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He replayed the moment over and over in his head. He had been an idiot, had gone way beyond what he should have done. He knew better-- even with his conversation with Fotios, he still knew that he was playing with fire by putting himself in her path like that. Gestures like the one he did were far too much for a sister and a brother. They were no longer lovers, and he shouldn’t have done something so… romantic. He should have known better, should have thought about it before he planned it.
But when he closed her eyes, he saw her face. He saw the utter joy on her face when she realized what it was, the disbelief that he’d actually done this for her. He heard her gasps, so similar to the ones that would escape her lips when she was under him, and couldn’t help to harden in response. His need for her was so strong, his love for her so painful, that he had to do something to dull the ache.
Kissing her hadn’t helped like he thought it would.
As soon as she pulled away, her words reminded him that they were not lovers. There had been little between them now, as their roles should have been that of family. His brother trusted him to protect his wife, to keep her safe and to keep the kingdom in one piece. His brother had left for war, thinking that both his wife and brother would be on friendly terms only, nothing more than that. Instead, he was kissing her, remembering a time when she only belonged to him.
As soon as he returned to the palati, they parted ways. He spent hours with advisors, focused on time at the archery range, evaluating the additions to the walls around the kingdom. They avoided each other-- he ate his meals in his private rooms to give her space. He thought of writing a letter to apologize, but it felt just as wrong as the kiss was.
He was not sorry for the action. The kiss had been perfect, had felt like the first right thing in his life. What he was sorry for was the position he put her in, for making her feel as if she couldn’t trust him. It was something he would never tell his brother about, unable to handle the betrayal. He was angry at himself for getting them in this position in the first place.
He should have never gone to Fotios’s office that day.
It was late, days after the kiss. The pair had kept their separate paths, and all Emilios could do was hope to hear word from the servants on how she was doing. It was late, the evening meal long gone. Over a glass of wine, he was in the middle of a bath, eyes closed to try and relax. The frantic knock on his door almost went unheard, as focused as he was. Pausing a moment, he stood, wrapping a sheet around himself and opening the door to find no one there. Looking down, he spotted the note, the hurried script in a hand he would have recognized anywhere.
And he immediately frowned.
As he picked up the letter, he found himself even more perplexed. What had she found? Was there something else happening? He didn’t bother to dry his hair, quickly pulling on a pair of pants and a loose shirt over his head. As he entered the stables, it was impossible not to notice that her horse was gone. As quick as he could, he saddled his own mount, taking off with as much speed as he could muster.
He didn’t want to think that anything had happened to her.
He didn’t want to think that something had happened to his brother.
He knew the way well, having spent weeks building up the place for her, sometimes under moonlight only. It did not take him very long to get there-- a fire burning in the small pit he had created within the structure. It was fresh, but she must have started it to keep off the chill-- for that he was glad. He tied his horse next to hers, stepping into the small house, worry all over his face.
“Theo, what’s wrong? What happened?” His put his arms on her shoulders, assessing her for any possibly injuries.
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He replayed the moment over and over in his head. He had been an idiot, had gone way beyond what he should have done. He knew better-- even with his conversation with Fotios, he still knew that he was playing with fire by putting himself in her path like that. Gestures like the one he did were far too much for a sister and a brother. They were no longer lovers, and he shouldn’t have done something so… romantic. He should have known better, should have thought about it before he planned it.
But when he closed her eyes, he saw her face. He saw the utter joy on her face when she realized what it was, the disbelief that he’d actually done this for her. He heard her gasps, so similar to the ones that would escape her lips when she was under him, and couldn’t help to harden in response. His need for her was so strong, his love for her so painful, that he had to do something to dull the ache.
Kissing her hadn’t helped like he thought it would.
As soon as she pulled away, her words reminded him that they were not lovers. There had been little between them now, as their roles should have been that of family. His brother trusted him to protect his wife, to keep her safe and to keep the kingdom in one piece. His brother had left for war, thinking that both his wife and brother would be on friendly terms only, nothing more than that. Instead, he was kissing her, remembering a time when she only belonged to him.
As soon as he returned to the palati, they parted ways. He spent hours with advisors, focused on time at the archery range, evaluating the additions to the walls around the kingdom. They avoided each other-- he ate his meals in his private rooms to give her space. He thought of writing a letter to apologize, but it felt just as wrong as the kiss was.
