When Evera spoke of a bath, she meant nothing like Aria’s baths. Bathing in her childhood had meant lugging a bucket of water to her family’s backyard, where mud-brick walls and a thatched roof hid a tiny, square cell. There, she had scrubbed herself with scratchy soap and ladled water over herself; carefully - because running out of water before you ran out of body parts was a possibility.

During her first years in Garo’s service, baths had been communal affairs, with the more senior attendants taking the first semi-private sessions while the newest girls managed their cleaning with two minutes and half a bucket of water.

The guest bath to which she was directed held two enormous pools. One pool held normal water, capable of being heated to any temperature she wished, while the other held seawater, drawn fresh while she had dined with Evera. There was a mini-orchestra: two flutes and a four-stringed okere. A stand held cakes of every type and flavor. Two young girls were present to massage her feet, another two for her hands, and one for her back. They began almost without permission, directing her to dip her feet in the pool while another girl fed her cakes.

A stylist displayed clothing for her perusal. Each outfit was modeled on a wooden dress form which somehow matched Aria’s figure. Hairstyles were similarly modeled on living girls, whose hair matched her short, thick mop - and they looked good.

Aria must have gaped, but the attendants responded to her shock with the utmost professionalism and assured her that any additional requests would be accommodated.

She almost cried when she spoke the most difficult words of her life. “I will bathe in privacy.”

The attendants took her notice in stride. They left the cakes near the pool and the dresses beside a wall. The orchestra left their instruments, and the hairstylist promised to return when requested. Shemula, who had done an excellent job of keeping her disdain covert, promised to wait in the hallway.

She could not take off the jacket, but the thought of ignoring such a luxurious bath brought tears to her eyes. Besides, Evera had practically ordered her to bathe. So, she bathed with the jacket on and washed what she could reach. It went well. The jacket was water proof, but her blouse beneath it was soaked through. After exiting the pool - she used both pools - she spent several minutes working her blouse out from under the jacket. She was forced to undo one button, but no army descended to whisk her to her doom.

Afterward, she found a sleeveless blouse with detachable straps, then completed the outfit with some black trousers. Then, she let the servants style her hair. They teased it into a sleek-looking updo she had not considered it capable of. Then, they invited her to tour the palace while she waited for Evera.

Aria took full advantage of their hospitality. She avoided only the third floor as they instructed her, and feasted her eyes on everything else. She rested in the garden for a time, tried - and failed - to solve the maze, and enjoyed a private dinner. With each passing moment, the sad ache in her heart grew. She could live in this palace forever. If she was a goddess, not a pretender, she could take full advantage of Evera’s tutelage and perhaps own a palace of her own someday.

The beauty and opulence were seductive, but what she craved most of all was the joy. She did not see a single sad face inside Evera’s walls. Laughter had existed in Garo’s palace, but so much of it had been stressed or mocking or faked. Here, however, no one was crying. Evera truly deserved her title as the goddess of love. Loved by her subjects, her servants, and even by fellow gods, she would never want for followers.

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“Greetings.”

Aria jumped. The day had ended and she had yet to see Evera. The goddess seemed to spend her life in appointment after appointment. Aria had no complaints. The longer Evera delayed, the more of the palace she could enjoy. When she had tired of the tour, she had come to the garden to rest. There were no lamps. The middle realm lacked a moon so fireflies were her only light. A voice springing suddenly from the darkness was the last thing she wanted. And it was a man’s voice.

“You must be the new goddess.” He came closer. His features were still unclear, but she could make out his figure. “I’m sorry I started you. I am Ritulwayuta, but most people called me Ritu”

“I’m Ar - Arruwa. Um, it’s nice to meet you.”

That sounded better than, ‘what are you doing here, the only male in a temple full of women?’

He heard the query anyway, and she heard a smile enter his voice. “Evera and I are lovers. Do you want to go in? You’re squinting. Or perhaps I can fetch a lamp..”

“Oh, it’s fine. It would scare off the fireflies.” She felt self-conscious. Perhaps all deities could see in the dark and the man was now picking apart her deception in his mind.

Rather than stand there and wait for discovery, she gave him a dismissive smile, then turned and headed for the house. There was a bench flush against the wall, and she knew it lay in a straight line from her position. Rather than accept his dismissal, however, Ritu followed her. When she sat on the bench, he took a spot a respectful distance from her, leaned back, and stared into the distance.

Lighting from a nearby window allowed Aria the opportunity to inspect his face. It was deep brown, like the dirt on her parent’s farm. He paired that with long lashes and a smooth complexion, completing the profile that, on a man, was considered ‘beautiful’ rather than handsome.

He was no match for Evera, however. What man could be? Aria longed to ask more about their relationship? How long had they been together? Were there any vows between them? She knew of married deities, but such a thing had never been suggested of Evera. Perhaps it was a secret, but then he wouldn’t introduce himself so openly. Perhaps it was only secret from mortals or it was no secret at all and no one simply cared to share the news in the lower realm.

He spoke first, sounding just as curious ad Aria was. “I heard the servants talking. They’re excited. There hasn’t been a new deity in two centuries. What is your power? Is it rude to ask?”

Aria shrugged. “I would not know. I still do not know many things. Evera has been kind enough to offer training.”

The deflection, thankfully, escaped him. “I can imagine. You’re fortunate. Of all the deities who could have found you, Evera is the best. I say that shamelessly, though I must be the most biased in that regard.

That was an opening, and she took it. “How long have you been together?”

“Eighty-three years and four months.” He chuckled. “Yes, I know how old I look. Evera extends my life, though I don’t care. I’ll be with her even after I die.” He laughed some more. “Do you have someone?”

“Not yet.” A boy came to mind, catching fish with her on a cool afternoon, but he had loved someone else, and she had quickly overcome the rejection. “Hopefully, someday.”

She wanted to pry some more into his relationship. Who had Evera loved before him? Had she loved someone? She had lived for millennia. Now that she no longer seemed like a sexless, ethereal being, Aria thought it impossible that she had been alone all that time.

He disappointed her. “I’m going to go in.” He rose, stretched, and turned to her. “I hope to see you again sometime.”

“Thank you. And you too.”

She listened to his footsteps until there was nothing more to hear. Then, she listened to the night sounds until exhaustion tugged at her eyelids. When she decided to find a bedroom, it was from fear of falling asleep in the open. But the bed was even more wonderful than the garden. So, she put her worries out of her mind and convinced herself that she was safe - at least until morning.