My goddess is nothing like I imagined

Felix arrived at the Fourth Divine Order fifteen minutes early.

He considered this an excellent start.

The celestial carriage that had brought him from the Assignment Conclave had departed several minutes ago, leaving him standing before a palace so magnificent that he briefly forgot how to breathe.

White marble towers rose above the clouds. Golden bridges connected floating terraces, and streams of water flowed through the air before disappearing into crystal pools. Strange flowers bloomed along the pathways, their petals glowing softly beneath a sky filled with unfamiliar constellations.

Felix adjusted the collar of his new uniform.

Black fabric. Silver embroidery. A small celestial emblem pinned over his chest.

He looked official.

He felt official.

And, for the first time in a very long while, he didn't feel like the universe was personally trying to inconvenience him.

This is it, he thought. I've finally made it.

He had spent years studying, training, and enduring trials that had left him exhausted, bruised, and occasionally questioning whether the Celestial Proving Grounds had been designed by someone who genuinely disliked mortals.

Now, he was a Divine Attendant.

His duties would include organizing correspondence, assisting with research, managing schedules, and accompanying his assigned goddess on official occasions.

Important work, certainly.

But how difficult could it be?

He imagined a typical day: delivering a few documents, arranging a meeting or two, perhaps carrying a book while his goddess explained some profound truth about the universe.

Then he would return to his quarters, enjoy a luxurious meal, and sleep in a bed that didn't have a suspicious creaking noise every time he turned over.

Felix almost smiled.

He really should have aimed for divine employment sooner.

A pair of attendants passed him on the steps, carrying a large silver tray between them.

One of them glanced at Felix's uniform.

"New appointment?"

"Yes," Felix replied proudly. "Assigned to Goddess Jessica of the Fourth Divine Order."

The attendants exchanged a look.

It was brief.

Very brief.

But Felix noticed it.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," one replied quickly.

"Nothing at all," said the other.

They continued up the steps.

Felix watched them disappear through the palace entrance.

Strange.

Perhaps they were impressed. He had heard that receiving a Fourth Order assignment was an exceptional achievement for a mortal.

Naturally, people would be curious.

He straightened his shoulders and followed them inside.

The palace doors opened into a grand hall filled with sunlight, floating lanterns, and polished marble floors. Several servants moved quietly between tall pillars. Somewhere in the distance, a bell chimed.

Everything was peaceful.

Orderly.

Beautiful.

Felix felt reassured.

Then a woman carrying a stack of documents hurried past him.

"You're the new attendant?" she asked without stopping.

"Felix, yes."

"Good. Follow me."

She walked away before he could ask a single question.

Felix hurried after her.

"May I ask your name?"

"Maribel. I oversee the household staff."

"Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise. Do you have any experience managing divine correspondence?"

"Some. I studied celestial administration during my preparation."

"Excellent. Can you organize documents by urgency, sender, and domain?"

"Of course."

"Can you distinguish an ordinary petition from one that requires immediate divine intervention?"

"I believe so."

"Can you recognize when a High Regent is being polite while threatening to destroy your career?"

Felix blinked.

Maribel glanced back at him.

"That last one comes with experience."

"Oh."

They turned down a corridor lined with portraits of gods, each more intimidating than the last.

"Your duties will become clearer once you meet Lady Jessica," Maribel continued. "For now, try to remain calm, listen carefully, and avoid making assumptions."

Felix nodded.

"Understood."

"Especially about her."

He hesitated.

"About her?"

Maribel stopped outside a pair of tall doors decorated with silver vines.

"She's not quite what people expect."

Before Felix could ask what that meant, Maribel knocked twice.

A voice came from inside.

"If that's another document, leave it outside."

Maribel closed her eyes briefly.

"Lady Jessica, your new attendant has arrived."

Silence.

Then—

"My what?"

Maribel opened the doors.

"Your new attendant, my lady. Felix. He passed the Celestial Proving Grounds and was assigned to your household yesterday."

A long pause followed.

