Oh. That's. Yeah.

Alexa lays one head against Caval's shoulder, feels the engravings against one cheek, breathes in the aseptic scent, and lets out a bitter little huff of laughter.

Yeah, that's just about what she expected.

"If that's what you want."

***

This isn't what she wants.

There are a dozen thoughts running through her head right now, but they keep coming back to that.

Which makes no sense, she keeps telling herself. What does it matter if she's married? She only just found out that Aphrodite is actually taking an interest in her, which, wow, mindblowing. Is it really wise to try to turn away from Aphrodite again?

Which she'd very much like to do, honestly. Wants to stomp out of here, demand an audience with Caval, or run away, or something. Wants to rage that no, this isn't how love happens, this isn't right, how dare you? 

But... what would be the point? You can't fight the gods. This is not a problem that can be stabbed, and she doesn't have the materials to do a proper augury to Aphrodite.

Alexa picks at the dress she's been given. It's not surprising that they have her measurements--she's pretty sure there must be a closet somewhere in the palace full of ceremonial garb designed to fit her. Can you imagine the shame of the Pallas Rex violating the norms?

"There must be a reason for this," she decides under her breath. Because it can't be the one that's being presented.