As the ballroom doors swung shut, Evangeline could have sworn she saw Serena gliding toward Hades, her movement filled with such proud as she knew her beauty. But the door sealed tightly before she could be certain, cutting her off from the scene which left her brimming with worry.
She froze, fingers rushing to curl around the doorknob, when Apollo's quiet voice stirred beside her.
"I do think we ought to address your wound as soon as possible, milady."
Eva turned to him, breath uneven. "Would you... help me open the door? I need to see—"
"I assure you," Apollo interjected gently, "that whatever it is can wait until your injury is tended to. My master is concerned it will scar." He bowed his head respectfully, but the gesture felt hastened. Then he stepped away, already insisting with his pace that she follow.
Evangeline stared after him, torn between the throbbing in her arm and the sharper, far more unmanageable ache in her chest.
