Nikeros’s eyes were wide as he threw his hands up to prepare for her to fall, but she managed to stay topside. He squinted up at her, then sighed, “Aphrodite favored King Tyrinium for a short while just after his marriage to Aikaterine. It was not the best timing, to be sure. Leon and I were born moments apart to different mothers, but he is the legitimate heir, and he’s the one marrying the Theopopian princess.”
Korinna felt a warm rush of relief flow through her, though she had no idea why.
“Why?” Of course he was asking her.
One of his eyebrows was creeping upward, a bit too cocky for her liking, and his grin had similarly gone too brash. She rolled onto her back to hide her reddening face. “Uh, well, ya know,” she faltered, “It’s a big deal, you being royalty or whatever.”
“Not according to the queen,” he was quick to say. “Gods aren’t very good with babies, they tend to eat them, you know, so I grew up with the royal family, but Queen Aikaterine wasn’t ever very fond of me. I’m fairly certain she only let me survive because Aphrodite marked me to become an Erote, and she knew I’d never challenge Leon for the throne, not that I was ever interested.”
It was a lot to take in, and Korinna wanted desperately to say the right thing. She bit her lip and hesitantly tried, “So, it sounds like you’re very happy to be an Erote then.”
“Yes,” he said simply, “It probably saved my life.”
CHAPTER XIX
They reached the shore of the summit isle by dawn, joining many other ships flying both Theopopian and Dorinthian flags. The last of construction was still going on even as Korinna was finally able to disembark with Nikeros, the makeshift dock bustling with workers, but there were no vendors here, no carts of fish or exotic spices. Instead there were tents scattered up the beach and deeper into the island serving as dining halls, barracks, and spots for the visitors to lounge on overstuffed cushions. Prince Calix was quick to find Korinna and escort her to where his private set of chambers were, fully constructed buildings of wood and clay, where his wives were already milling about. They didn’t give Korinna a second glance, busy instead with setting up a loom and laughing with one another.
“How was this all possible?” Korinna asked. From what she remembered of Andreas’s point of view, the Dorinthians were enemies with Calix’s people through and through, but she saw the opposing kingdom’s banners hanging from tents alongside the Theopopians, and soldiers from each were sharing meals together, trading stories, and drinking.
“Fate,” he told her, “My sister, Phille, and Prince Leon met through the graces of the gods and have brought our countries together.” Korinna glanced back at Nikeros who nodded emphatically. “They will wed in a few days’ time, after we complete the agreement, of course.” Calix waved off the idea of the work to come. “But that’s not for you to concern yourself with. The night of the celebration, however? Fret away.”
She didn’t like how he said fret, though she didn’t like how he said a lot of things. Of course, his voice and mannerisms could grow on her (for Olympus’s sake even Nikeros’s perpetual chipper wasn’t nearly as annoying as it once had been), and if she only had to deal with him every, say, fourth night? Well, then Calix didn’t seem quite so bad at all.
Korinna was asked to join Calix’s retinue for the day, a group consisting of a man who was able to produce fresh, cool mead on command, a teenager who cracked jokes Korinna never found funny but felt compelled to laugh at whenever the prince did, a woman whose sole duty was to carry a cloth and blot away the prince’s sweat, and at least three others whose purposes were never revealed. Korinna’s purpose, though, was apparent: sketching staged scenes with the prince and his brothers, and even once King Autocratus joined in for a quick portrait of the group staring out at the sea. She was beginning to wonder if she would ever be capturing anything genuine here as all of their “work” appeared to be standing around mimicking what work might look like to someone else, but then the entourage was advised King Tyrinium and Prince Leon had arrived, and the mood drastically changed.
A fanciful structure had been erected just off the beach with a thatched roof and open sides for the breeze to pass through. The floor was scattered with rugs, and a single table was at its center with seating on either side. The entourage gathered in a far corner beside those of Calix’s brothers. It quickly became hot and cramped, and Korinna could not see over the soldiers who had lined up before them, her frustration mounting as she craned her neck and tried to get a quick outline of the space on her parchment.
“Here, let me help.” Nikeros, who’d purposely stayed hidden from his stepfamily, ducked down beside her, and suddenly Korinna felt herself be lifted into the air. She flailed her arms, thwacking him in the head with her parchment, but he didn’t waver, and she found herself well above the rest, sitting on his shoulder. She was fairly certain the danger of falling was minimal—Nikeros had leveraged an arm over her knees to keep her in place—but she couldn’t fight how tense her entire body had gone especially as she looked down at the same moment he glanced up from under messy curls of hair to give her an encouraging half smile.
Korinna’s face burned, quickly looking away, and she probably would have demanded he put her down if her sight didn’t suddenly fall on the Dorinth royals filing into the place. The king and queen came first, ornately dressed with chins held high, and behind them was Prince Leon. It was obvious he was Nikeros’s brother, his smile told her that, the chin they both inherited from their father a close second indicator, and the fact that he was almost as cute wasn’t entirely lost on her.
