by Andromeda
Nkechi looked to Philomena. “Please, Mama, please! I wanna go!”
Philomena smiled. “I don’t see why not, but don’t eat too much. Dinner will be done in a couple hours.”
Darius swept Nkechi in his arms and they walked off, though he gave a soft smile to Philomena before they left. She watched them leave, and once again, she felt a bubbling of warmth in her heart. He was trying; he was really trying to prove that he was the right one for her. He had told her over and over again that he wasn’t ever going to let her go, and she wanted him to keep that promise.
As she stood up, she saw Amani walking in the shadows, a cloak pulled over her head. She frowned, and made to follow the girl, but when she rounded the corner, she was gone. This confused her, mainly because she thought that Amani had been reduced to the position of slave; yet, the cloak she saw her in looked to be made of rich fabric. Something was going on; gooseflesh rippled on her skin and she didn’t like that. She knew she had to figure out what was going on, as her instincts told her Amani would be up to nothing good. After all, Darius demoted her from his personal whore to normal slave, and that would rub anyone the wrong way.
That woman held a secret, a secret that Philomena swore to herself that she’d find out.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Philomena gasped, her nails dug into Darius’s shoulders. He gritted his teeth, bouncing her faster and harder upon himself, his hunger strong. His hands gripped her hips, holding her tightly as he pushed himself deeper and deeper into her. Suddenly, he felt it, the tightening in his gut and his strokes became frenzied as he worked to push them both over the edge.
She couldn’t hold back her cry of release. Her head thrown back as her body shuddered, her inner walls pulling him deeply into her. He roared, his face buried in her breasts; his hands cupped her back to hold her securely as he poured into her. Both of them panted heavily; sweat dripped frown their brows, and yet when they pulled away, they smiled at each other.
“Once again…that just keeps getting better and better,” he said with a grin, gently laying her back on the pillows before he withdrew from her body.
“I’d be lying if I said otherwise,” she said shyly, closing her legs.
Darius pulled the covers over their bodies and pulled her to rest on his chest. “Good, it would hurt my pride as a man to find out otherwise.”
She chuckled softly. “Well, I’m sorry for you to think that. Our time together has been….”
“Passionate?” he finished for her.
“Yes…you could say that,” she said, smiling shyly. “But Darius, I have to ask you something.”
“Yes?” he asked. “What is it?”
“Amani…do you know what she’s been up to since she’s come back here?” she asked.
Darius tilted his head. “Amani? No, no I don’t. I haven’t seen or even heard from her personally since we got here. I’ve been too…preoccupied…” he smirked at her in meaning.
She blushed again and laughed softly. “Yes, I understand that. But you are sure you haven’t been with her? I’m asking not out of jealousy, but she seems too…busy. I thought she was doing work for you…”
Darius shook his head. “No, like I said, I haven’t really seen her since we got here. This is just as confusing to me, as it is to you. But I promise you this: I haven’t slept with her.”
She smiled. “I know that. You are with me almost every day, and in this bed, every night; you don’t have time to be with anyone else.”
He chuckled and kissed her neck. “You make that sound as if that’s a bad thing…”
“Well, I never said that,” she said with a smile, blushing.
“Good,” he said, his kisses becoming more urgent as his hunger grew again. “Because I want you right now…”
*******
Dorian looked at Amani; the young woman had her head bowed as she nervously wrung her hands together. It was late in the night, and he knew that Darius and Philomena would be in bed together; the idea infuriated him. He didn’t know why she wouldn’t fall in love with him, as he had tried over and over, but she was immune, it seemed, to his charms.
“What is it?” he barked to Amani, knowing that there was a reason for her being in his chambers at this time of night.
He had hired her as his inner spy in the Persian court a long time ago. Just like his father, he promised her what he knew she would want: to be queen. He promised her that if they worked together, he would make her Queen of Persia, and of course, she accepted. Women were so easy to fool.
“The Spartan woman,” Amani said nervously. “She…she is…”
“What?” he snapped, growing ever more irritated by her simmering nature. “What is wrong with her?”
“I think…she might be with child,” she said softly.
Dorian sat up; his eyes wide as he took this in. “Explain yourself. What do you mean you think she is with child?”
“I…I have one of the maids in my pay,” she said slowly. “And she has told me that there hasn’t been blood on the woman’s sheets for a while now.”
Dorian frowned and stroked his chin. Darius and his Persians had been in the kingdom for almost four months now, and from his spies, he knew that the Persian King frequented Philomena’s bed.
“This changes everything…” he said slowly. “This…I will have to think on this…”
“What do we do?” Amani asked. “Should I…put the paste on her goblet again?”
“No,” Darius said. “Don’t; it would arouse suspicion. Does she know?”
“I doubt it, my lord,” Amani said. “But I know she will figure it out soon…and what will we do then?”
“We will have to move the event up,” he said, getting in order to begin to write the orders. “The Queen’s mother is hosting a festival within a months’ time; we can use that event for our own purposes.” He handed her several stacks of papers. “Give this to our allies and make sure only they see what is written on them. Am I understood?”
“Yes, my lord,” Amani said, her hands closed around the papers and she hurried off.