Then a young woman appeared from behind a desk buried beneath papers.

Felix forgot every greeting he had prepared.

Goddess Jessica was beautiful.

Not merely attractive in the way noblewomen at mortal courts were attractive. There was something unmistakably otherworldly about her. Her long silver-white hair fell over her shoulders, and her violet eyes held a faint, luminous glow. She wore elegant white robes embroidered with gold, and a delicate celestial ornament rested against her forehead.

She looked exactly like someone who belonged in a palace above the clouds.

Unfortunately, she also looked like someone who had just discovered that the universe had personally offended her.

Her gaze moved from Maribel to Felix.

Then down to his uniform.

Then back to his face.

"No."

Felix blinked.

Jessica pointed at him.

"Whatever this is, no."

"My lady," Maribel said patiently, "the appointment has already been approved by the Assignment Conclave."

"Then the Assignment Conclave can take him back."

"I don't believe that is how the process works."

"Then they should improve their process."

Maribel sighed with the quiet exhaustion of someone who had participated in this exact argument far too many times.

"Felix, this is Goddess Jessica."

Felix bowed immediately.

"An honor to meet you, my lady."

Jessica stared at him.

He maintained his bow.

After several seconds, he cautiously straightened.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Yes," Jessica replied. "You."

Felix's smile faltered.

Ah.

So the attendants downstairs hadn't been impressed.

They had been sympathetic.

Jessica returned to her desk and dropped into her chair.

"Tell me something, Felix. Did you ask to be assigned here?"

"No, my lady. The Assignment Conclave selected me based on my results and suitability."

"Excellent. Then we can agree that neither of us wanted this."

Felix considered that.

"With respect, my lady, I was actually quite pleased when I received the assignment."

Jessica slowly raised her head.

"You were?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He hesitated.

Surely there was no harm in being honest.

"Because serving a goddess seemed like an excellent opportunity. The accommodations, the resources, the opportunity to learn from someone with centuries of experience—"

"Centuries?"

Jessica stared at him.

"How old do you think I am?"

Felix immediately regretted speaking.

"I meant that you possess considerable experience, my lady."

"Better answer."

She leaned back in her chair.

"Let me explain something to you, Felix. Being a goddess is not a vacation. It is a never-ending sequence of obligations, interruptions, ceremonies, petitions, and people who believe their personal problems deserve the immediate attention of the heavens."

She gestured at the desk.

A pile of documents slid sideways and toppled onto the floor.

"Exhibit A."

Felix looked at the fallen papers.

Then at the enormous stacks covering the desk.

Then at Jessica.

He was beginning to suspect that the situation was more complicated than he had imagined.

Still, he couldn't help asking, "But surely you have people to help with all of this?"

Jessica's expression changed.

Not dramatically.

Just enough for him to notice.

"I did."

She looked at the door.

"They were promoted, transferred, reassigned, or otherwise discovered more appealing places to be."

Maribel became extremely interested in a nearby curtain.

Felix looked between them.

"All of them?"

"Every last one."

"That seems unfortunate."

"It was a tragedy. There were tears. There were farewell speeches. One of them actually hugged me."

Jessica paused.

"That was the worst part."

Felix wasn't sure whether she was joking.

He decided it was safer not to ask.

Jessica picked up a document and waved it at him.

"Do you know what this is?"

"A petition, my lady?"

"A petition requesting that I bless a man's new bakery because he claims his bread tastes better when the sun shines on it."

Felix stared at her.

"Does it?"

"How should I know? I'm a goddess, not a baker."

She tossed the petition onto another pile.

"And yesterday, someone requested that I settle an argument between two siblings over who inherited their grandmother's collection of decorative spoons."

Felix pressed his lips together.

He really didn't want to laugh at his new employer.

He really, really didn't.

Jessica narrowed her eyes.

"Are you smiling?"

"No, my lady."

"Your mouth says otherwise."

"I apologize."

"Don't apologize. Just explain why you think any of this is reasonable."

Felix straightened.