He was not sorry for the action. The kiss had been perfect, had felt like the first right thing in his life. What he was sorry for was the position he put her in, for making her feel as if she couldn’t trust him. It was something he would never tell his brother about, unable to handle the betrayal. He was angry at himself for getting them in this position in the first place.
He should have never gone to Fotios’s office that day.
It was late, days after the kiss. The pair had kept their separate paths, and all Emilios could do was hope to hear word from the servants on how she was doing. It was late, the evening meal long gone. Over a glass of wine, he was in the middle of a bath, eyes closed to try and relax. The frantic knock on his door almost went unheard, as focused as he was. Pausing a moment, he stood, wrapping a sheet around himself and opening the door to find no one there. Looking down, he spotted the note, the hurried script in a hand he would have recognized anywhere.
And he immediately frowned.
As he picked up the letter, he found himself even more perplexed. What had she found? Was there something else happening? He didn’t bother to dry his hair, quickly pulling on a pair of pants and a loose shirt over his head. As he entered the stables, it was impossible not to notice that her horse was gone. As quick as he could, he saddled his own mount, taking off with as much speed as he could muster.
He didn’t want to think that anything had happened to her.
He didn’t want to think that something had happened to his brother.
He knew the way well, having spent weeks building up the place for her, sometimes under moonlight only. It did not take him very long to get there-- a fire burning in the small pit he had created within the structure. It was fresh, but she must have started it to keep off the chill-- for that he was glad. He tied his horse next to hers, stepping into the small house, worry all over his face.
“Theo, what’s wrong? What happened?” His put his arms on her shoulders, assessing her for any possibly injuries.
He replayed the moment over and over in his head. He had been an idiot, had gone way beyond what he should have done. He knew better-- even with his conversation with Fotios, he still knew that he was playing with fire by putting himself in her path like that. Gestures like the one he did were far too much for a sister and a brother. They were no longer lovers, and he shouldn’t have done something so… romantic. He should have known better, should have thought about it before he planned it.
But when he closed her eyes, he saw her face. He saw the utter joy on her face when she realized what it was, the disbelief that he’d actually done this for her. He heard her gasps, so similar to the ones that would escape her lips when she was under him, and couldn’t help to harden in response. His need for her was so strong, his love for her so painful, that he had to do something to dull the ache.
Kissing her hadn’t helped like he thought it would.
As soon as she pulled away, her words reminded him that they were not lovers. There had been little between them now, as their roles should have been that of family. His brother trusted him to protect his wife, to keep her safe and to keep the kingdom in one piece. His brother had left for war, thinking that both his wife and brother would be on friendly terms only, nothing more than that. Instead, he was kissing her, remembering a time when she only belonged to him.
As soon as he returned to the palati, they parted ways. He spent hours with advisors, focused on time at the archery range, evaluating the additions to the walls around the kingdom. They avoided each other-- he ate his meals in his private rooms to give her space. He thought of writing a letter to apologize, but it felt just as wrong as the kiss was.
He was not sorry for the action. The kiss had been perfect, had felt like the first right thing in his life. What he was sorry for was the position he put her in, for making her feel as if she couldn’t trust him. It was something he would never tell his brother about, unable to handle the betrayal. He was angry at himself for getting them in this position in the first place.
He should have never gone to Fotios’s office that day.
It was late, days after the kiss. The pair had kept their separate paths, and all Emilios could do was hope to hear word from the servants on how she was doing. It was late, the evening meal long gone. Over a glass of wine, he was in the middle of a bath, eyes closed to try and relax. The frantic knock on his door almost went unheard, as focused as he was. Pausing a moment, he stood, wrapping a sheet around himself and opening the door to find no one there. Looking down, he spotted the note, the hurried script in a hand he would have recognized anywhere.
And he immediately frowned.
As he picked up the letter, he found himself even more perplexed. What had she found? Was there something else happening? He didn’t bother to dry his hair, quickly pulling on a pair of pants and a loose shirt over his head. As he entered the stables, it was impossible not to notice that her horse was gone. As quick as he could, he saddled his own mount, taking off with as much speed as he could muster.
He didn’t want to think that anything had happened to her.
He didn’t want to think that something had happened to his brother.
