Love is a Rose... [tag: Aphrodite]
To say Hedylogos was in a good mood would have been an understatement. He was in a fantastic mood. There wasn't any real specific reason for it other than the weather was nice, the skies over Olympus were beautiful and there wasn't a drop of rain in sight. He didn't mind rain, it had its place in the universe, but when the sun was out there always seemed to be a little extra pep in his step. So, the weather made him happy.
But so did learning that morning that the young daughter of one of his French attendants was in the early stages of love. She was young, but not so young that she would be embarrassed to gush with her mother over a cup of coffee in the large kitchen over the date she had the evening prior. The girl was seventeen, love -especially new love, was exciting and fierce. The young loved without restraint for they did not yet know heartbreak.
Hedylogos had walked in and heard the conversation, which didn't stop either the girl or her mother from continuing it even as the mother, Marie, handed him his usual morning coffee just as he liked it -with just as splash of cream. He leaned easily against the counter and asked questions of Charlotte -the daughter, about the new object of her affections. It was an easy, relaxed conversation such as was to be expected in his Chateau. His attendants always were more like family than servants. Marie was dear to him and had learned to serve him after her parents served him. Some day, unless she desired otherwise, Charlotte would serve him.
After learning such wonderful news, of a young woman being properly wooed and returned home without her date forcing himself on her, Hedylogos stopped at his favorite market in Nice and purchased a custom bouquet of flowers to present to his mother. He was headed to Olympus.
It seemed trite to gift the Goddess of Love with flowers, but he never could help himself. It was as simple a way to show his unending appreciation and love for her as just showing up at her home for a visit did. Hedylogos knew he always had a home in her Olympian temple, but he liked the privacy of his French home. Not to mention the memories that filled the halls of that grand Chateau. But, he had been away from Olympus for too long.
Walking in, he stopped the first attendant to ask for a glass of wine, a vase and if his mother was in. As the attendant shuffled off to do as asked, He carefully unwrapped the paper from around the flowers.