Cassandra nodded slightly. He had every right to ask her that question. The problem was that she didn't really think she could give him a proper answer. And it wasn't because she didn't want to give him one. On the contrary, Cassandra felt more comfortable, in general, when she could put the people in her life into their proper boxes, to keep them all straight. But Apollo just didn't fit into any boxes. He was a category of his own.

Lover wasn't the proper word. Cassandra had not yet been able to bring herself to come to bed with him. And there was still some lingering hate mingled with all of her other feelings toward him. What they had wasn't kind or gentle or...loving. It was brutal. No, no that word wouldn't do. It was primal. Yes, she liked that term much better. But it didn't answer his question.

He wasn't her patron anymore. No mentor of any kind. Cassandra wouldn't be terribly receptive to learning anything from him anyway. She valued her independence. She wanted to learn for herself.

Apollo wasn't her enemy anymore. That reality was jarring. Of course, Cassandra could--and did--get angry at him, but it wasn't the same. He didn't have power over her and for all of her anger, she didn't think he necessarily wanted it. In spite of earlier barbs.

She sighed softly. "I wish I knew," she replied honestly. "I can think of more things that you aren't to me. But I do know that you're...important."