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Chapter Text

ALEXIOS

Lightning flashed in the sky, followed by a thunder that Alexios felt through his bones. “Look at that storm,” Barnabas said beside him. “Zeus and Hera must be having another fight.” Indeed. The dark waters crashed against the hull of the Adrestia, drenching everyone in freezing waters. The singing abruptly stopped and he heard one of his men curse because of the cold. It was unlike any storm Alexios had encountered in the Aegean.

Chapter Text

For the night, the ship Adrestia was docked on Seriphos Island. Herodotos, who told you that the island was also called “Cradle of Myths,” was busy conversing with the soldiers, perhaps finally satisfied with your answers to his questions about your homeland. The commander left the ship upon arrival to take care of some business on the island, followed by Barnabas. More than an hour had passed since then. You couldn’t stand the crew’s snoring and thus you decided to explore the island on your own. In the middle of the night.

Your first destination was the market, which had so many vases you wondered how much the people produced in a day. It reminded you of the days you spend with your female attendants in the markets in Babylon, though it was different than this. You noticed that while the potters there focused on the composition, most of the time using metal for vases, the Greeks gave efforts to intricate paintings depicting stories and legendary characters. Back at home, you only paid attention to the clothes and jewelry when in the market. Not a single day you imagined yourself appreciating pottery.

The next destination was the prominent structure at the center of the island that overlooked the small town. The ornate architecture and the splendid murals told you that it was a temple. With little knowledge about the Greek gods, you discovered that the temple was meant for the goddess Athena after asking around. Even though it was midnight, it was not short of worshippers. By the, you knew about the goddess and that Athens was named after her, yet seeing her actual temple gave you a strange feeling inside. Your last destination in the Cradle of Myths was the place where they produced the vases. The island, though rather small, was beautiful in its own. It was just different from Persia.  You couldn’t imagine how sprawling cities like Lakonia or Korinthia looked like.

And then lastly, you found yourself sitting at the edge of the cliff on a nearby lagoon, staring at the horizon—the direction of your homeland. Sighing, you closed your eyes, letting the sound of the waves and the night fill your mind.

No tight-lipped attendants were following you, no unbearable guards were ensuring your safety, and no overbearing mother was reprimanding you after gallivanting around town. Your closest brother wasn’t present too, and neither was your ever-intimidating grandmother. For the first time in your life, you were truly alone.

Your stomach growled in hunger, reminding you of you how hopeless you were. Was it really worth it, running away from your perfect life where you never had to work, was cared for at all times, and never felt hungry nor cold? What was so bad with marrying, anyway? What was so bad at experiencing failed attempts on your life almost every day? What was so bad a home that I left?

As if she heard what you were thinking, your mother’s charming face appeared in your mind, followed by her silvery voice. “Look at your pathetic self,” she maintained. “Lost in the land of the enemy, surrounded by strangers, hungry, with nothing but a blanket to protect her from the cold. What has become of the granddaughter of the King of Persia and Media?”

“I hate you.” You grabbed a stone by your side and threw it far out into the ocean. Cursing, you kicked the air beneath your legs and rubbed at your eyes.

You pushed those memories at the back of your mind and thought of something else. The first thing to come to your mind was the commander’s face. No, no. There are more important things to think about. Pushing him out of your mind, you settled with recalling the events of your day. Upon being rescued, you found yourself spending the rest of the journey to Seriphos sitting beside the man named Herodotos. Apparently, he was the one who insisted on heading right in the middle of the storm and saving you. To lessen your boredom brought by the endless sight of the sea, he asked you questions about your home and told you stories of faraway lands. His knowledge about the past made an impression on you. You knew the old man was more than what he appeared to be. Barnabas, the commander’s second in command, chimed in as much as he could with the stories of the Greek gods and legendary heroes. While you were impressed by the former’s knowledge, you were delighted by the latter’s humor. Barnabas had his own fill of adventures at sea, even losing an eye to what he called Poseidon’s “murderous pet.” Whether the mythical creature truly existed, you believed that it wouldn’t stand a chance against your mother and your grandmother’s combined wickedness.