He knew the way well, having spent weeks building up the place for her, sometimes under moonlight only. It did not take him very long to get there-- a fire burning in the small pit he had created within the structure. It was fresh, but she must have started it to keep off the chill-- for that he was glad. He tied his horse next to hers, stepping into the small house, worry all over his face.
“Theo, what’s wrong? What happened?” His put his arms on her shoulders, assessing her for any possibly injuries.
It didn’t take long for Theodora to reach her destination, the mile or so to the little hut in the woods falling away beneath the pounding beat of Calista’s hooves. Her mind was filled with a chaotic riot of emotion, guilt and fury battling each other for dominance. The queen didn’t quite know what to make of what she had found in her husband’s study, and she did not know exactly what clarity Emilios could provide. But gods damn it all, she was tired of hiding. Tired of pretending. They had spent the past several months tiptoeing around each other, shoving away what they felt as they struggled to come to terms with their new reality. Whatever else happened tonight, she knew they needed to deal with all of this, to lay everything out that they had been suppressing. Especially after their last meeting, when so much bubbled to the surface…
Her mare was panting by the time they arrived, Theo sliding off her back with an apologetic pat to her neck. “You can have a dozen carrots when we return, I promise,” she whispered to the dappled horse, pressing her head against Calista’s before tying her off and loosening the girth of her saddle. The mare let out a breath of relief with a soft knicker, Theo patting her once more before slipping inside.
The dark maroon of her cloak was stark against the paleness of her skin where she pulled it tighter, shivering slightly in the crisp air of the fall evening. If they were to remain here any length of time, this cold wouldn’t do. Stepping back outside, she gathered an armload of deadwood and arranged it in the little carved out pit a few paces from the hand-hewn table. Grabbing flint and stone from one of Calista’s saddlebags, she grabbed up another armful of leaf litter, spreading it between the wood. Striking the flint against the stone until sparks gathered, the leaf litter quickly ignited and spread to the wood while Theo stepped back and nodded in satisfaction. Much better.
Crackling firelight illuminated her haggard features, her face streaked with dried tears. Her hair was disheveled from her ride, and the amber chiton she wore was not much better, but the queen cared little for her appearance at that moment. With everything running through her head, it hardly seemed the greatest of her worries.
A wineskin was tugged from the saddle bag, as well, Theo dragging both of the chairs over to the fire, claiming one of them for her own, and uncorking the container. Taking a few long swallows, she sighed and stared into the fire with a haunted look settling on her face. No matter what she did now, no matter what decision she made as she went forward, there was someone she was going to hurt, even if it was only herself. Her choices should have been made long ago, and yet after that morning in the woods a few days ago…
Nearby rustling had her looking toward the door, Emilios rushing inside with worry written all through his expression. Rising to her feet, she walked over to him, her own face reflecting a mixture of anxiety and relief. She hadn’t expected him to arrive so soon, and he looked nearly as disheveled as she did. Realizing how urgent her note must have sounded, she immediately felt bad for the look of intense concern he turned on her.
“I’m sorry, I’m all right,” she was quick to reassure him, reaching to cover his hands with her own. “Well, I’m not… all right, exactly, but… oh, you know what I mean.” Shaking her head, she bit her lip and pulled urged him toward the chairs, reclaiming her own and gesturing for him to take the other. Glancing at his sodden hair, she frowned and looked back outside. “Is it raining…?” Had she really been so caught up in herself that she hadn’t noticed?
Shaking her head, she looked back at him. “I… I was doing a lot of thinking today, and I… went into Achilleas’s study. I thought merely to gain a sense of him, to… I don’t know what I was thinking, really, but when I was in there, I found this.” Pulling the note from ‘Damo’ free from the pocket she’d hid it in, she handed it over to Emilios. “Read it, and tell me what you think. I need to know if… if anyone else knew about this.”
