Festival

The festival had swallowed New Athens whole.

Lanterns stretched across every street, golden orbs swaying in the summer air. Stalls overflowed with roasted meats, sticky honey cakes, and bright garlands of flowers. Musicians clashed in every square, strings and drums rising over the laughter of dancers. Mortals pressed shoulder to shoulder, spilling wine, shouting songs, alive with a kind of unrestrained joy Lily rarely allowed herself to imagine.

Her sisters dove in without hesitation. Thalia found a drum to pound along with the musicians; Erato flirted shamelessly with a garland-maker who couldn’t string flowers fast enough; Clio purchased a spiced wine only to wrinkle her nose at it, muttering about “cheap mortal vintages.”

Lily followed, smiling, but slower. She wore a simple white linen dress to blend with the crowd, her curls loose down her back, a crown of woven ivy perched askew from Erato’s teasing hands. No laurel tonight. No mantle of duty. Just Lily, anonymous in the crush of mortal life.

A child barreled into her, nearly toppling her cup. She laughed, catching the girl’s hand before she could vanish into the crowd, and pressed a honey cake into her palm. The girl’s eyes widened with joy before she darted away again, her laughter carried into the music.

Lily’s chest warmed. She let her sisters sweep her along, let them drag her into the dancing circle where mortals clapped and stamped their feet. Her body moved with them, skirts brushing against strangers, her cheeks aching with a smile she couldn’t fight. Wine loosened her thoughts. For a breath, she felt weightless.

So easy, she thought, spinning until the lanterns blurred above her. *I could live like this. I could stay here, be one of them. No councils. No vows. Just laughter and song. It might not be forever, but it would be beautiful. Easy. *

She stumbled free of the dancers at last, breathless, searching for air. The night was cooler at the edge of the square, where shadows stretched long against the marble facades.

And there he was.

Ares stood apart, arms crossed, his broad frame cutting through the crowd. He wasn’t dressed for festivity. He was wearing dark clothes, his hair damp from the heat, jaw hard as stone. But the lantern light caught in his pale hair, making him look almost ethereal. His eyes tracked her the moment she stepped from the circle.

“You look miserable,” she teased, lifting her cup. “A god at a festival, giving you worship, and you look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

His mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “You shouldn’t wander alone in crowds like this.”

“I wasn’t alone. My sisters - ”

“Were distracted,” he cut in. His gaze swept the square, then settled back on her. “Mortals don’t know what you are. Not all of them would treat you kindly if they did.”

Lily rolled her eyes, but her heart thudded. “So you’re my shadow now?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

They stood together at the edge of the square, the music and shouting seemed to dim around them. Ares reached up, his fingers brushing her curls as he adjusted the ivy crown askew on her head. The touch lingered, warm and deliberate. His magic stirred in the space between them. It was low and heated, like embers waiting to flare. It brushed against her skin, making her breath catch.

“You don’t dance?” she asked.

Ares gave her a look sharp enough to sting. “I don’t belong in their joy.”

Her smile faltered. “You could. For tonight, you could.”

He was silent. His eyes tracked the lanterns overhead, the mortals pressing past with garlands and wine, the way their laughter shook the air around them. His jaw eased only slightly. “I don’t remember the last time I laughed like that,” he admitted at last, so low she almost didn’t hear.

Lily’s chest tightened. The music swelled again, strings cutting sharp against the night. She imagined him there with her in the circle, mortal and unburdened, his hand in hers as they spun under the lantern light. She saw his mouth unguarded, his shoulders loosened, his laughter mingling with hers.

Her pulse raced. She bit the inside of her cheek. Dangerous. Wanting this was dangerous. Hera would use it. The council would whisper. She would lose everything.

And still, she wanted it. Gods, she wanted it.

A voice cut through the crowd. “Lily!” Clio, sharp as ever, waving from a wine stall. Thalia and Erato were already clambering onto a bench, shouting for her to join them.

Lily exhaled, her smile forced. “I should...”

Ares nodded, expression unreadable. He stepped back into the shadows, giving her space. “Go.”

She hesitated, then forced her feet to move, back toward her sisters, toward the clamor of mortal joy. Thalia caught her hand and spun her in, laughing, and Lily laughed too, letting the music swallow her again.

But her heart wasn’t in it anymore. Her chest ached with the ghost of a life she couldn’t have.

From the edge of the square, Ares lingered, his gaze fixed on her. The lanterns burned, the mortals danced, but his eyes stayed on Lily, and the heat of his magic followed her like a tether he could not break.