Out of nowhere, your senses alerted you of a rustle in the bushes. Very soft steps coming from behind. So faint, it was almost mistakable as the wind. Your ears twitched. Two-legged. Not an animal then. You did not dare give a sign that you were aware.

You immediately put a hand on your satchel. Pulling an arrow, you stood and faced your attacker. You expected a bandit. But it was just the commander. “Chaire,” Alexios said, raising his hands in surrender. “How did you even know I was coming?”

Releasing a nervous breath, you put away your only weapon and massaged your temples. “My senses are going wild,” you explained with a shrug. Wild was hardly the best way to describe your oddly sensitive senses. “Why were you sneaking up on me like that?

He shrugged. “I was just testing you.”

You cursed in Persian. “I thought I was meeting bandits for the first time.”

“Consider yourself lucky it is me.” Alexios sat down by your spot. “I have been looking everywhere for you, Princess. I had to ask around the Chora about you.”

Sitting beside him, you asked, “The Chora? At midnight? Am I that eye-catching?”

“You mean conspicuous?” His eyes trailed down your blood-soaked clothes. “Yes. They said you spent some time in the market. Then, you went to the temple. Your accent gave it away, really.”

“No.” Your face turned pale. “What if Mother sends guards after me?”

“Who wouldn’t do that if their child goes missing?”

Suddenly, your heart began to beat faster. You left Susa with a letter for your mother stating that you were to live your life in Carthage as a normal person, not royalty. What if she didn’t believe that lie? Beneath her allure, she was clever and calculating—you already knew that. The first place where she would look for you was Athens where she told your real father was. “I’m such a fool,” you repeated over and over in your head.

“Why have you come to Greece, anyway? There is a war between the Spartans and Athenians.” At the mention of war, you found yourself staring back at the horizon where your home was. “Other factions are also trying to get involved in it,” he added.

“I am aware of the war. My uncle Hystaspes is even trying to profit from it, trying to get the people involved again.” A cold wind rose from the sea, making you hug the blanket tighter. A small part of you wished you were back home, nestled in front of the fire with your pet in the comfort of the palace. “I am a bastard child,” you paused. As much as it ached your heart to say it, it was the truth, and there was no denying it. “I was raised as the granddaughter of Xerxes, being the daughter of another and a general who was fought in the invasion of Greece. But on my birthday, my mother told me the truth.” Trying to tell the truth with little emotion was more difficult than you expected it to be.

“That is why you ran away?”

“No. My mother then said I am going to get married in Bactria in a few weeks’ time so I must pack up. That’s the summary of everything.” The summary that barely scratched the surface. The marriage was just your breaking point. It was not the thing that had you abandon your life of constant luxury. Everything started when you were nine, and nine years later, here you were, in Greece, talking to a person you hardly knew. As much as you wanted to burst into tears and tell everything, you couldn’t, especially when you were yet to accept the truth.

"I am sorry to hear that,” Alexios said. You were sorry for yourself too. "Greece has so much to offer to you,” he added. If that was true, then perhaps your decision was not so foolish after all.

Your eyes shifted back to Alexios. “Thank you. I’m waiting to see that.”

“But what if your father rejects you?” With that simple question, your optimism shattered into tiny pieces. Caught up with the thought of finding your father, you ultimately forgot that he might not even accept you.

You run your hands through your hair, a million scenarios running through your head. That was why it felt like something was missing. Though in your mind, your father would accept you and all would be well in the end, you still needed a second plan. So you prepared yourself. You had prepared for this by selling your possessions, your properties, your jewelry, your clothes—everything you had. Ending up with a lot of money, you thought it more than enough to start anew in Greece. But the only thing you were left with was a satchel. Everything, lost to the sea, even your bow! “The pirates. That storm. Damn it, they took everything from me! I had the money, misthios. I had it—I had lots of it. But then those pirates came and that storm sank everything. I have no gold. I can’t buy food. I’ll have to go back to Persia somehow. And then I will marry that prince. Live in a far—”

Alexios grabbed you by your shoulders to calm you down, pulling you from your bleak thoughts. “Slow down, Princess.” You stared at the stars reflected on his brown eyes, his furrowed eyebrows, the faint scar on right cheek. “Perhaps your pater won’t reject you. Perhaps he will. Either way, you don’t have to come back.” He let go of you, coldness immediately settling at the spot. Alexios then gave you a thoughtful look. “You can work. Earn back that gold. You know how to fight, right?”

