His mother sat at the head of the table. His father was not in sight. Cyrus couldn’t remember the last time he saw Pluto eat though, so the lack of him at the dinner table was little surprise.
Melinoe sat to his mother’s right. The anger was apparent in her eyes. The final two chairs sat at the far end of the sixteen foot table, one at the end and the other two its right. Cyrus walked to the chair to the side, pulled it out and offered it to Marilyn.
She gave him a look that seemed to say “Are you sure?” Cyrus nodded and she sat down in the chair with a weak smile.
Cyrus leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Just stay calm. Everything will work out one way or another. We will survive this.”
Persephone’s eyebrow raised as if she heard Cyrus’s words. Cyrus didn’t make any indication that he even noticed. He couldn’t give her anything, not even a clue.
Cyrus sat down in a seat and finally met his mother’s gaze.
“What will you have of me, mother?”
“Calm down, son. Calm down. This is dinner. We have plenty time for your trial when all this is over.”
Marilyn stared angrily at Persephone. Cyrus put his hand on hers, gave it a squeeze. Remember the plan, he thought. He just hoped she was thinking the same thing.
Stark entered the room. He stood with the same strict straight posture he always seemed to hold. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone, instead simply staring ahead. “Dinner is served,” he announced.
A dozen servants came out of the kitchen, platters in hand. They moved with a practiced grace as they brought the meal to the tables. None of it was a surprise to Cyrus. Most of the staff had been here for decades when he was born.
They placed a pair of platters in front of each person at the table. The servants opened the trays all at once, revealing perfectly sliced beef wellingtons with a simple salad on the side.
Marilyn looked to Cyrus, unsure of the food in front of her.
“It’s fine,” he told her. “It’s just normal food. This place exists between the two planes, but even my parents need to eat. Stark and the chef take great pride in dinner. Great food has never been a problem in this household.”
“Don’t be afraid, little human.” Melinoe’s words came out with a hiss. “The gods are civilized. We will not harm you until the appropriate time. Then I will enjoy your pain. I have exquisite tortures in mind for you.”
“Enough,” Persephone said. “We are not here for threats, Melinoe. The trial will determine Cyrus and his concubine’s fate. Now it is simply a time to enjoy each other’s company, perhaps for the last time.”
“I have a name!”
Persephone acted as though she hadn’t even heard Marilyn’s words. She simply started to eat her food as she looked at her son.
“Enough, mother. You’ve walked among humans for three hundred years. The least you could do is treat them with some level of dignity.”
“Dignity? They don’t even live long enough to make their names worth remembering. Cyrus, you are barely a babe. Someday you must learn to control yourself. Have your fun with the little people but don’t treat them like equals. They are playthings for us, nothing else.”
“I’m no one’s plaything!”
Cyrus put his hand on Marilyn’s hand. She sat back, breathed deeply. She clearly didn’t like having her sense of self challenged. He supposed it made sense based on her history.
Even so, he couldn’t have her overreact. His mother played at hospitality, but that didn’t mean she would hold herself to her own standards. When angered, Persephone’s fury was dangerous. She didn’t possess the control of her emotions that his father did.
“Her name is Marilyn, mother. You can judge me. You can ignore her. But I will not have you refer to her as anything but that. I agreed to come here without a fight, but that can change.”
Persephone smiled as she put down her fork. “You have grown quite a backbone, Cyrus. I have to admit I’m impressed. Fine you can have your way. I will call your human Marilyn if you insist.”
“It won’t do her any good,” Melinoe said. “Her fate will be worse than yours, brother.”
“We will make our own fate,” Cyrus said.
“You are a fool if you think you can make your own fate. You are a god. You are in service to the Fates themselves. You cannot escape them. You can only obey them.” Melinoe turned to Persephone. “Why do we continue this farce? Let’s just get on with this. I want to flay the human’s skin from her bones.”
“Enough,” Persephone said. “We are having dinner, Melinoe. You will show civility to your brother and his hu—Marilyn. Or you will answer to my wrath as well.”
Melinoe fell silent. But she didn’t take her eyes off Cyrus and Marilyn. Cyrus could feel her anger. He knew she would hold the slight against him, and more importantly, Marilyn. But her anger also confused him.
They never had the best relationship, but that didn’t ever come with the kind of vehement distaste she seemed to show now. The behavior was odd. She was always overly violent, but not like this. Something was wrong with Melinoe. Something else was going on with her.
Persephone looked around the table with a smile on her face. “Isn’t this wonderful? It’s nice to have dinner as a family again.”
Cyrus said nothing. He picked at the salad in front of him as he watched his mother across the table. Melinoe loudly chewed the wellington. She wanted to be annoying and would settle for the most childish tactics she could find.
“I know this is a bit stressful,” Persephone said. “I wished you would have returned of your own accord. But even so, it is good for the family to be together.”
“What about father?”
“Your father has his own needs. You know that, Cyrus. He will join us for the trial. Rest assured he loves you very much.”
Something didn’t sound right to Cyrus. His father had been weak for decades, but it wasn’t like him to not at least show himself at meal time. He may find sustenance in other places, but he was a man that enjoyed his wife’s company. Nor did he regular trust her on her own.
Pluto had something wrong with him. He knew his father was in worse shape than he realized before. The transfer back here must have taken more out of him than he thought.
Persephone dropped her silverware, folded her hand and looked across the table. “Now tell me, Cyrus, how did you meet this Marilyn?”
“Wait,” Marilyn said. “If you’re a god, how do you not know?”
Melinoe scoffed. “We are not omnipotent. Nor are we omniscient. We aren’t some kind of fantasy being like so many fools believe in. We are just higher beings than you lowly humans. We consume the power of your worship and use it to channel abilities greater than someone as low as you can ever imagine. We—”
“Hospitality,” Persephone said “Remember your hospitality. If we are a higher civilization, we must respect the agreements we have made. Isn’t that right, Cyrus?”
“Respect is something earned, mother. I never stopped respecting the agreements I made with anyone. I just decided it was time to choose my own path.”
“Your own path,” Melinoe said. “You ran away! You hid from your own duties.”
“I went to find my own life.”
“Enough!” Persephone rose, slamming a hand on the table. “I have heard enough bickering. This is supposed to be a loving relaxed meal, but none of you listen.”
“I am sorry,” Marilyn said. “But clearly the issues underlying the trial you have planned for Cyrus doesn’t sit well either with Cyrus or Melinoe. I would say your children were all too human, but of course for the fact that they’re not.”
Persephone laughed out loud.
Marilyn looked to Cyrus. “Did I say something wrong?”
“I’m not sure,” he said.
“It seems it takes a mortal to understand the minds of gods,” Persephone said. “Your friend Marilyn is far wiser than any woman I have ever met. You will be wise to keep her, Cyrus, if you survive this day.”
“I suppose I should,” Cyrus said.
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