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It didn’t take long for Theodora to reach her destination, the mile or so to the little hut in the woods falling away beneath the pounding beat of Calista’s hooves. Her mind was filled with a chaotic riot of emotion, guilt and fury battling each other for dominance. The queen didn’t quite know what to make of what she had found in her husband’s study, and she did not know exactly what clarity Emilios could provide. But gods damn it all, she was tired of hiding. Tired of pretending. They had spent the past several months tiptoeing around each other, shoving away what they felt as they struggled to come to terms with their new reality. Whatever else happened tonight, she knew they needed to deal with all of this, to lay everything out that they had been suppressing. Especially after their last meeting, when so much bubbled to the surface…
Her mare was panting by the time they arrived, Theo sliding off her back with an apologetic pat to her neck. “You can have a dozen carrots when we return, I promise,” she whispered to the dappled horse, pressing her head against Calista’s before tying her off and loosening the girth of her saddle. The mare let out a breath of relief with a soft knicker, Theo patting her once more before slipping inside.
The dark maroon of her cloak was stark against the paleness of her skin where she pulled it tighter, shivering slightly in the crisp air of the fall evening. If they were to remain here any length of time, this cold wouldn’t do. Stepping back outside, she gathered an armload of deadwood and arranged it in the little carved out pit a few paces from the hand-hewn table. Grabbing flint and stone from one of Calista’s saddlebags, she grabbed up another armful of leaf litter, spreading it between the wood. Striking the flint against the stone until sparks gathered, the leaf litter quickly ignited and spread to the wood while Theo stepped back and nodded in satisfaction. Much better.
Crackling firelight illuminated her haggard features, her face streaked with dried tears. Her hair was disheveled from her ride, and the amber chiton she wore was not much better, but the queen cared little for her appearance at that moment. With everything running through her head, it hardly seemed the greatest of her worries.
A wineskin was tugged from the saddle bag, as well, Theo dragging both of the chairs over to the fire, claiming one of them for her own, and uncorking the container. Taking a few long swallows, she sighed and stared into the fire with a haunted look settling on her face. No matter what she did now, no matter what decision she made as she went forward, there was someone she was going to hurt, even if it was only herself. Her choices should have been made long ago, and yet after that morning in the woods a few days ago…
Nearby rustling had her looking toward the door, Emilios rushing inside with worry written all through his expression. Rising to her feet, she walked over to him, her own face reflecting a mixture of anxiety and relief. She hadn’t expected him to arrive so soon, and he looked nearly as disheveled as she did. Realizing how urgent her note must have sounded, she immediately felt bad for the look of intense concern he turned on her.
“I’m sorry, I’m all right,” she was quick to reassure him, reaching to cover his hands with her own. “Well, I’m not… all right, exactly, but… oh, you know what I mean.” Shaking her head, she bit her lip and pulled urged him toward the chairs, reclaiming her own and gesturing for him to take the other. Glancing at his sodden hair, she frowned and looked back outside. “Is it raining…?” Had she really been so caught up in herself that she hadn’t noticed?
Shaking her head, she looked back at him. “I… I was doing a lot of thinking today, and I… went into Achilleas’s study. I thought merely to gain a sense of him, to… I don’t know what I was thinking, really, but when I was in there, I found this.” Pulling the note from ‘Damo’ free from the pocket she’d hid it in, she handed it over to Emilios. “Read it, and tell me what you think. I need to know if… if anyone else knew about this.”
It didn’t take long for Theodora to reach her destination, the mile or so to the little hut in the woods falling away beneath the pounding beat of Calista’s hooves. Her mind was filled with a chaotic riot of emotion, guilt and fury battling each other for dominance. The queen didn’t quite know what to make of what she had found in her husband’s study, and she did not know exactly what clarity Emilios could provide. But gods damn it all, she was tired of hiding. Tired of pretending. They had spent the past several months tiptoeing around each other, shoving away what they felt as they struggled to come to terms with their new reality. Whatever else happened tonight, she knew they needed to deal with all of this, to lay everything out that they had been suppressing. Especially after their last meeting, when so much bubbled to the surface…
Her mare was panting by the time they arrived, Theo sliding off her back with an apologetic pat to her neck. “You can have a dozen carrots when we return, I promise,” she whispered to the dappled horse, pressing her head against Calista’s before tying her off and loosening the girth of her saddle. The mare let out a breath of relief with a soft knicker, Theo patting her once more before slipping inside.