To begin with, your brother was a mere student himself. And your training was never finished due to your mother’s interception. Work. All your life, you never had to lift your finger to get what you wanted. It was all handed to you just because you were Amytis’ daughter. Though you would eventually handle your growing number of properties, it was not as difficult as what kind of work Alexios was suggesting.

In a letter, you lied to your mother that you would live your life as a normal person in Carthage. If that truly happened, you would eventually work for someone else. It was time you faced the inevitable. “I know enough to survive. Very easy.”

“Very easy, according to a princess.” Alexios smiled.

You raised a brow. “Do not underestimate me, misthios.”

“Well, with that, you can become a misthios. Imagine, a Persian princess, granddaughter to Xerxes himself, a misthios? Now, that has never happened before. What would they call you?”

Crossing your arms, you narrowed your eyes at him. “You make it sound like it already happened.” Your gaze swept over Alexios and lingered on his weapons. He had a sword, a spearhead, a bow, and a quiver full of arrows. You had to be more than fit in order to utilize a wide variety of weapons. If that was the case, then you had a long way to go if you were to become successful at your job like him. Other than being excellent with a bow, nothing. Archery was all you knew. But what kind of jobs did mercenaries provided? And the payment, was it enough? If Alexios was able to possess a large ship with a lot of crew, perhaps it was good?

He analyzed your face for a moment before suggesting, “Or a hetaera.”

“What is that?” Judging by the way he looked at your face earlier—oh. “Misthios, I came all the way here from Babylon to escape a marriage,” you chuckled. “I cannot accept that.”

“How about a part of my crew?”

Your gaze swept over the sea, then at the direction of your home. Gone would be the effortless life as royalty. At sea, you would have to defend yourself against the forces you encountered earlier this day. The sea was teeming with pirates, and though you haven’t encountered any, you knew the land had bandits as a counterpart. War was also tearing Greece apart. Here, you would have to work and prepare to fight for life almost every second.

“You are free now. You can do whatever you want. You can live in Greece or go to the places you have never been to. But you have to start with making drachmae,” he added. He spoke as if he knew. No matter how effortless it was to get whatever you desired back home, you were never able to do what you wanted. Life, though splendid, was restricted to protocols that you had to follow forever. But like what Alexios said, you were free. By leaving Persia, you also left those bonds behind.

“You’re right. I can do whatever I want.” The corners of your lips tugged up into a smile, an expression which was mirrored on his face that made your heart beat in a strange way. “I’ll start with being a mercenary. It just so happens that I am proficient with the bow. What kind of jobs do you do?”

He stared at the waves as they hit the shore. Above, an eagle screeched, tearing through the silence. “I deliver, I seek treasure, I search for missing people, I put dangerous creatures to death, I sink ships, I fight in wars, and I hunt witches, politicians, and leaders.” Alexios looked back to you as he continued, “It has taken me from a small island to the corners of Greece.” It meant that he did everything. It was more than a simple job, his eyes told you. If you wanted to regain your lost gold back by being a mercenary, you had to do everything.

It was not the life you wanted, it was the life you needed. “I accept, Alexios. It’s a challenge I will do as I find my pater.”

He smiled at you. Again. You rolled your eyes and looked to the sea. When would he stop underestimating you? You were a princess, yes, but that was over. “You need a weapon. Everyone does, especially during these times.” He grabbed his bow and handed it to you. “Here, don’t worry. I have more.”

“What?” Eyes wide in shock, you glanced back and forth between him and the sleek, white bow in your hands. It was beautiful. You’d been staring at it all day as Herodotos bombarded you with questions and stories. Now, it was yours. It is mine. "Unbelievable. Are you sure?" The bow that your brother gave you fell into the sea when the pirates came. 

Alexios nodded. "You will need it, Princess. Take that as a sign of my gratitude.”

“Thank you.” You smiled and stretched the bowstring, aiming at the sky, then at the horizon. The curves felt perfect in your hand like it was made for you. “How did you come across such a beautiful weapon?” You tested it with an arrow and released a shot. It plunged in the water too far for you to hear. “Excellent,” you muttered.

