Page 41 of The Gods Forbid

Calpurnia’s office was … nice, I supposed.

Decorated with warm wood and comfortable furniture. Complete with soft, soothing art. I was also pretty sure I could hear the light lilt of piano filtering through the room. All carefully selected to make people feel comfortable and free to open up.

It had the opposite effect on me, my shoulders growing tense with the feeling that I’d just stepped into a cage.

I sat down on the plush, dark green couch, shifting and setting my legs wide in a casual stance. For good measure, I crossed my arms over my chest.

Calpurnia moved slowly, grabbing a file and pen off her desk before finally sitting down in a gray chair across from me. Crossing her legs and adjusting her glasses, she opened the file, scanning it quickly.

When she looked up, I had the distinct realization that she wasn’t letting me out of here without at least one honest answer.

“Well, good morning,” she began formally. “What would you prefer I call you? Sebastian or Lord Apollo?”

“Sebastian or Apollo is fine,” I grumbled. I didn’t love the formality of my official title, despite what others might assume. If someone was forced to guess, most would probably say I liked with the fame that came with being a god more than anyone.

The truth of that assumption was still up for debate.

Calpurnia smiled, tilting her head. “I like Sebastian. It’s a fine name.”

I let out a low grunt in return. I liked my name just fine, except for the fact that my father had picked it out.

As if Calpurnia could read my fucking thoughts, she settled back in her chair and said, “Tell me about your family.”

I breathed through my nose, trying to take measured breaths. I could already feel the anger and rage building. Better to keep it short lest I risk saying too much. “They’ve passed on.”

Calpurnia’s head tilted. “Who?” If she did that every time she didn’t like the way I answered her, we were going to have a problem.

“My parents.”

It was the truth, but she wasn’t satisfied. “Anyone else?”

It wasn’t a secret, but the thought that someone had told her made my hackles rise, fury and grief starting to twist my chest tight. “My sister.”

Calpurnia’s face remained passive, though I was pretty sure her hand twitched, like she wanted to get that pen working. “I thought you were an only child.”

I had to clench my jaw to prevent my teeth from grinding together. “Artemis.” I was certainly fucking not speaking her name in front of a woman who I didn’t trust. No matter how much instinct told me otherwise.

“You don’t consider Diana to be a sibling?” Calpurnia’s head tilted another inch towards her shoulder. I had half a mind to spill my life story just so she stopped doing that. It was the physical embodiment of a long, drawn out interesting.

“I do,” I admitted, just to stop another head tilt. It was of no matter I hadn’t spoken to Luce in any real capacity in years. Or that if pressed, I’d begrudgingly admit that I felt their absence.

Calpurnia pursed her lips, finally lifting that pen. Though not to write, to gesture towards me. “Then your family isn’t all dead.”

I forced myself to take a breath. “Creative.”

Calpurnia nodded once, like that had answered every question she had about my family. She barreled through the next topic like it wasn’t a topic most would skirt around from fear I’d try to kill them. “Why did you try to overthrow Adrian?”

I shifted down further on the couch, flexing my legs to try to restrain myself. “Because I could.”

Calpurnia took off her glasses, leaning forward, crossing her forearms over her knee. “Now, that I actually believe.”

“Really?” I said, raising one eyebrow. She wasn’t getting an ego boost from figuring me out so quickly, so I kept my response and face passive.

That didn’t deter Calpurnia from looking like she’d just won an award, a smug smile plastered on her face. “You’d be much angrier if you were passionate. I don’t even sense an ounce of investment in that plan.”

She could call me out for evading things all she wanted, but that didn’t mean I still wasn’t going to do it. “I can see why Persephone likes you.”

Calpurnia leaned forward even further, and I almost quipped that she should just move her chair if everything I said made her that interested. “What makes you call her that? I know she prefers Persy.”