So many people called Cassandra rude. She preferred to think of herself as simply honest. Sometimes a little too honest.

Cassandra looked back at him. "I never asked you to change," she said evenly. "You asked me why I was pushing you away and I answered. I gave you no suggestions, made no requests." She shrugged. "I have no right, I know that."

It was sort of funny. Cassandra sort of liked it when Apollo was angry. It was dangerous, of course, and tended to lead to curses, but it was him at his most honest. Which, she supposed wryly, was why the whole incident in the shower had happened. He was being himself without the cloak of charm, without the dazzling smile that looked more like a mask than an actual person's face.

Before Cassandra could stop it, a laugh bubbled up to the surface. The whole situation was absurd. And it seemed to exist entirely in her mind. Apollo accused her of playing mad. She really was mad.

"There you have it."