The dark maroon of her cloak was stark against the paleness of her skin where she pulled it tighter, shivering slightly in the crisp air of the fall evening. If they were to remain here any length of time, this cold wouldn’t do. Stepping back outside, she gathered an armload of deadwood and arranged it in the little carved out pit a few paces from the hand-hewn table. Grabbing flint and stone from one of Calista’s saddlebags, she grabbed up another armful of leaf litter, spreading it between the wood. Striking the flint against the stone until sparks gathered, the leaf litter quickly ignited and spread to the wood while Theo stepped back and nodded in satisfaction. Much better.
Crackling firelight illuminated her haggard features, her face streaked with dried tears. Her hair was disheveled from her ride, and the amber chiton she wore was not much better, but the queen cared little for her appearance at that moment. With everything running through her head, it hardly seemed the greatest of her worries.
A wineskin was tugged from the saddle bag, as well, Theo dragging both of the chairs over to the fire, claiming one of them for her own, and uncorking the container. Taking a few long swallows, she sighed and stared into the fire with a haunted look settling on her face. No matter what she did now, no matter what decision she made as she went forward, there was someone she was going to hurt, even if it was only herself. Her choices should have been made long ago, and yet after that morning in the woods a few days ago…
Nearby rustling had her looking toward the door, Emilios rushing inside with worry written all through his expression. Rising to her feet, she walked over to him, her own face reflecting a mixture of anxiety and relief. She hadn’t expected him to arrive so soon, and he looked nearly as disheveled as she did. Realizing how urgent her note must have sounded, she immediately felt bad for the look of intense concern he turned on her.
“I’m sorry, I’m all right,” she was quick to reassure him, reaching to cover his hands with her own. “Well, I’m not… all right, exactly, but… oh, you know what I mean.” Shaking her head, she bit her lip and pulled urged him toward the chairs, reclaiming her own and gesturing for him to take the other. Glancing at his sodden hair, she frowned and looked back outside. “Is it raining…?” Had she really been so caught up in herself that she hadn’t noticed?
Shaking her head, she looked back at him. “I… I was doing a lot of thinking today, and I… went into Achilleas’s study. I thought merely to gain a sense of him, to… I don’t know what I was thinking, really, but when I was in there, I found this.” Pulling the note from ‘Damo’ free from the pocket she’d hid it in, she handed it over to Emilios. “Read it, and tell me what you think. I need to know if… if anyone else knew about this.”
His heart was racing, but he was not wholly certain as to the cause. Was it because he had been so certain something more than just her needing him? Was it because he had thought that she’d gotten horrible news that she needed to share? Or was it because she had simply asked for him, needed his support in whatever the emergency was? Seeing that she was safe, that nothing was physically wrong with her put his mind at ease a bit. But it didn’t change the fact that something was bothering her enough to request him now.
His hands ran down her arms, as if doing one final check on her persons to make sure she was not lying to him before he let her step back. “You shared the shit out of me, Theo.” He said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he followed her into the opposite seat. He accepted her apology, glad she at least realized how it must have sounded, how frantic he had ridden to get to her in case something was seriously wrong.
His brow furrowed as soon as she said she wasn’t alright. He wanted to ask more, to find out just what happened so he could do his best to fix it. Instead, she directed his attention to the fact that his hair was still wet from his bath. His hand moved back up to his hair, head shaking, “Your note found me in the bath-- I was too worried to finish drying off. I thought…” he decided not to worry her about exactly what he’d been worried about, what he’d thought may have happened.
There was no reason to have her thinking that he’d thought Achilleas may have been dead.
Pushing down the crippling ache that such possible news has caused, he instead focused on her. She looked overwhelmed by whatever had her concerned, working into a tizzy with her worry. Her cheeks were rosy, from what he assumed was consumption of wine to help with whatever was bothering her. She pulled out a letter, handing it to him. He felt conflicted, knowing that whatever letter had been found had been one his brother most likely hadn’t meant to be read by him.
His brother could have his secrets with Emilios knowing everything. Still, if it was enough to concern her, he took it and looked closer. The letter was in a masculine hand, which was not all at surprising-- his brother was a military man like he, so it would be commonplace.
Opening it up, it was the simple salutation that made him pause, words repeated out loud, even when he didn’t mean for them to. ”Dearest Achi?” He glanced up at Theo, flipping back to the front to try and date the letter. It was addressed to King Achilleas, which meant it was recent. His eyebrow raised at her, wondering exactly what this letter held. He read the letter, eyes wide at the obvious statements of affection that his brother seemed to accept from this… Damo. “No.” He said, diving back into the letter to read it closer.