“A man named Kleon may have given it to me,” he hesitated.

“I ought to thank him as well.” You glanced at him before testing the bow once again, reminding you of the times when your brother first taught you how to use it. You never missed a target. You’d been using your strong senses ever since. 

“So, tell me what happened next? How were you able to escape Persia?”

You were still marveling at the small details of the bow when you uttered, “I asked my younger and favorite brother for help. He accepted. He even wrote a parting letter for my mother pretending to be me. It was hilarious,” you chuckled. “Then, he hired a ship to take me directly to Messenia.” You sighed, remembering the pirates that spared no one from the crew. “It was going well. The weather was perfect, the ship was fitting for me, the men were polite and silent. They never asked about my identity as I was traveling incognito.” When you glanced at Alexios, he looked doubtful. “That was the most ordinary of my clothes,” you chuckled. “Then those ferocious pirates came and killed everyone within a matter of minutes. I fought, of course. I didn’t come all this way just to be killed by marauders.”

“Your brother?” he asked. Why do you ask so many questions, Alexios?

Finally putting down the bow, you laid on flat on your back, legs dangling at the side of the cliff. Closing your eyes, you felt the weariness of the journey settling in. The ship, despite its beauty, was difficult to sleep in. Or perhaps it was not the ship but the nightmares of a snake you suffered consecutively. “Yes, Artyphius. The younger of my two brothers. If it wasn’t for him, I would still be in Babylon. I owe him so much. He taught me how to fight but our training was never finished because Mother found out. She was against it for some reason. I only learned the bow.” You thought of your only friend and the only person who seemed to care for you at home, wishing to the stars that he wouldn’t get punished for aiding your escape. Lying was the worst of offenses. “I miss him." You hoped that losing Artyphius for your father was worth it in the end.

“I can help you, (Y/N),” Alexios proposed. “No, I will help you find your pater.” Curious, you opened your eyes and sat back up. Your head ached with a dull pain at the sudden action.

“For a price, I guess?” you questioned, clearly interested in this offer. "But I have nothing.” Under the blanket, you placed a hand on your satchel. “Absolutely nothing."

“That’s not necessary. Just out of the kindness of my heart."

“Two acts of kindness in one night. And just why will you waste your time on a stranger’s own problems? Especially a Persian stranger?”

He smiled. Again. Your cheeks suddenly felt warm. “Because you might get lost. You don’t know who to ask from, where to start, who to stay away from—things like that.”

“What if I do?”

“What if you don’t?”

You rolled your eyes. Then, you regarded Alexios with a narrow look, from his way the wind touched his hair, his brown eyes reflecting the night, his slightly parted lips—No, not that kind of details, (Y/N). He was a mercenary, armed with various weapons at his disposal. You were certain he was capable of killing someone in a hundred different ways, and he could do it to you should you find yourself at the other end of his favor. But at the same time, he did not seem like the person who would harm you indiscriminately for his satisfaction. He also saved you from a tempest that risked both his and his men’s lives. If anything, your conversation with him only eased the feeling you’d been harboring in your chest ever since you ran away from home. You hoped he was a good person, and you weren’t being naïve.

Your gaze met his, and it remained that way for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak something, then stopped himself from saying it. 

You were the first to break the stare. Clearing your throat, you said, "Fine. Uhm, I wouldn’t mind the company. When will we go to Athens?" 

"At daybreak," Alexios replied. You glanced at him, but he was already staring ahead. 

The heavens were slowly turning into a dark shade of blue. At the horizon where the navy sky and the calm sea met, the light was slowly rising. A whale rose and broke through the surface of the water, and above, the eagle that followed Alexios around made a sharp sound. Beautiful. The morning was approaching, you didn’t even get a blink of sleep! “Do you mean, right now?” you asked.

“The sooner you meet your father, the better.”

“Wake up.” It was the first word you heard, followed by the distant sounds of the sea and the noise of the crowd. “We’ve arrived in Athens,” the soft voice spoke again.

