Gods Save the Princess (Grace of Gods Book 2) (14 page)

When I looked back up, Griffin was still standing there hoping for a response so I finally nodded to let him off the hook.

“I would love for you to make me dinner, but only if you promise to eat it with me.” I winked and hoped my excitement wasn’t entirely written on my face and my flirting wasn't awkward.

“Phew, I was worried for a second.” He seemed to be catching on comfortably though as he teased me back. I grinned and shrugged, feeling a lot cooler at this than I had thought I would be. “If I come get you at six, would that be okay?”

“Alright, I can do six. What time is it now?”

Griffin shrugged, holding up a bare wrist for me to see before I glanced around the room. Well, it couldn’t be that late. Then again, I really didn’t have any sense of time in this place.

“I better go get ready none the less.” A part of me didn’t want to leave him just yet, but I was also buzzing with excitement. It felt like I was ready to boil over and I could only imagine how embarrassing that would be if Griffin were to witness it.

“How long does it take you to get ready?” Griffin asked with interest.

“A lady never reveals her secrets.” I flashed him a cheeky grin before turning to the door, “but long enough that I’m presentable.” I said with a shrug as I walked.

“I think you’re always presentable.” He shouted back at me as I left. I wanted to turn back and look at him but I suspected Savannah would’ve told me to keep walking, to create some kind of air of mystery. Even if I didn’t have any airs whatsoever.

I felt flushed as soon as I left the training room. Pausing for a moment in the hallway I pressed my fingers against my cheeks to cool them down before turning and heading for the next door.

I had a date tonight. I had a real date with a real boy.

A goofy grin spread itself on my face as I walked confidently toward the door, stopping for a quick second to consider my options. Griffin was right, it was probably a bit too soon to start getting ready. But the excitement that coursed through my veins made it difficult to think of anything but ensuring the utmost perfection in my appearance tonight. I wanted it to be perfect, I wanted it to be memorable. But I needed to get a grip on myself.

I decided I should head to the garden. It would help me centre and focus so I didn’t get completely carried away with how I was feeling. I also needed to relax a bit, however excited I was for tonight I also knew it would be somewhat awkward if any of our previous exchanges alone was anything to go by.

Thinking strongly about my oasis I pushed the door open and stepped out into the soft, plush grass of the garden. I slipped my shoes off immediately, preferring the feeling of the grass between my toes rather than under soled foot and crossed over to the patch I had been working on as of late.

While everything was in full bloom and didn’t need any more tending, the garden seemed never ending. Whenever I needed a new space to work in the garden provided one. The flowers here never wilted or became sick, despite the obvious lack of sunshine. Maybe this was my power. I provided life to this quiet sanctuary. That was a thing, right?

I brushed my fingers along the soil, overturning it into my palm before sifting it back through my fingers. I lost myself quickly in the work, not bothering with tools and relying only on my fingers to dig. When I needed it, bulbs appeared. It always the right ones that I was thinking about. Only this time I wasn’t planting flowers. I wanted to try growing vegetables, then maybe herbs and fruits. If this were truly Eden these things would exist here too.

As always it didn’t take long for the garden to come alive, for the life to flow from some underground source of magic into my plants. The veggies began to sprout and blossom right in front of my eyes.

By the time I was working on the last row of the section the first was ready for picking. This was why I liked it here so much; it kept me busy and helped me relax. I was still excited about the date but I no longer felt like I was a piece of dynamite ready to explode. The plants constantly needed attention from me, they needed me and wanted me there. This was the first time I had ever felt those things toward me, even my own family had trouble acknowledging those things for me.

Brushing my hands off on my pants I finally stood. As much as the vegetables called to me to pick them I knew I could  - as I had before – pass more time than I intended to here and reluctantly pulled myself away to head back to my apartment.

Working diligently on my garden had given me the chance to consider my attire for my date tonight. I wasn’t as well versed in fashion as Savannah was but I remembered a dress I had tried on the night before with her. She had said was much better suited for a less formal affair. Surely a party like tonight was the kind of thing she meant.

As I walked back to the door I pulled my braid out of it’s containers and worked my fingers through the loops, freeing the natural curls around my shoulders. I didn’t like to wear my hair down a lot, maybe a side effect of my upbringing, so there was something almost symbolic in my new interest in doing so.

I reached my bedroom, greeted immediately by the three-headed dog. I had forgotten completely that I was supposed to name him. Them. Which was it? I pet each head appropriately before moving past the beast and into my bedroom. He followed immediately, large tail swishing from one side and to the other, dangerously close to my lamp.

“What should I call you, hmm?” I looked over at him again, reaching out and letting my fingers curl through his fur with a small smile on my face.

“Rover? Clifford? Buddy?” If dogs had facial expressions this one was telling me exactly what he thought of those names. I laughed to myself and nodded, “yeah, you’re right. You need a more mythological name.” I was supposed to be getting ready but I decided it couldn’t hurt to have a quick look online to see what the Internet had to say about three headed dogs. Pulling up a search engine I typed it in and waited for the browser to load.

The very first hit was for an encyclopaedia entry for a three headed dog in Greek mythology.

“Is this you boy?” I pointed to the photo on screen and knowingly the dog barked, making me smile. “Cerberus.” He barked again, lobbing over to my side and licking my hand. “A gigantic hound that guarded the gates of the Underworld. He protected ghosts from ever leaving the Underworld...” I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Seems you’re more suited to be Griffin’s pet than mine, huh?” He snorted, nudging his head against my hand and I smiled. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on giving you away. I like having you here.”