"Well, perhaps they believe your wisdom could help them resolve their problems."

Jessica stared at him as if he had just spoken in an extinct language.

"My wisdom."

"Yes, my lady."

"They want my wisdom on spoons."

"Decorative spoons, apparently."

For one terrible moment, Felix thought she might throw the entire desk at him.

Instead, Jessica closed her eyes and inhaled slowly.

"Maribel."

"Yes, my lady?"

"Leave us."

Maribel bowed.

"Of course."

She walked toward the door, then paused beside Felix.

Her expression was perfectly composed.

Her eyes, however, seemed to be offering him a silent prayer.

Good luck.

The doors closed.

Felix was alone with his goddess.

And suddenly, his luxurious new life felt a little less luxurious.

Jessica pointed to a chair.

"Sit."

Felix sat.

"Now, before we proceed, I want to establish a few rules."

He nodded and reached for the small notebook he had brought for his first day.

Jessica watched him open it.

"Are you taking notes?"

"Yes, my lady. I thought it would be best to remember your instructions."

She studied him for a moment.

"You're either very diligent or very nervous."

"A little of both, my lady."

"Hm. At least you're honest."

She folded her hands on the desk.

"Rule one: don't call me magnificent."

Felix paused with his pen above the page.

"Was that something you were expecting me to do?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Understood."

"Rule two: don't tell me how fortunate I am to be a goddess."

Felix slowly wrote it down.

"Rule three: if someone arrives claiming that their problem will destroy the balance of the universe, ask them whether it can wait until tomorrow."

He looked up.

"Can it?"

"Usually."

He wrote that down, too.

Jessica leaned forward.

"And rule four: never volunteer me for anything."

"Of course."

"I mean anything. No ceremonies, no speeches, no divine celebrations, no spontaneous acts of kindness requested by people who have never met me."

Felix hesitated.

"Wouldn't refusing every request affect your reputation?"

Jessica gave him a look of profound disappointment.

"Felix, my reputation is the reason I have so many requests."

He couldn't argue with that.

She leaned back, apparently satisfied.

"Good. We understand each other."

Felix glanced at his notebook.

He had been in the palace for less than an hour and had already learned four rules, discovered that his employer disliked her own job, and witnessed a goddess lose an argument with a stack of paperwork.

It was certainly different from what he had imagined.

Still, he was determined to do well.

"May I ask what you expect from me, my lady?"

Jessica appeared surprised by the question.

"What do I expect?"

"Yes. As your attendant, I'd like to understand how I can be useful."

For the first time since their meeting began, she seemed to consider him as something other than an administrative inconvenience.

"Fine. You'll start by sorting those documents."

She pointed to the largest pile on her desk.

Felix followed her finger.

The pile was taller than his head when measured from the chair.

He stared at it.

Jessica smiled.

It was not a kind smile.

"By urgency, sender, and domain. Maribel will show you where everything belongs. If you finish before sunset, I'll consider your appointment a success."

Felix looked at the papers again.

"All of them?"

"Every single one."

"Before sunset?"

"That is what I said."

He glanced toward the window.

The sun was still high above the clouds, but he wasn't sure how much time that gave him. The documents seemed to multiply the longer he looked at them.

He cleared his throat.

"My lady, may I make a suggestion?"

Jessica's smile vanished.

"You've been here forty minutes, and you're already making suggestions?"

"Technically, I believe it's been thirty-seven."

She stared at him.

Felix wished he could take the words back.

"That," Jessica said slowly, "is precisely the kind of attention to detail I find irritating."

He lowered his eyes.

"Understood."

"Good. Now get started."

Felix stood, collected the first stack, and carried it to the smaller table beside the window.

He began sorting.

For the first few minutes, the room remained quiet.

He found petitions concerning trade disputes, requests for divine blessings, invitations to ceremonies, and several reports about minor disturbances in the outer territories.

The work was tedious, but manageable.

Then he reached a document bearing a silver seal.

He examined it carefully.

The seal belonged to a representative of the Third Divine Order.