Obliviously, you attempted to scratch your neck, but your hand fell before you could touch anything. “Go away,” you mumbled in Persian. “. . . have you punished for that.” It was becoming too hot, you could feel the sun’s warmth on your face. The blanket wrapped around you was making everything worse.

“What?” the voice said, trying to contain laughter. “(Y/N).” He moved so close to your ear that you could feel his breath on your cheek. He touched your shoulder lightly. “(Y/N), if you do not wake up, I will throw you down the sea.”

You gasped, blinded by the sunlight when your eyelids cracked open abruptly. Alexios’ blurry face moved away from you. “I’m awake! I’m awake,” you repeated. Was that even sleep? You were certain that you only napped for about an hour. Yawning, you rubbed at your eyes and stretched, forgetting your manners in front of someone who stood right in front of you. You suddenly sat straight and repeated, “I am awake.”

He smiled. “Finally, I thought throwing you down the water was necessary.”

You stood up. “I think it would be my pleasure.” You were still wearing clothes you had when they found you. It was sticky, had patches of blood, and already disgusting. Not only the blood would make you stand out in the crowd, but also the style. Back at home, you wouldn’t worry about ruining a dress so beautiful like this since you had an endless supply of it. But now it was all you had and you couldn’t stand it anymore. “I reek of . . . death.”

“Get used to it. That will happen a lot if you become a mercenary.” What? Perhaps you should opt for a much cleaner occupation. “I already sent Odessa to buy you some clothes.” At that, your face lit up with a smile. Finally.  “And you can’t face your father looking . . .”

“Looking like what?” Suddenly, as if on impulse, your hands searched for your satchel. No. You immediately panicked when you didn’t feel it by your side. “Where is my satchel? Where? Help me find it, now!” Alexios looked away and bit his lip to contain his laughter. “What? What’s funny about this, huh? It is the most—"

“Princess, it’s right behind you.”

“What?” You looked back to where you slept earlier. Somehow, while you slept, it slipped off your shoulder. What if anyone saw its contents? You grabbed it quickly and embraced it. “The world will end if this falls into the wrong hands,” you muttered.

Behind you, Alexios asked, “What is in there anyway?”

You faced him and placed it on your shoulder, as casually as you could. “It’s nothing. Just my . . . an heirloom! All the way back from Cassandane herself. Mother gave it to me on my birthday. It was given to her by her father.” When you looked back to him, Alexios had a dubious look on his face. He wasn’t buying it. “Wait, why do I have to explain myself?”

“An heirloom?” he asked again. Your hands tightened around the strap of the bag. “So, you’re a real royalty? Or are you just pretending to be one?”

“How—” Eyes wide, you gaped at him and stepped back. “How dare you accuse me of deceit? After all I’ve—you still don’t believe me?” You threw the blanket at the seat and exposed the golden pendant you wore around your neck. It depicted the golden falcon with outspread wings. “This is an heirloom that is only worn by the descendants of Cyrus. Pure gold. I have two living uncles: Arsames, the governor of Egypt, Hystaspes, trying to be king, King Artaxerxes, missing. My mother, Amytis, is sister to the rightful king Artaxerxes and daughter of King Xerxes himself. I am sure you know him. My father is My brothers are Zopyrus and Artyphius. I grew up in Babylon and Susa, then spent some years in Egypt—”

“Your grandfather is Xerxes?” At last, Alexios finally looked like he believed the truth.

“Yes. But he was long dead when I was born. Mother is his youngest child. My mother, together with my grandmother, Amestris, have a big influence on the affairs of the kingdom. As a child, Mother revealed to me her plans to make her like me, so I know all of this. They are cruel. I’m glad that Father was there, whisking me away to different parts of the empire. If he wasn’t, I won’t be here. I will be back home plotting with them. My father, Megabyzus was a nobleman, a general during the war, and the governor of Syria. Against my mother, he took me to the places where he had to work. I’ve been through the edges of the empire but the most remarkable place I had ever been to was Egypt. It was the first time I ever saw a pyramid, and it was spectacular. The height is unimaginable. And then Memphis, and Siwa. Yes, I will never forget Siwa. I used to be invited back to Egypt by my uncle as if he knew how much I loved the place. Have you ever been to the desert, Alexios?”

