Chapter Two (Part 2)
“Rook?” Idris asked softly. “Are you alright?”
I swallowed tightly. “Fine. Let’s go in.”
Upon entering, I was immediately hit with a surprisingly pleasant woodsy scent. Sandalwood, maybe? And vanilla. Whatever it was, it was a far cry from the pungent floral perfumes I’d been expecting.
The interior of the temple was dimly lit by crystal wall sconces placed at intervals around the room, white energy lights pulsating in their transparent cages. The wallpaper was black with diamond patterns in a slightly lighter shade, and as it turned out, the dome at the top had a small opening, allowing a small amount of sunlight to flood the room and giving everything a sort of otherworldly glow. Or maybe just a dusty one, I thought, watching dust motes dance in the beams of light.
The far wall of the temple contained all the usual items of worship. A low altar covered with flowers and food, and just above it, a surprisingly well-made statue of who I could only assume was me.
The statue had my long hair and had captured the litheness of my body, depicting me standing tall with my hands out to either side, eyes closed like I was waiting for someone to grab them in a séance. People walked up to the statue one by one and rubbed its hands, so I could only assume they thought it was good luck or something.
Mildly disturbed by the clear detail and work that had gone into the statue, I looked away uncomfortably, only then noticing little stalls all along the circular walls of the room, straw mats inside each one. Worshippers went straight from the statue to those alcoves, kneeling on the mats to pray.
And unfortunately, being this close to the prayers, I couldn’t block them out. They hit me all at once like an explosion going off in the middle of a library.
Paulina is so beautiful. Please let her notice me! I’d give anything just for her to look at me.
Love god, my husband has been withdrawn lately, staying out late at night and lying about where he’s been. I’m worried he’s cheating on me. What can I do to make him love me again?
I’ve never been interested in anyone before, Love god. Is there something wrong with me, or am I still waiting for the one? If so, please make them show up, quickly! I hate being the only one of my friends without a lover.
I’m so ugly, Love god, please make me beautiful like you! If I could find just one person to love me, I wouldn’t hate myself so much.
I know soulmates are real, Love god. You and Idris are clearly meant for each other. That’s all I want. Please, give me my Idris!
Love god, I want –
Please help me –
Would do anything for –
Make him love me –
I’m going crazy –
I’m not worth it, but I want it so bad –
Help me –
Help me –
Help me –
Shut up!
A ringing in my ears slowly drowned out all the voices, and I was grateful for it even as it arrived with a sharp headache in tow. I slowly became aware of hands on my face, warm palms cupping my cheeks and a low voice speaking to me urgently.
“…Rook. Rook, what’s wrong?” Thumbs swiped over my cheekbones, brushing my trembling eyelashes with a sweet butterfly touch. “Rook, please.” The tone hardened suddenly, the low whisper tightening into something sharp and unyielding as Idris figured out what was distressing me. “That’s it. We’re leaving. I knew we shouldn’t have come.”
That helped me snap out of it. My eyes opened, immediately finding Idris’s face right up in mine, artificially green eyes searching me worriedly.
I reached up to cup my hands over his on my face, reassuring him while I was still figuring out how to use my tongue, pushing past the stabbing pain in my temples. I couldn’t leave, not yet, so the only thing I could do was ignore the prayers as best I could to convince Idris to let me stay longer.
As we were standing there in the middle of the temple, hands clasped over my face, a worshipper stepped up next to us, glancing between us with awe. He was a short, mousy thing. Probably only a half-immortal, if not a mortal. I side-eyed him as best I could with Idris’s hands holding my head still, and he followed my gaze, eyes narrowing dangerously on the guy, who was either oblivious or stupid because he didn’t even flinch.
“Wow,” the guy whispered reverently. “This is amazing. Clearly, you two are incredibly blessed by the Love god.”
Well…I mean, yeah? Sorta? Could I bless my own relationship?
“Tell me, what did you two do to earn his blessings? How often do you pray? What do you offer?” he questioned fervently, eyes gleaming. A couple people nearby heard him and glanced over, a similar hunger twisting their expressions, like wolves catching the scent of a rabbit.
I didn’t like that. Not one bit. Being a ‘bunny’ in any sense had never sat well with me, and the reminder made my gut churn.