I closed the screen and turned back to the closet, still smiling to myself. Simply thinking about Griffin was enough to set me into a happy mood as I imagined the dress I wanted for tonight. It had to be appropriate enough for dinner but suitable for a club party later. As I opened the closet door and pulled out a deep shimmering purple dress I knew it was perfect.

It wasn’t long after that when I finished getting ready. I still wasn’t used to trying on makeup so I settled for mascara, like Savannah had shown me, and a touch of lip-gloss before waiting restlessly at the door for Griffin to come. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was nervous or excited. I thought maybe it was a bit of both but the sensations that were warring inside of me were so unlike what I was used to.

It almost felt like a part of me didn’t want me to go on the date, as if somehow stepping out of the apartment would bring my doom. It was a silly frivolous thought considering nothing bad was going to happen with Griffin. He was trying to get better.

Turns out I was wrong.

Chapter Eleven

By the time Griffin knocked on the door I had managed to convince myself that it was merely excitement pitted in my stomach. After all, it was my first ever date. It made sense to be nervous but it made even more sense to be excited when this was something I had only ever dreamed of happening.

When I opened the door to let him in he was standing there with a bunch of flowers carefully wrapped in tissue paper. I smiled, taking them from him and noting with curiosity that they were my favourite kind. Perhaps he had noticed that these were the very same flowers I had been bringing to his bedside.

“Thank you, I love them.” I excused myself for a moment, finding a vase to set them in before turning back to him. He had cleaned up for the occasion, but he was still wearing his trademark black jeans. Instead of a black t-shirt he had swapped it for a nice, albeit black, button up with a grey, washed out skull pattern. He even appeared to have washed and combed his hair.

“You look nice.”

“Not as nice as you.” He countered with a smile, holding his hand out to me. I looked down at the party dress again for confirmation and then flushed as our eyes met once more, while I took the proffered hand.

“Thanks.”

“Taking your time looks good on you.”

I laughed slightly and shrugged, “I actually didn’t spend that much time getting ready. I just wanted you to believe I did.”

“Cat’s out of the bag then.” He smiled at me as he led me out of the apartment; I glanced back for only a moment to see Cerberus watching me with interest.

“I’ll see you later Cerberus!” He barked, like a slow drawn out wail before the door closed between us. “He’s starting to get separation anxiety I fear.”

“But I thought you only got him yesterday?”

Nodding and laughing I shrugged, “I’m just that likeable.”

“Don’t I know it.” Griffin said with another smile. I expected him to take me to his apartment for dinner but instead of going over to the other door in the hallway we left through a different door that opened up into a rather dark room.

“What is this place?”

“My sanctuary.” He said simply, guiding me through the darkness until light began to find us, caused by several floating candles in midair. On the ground he had laid out a blanket with massive pillows for sitting and strewn about the space was dinner, I hoped.

“Wow.” I looked over at Griffin, smiling at the blush growing on his cheeks. The room itself reminded me of the cave where Lincoln had held Savannah hostage, but I wasn’t scared. There was no ominous dripping noises, nor was there any heavy breathing of a three-headed dog. In fact the candles and the picnic like atmosphere he had created gave me a sense of comfort. It wasn’t always necessary to fear the darkness, depending on your companions and what was waiting for you in it.

“Alright, I didn’t know what kind of food you liked so I guessed. I hope it’s okay.” He helped me sit down on one of the cushions. It was so massive it nearly swallowed me as I sat down into it, the edges coming up and pinching my sides. I curled into a small ball, tucking my feet under me while getting comfy before surveying the food Griffin had prepared.

On two plates, one set out in front of each of us, was a heavily stacked roast beef sandwich. The meat was seemingly cooked closed to rare, bright red under the light of the candles. The bread was marble rye, a huge slice on either end. There was a plate of fruits laden with gigantic grapes, orange slices and pomegranate seeds. A board of cheese, each one a flavour different than I had ever known cheese came in: Anthotyros, Kasseri, Metsovone and Xynomizithra. Two goblets filled to the brim with wine or, as I hoped, juice. And then a double layered round carrot cake, dripping with icing. It all looked so good and even if Griffin had cheated and conjured it, it was very thoughtful. He had covered every base.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“A toast?” He asked as he picked up his goblet and held it up toward me in the dim light. I followed suit, trying to subtly sniff it as I did to gauge whether it was alcoholic.

“To what?”

“To new beginnings, a change of season and a turning of the page. To leaving behind old fears and following our hearts.”

I could get behind that, “cheers.” I said with a smile as we clinked our goblets together and drew them back to sip. It was wine, but a sweet wine. It tasted like juice if not for the soft hint of sourness that alcohol added to it. Still though, despite it being booze, I could drink it. At least stomach it for one night I hoped.

Setting our goblets down we both dug into the food, the sandwiches proved to be too much for me so I picked at it until I had my fill before helping myself to the fruit. For the longest time Griffin was silent after his toast, I didn’t know what I should say in order to start the conversation. But it wasn’t awkward. Silence with him was comfortable and we both fell into a rhythm that was unexpected of a couple on a first date.

After a while, he broke the silence: “When I was a kid my dad used to drink a lot.” I stopped chewing to look up at him, it wasn’t exactly the dinner conversation that I had in mind.

Swallowing, I spoke, “I had an uncle who was an alcoholic.” He nodded his head morosely and looked down at his plate again.

He fussed with the crust of his sandwich before speaking again, “he’d come stumbling in close to my bedtime and pick fights with my mom. He never held back, he’d punch her in the mouth and then tell her he loved her. It was the most messed up thing in the world... I knew, I just
knew,
real love wasn’t like that. I begged my mom to leave, to get us out of there and go somewhere better. The grass is always greener, right? So when my dad drank himself to death I thought: “this is it. We’re free.” Only we weren’t. We weren’t even close.