Oh. In just a minute, you had revealed so much of yourself to a stranger. And all along, you were smiling like a fool. You didn’t realize. The words just tumbled out of your mouth with no control, especially when you recalled your memories with your father. You cleared your throat and put your hands to your waist. “What? Do you believe me now, huh?”

“Fine. I believe you, Princess, not everyone can travel to faraway lands too easily. And I haven’t been to the desert but I heard about it.”

You suddenly grabbed his arm and gestured to the sea with an open hand. “You must consider it. You have a ship and a crew, so you can. Imagine that, all of that water, as sand—golden sand. Endless dunes of golden sand. Now, look up to the sky.” When he continued looking at you, you tipped his chin up. “I’m not the sky. The sky is not much different, but I thought it was brighter. Maybe because it’s just too hot.” As you let go of him, an eagle screeched from above. “Is that your pet?”

Alexios glanced up at the bird and answered, “Yes, Ikaros.” He folded his arm and the eagle perched on him. The eagle! On his arm. He ran his hand over its back, softly against feathers. Still, it did not fly away.

“How were you able to tame such a creature?” You gaped at the two. “Remarkable.”

“I found him as a hatchling on the mountain when I was a child,” Alexios said, casually.

“And he has been with you ever since? Impossible.” You met his gaze and asked, “Can I touch him?”

“Go ahead. He doesn’t bite.”

As your hand hovered carefully closer to Ikaros’ back, quick, heavy steps padded against the wooden flooring of the ship. Ikaros made a sharp sound and flew away. You groaned and glared at the source of the sound.

A dark-haired woman with a bow was storming toward the two of you, followed by another who wore the armor of a warrior. You assumed they were Alexios’ too-attractive lieutenants. The former was carrying a package wrapped in cloth while talking rapidly as the crew parted ways for them. “I can’t believe he sent us all the way into the middle of Athens just to buy clothes. A princess’s clothes! I thought this is an important ‘errand.’”

The second lieutenant added, “Why can’t she just get it herself? She’s not in her Persia anymore, she’s in Greece. She’s nothing here. We should leave her in Athens and—"

You stepped closer to her. When the woman noticed that you were right in front of her, she stopped in her tracks. “And do what exactly?” Though you found the lieutenant’s appearance a bit intimidating, you weren’t about to back down. You had faced much tougher people at court. If you managed to survive an audience with the queen mother where she chastised you for almost an hour, you could face anyone. You grandmother humiliated you, and she was the worst.

“Abandon you here, Persian.” She uttered the last word like it was dirt on her tongue. “I never wanted you here. You should’ve died with that cursed storm.”

Though you were almost the same height, you raised your chin and looked down at her. “Yet you are the one bringing me my clothes like my lowly servant.”

“I wouldn’t have done it without the commander’s orders.”

“And your commander seems to comply with my demands.

“Shut your mouth, you dirty malaka.” Her thick brows knitted together in anger. A storm was brewing in her deep, green eyes. “You don’t have the right to order us around. You’re but a pretty face here in Greece, no title, nothing. Go back to your home or you’ll have a taste of your own medicine.”

You raised a brow and crossed your arms. You didn’t understand what the word meant but by looking at the way the dark-haired lieutenant placed a hand on this woman’s arm to stop her, it must be something. “You think that piece of junk you wear gives you the right to speak to me that way? Without your rusty sword, you are worthless to your commander. No one will remember you when you die, while a whole city will mourn mine. I am a descendant of the founder of an empire while you are just a speck in the sands of time. Know our difference, d. This will be the last time you will speak to me that way again.”

“All right. That is enough.” Alexios stepped between the two of you before it escalated into a fight. He handed you your clothes. “Here, you can have your clothes, Princess.” He then looked back to his lieutenant who was shaking with fury and said, “Thank you, Arete. I’m sure that (Y/N) is thankful deep inside her heart for that.

You hugged the clothes and peered at Arete past Alexios’ shoulder. “Thank you.”

At this simply remark, she made a move to approach you but the woman with the bow pulled her arm. “Let it go, Arete,” she muttered. Alexios blocked the way between the two of you.