Felix checked the date, read the opening lines, and glanced toward Jessica.

"My lady?"

"What?"

"This report is marked for immediate attention."

"Then put it in the urgent pile."

"I believe it concerns a dispute over a celestial border."

"Then put it in the urgent pile."

"It was submitted three weeks ago."

Jessica stopped moving.

Slowly, she turned toward him.

"Three weeks?"

"Yes, my lady."

She held out her hand.

Felix passed her the document.

She read it.

Her expression became increasingly unpleasant.

"Who put this in the ordinary correspondence pile?"

"I don't know, my lady."

Jessica looked at the document again.

Then she looked at Felix.

Then, with the exhausted air of someone watching a perfectly predictable disaster unfold, she dropped her forehead onto the desk.

"Of course."

Felix stood silently.

He had no idea what was happening, but he was beginning to understand why the previous attendants had left.

After a moment, Jessica lifted her head.

"All right. New instruction."

Felix reached for his notebook.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Anything from the Third Order or above goes into the urgent pile until I say otherwise."

He wrote it down.

"And if a document has a silver seal?"

"Urgent."

"A gold seal?"

"Urgent."

"A black seal?"

Jessica paused.

"Come and get me."

Felix nodded.

"Understood."

He returned to sorting.

This time, he paid closer attention to the seals.

And Jessica, despite herself, found that she was watching him.

He wasn't complaining. He wasn't asking when he could leave. He wasn't flattering her or pretending that every instruction she gave was brilliant.

He simply worked.

It was suspicious.

Most people wanted something from her. Favor, recognition, power, influence. Even those who claimed to admire her often seemed more interested in what her position could offer them.

Felix, on the other hand, appeared to be genuinely trying to do his job.

Jessica wasn't sure what to make of that.

She decided not to think about it.

Thinking about things was how one ended up with more responsibilities.

And she had enough of those already.

By the time the sun began to dip toward the horizon, Felix had organized nearly half the documents.

His fingers were stained with ink. His back ached. He had discovered that divine paperwork was somehow more exhausting than the Celestial Proving Grounds.

But he had done it.

He stood proudly beside the sorted piles.

"My lady, I've finished the first half."

Jessica looked at the table.

Then at the desk.

Then back at Felix.

"Half?"

"Yes."

She checked the time.

He had made excellent progress.

Annoyingly excellent progress.

"Fine," she said. "You may stop for today."

Felix let out a breath of relief.

"Thank you, my lady."

"Don't thank me. You haven't finished the other half."

His relief disappeared.

Jessica almost smiled.

Almost.

"Your quarters are in the east wing. Maribel will show you where to go. Report here tomorrow morning."

"At what time?"

"After breakfast."

"What time is breakfast?"

"Whenever you eat it."

Felix waited for an explanation.

None came.

"Is there a specific schedule?"

Jessica picked up another document.

"Felix."

"Yes, my lady?"

"Tomorrow, when you arrive, bring me something sweet."

He blinked.

"Something sweet?"

"Preferably a pastry."

"Of course. Is there a particular kind you prefer?"

Jessica finally looked up.

For a moment, she seemed almost offended that he had asked.

Then she waved him away.

"Surprise me."

Felix bowed and left the room.

The doors closed behind him.

He stood in the corridor, exhausted but strangely optimistic.

His first day hadn't been perfect.

His goddess was difficult, her instructions were questionable, and her paperwork could probably bury a small village.

But he had made progress.

And tomorrow, he would bring her a pastry.

How complicated could that possibly be?

Inside the office, Jessica stared at the closed doors.

Then she looked at the neatly organized documents.

Then at the empty chair where Felix had been sitting.

For the first time that day, the room felt a little less unbearable.

She picked up a petition.

Read the first line.

Put it down again.

"No," she muttered.

She reached for another.

"Absolutely not."

Then she glanced toward the door.

"At least the new one can sort papers."

She paused.

A small, reluctant smile touched her face.

"Let's see how long that lasts."