The Theopopian royals had stood for their arrival, but Princess Phille was first to break ranks. She hastened around the table before her mother could stop her, and met with Leon, their eyes locked on one another even as both sets of their parents voiced their disapproval for the break in protocol. Their hands came together, and they were lost then in a world all their own that even from this distance, and not knowing either of them, Korinna could feel. She put charcoal to parchment immediately.
Hours later, the entourage was disbanded at the entrance to an arena just at the edge of where the island’s foliage became too thick to maneuver. How it had gone up so quickly, Korinna would never know, and where the workers had gone, she didn’t want to know, but it was there, and it was huge. Calix took her up as a guest in his special seating with its own awning and set of servants, and for a moment she felt like royalty herself, even with a tiny striped field mouse in her pocket. It was nice, so long as Calix didn’t talk. But the prince couldn’t really help himself.
“Only the finest seats for the two of us.” He led her to the front of the box, a row of well-dressed, presumably lower ranked royals behind them. There were tiered benches below them, but no doubt they had the best view of the oval below, scraped completely flat and filled with the white sands from the beach.
“Yes, it’s quite nice.” She cringed a bit. “So how did all of this get built so quickly?”
“Oh, slaves or something.” He shrugged. “Wine?” A hollowed-out horn was thrust into her hand, and she did her best to not spill the dark red liquid inside, taking a sip under his instigation. “Only the absolute best from Knossos.”
It was quite good, she had to admit, but particularly strong. Unfortunately the shape of the goblet, tapering into a curved point, made putting it down impossible. Of course, that was probably the idea.
At the far side of the oval, a number of chariots, each pulled by a single horse, were lining up. They were adorned in colored banners matching that of the riders standing behind them. The track was huge, and Korinna supposed they would race, something she’d only heard about, and been bored by the description of, from Daphne’s husband who had been to the mainland.
Calix took a deep sip from his horn and passed it back to a servant for it to be refilled. How he was chasing the earlier part of the day’s countless meads, she wasn’t sure, but then again, this was not a normal day for him.
&
nbsp; “Calix,” she said while they waited for the chariots to properly line up, and he sat at attention, “Tell me, how would you spend your day back in Theopopolis when all of this isn’t going on?”
He seemed to think hard for the answer. “Well, I suppose I wake long after Eos has risen from her own slumber to ensure I’m completely rested for the day to come. This,”—he gestured to his face—“doesn’t just happen without rest, you see. I take a small meal with a companion, my brothers, perhaps a wife, then I set to the day’s tasks.” She raised her brows at him to go on, though she assumed he would regardless. “I work harder than Hephaestus in his smithy, I reckon, and then take a formal meal with my family. Then there is of course some merriment in the evening, well-earned. Ah, look, our champions!”
Down in the arena, the riders were being switched out for more heavily armored and helmeted men, each dressed in matching colors and being attended to by a fair few others.
“What kind of work do you do?” Korinna asked haphazardly while she tried to understand what end the men would be racing toward.
“Many different things.” He rubbed his hands before him. “Hunting, strategizing, just generally ruling the kingdom of Theopopolis, you know.”
Korinna cocked her head. She did not know. “Strategizing? Kind of like what I captured earlier in the, uh, war room?”
“Exactly!” He grinned, then stood suddenly and shouted down to the arena. “Manage to bring your balls along today, Flavian?” Korinna was taken aback, but Calix’s winked at her. “I’ve got a lot of drachma against him, don’t want him to get too sure of himself.” He leaned out over their railing and shouted again, “Your mother says good luck, she told me last night!”
Korinna sat back in her seat and slid down just as the charioteers took off, but Calix’s words were nothing compared to what the rest of the crowd began to shout.
“Ajaran ain’t minotaurshit!”
“Kill the Dorinthian bastards!”
“Slit his ankles, Herenous!”
She turned her horn up to her mouth and took a deep drink. “These people are crazy,” she whispered toward her shoulder, away from Calix.
Nikeros’s mouse form was hiding amongst her hair. “They’re…excitable, I’ll give you that.”
Calix remained standing, shouting down at the racers, and looking back at Korinna every so often. She’d plaster on a smile for him and occasionally offer a weak “woo” to the arena below as the horses thundered past yet again. How many times would they go around?
“Not convincing,” Nikeros chastised her from her shoulder.
“Well, I can hardly—oh my gods!” Korinna sat back with speed, crumpling into the seat. No one seemed to notice.
He sighed, “Okay, that’s like the opposite of what you should be doing.”
“No, didn’t you see?” She squeaked back to the mouse, “I think that’s…that’s…” Carefully, she sat up again and eyed the chariot in question as it passed. Deep burgundy and being pulled by the largest of the horses, the man steering it had thrown his helmet to the crowd when it pulled in front of the rest, knocking out a spectator to cheers from those around him. Underneath he’d revealed a sweat-soaked, overly-muscled, immeasurably-confident, Theopopian champion, Andreas. “By Zeus’s bolt, it is.”
The mouse squeaked high in her ear.
“That’s all you can say?” she hissed back louder than she meant.
“What was that, my sweet?”
Korinna’s eyes were wide, but she quickly sat up straight and beamed at Calix. “That’s all you can say,” she repeated, clapping her hands, “Woo!”