Seeing Idris’s glare intensifying, I knew that I needed to get my shit together, because he was one wrong look from just teleporting us both back home.
“We pray every night,” I blurted. Idris whipped back around to look at me, slowly letting go of my face, but keeping one of my hands tightly clasped in his. The mousy man’s eyes widened, and he leaned in conspiratorially, but everyone else nearby could still clearly hear us, shamelessly eavesdropping.
“Oh? Do you use a particular method to pray? Whatever I’ve been doing doesn’t seem to be getting through to him,” the mousy man said, pouting.
I nodded seriously. “Oh yeah. There’s a whole ritual we do. First, we each eat a whole box of cherries. That’s the Love god’s favorite fruit, you know.”
His eyes widened. “I did not know that. And then? What do you do after?”
“Sex, lots of it,” I said firmly. Idris side-eyed me. “And then when we’re done, we bow three times to the Love god. He appreciates mutual carnal acts.”
At this, the mousy man drooped despondently, cheeks flushing. “Oh. What if…what if you don’t have anyone to do that with? That is to say, what did you do to pray to the Love god before you got together?”
I slapped a hand on Idris’s chest and patted it a couple times. He caught my hand against him and tapped it twice in warning. “Easy. Draw some erotic pictures and pray over them each night before bed. The Love god is an art lover, didn’t you know that?”
The man’s eyes were so wide, I feared they might pop out of his head. “Oh. Oh! I never thought of that. Not much is known about the Love god’s personal interests, you see, considering how reclusive he’s been for the past thousand years.”
Yeah. Reclusive. Not by choice, Mr. Mouse.
I tilted my nose up arrogantly. “Yeah, well, I work near the palace. I hear things.”
“Have you ever seen him?” Another voice said. I turned to look, seeing another worshipper had drifted closer to us, her eyes alight.
Have I seen him? Technically, no. A laugh threatened to bubble out of me, but I held it in valiantly.
“No,” I said honestly. “But I’ve spoken with some of the palace’s servants, and they’ve given me some insight into how he thinks.”
The crowd pressed subtly closer. Idris’s hand tightened on mine, almost to the point of pain.
“And…what have you learned?” the girl from before asked. The mousy man nodded eagerly.
I took a deep breath. “I’ve learned that he’s been puzzling over a very serious question recently, one that perhaps all of you can answer.”
Idris’s hand tightened more. A warning to stop while I was ahead, but I disregarded it. The worshippers all straightened, looking at each other with wide eyes.
“A question?” someone from the crowd echoed. “What question could he have that the likes of us could possibly answer?”
“It’s a very serious question,” I assured. Dozens of eyes were fixed on me unblinkingly. The room was utterly silent, so silent that no one even seemed to be breathing. “He wonders why you all need to call him a god of Love to justify worshipping him. After all, he’s always been a god. Is it only because of his relationship with our king that he is worthy of your regard? Can you only stomach his presence when it’s safely leashed?”
Gasps fluttered about the room. For a moment, everyone was flabbergasted, blinking and sharing looks with each other, because no one knew what to say.
I expected stuttering excuses. I expected sheepish glances and shy retreats from the room. I even expected arguments.
What I didn’t expect was for someone to suddenly face the statue of me at the head of the room and fall to their knees.
“I’m sorry, Love god,” they said, voice trembling. And like a wave, everyone else latched onto that idea, falling to their knees with dull thumps that had to hurt. A chorus of apologies rose up, dozens of ‘sorries’ and expressions of regret. Some were even shedding tears as they grasped at my statue’s feet. Desperate like dogs begging for scraps.
Some part of me tuned out at that point. Pathetic.
The larger part of me, that part that still, unfortunately, gave a fuck, was horrified.
I'd just told them, albeit in a roundabout way, that I, the fucking Love god that they were so enamored with, was upset about being worshipped as a Love god.
But still, all I heard was ‘Love god.’ Love god, I’m sorry. Love god, help me. Love god, this, Love god, that. They couldn’t even call me ‘Death god.’
I had to wonder if half of them even knew what my actual name was. I would settle for just Rook.
As I watched all of my so-called worshippers begging for my forgiveness, my mouth twisted.
It was worse than I thought.
I finally dragged my eyes away from them, finding Idris already watching me sadly.
Maybe he’d been right all along. I shouldn’t have come.
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