Melpomene does not return his smile, this time, though she does not shy away from his eyes. “Trade places with a mortal girl?” she asks. He’s right, there is a wild and dark look about her, and now it has an edge of warning to it, sharp as the knife in her boot. She’s not exchanging her place at his side so easily.
She slides her eyes back to the girl, who his lieutenants are sharing between them like she’s their last meal.
"I could," she says, as if it’s a genuine thought to consider. “But what marks either of them as worthy of me? They seem a little too dirt-ordinary for these gorgeous thighs.”