“Woo, indeed!” he cheered along with her and pulled her to her feet. The racers were coming around the far bend, the sweat on the horses’ flanks shimmering in the sun. The riders were bearing down, tightly packed, and at top speed. And then, across the other riders, across the cheering crowd, and against all odds, Tyche decided to screw Korinna over at that very moment, and Andreas’s eyes fell directly on her.
The man didn’t just lose control, but completely forgot what he was doing. The horse jolted under his rider’s accidental direction, crashing into the chariot beside it. The crowd fell into screams, as each chariot in turn was caught up in the disaster. Animals broke free, fleeing from the scene, and men were thrown across the arena as chariots splintered into the lower tiers of the crowd. Korinna covered her mouth and fell back.
Calix caught her just before she hit the chair. “My sweet!” he cried out, “What a heinous sight, you must be mortified.”
Korinna could barely acknowledge him, even as the crashing and screaming died away, frozen in shocked horror.
“Still,”—he glanced back at the arena, fallen into absolute shambles—“Good show, eh?”
Chaos! Finally! At least Calix is good for something.
Yes, well, be careful what you wish for.
CHAPTER XX
It isn’t particularly likely that no one would have died from such a catastrophe, but seeing as this is a comedy, that is exactly how things turned out after the chariot race debacle. Yes, it looked pretty ugly for a minute there, and yes, the Moirai did consider cutting a few strings, but in the end we all just kind of decided it would be a lot cleaner to have warriors walking around with bandaged arms and heads for the rest of the time because they’re probably already pretty used to that anyway.
Now that she knew Andreas was on the isle as well, Korinna was on edge, and she was thankful when her presence was not allowed at the formal dinner the two royal families were having that night. She managed to slip away after the race without seeing the soldier and hoped he had hit his head hard enough to completely forget what had caused the whole mess in the first place, but it didn’t seem likely. What did seem likely was bumping into both Andreas and Calix at the same time, and so she strayed as far from the rest of the assembled summit goers as possible. As she walked along the empty beach, her brain rattled with comparisons between the two and how she might choose, the vision of an angry Athena or Hera hiding behind every constructive thought she had.
“You seem troubled,” Nikeros’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“That’s one word for it.” Looking back the way they’d come, she could scarcely see the ship anymore in the orange lights of sunset.
He offered her a smile. This time it wasn’t ridiculously big or overly hopeful, and in fact it was almost as troubled as her own. For a moment, the chaos in her brain quieted. “You know, I’ve been so many places and seen so many things that I forgot what this was all about for a little bit.”
“Oh?” He cocked his head, listening.
“I was just trying to pick which one would be better, and it suddenly occurred to me that the alternative to Andreas and Calix is death.”
Nikeros shifted uncomfortably beside her. “Well, there’s still a third suitor.”
“I know, I know.” She watched her bare feet as they sunk into the white sand. “I just mean, I guess it kind of doesn’t matter if I really like any of them.”
“What?” Nikeros grabbed her arm, holding her in place tightly. “It absolutely does matter!” For a second she almost pitied him, the poor Erote. He was so sincere, and she was really going to mess things up. “My task would not be complete if you did not find your adelphi psychi!”
“Your task.” She frowned and started off again. “Right.”
Nikeros’s steps were quiet behind her, his voice hesitant. “I won’t say you’re doing anything wrong.”
“Then maybe don’t say anything at all.”
“It’s just,”—he cleared his throat—“You may get better results if you, well…”
“If I what?” Korinna turned back to him. “I’ve been waiting for some real help this whole time, you know.”
He rolled his eyes. “Have you considered a grand gesture of passion?”
Korinna balled her fists and slammed them down onto her hips. “Niko, that’s what this whole thing is about, don’t you remember?
All I wanted was to stop being a virgin, but no, you insisted I had to find true love!”
He was quick to wave his hands in front of her face. “No, no, not that. Something a bit more chaste but might help you really feel something for one of them. Something to give you that glow.” She watched as he gesticulated, then gave up with a sigh. “You should kiss one of them.”
Korinna’s breath hitched. No, she hadn’t considered that—she’d been too focused on the other thing—and suddenly she felt her heart flutter at the thought. A kiss. Somehow that was worse.
“What’s wrong?” Dread crossed Nikeros’s face.
“Uh, well?” Korinna twisted the word out as long as it could go. “It’s just I hadn’t thought of that, and—”
“And what?” The demigod crossed his arms. “You’ve never kissed anyone or something?”
She felt her cheeks go red.
His mouth fell open. “Really?” When she gave him a single, succinct nod, he exploded, “Are you serious? All this talk about how you want to rid yourself of your virginity like you’ve been heartbroken a million times and just wanted to get it over with, and the truth is you haven’t even kissed a single person ever?”
“Well!” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “I’ve been busy!”
“Well, shit, so have I, and even I’ve managed to—” His eyes widened then. “Wait, do you know what it actually means to stop being a virgin? Like…” He gestured vaguely to his crotch.
“Oh, gods!” She covered her face. “Of course, I do! Please do not try to give me the swans and the bulls talk.”
“Wow.” Nikeros blew out a long breath and began to pace in front of her. “Okay, you might be more work than I thought.”
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