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A pile of fresh clothes sat on my bedside table, a note on top of it. My stomach dropped, dreading what I would read. No doubt, it would be something along the lines of, “please get your ass out of my place and never darken my doorstep again, freak.”

Go on, Kleos. You’re a grown-ass woman. Deal with the consequences of your drug-induced actions.

I unfolded the smooth, thick paper. Naturally, his writing was perfect: long and inclined letters that gave the impression of speed and ease, while the result looked like professional calligraphy.

“Kleos,

Some clothes and slippers, in case you don’t feel like putting yesterday’s outfit on again.

Please drink some water.

I instructed the house to lead you back to my wing once you’re ready—just call out.

Breakfast will be waiting for you in the kitchen. Eat.

I have errands to run; depending on when you emerge, I might be out, or in Theke.

LSR.”

It was sweet, and much friendlier than what I’d expected, but it didn’t change the fact that he was avoiding me.Errands, my ass.He had good reasons, so I didn’t blame him one bit.

I put on the panties, loose cream lounge pants and teal silk top he brought me, along with the fluffy pair of purple slippers in my exact size, gathered my belongings, and shoved them intomy purse before calling out, “I’m ready, house. Manor?” I didn’t know what it preferred.

By the time I stepped out of the room, a glowing blue rune hopping in the air in the corridor, so I darted out after it.

“Thanks for finding me,” I said, feeling a bit awkward about it.

I was talking to a rune which was part of a house. But clearly, everything here had a level of consciousness, and it wouldn’t be right to ignore it. The rune flashed brighter, as though to reply,you’re welcome,and led me through the maze of corridors.

We took a different path from Monday, as we didn’t need to stop by Lucian’s lab, so we reached the entry in no time.

Back in grand hall, with its checkered white and dark green flooring, marble columns, and arched ceiling, I hesitated as the rune zoomed to the right staircase. Maybe I should just go. Spare myself further shame by slipping away.

But that wouldn’t do. I needed Lucian’s help, and his library. My pride couldn’t get in the way of this investigation. I just had to apologize, and assure him I’d keep my distance from now on. He knew I’d been drugged. He wouldn’t kick me to the curb, would he?

I steeled my resolve and started to walk towards the stairway when the main doors opened before Lucian, followed ever so closely by Phobos.

Oh, gods.

I’d never seen him like this, not even last night in a fancy suit that sell for more than the average weeklong Caribbean vacation.

Lucian was in full regalia. I recognized the style, as both of my parents owned similar outfits. My father wore his one time, at his first election. My mother only put hers on at the end of the Pandia, Zeus’s festival. It was the biggest event of the year, and as the head of Zeus’s temple, she granted the prizes to whoever won the Godly Games—duels, races, contests.

His was spectacular: a high neck, severe silver shirt, stitched with what looked like white gold threads, under a dark blue silk waistcoat, and a damask suit with gold buttons, just as delicately embodied as the shirt at the lapel. Over it, he wore a capelet, perhaps less dramatic than Ronan’s dark, floor-length cape from yesterday, but just as regal, with its pattern of fleur-de-lys, oak leaves, laurel, and peacocks. A gold chain attached to two shining brooches held it in place.

Anyone who’d met that version of Lucian would have rightly concluded that they were dealing with a prince.

“Ha, you’re up!” He smiled easily, not seeming at all bothered to find me in his house again.

I made myself smile back. “That’s quite the outfit.”

The corners of his lips hiked farther up. “Yes, a necessary evil while dealing with the council of elders. I can dress the part, or waste half an hour getting chastised for failing to do so.”

So, he honestly had been busy. It was reassuring that he hadn’t left just to avoid me. “You had a council session on Saturday morning?”

“Yes: an emergency one, in fact. Follow me, please. We ought to sit down, and perhaps have something to drink for this conversation.”

My stomach dropped.