Room for Improvement

Tuesday morning arrived without an alarm. Craig woke before it could go off, but kept his eyes closed. For several seconds he lay perfectly still, listening to the apartment settle around him. The room was quiet. No music. No voices. No divine commentary. Nothing immediately suggested that another ancient Greek deity was about to appear and rearrange his life.

That should have been comforting.

Instead, Craig remained suspicious.

Sleep had not been especially kind to him. All night, his dreams had dragged pieces of the previous day into bizarre, disconnected nightmares. Not the strange, almost surreal encounters that brought him into Eros' realm. There had been no marble halls, no impossible skies, no divine audience with the god who had started all of this. These had been stress dreams. His brain had apparently decided that living through several movie roles wasn't quite enough and had to add some bonus material.

Whether the Green Goblin was dangling him off a bridge, a velociraptor was chasing him through the jungle, or he was tied to a chair in a room full of explosives, Craig was always the damsel, and he was always in distress.

Every time he woke, his heart had been pounding. Every time, Craig had stared into the darkness and reminded himself that it had only been a dream. Except it hadn't been entirely a dream.

That was the problem.

Euphrosyne had actually put him into those movies. He had actually been those characters. His memories insisted that those lives had happened, even though the clock insisted he'd spent only minutes inside the theatre.

Eventually, exhaustion had won, and a deep, dreamless sleep overtook him. Not as long as he needed, but it was all he'd been given.

Now morning had arrived. Craig took another slow breath and reminded himself that yesterday was over. Today would be different. Euphrosyne was done with him. That was something, at least. Now he had to deal with her sister.

Thalia had seemed more balanced. More perceptive. More aware that mortals had limits. She'd been the one telling Euphrosyne to be careful. The one who'd noticed how exhausted Craig was. The one who had actually seemed to recognise that he was a person rather than an entertaining toy. That might work in his favour.

Then again, absolutely nothing about dealing with ancient gods had worked in his favour so far. Preparing for the worst was probably the safest option.

Craig opened his eyes. Morning sunlight filled the room. He stared. Something was wrong. The room was enormous. Not slightly bigger than it had been the night before. Not a little more spacious.

Enormous.

Craig slowly pushed himself upright.

The silk of his green lace nightie, which had bunched around his waist while he slept, slid down his body. Matching panties remained underneath. His feet were bare for the moment, yet still arched in their unnatural, magically formed manner.

The familiar parts of the bedroom were still there. His dresser. The Eiffel Tower statue. The Barbies. But everything else had changed.

The bed beneath him was huge, easily large enough for two people with room to spare. Armchairs sat near the windows. An ornate makeup table occupied one corner, its surface covered with products that Craig now somehow recognised individually. Foundation. Concealer. Blush. Eyeliner. Mascara. Brushes arranged in places that apparently made perfect sense.

A fireplace had appeared against one wall.

A chandelier hung from the ceiling.

A patterned rug covered much of the floor.

The walls seemed taller.

The windows seemed larger.

The entire room looked less like a bedroom and more like a private suite in some impossibly expensive palace.

Craig stared.

"What in the..."

"Do you like it?"

Thalia's voice came from across the room. Craig nearly jumped. He turned towards the window. Thalia stood there with her back partly turned to him, looking out over the world below. Her red hair caught the morning light, giving it an almost coppery glow.

"What happened to my bedroom?"

"I improved it."

She said it with the same casual confidence someone might use when moving a lamp.

"I whipped it up for our special day."

"Our special day?"

Thalia finally turned towards him.

"You've lived in squalor for too long. If I'm going to be spending the day with my new mortal friend, we're going to do it in style."

Craig swung his legs over the side of the bed. His feet found a pair of high-heeled mules waiting on the floor. The shoes slipped onto his feet with ridiculous ease.

Craig stood.

"I don't need all of this."

"Nonsense."

Thalia hadn't even sounded offended. She sounded amused.

"Need has nothing to do with anything. Today is about want." She walked slowly towards him. "I want to have a good day with my new mortal friend, and in order to do that, I've had to make some changes."

Craig glanced around the room.

"Just the room, right?"

Thalia raised an eyebrow.

"You haven't made any other changes, have you?" he pressed, nervousness creeping into his voice.

"You need to learn to be more trusting."

That was rich.

"I have only changed things that needed to be changed," Thalia said, shifting her red hair over one shoulder as she looked him up and down. "Nothing more, nothing less."

Craig wasn't sure whether that was reassuring or terrifying.

"You do have good taste, though," she added with a smile. "I'll give you that."

Craig followed her gaze downward. Green lace nightie. Intricate needlework. Matching panties. High-heeled mules. He'd have preferred flannel. That ship had sailed the moment he met Eros.

"Don't worry," Thalia said. "I'm not judging. I'm admiring."

"If you were going to make changes," Craig said, crossing his arms, "then why couldn't you just change things back to how they used to be?"

Thalia turned and glanced towards the ornate dressing table.

"We don't have time to dawdle," she said dismissively. "Dreams of things that can never be won't get the day started."

She snapped her fingers. Craig flinched instinctively. Nothing exploded. Nothing transformed. That alone felt like a minor victory.

"You'll have to get ready," Thalia continued. "You have work to do, as do I. I'll send you to your office with a special blessing if you're quick."

Craig frowned.

"A special blessing?"

"Something to make the day go smoothly."

That sounded suspiciously generous.

"And when you get home tonight," Thalia continued, "I'll have a surprise waiting for you."

Craig's stomach tightened.

"A surprise?"

Thalia laughed softly.

"Don't worry. I won't be as..." She paused, searching for the right word. "Enthusiastic as my sister was."

That was somehow not reassuring either.

"You'll like it," she promised. "Everyone always does, in the end."

Craig stared at her. There were several ways he could interpret that statement. None of them improved his mood.

Still, Thalia had a point. His job might have become utterly insane, but it was still technically his job. Daniel still expected him at work. People presumably noticed when managers failed to appear. And arriving at the office wearing nothing but a lace nightie and high heels would probably be frowned upon, even at this point.

Craig forced a smile.

"Right."

"Excellent."

Thalia gestured towards the dressing table.

"Go on."

Craig turned towards the washroom. The moment his back was to her, the smile disappeared. Whatever Thalia had planned for him today, he was going to survive it. He had survived Eros. He had survived Euphrosyne. He had survived being turned into dozens of women, lived entire movie lives, modelled half a clothing store, and somehow ended up with a bedroom that looked like a palace.

Craig stepped into the washroom and closed the door behind him.

Surely one more day couldn't be that bad.