# Chapter 8
As he was the god of the squall, Apollo’s arrival was accompanied by a strong wind. Eutostea let out a hollow smile and welcomed the darkness among the lamplights that instantly went off with a cloud of smoke. The rattling sound from the window gave her a whiff of someone’s presence.
“Princess of Thebes.”
He probably wouldn’t know Hersia’s name. And not even Eutostea’s name either. The uninvited guest who came by almost every day would definitely be shameless.
“Did you receive the oracle’s message I sent?”
There was a hint of a smile in Apollo’s voice.
“We already had an uproar in the palace because of that.”
Eutostea calmed her boiling anxiety and trembled without being obvious.
Apollo smiled in a low voice after her blunt response.
‘The laughter she tries to suppress in order to stay soundless turns into a playful one when she feels delighted,’ he thought. At some point, he discerned her traits one by one.