“Calm down, at least she is thankful, right Odessa? Why don’t you take our tough lieutenant here to the city to blow off some steam? I will take care of the princess here,” As Alexios was saying that, Odessa was trying to calm Arete down. It seemed like something about what you said triggered something in her. Wow, she has temper issues. As they walked away, Arete gave you one last deathly stare. You merely at her and waved goodbye. They almost bumped into Barnabas on the way out of the ship. He managed to step away, brows raised in confusion. Every eye on the ship was staring at two as they departed, taking with them the silence and the tension.

Alexios turned around and faced you as if he was expecting an explanation.

“What does malaka mean? I felt offended. Fine, I and your lieutenant are both at fault here. Her for talking behind me like that and me by making the situation worse. I don’t regret what happened, although seeing your face like that makes me feel like I owe you an apology.”

He did not reply. Your gaze shifted from his dark brown eyes to the spear on is back. Your fingers hovered over your satchel.

“I am sorry, Alexios.” You never expected this day to come—you, apologizing. “I will never let my pride decide my words again, all right?”

With that, the seriousness on his face broke into a smile. “I never asked you to do that, Princess. If there is anyone who needs apologizing, it’s both you and Arete.”

You rolled your eyes and groaned. “Ah, this is embarrassing. I hate you. It’s just that if she hates me, why didn’t she just stay silent about it? I’m a living, breathing person! I have feelings that can get hurt.”

“That is true,” Barnabas appeared out of nowhere behind Alexios with the usual smile on his face.

“I know you will agree with me, Barnabas,” you said. "You and Herodotos are my only friends in this ship."

“Where have you been?” Alexios asked him. “You left immediately when we arrived. Were you that excited?”

“Just seeing Athens again. You know, it looks a lot different from the last time we were here. It is as if a calamity never passed here. . .” At this, you noticed how Alexios fell silent and his dark eyes looked distant. Barnabas was facing the city as he continued,” . . . the plague and all. And Kleon, finally he is gone.”

You knew what plague Barnabas was talking about. It came to your home as well. You were fortunate enough to be able to move far away and escape it, unlike the others who died in the streets. It was terrible to think that a force like that could appear anytime, anywhere, but nothing could combat it. You pushed it out of your head and asked Barnabas instead, “Where is Herodotos? I haven’t seen him around since I woke up.”

He stopped rambling about the plague and faced you. “Oh, he’s already with his like-minded friends. I believe they are having a symposium tonight. The preparation has already started so he might be occupied all day.” You hoped this would spare Alexios from his thoughts that did not look positive to you at all. And besides, Barnabas, who wanted to talk about the plague?

“A symposium? I think I have heard of that before.” From your Greek tutor, although you were not paying much attention since your brother was foolishly signaling to you from the window to escape—that, you remembered.

“You should ask Alexios.” Barnabas glanced at the wordless man beside him. “I think he’s been to one of those.”

“Really? How is it like?”

“It’s drinking and talking and celebrating. Aristocrats, poets, playwrights, all debating topics like politics and morality. I did not really enjoy it because had to remove my weapons and dress like them. Also, there is this other thing that happens.” You knew he tried to explain the symposium the best he could with matching hand gestures. At least you got the gist.

“Other what?” you asked. Barnabas was also anticipating an answer.

“There is this.” Alexios’ eyes narrowed as he bit his lip. Why couldn’t he explain whatever was that? Perhaps it was something that you would only understand if you attended an actual symposium. “Goat,” he blurted out, a light shade of red appearing on his cheeks.

“Goat?” Barnabas asked. You laughed at his incredulous tone and Alexios’ expression.

Alexios shook his head and uttered, “Ah, it doesn’t matter. Are you going, (Y/N)? I have friends that can accompany you.”

“In another day, I might. But I still have a father to look for.”

Barnabas’ remaining eye widened. His gaze shifted from your head down to your toes. “Your father? In Athens? But aren’t you from Persia?”

You grinned, fiddling with the strap of your satchel.

“Right. I haven’t explained it to you, Barnabas. And to you too, Alexios. My mother is a Persian princess while my pater is an Athenian. A hoplite—whatever that means. His name Herodion and I am searching for him here.”