She knew that what she was doing was wrong, that it was treason, and yet, she needed to do this. Dorian had promised that he would make her the Queen of Persia, and she knew how powerful he was; there was no way that she could say no to him. She needed to become queen; she deserved it a lot better than that Spartan woman named Philomena.
Truthfully, she had nothing against Philomena, she just didn’t believe that she was worthy of all that’d been given to her. Unlike Philomena, Amani had to work all her life; everything wasn’t handed to her on a silver platter. She wasn’t going to let some prissy princess take what she believed was her right. She didn’t care who she had to step over in order to get what she wanted.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Festival of the Olympians was the most popular festival in all the Greek kingdoms. During this time, everyone was considered equal—king, peasant, priest; they were all the same under the eyes of the gods. Philomena was excited, as the festival always ended with a large masquerade ball when the gates of the palace were opened and everyone was let inside. Of course, the inner rooms were bolted shut, but the main courtyard, banquet hall and gardens were all opened for the people to come inside.
Philomena pulled on her mask, as she was going as a tree nymph, and under her shimmering green gown, her hand rested on her slightly rounded stomach. Inside, she carried Darius’s child, though she was still slightly confused on how to feel about this.
On one hand, she felt like a whore, having lain with Darius almost instantly since he came back; and on the other hand, she felt happy that she had another child growing inside her.
“Abeeku…” she whispered. “My love, if you can hear me…please give me a sign…that I am doing the right thing…”
She couldn’t help but wonder what he would think knowing she was with child by Darius; yet strangely…she knew that he wouldn’t be angry with her. As a matter of f
act, she had a feeling that he would be happy, maybe even satisfied that the two of them had finally set aside their differences.
Darius had completely won her over. In these few short months, he had become a role model to her daughter, and had proved time and time again that he was a good king. All of this made her feel something that she hadn’t ever felt towards him before: love.
She loved him. She couldn’t deny it anymore. She loved him, but was nervous about what he would say if she told him. A knock on her door made her turn around and walk to it; when she opened it, she found Dorian standing there.
“Oh,” she said in shock. “Dorian…can I…” she stopped when she saw him reach his hand out, only it wasn’t empty, he had a dagger in it. She took a step back, her hand on her belly. “What are you doing?”
“You’re coming with me,” he said sharply. “Do not disobey me, unless you want your child to come to harm.”
Philomena swallowed, she didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t a warrior like her mother; she was a scholar. If she was Zenobia, all she had to do was punch him in the right place, and he’d stop like a dead deer, but she wasn’t Zenobia. She was Philomena and she was scared.
“A…Alright…” she said softly. “L…Lead the way…”
*******
Darius walked the gardens, looking for Philomena. He wore the costume of a satyr after he heard that she was going as a nymph. Yet, he couldn’t find her. He had searched all over the palace and couldn’t find her. A strange feeling tugged at his gut, and he walked to the stables, thinking that maybe she was there to check up on a horse that had been said was going to foal soon. When he neared it, he stopped dead in his tracks.
He saw Dorian, Amani, and several men dressed in black; they were ushering Philomena into a carriage, though it was clear that she wasn’t going willingly. She was kicking, trying to fight, but in the end, one of the men bound her hands behind her back and shoved her inside.
Darius didn’t know who he was most angry at: Dorian, who pretended to be his friend, or Amani, who pretended to love him. Now he saw them for what they truly were, and they were kidnapping Philomena… Why confused him as he had no idea, but he knew that he wasn’t going to let them take her. Slowly, he melted into the shadows, knowing what he must do.
“Why are you doing this?” Philomena asked Dorian as the carriage took off. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you! Don’t hurt my baby.”
“I would never hurt you,” Dorian said. “But I have to take my throne.”
“Your throne?” Philomena repeated. “That is what this is about?”
“It’s about a lot of things,” he said. “And right now, it’s about us. For years, I’ve been planning this moment, a moment when I could become King of Sparta; I am doing what my father couldn’t do.”
“Your father was insane!” Philomena snapped.
Dorian glared at her. “That is your opinion, but the throne of Sparta is my birthright, and in less than twenty minutes, it will all be mine.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“At this moment, thousands of people are eating and drinking, but what they do not know is that their food and drink are poisoned,” he explained.
The blood drained from Philomena’s face. She thought of her mother, her sister, her brothers…all her friends and extended family…her daughter. “You would kill innocent people?!”
“No one is innocent in their world,” he said, his eyes twitching slightly. “But history is written by the winners and in less than twenty minutes, the world will know that it was I, Dorian, who eliminated the false royal family and started a new dynasty!”
“What about me?” she asked bitterly. “I am still alive!”
“I need you,” he said, a smile formed on his lips. “To be my queen…”
The air was sucked from Philomena’s lungs. When she didn’t say a thing, Dorian continued.
“I’ve loved you since we were children; you were the only one who was kind to me…and for that, I will be eternally grateful…”
He reached out and caressed her arm; she shrank back and wrapped her arm around her belly in complete shock. He couldn’t mean that, and yet…she looked into his eyes and saw the crazed look within them; he meant it.
