She didn’t want to hurt anyone. That wasn’t what Kore’s powers were for, even though sometimes they screamed for retribution or... Revenge? She didn’t know.
All she knew was that she wasn’t capable of hurting anyone or anything. Kore was a goddess of the harvest, just like her mother. She made plants grow and wane. She gave food to people who needed it. Nothing more, nothing less.
Artemis stepped away as well, her own cheeks burning. “The nectar here is amazing. Zeus always keeps the best for himself. Have you tried it?”
“No!” Kore jumped at the opportunity to ease the awkwardness. “Should I? Mother said I wasn’t allowed to have any.”
“You’re an adult, Kore. Even if she doesn’t want you to be.” Artemis held out her arm for Kore to take. “Come on. Let’s get you your first glass.”
They strode through the crowd together, and Kore felt like a goddess. With Artemis beside her, everyone stared. They might see a little nymph beside the goddess of the hunt, but maybe they would see who Kore really was.
She felt like one of them. And that’s all that mattered.
They walked by a bearded man who was well into his drink. His blue tunic glimmered like he was under the water and his beard lifted now and then like waves were brushing through it.
“Poseidon?” she whispered under her breath.
“Yes. Stay away from him.”
“Why?” Kore wanted to get closer, if anything.
He looked like an interesting character, and she loved to meet new people. Her mother never let her meet other gods, and what if Poseidon had something interesting to say? She’d never been close to the sea, but the naiads loved coming back with tales from the saltwater.
Kore tugged hard on Artemis’s arm. “Can we at least say hello? I’ve never met him before.”
“Your mother would kill me.”
“I just want to see—” Kore stopped talking as a heavy hand grabbed onto the meat of her bottom.
Letting out a horrified gasp, she flinched away from the touch and into Artemis. Her sidestep made even the powerful goddess of the hunt stumble, and together, they listed to the side. Artemis righted them both, barely controlling an embarrassing fall.
She spun around and locked eyes with Poseidon himself. How had he approached them so fast?
He staggered a step to the side before catching himself and gesturing at her with a glass. “I didn’t know Zeus ordered nymphs to attend us! Trust me, you don’t want to spend the night with Artemis. A curvy thing like you? Come here.”
He lunged toward her again. With a gasp of horror, she realized she’d frozen in place. Kore didn’t know if she should run or just let him do whatever he wanted. He was the god of the sea. Was she allowed to deny him?
Artemis yanked on her arm at the last moment and jerked her out of his way. Poseidon nearly fell himself, though this time he caught an arm on a table with a sinister laugh. “Artemis, you aren’t playing fair.”
“This isn’t a nymph for you to sneak off into the shadows with,” she hissed. “This is Demeter’s daughter, you drunkard!”
He straightened, shrugged, and said, “How was I to know?”
And then he wandered off. Like nothing had happened at all.
Breathing hard, tears in her eyes, Kore struggled to calm herself. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She couldn’t. These people weren’t like her mother at all, were they?
She glanced around and made eye contact with Dionysus. He gestured a hand toward his crotch and pointed to her, as if he were asking her to tug... something. She suddenly realized what he was asking for and gagged.
Artemis asked, “Are you all right?”
“No,” she whispered. “I need some air.”
“I don’t think your mother would want you wandering around the gardens, Kore. That’s where most of the gods go to—”
Kore didn’t hear the rest of what her friend said. She darted away from her side as only a nymph could do. Rushing through the crowd of people and dodging movements as she went. She was fast, she knew that. Quicker than most and easy to miss because of her size.
But she still slammed into someone’s back as they moved in front of her.
Bouncing off the hard plate of metal, she fell onto her behind and stared up at the armored god. He turned, the helm on his head brushed with red paint to look like a handprint of blood.
“Foolish girl!” he snarled. “I should take your head from your shoulders, nymph!”
His booming shout echoed and she couldn’t stand it anymore. They weren’t just laughing at her. They were cruel and mean, and they enjoyed her fear. Like they were feasting off it.
Hands shaking, she pushed herself to her feet and tried to keep her eyes on the floor. “Excuse me, Ares.”
“You have no permission to use my name.” His growl echoed with a promise of pain.
Another voice interrupted him, this one bright and full of power. “Ares, you’re too rough on the girl. Can’t you see she’s shaking?”
Kore stared at her feet, but she saw the golden light spilling off the man who’d spoken. It touched her shoes like the golden rays of sunlight. So beautiful and belonging to the only god she didn’t want to see her like this.
Apollo.
Licking her lips, she whispered, “Thank you, Apollo.”
“You have leave to use my name if you’d wish.” His hand touched her shoulder, slid down her back, and then touched her waist. A little too familiar. Too comfortable when she hadn’t given him permission to touch her at all. “Now, why don’t you follow me, nymph?”
Kore wanted to scream at them all that she wasn’t a nymph. She wasn’t some unknown little flower they’d plucked for their own entertainment. She was a goddess, just like them! The blood of Zeus ran in her veins.
“Brother!” A smack followed the words. “That’s Demeter’s daughter, you idiot, stop touching her.”
Apollo recoiled from her like she was poisonous. “Demeter has a daughter?”
They didn’t know she existed? It was just as her mother had always dreamed. Olympus knew nothing about Kore. She might as well have been a nymph.
“Excuse me,” she whispered, shoving through the crowd suddenly forming around her. “Please let me go.”
“Stay!” Their voices shouted. “We’ve never met you, minor goddess. What’s your power?”
She wasn’t a spectacle. And she wasn’t here for their entertainment.
Kore shoved through them and darted out the door just beyond her sight. A table moved on its own and clipped her hip, so by the time she blasted out of the door and spilled into the gardens, she was already limping.
Wounded. Defeated. She struggled to the nearest bench and sat down with a thump.
This wasn’t what she’d thought Olympus would be like. She had thought it would be a golden, gleaming palace where she would prove she was a powerful goddess. She’d thought she would belong here.
But her mother had been right. The Olympians weren’t good people. They weren’t kind. And they definitely didn’t care if she was one of them or not.
Sniffing hard, she brushed a hand over her cheeks and caught the dripping tears. Silly. She shouldn’t have reacted like a disappointed child and yet, here she was.