Page 64 of The Gods Forbid

I opened my mouth to respond, but Sebastian’s low rumble beat me to it. “Though I appreciate that my absence has been noted, I would appreciate if you’d give us a moment.”

Aren nodded and I fought a scoff. Of course, she would listen to him. “The gallery containing most of your work is around the corner and at the end of the hall.”

Sebastian nodded graciously, already turning to leave. Aren stepped in front of him, extending her hand. “It was lovely to meet you.”

Sebastian hesitated, just for a moment, before placing his hand in hers and shaking once. Even that felt like too much. My chest was starting to feel tight.

Aren paused, waiting for Sebastian to return the compliment, but he didn’t. With one last, clearly disgruntled, look in my direction, she left us.

The second we were alone, I took off towards the gallery she’d pointed us to. I could feel Sebastian close behind.

“Well, she was lovely.”

A response of Oh, was she? was seconds away from leaving my mouth.

“She was.” That sounded passively believable.

I was walking so fast, the sound of my boots hitting the floor echoed through the empty hallways.

“In a rush, love?” Sebastian asked, easily keeping up with me on his strong, long legs.

I didn’t answer him until we were walking through the archway leading to the back gallery. “You have plans with Penn,” I said, a smile clear in my voice. “It’s important that you—”

Whatever else I was about to say died in my throat when I steeped into the middle of the gallery, surrounded wall to wall by Sebastian’s paintings. I had seen them before, I knew what they looked like, but seeing it up close was an entirely different thing.

They were so realistic, they looked like photographs. At the same time, they looked nothing like a picture, the detail and imagery so otherworldly perfect that it couldn’t possibly be captured by a camera.

He was so, so talented, in a way that made my heart twist in my chest. The question I’d been wanting to ask him fell from my lips unintentionally. “Why did you stop painting?”

“I was painting this morning,” Sebastian returned, his voice lazy but with a bit of tension underneath it.

I turned, finding him closer to my back than I’d realized. I was still feeling jittery and tense, and being this close to him wasn’t helping. I walked over to the far side of the room, towards a landscape that immediately elicited a warm wash of comfort in my chest.

The painting was full of soft pinks and oranges, depicting an ethereal view from the banks of a small lake, looking out over the water. On either side, the cliffs shot up in an almost vertical line, creating a steep valley dotted with trees and flowers and a million other small plants I could spend hours staring at.

Though I’d never seen it, I imagined that was what Elysium would look like, where souls went to rest after a kind life.

I pulled myself out of the daze I was in, remembering what I’d asked Sebastian. “Why did you stop painting before?” I asked, forcing myself to turn from the painting. Apparently, he’d followed me over here, standing mere feet away.

Sebastian rubbed his hand over his jaw, something I was realizing meant he was unsure. I gave him the space to answer, and eventually he spoke. “I just couldn’t do it. Every time I tried to pick up a brush, even if I got as far as putting paint down on canvas, I couldn’t make something.”

It was obvious there was more to the story, but I didn’t want to push. Especially when the memory of what I’d tried to discuss with him last night was still fresh in my mind. I really, really wanted to know why he’d said he didn’t want to involve me, but I was trying to forget about it.

This was about him remembering why he painted. “Did you miss it?”

Sebastian released an incredulous laugh. “Every day.”

“I’m glad you have it back,” I said, my voice a touch too soft. Recovering, I pointed over my shoulder. “Tell me the story of this one.”

I expected him to smile, but his face fell. “That one is called Afterlife.”

“Why?” I pressed softly.

Sebastian’s eyes drifted over my shoulder, his gaze narrowing as he focused in on the painting, like he was being reminded of every detail he’d included in the painting. I wanted to ask him about it, beg him to tell me what had inspired him and what the process looked like, but I need to let him offer up the information.

Sebastian ran his tongue over his bottom teeth, studying the painting intently. “That is what peace looks like to me. I would hope someone was able to rest there. Finally find some peace of their own.”

Thank the Fates he was looking at the painting, because I could feel my own face falling when I realized what he was talking about. In all likelihood, Afterlife was a gift to Penelope. His hope that his sister found somewhere to find rest.