“W-Where are you taking me?” she finally asked.
“We are just taking a ride around the park,” Dorian said with a joyful smile on his lips. “Afterwards, we will return to the palace and see my great work. Until then, might I offer you a platter of cheese and bread?”
*******
Those were the longest twenty minutes of Philomena’s life, yet she knew she had to survive this. She had to get through this for her child, for the sake of her people and her family; if she wasn’t, then she would lose them all this single night.
Dorian returned to the courtyard and helped her out of the carriage, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. The air was quiet; the only sound was the trickling water in the water fountains. Slowly, they walked to the dining room where everyone must have been gathered. Once inside, she gasped, and let out a blood-curdling scream that filled the chamber. They were all dead.
Everyone was sprawled out in heaps, their heads thrown back as blood trickled out of the corner of their mouths. Her mother, her brothers, her sister, her family friends…everyone that she had known was dead.
“No! No! No! Mama!” she yelled, rushing to Zenobia. “Mama…”
She pressed her forehead to hers, tears streamed down her cheeks as she cradled her mother’s head in her arms.
“You’re a monster…” she whispered to Dorian. “Where is my daughter?”
“She’s safe,” Dorian said, waving his hand dismissively. “Now, come on, we must go.”
“No!” Philomena said. “Do not touch me!”
Dorian frowned and pulled his hand back. When she turned to face him, he slapped her hard across the cheeks. “I don’t have time for this!” he roared at her. “Get up and get in the carriage! We have to leave!”
Another feeling that Philomena hadn’t felt before bubbled within her: rage. Slowly, she lifted her head and looked at Dorian, standing to her feet. Her green eyes glimmered with an unchallenged rage that he had never seen before; the sight frightened him. It frightened him so that he took a step back; he had never seen Philomena angry before.
“You dare lay a hand on me?” Philomena spat. “You dare lay your hands on the Queen of Sparta?! I will have your hands cut off and placed into a jar of vinegar! You think you are strong, you think that the throne is your birthright? Do not make me laugh. The right to rule is something that you are born with; you can’t make it. I have that right, which is a lot more than I can say for you. You had better hope that my daughter is unharmed; you had better hope that I find it in my heart to forgive you. Because if not, then there isn’t a word for what I’m going to do to you! I might not be a warrior like my mother, but I know enough about combat to kill you!”
“That won’t be needed, Mena,” a voice said behind them.
Everyone turned and watched with wide eyes as Darius emerged from behind the curtains that draped the thrones. In his arms was Nkechi, who looked at Philomena with wide eyes.
“Darius…” Philomena whispered softly.
“You…” Dorian said through gritted teeth. “Why…how are you not dead?”
“Do you really think that I’d let you get away with kidnapping Sparta’s Queen and trying to murder all she held dear?” Darius asked, slowly walking down the dais. “Do you think we would all let that happen?”
“We?” Dorian repeated with a laugh. “You are talking like a madman. You are alone here; my guards hold the palace!”
“That is where you are wrong,” another voice said.
Everyone watched with wide eyes as Zenobia stood up slowly, followed by the rest of the court. Dorian drew his sword, his eyes frantic as he took a step back; shock all over his face.
“H…How…?” he stammered.
“You
really need to be careful with who you trust your plans with,” Srax said with a smirk. “We have known what you have been up to for months.”
Dorian took another step back, holding his sword in front of him. “I…I still hold the palace! T…That throne is mine!”
“You mean you held the palace,” Matthias corrected him. “But thanks to my brother-in-law, we have dissolved that threat.”
Dorian looked around; he was caught. All his years of planning and he was caught; he had lost. No, no, not if he had anything to say about it. He looked at Nkechi in Darius’s arms, a stool at the dais, and he smirked; he could still win this. Taking a knife from his belt, he threw it at Darius. The man moved quickly, but he tripped over the stool and dropped Nkechi. Dorian moved quickly, snatching the girl and placing his sword at her throat.
“NO!” Philomena yelled. “Please…Please don’t kill her…”
“I won’t harm her,” Dorian said. “As soon as I get safe conduct out of the palace. I don’t want anyone following me.”
Everyone was frozen, though Philomena looked at Dorian and held her hands up.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said. “But please…if you are going to take her…then please take me too…I can’t lose her. She’s my only reminder of her father.”
Dorian rolled his eyes. “Abeeku was a lustful fool; that was why I had him eliminated.”
The air in the room grew thick at this revelation, and Philomena swallowed the lump in her throat. “W…What?” she whispered.
“It wasn’t hard, truthfully,” Dorian said. “And I only needed him to prove that you were fertile. You have proved it, just like you are with child now.”
Darius froze. “W…What?” he whispered.
Philomena ignored him, but she looked to Dorian. “I will go with you willingly,” she said.
Slowly, she moved to them and put his hand on the sword. Their eyes locked, and Dorian loosened his grip slightly as he was always transfixed by her eyes. This proved to be his downfall. Using a trick that Matthias taught her, she grabbed the sword tightly. A hand shoved Nkechi out of the way, while she turned the sword around and pierced him in the stomach. Dorian gasped, feeling the cold metal grow warm with his blood.