Author’s note:

Author’s note:  Hello again!! If you have been reading this story since the beginning then, I’m so very greatful for all your support!! It truly makes my day like nothing else when people read my work and leave their thoughts! There will be one final installment for Theron’s POV for this story and I hope you are as excited to read it as I am to write it!! :))))

…………….

The sun beats down on me like a wrathful god.

Heat scorching my back even through the white tunic I threw on and coating my skin in an unwanted sheen of sweat.

If only that woman wasn’t so incompetent, I wouldn’t have been standing here.

“What is it with these ridiculous pottery designs nowadays? Get them out of my garden!”

I hear Queen Zailah’s shout coming from somewhere across the garden and immediately stand as straight as my dehydrated body allows me to before I head into the opposite direction to avoid having to be the unfortunate victim of her anger over something trivial.

She’s back from the temple of stars.

Shit.

My footsteps become more haste all while the smell of an ungodly amount of flowers and fresh cut grass tickles my nose, eliciting an unwelcome itchy feeling that makes my eyes water to the point of my vision becoming a tunnel of haze.

My shoe clad foot finds the stone step leading into one of the corridors of the palace and I tap my foot impatiently.

Anxiety and doubt claws at my heart- wondering if I should have trusted Callista with the job I gave her…..probably not.

When has a woman ever done something right?

The sinking feeling in my stomach increases with every minute Callista spends inside the Queen’s chamber retrieving that mirror.

I stare down at my shoes once more, noticing the cracked dark leather caked in mud and dirt.

A pang of something stinging hits my heart.

A smothering emotion of sadness over the fact that my shoes may never be as shiny as some of the low life imperials of the queen.

Is that all I am worth?Shaking off the unfamiliar emotion, I focus my eyes back onto the corridor and the intricate molding climbing up the walls to distract myself, knowing in my heart that shoes are a minor problem.

Once I have the money from selling the mirror, what goes on my feet will be the last of my worries.

Footsteps echo from behind me.

A split second of confusion pierces my overheated brain because these footsteps sound too confident and sure to be the timid and shy Callista I have come to know.

The heat sure is messing with my head.

It must be Callista. Who else would approach me?

The reassurement quickly fades when I turn and instead of deep blue-green, my eyes connect with electric blue ones.

All thoughts in my head come to an abrupt halt at the glorious diety standing before my very eyes.

She’s…..unreal.

Her gaze is sharp yet bored as she hold stares at me all while I rake my gaze over her picturesque body, since I may never get the chance again.

Every inch of her is lush, full curves. mindblowing symmetry and proportionality.

She’s plump and dainty all in the right places.

Holy creation of Aphrodite…

My eyes snag at every curve and slope of her body as they slide back up to her face and it takes extreme willpower to not stare at her lips but rather at her eyes.

When I see the irritation bubbling behind her eyes, my back jerks ramrod straight and my eyes slide all the way down to the cobblestone ground, settling at her feet.

“Majesty,” I bow lightly.

“I should have your eyes scooped out for ogling me but I’m in a rather merciful mood today” She spits out and I can practically hear the venom in her voice scorching my skin hotter than the summer sun of Argos.

“Apologies, Majesty.” I blurt out- even though my insides twist in repulsion at the feeling of having to apologize and bow to womankind, they are not above me. After all, it is me who holds authority over her.

It should be me.

“What are you doing here, peasant? Shouldn’t you be working?” she asks,  voice bored and I glance up to catch her staring at her nails, sharp tips glinting in the sun.

“Majesty- I-” I begin-

“Yes, yes, whatever, the sun is blistering me now, I shall not stand her any longer and entertain your pathetic gaze- get to work.” she snaps and turning on her heel before I could blurt out a ‘Yes, Your Majesty’

God I hate that woman.

I hate the power she has over everyone in this city. But I know it’s just because of her enticing body and doll-like face.

If she were a beast- she’d have no power over anyone.

A beast who’s a woman? I scoff out loud even as the thought plays out in my head, no woman could have power over any man if she were a hideous beast.

What would she do anyways? Sink her claws in my chest? I bet that wouldn’t work considering how fragile she’d be. How fragile she is. How fragile they all surely are.

I hear another set of feet rushing towards me.

Hurried, anxious and unsure.

There she is.

My dumb little marionette.

Callista skids to a stop in front of me, cheeks flush, eyes wide with a mix of triumph and uncertainty.

My eyes stay locked with hers for mere seconds to give her the illusion that she is my priority and then slide down her arm to where she’s clutching the mirror in a death-like grip.

“You are an amazingly talented woman my love” I let the fake praise tumble out of my mouth as I take the mirror and stare into it.

Holy shit.

The queen will be a sweet little trophy for whatever man gets to have her- but I see why she was obsessed with the mirror.

I’d have fallen for myself if I were a woman.

My eyes stay locked onto the mirror as triumph bubbles in my blood like champagne.

And so the man wins again.

Time to play my final card…..