “We’re going to get through this. But you must trust me, both of you.”
It was agreed that Danae, Alea and their mother would visit Thaddeus the following morning. Her father should have been with them. But that night, when Odell returned home and her mother told him of Alea’s condition, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he took himself off into the yard with a jug of wine he didn’t bother to mix with water.
The girls lay on their pallet and tried to ignore the clashing of their parents’ voices outside.
Alea faced the wall, her back to Danae.
“Are you afraid?”
There was a pause.
“No.”
“Good, because I’m going to be with you. For everything.”
“I know.”
Danae wondered how to articulate the thought that had gnawed at her since Alea’s return. It felt so large and tangled she didn’t know how to begin.
Eventually she said, “I know you don’t remember, and you don’t have to talk about it if anything does come back...but you can if you want to... I just... I want you to know that.”
More silence. Her bones felt heavy as she rolled over.
She closed her eyes, but even after her parents grew quiet and retreated inside, sleep ran from her like a shadow chased by the sun.
Danae stared at the large wooden door as her mother rapped the iron knocker. She squeezed her sister’s hand, hoping to reassure her. In the end, her mother had chosen the blue tunic for Alea. She looked perfect, if a little pale. Her hair was elaborately coiled, the owl brooch proudly pinned to her chest. There hadn’t been much time for Danae after preparing her sister, so her mother had just wound a strip of fabric around her unruly mane and put her in one of Alea’s old green tunics.
Even dressed as they were, people were staring. Philemon and his family lived at the other end of the village, where the big houses were. They had separate rooms and proper wooden shutters. Danae was excited to see inside. She’d never been to a merchant’s house before.
The door opened. Philemon’s mother stood in the doorway. She was blond and willowy like her son. Her face was unnaturally pale, painted with white lead. It was a trend that had floated across the water from Athens. Fashionable or not, she looked half dead.
Philemon’s mother smiled dreamily and intoned the sacred greeting. “You’d better come in.” She stood back and wafted an arm toward the interior of the house.
Danae suppressed a gasp as she stepped inside. The house was built around a small garden. A large olive tree grew from a central patch of perfectly manicured grass, stretching up to the sky between an open square of terracotta tiles. Stone pillars held up the roof and rooms sprouted from each side of the garden.
“You have a lovely home,” said Eleni.
Philemon’s mother breathed a soft “hmm” and beckoned them into the garden. They sat on benches beneath the olive tree, specks of sunlight sprinkled on their laps.
Philemon’s mother clapped her hands, and a boy in a loincloth scampered out from one of the rooms. Danae glanced at Alea. It was rare for a merchant to be able to afford a slave. Thaddeus’s business must be doing very well indeed.
“Bring wine.”
“Oh, just water for us. Thank you,” Danae’s mother said quickly before the boy could leave.
Philemon’s mother sighed. “Bring both.” She threw them another languid smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We weren’t expecting you.”
“Yes, sorry to surprise you like this. I was hoping to speak to your husband.”