“I never pictured my brother as a sentimental man, and yet, this… Damo seemed to paint him in a different light.” He said, placing the letter on the table once he finished reading it. “Why would he keep it?” He asked openly. After all, Theo had been his best friend before all of this happened-- he refused to think of her as otherwise as they were both blindsighted by this news. “The man must still mean something to him-- regardless of a history, I would have thrown such an incriminating piece of correspondence into the fires. Much can be ruined with a letter like that.” He blinked, his heart aching for her. “Theo… it speaks of a relationship in the past. And if the timeline is as I believe, it would have been long before anything else between you and he.” Gods, was he defending his brother?
“I did not realize that my brother held any lover-like affection for anyone outside of his old maid. And he ended that, too.” He said offhandedly, as if he expected her to already be aware of this.
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His heart was racing, but he was not wholly certain as to the cause. Was it because he had been so certain something more than just her needing him? Was it because he had thought that she’d gotten horrible news that she needed to share? Or was it because she had simply asked for him, needed his support in whatever the emergency was? Seeing that she was safe, that nothing was physically wrong with her put his mind at ease a bit. But it didn’t change the fact that something was bothering her enough to request him now.
His hands ran down her arms, as if doing one final check on her persons to make sure she was not lying to him before he let her step back. “You shared the shit out of me, Theo.” He said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he followed her into the opposite seat. He accepted her apology, glad she at least realized how it must have sounded, how frantic he had ridden to get to her in case something was seriously wrong.
His brow furrowed as soon as she said she wasn’t alright. He wanted to ask more, to find out just what happened so he could do his best to fix it. Instead, she directed his attention to the fact that his hair was still wet from his bath. His hand moved back up to his hair, head shaking, “Your note found me in the bath-- I was too worried to finish drying off. I thought…” he decided not to worry her about exactly what he’d been worried about, what he’d thought may have happened.
There was no reason to have her thinking that he’d thought Achilleas may have been dead.
Pushing down the crippling ache that such possible news has caused, he instead focused on her. She looked overwhelmed by whatever had her concerned, working into a tizzy with her worry. Her cheeks were rosy, from what he assumed was consumption of wine to help with whatever was bothering her. She pulled out a letter, handing it to him. He felt conflicted, knowing that whatever letter had been found had been one his brother most likely hadn’t meant to be read by him.
His brother could have his secrets with Emilios knowing everything. Still, if it was enough to concern her, he took it and looked closer. The letter was in a masculine hand, which was not all at surprising-- his brother was a military man like he, so it would be commonplace.
Opening it up, it was the simple salutation that made him pause, words repeated out loud, even when he didn’t mean for them to. ”Dearest Achi?” He glanced up at Theo, flipping back to the front to try and date the letter. It was addressed to King Achilleas, which meant it was recent. His eyebrow raised at her, wondering exactly what this letter held. He read the letter, eyes wide at the obvious statements of affection that his brother seemed to accept from this… Damo. “No.” He said, diving back into the letter to read it closer.
“I never pictured my brother as a sentimental man, and yet, this… Damo seemed to paint him in a different light.” He said, placing the letter on the table once he finished reading it. “Why would he keep it?” He asked openly. After all, Theo had been his best friend before all of this happened-- he refused to think of her as otherwise as they were both blindsighted by this news. “The man must still mean something to him-- regardless of a history, I would have thrown such an incriminating piece of correspondence into the fires. Much can be ruined with a letter like that.” He blinked, his heart aching for her. “Theo… it speaks of a relationship in the past. And if the timeline is as I believe, it would have been long before anything else between you and he.” Gods, was he defending his brother?
“I did not realize that my brother held any lover-like affection for anyone outside of his old maid. And he ended that, too.” He said offhandedly, as if he expected her to already be aware of this.
His heart was racing, but he was not wholly certain as to the cause. Was it because he had been so certain something more than just her needing him? Was it because he had thought that she’d gotten horrible news that she needed to share? Or was it because she had simply asked for him, needed his support in whatever the emergency was? Seeing that she was safe, that nothing was physically wrong with her put his mind at ease a bit. But it didn’t change the fact that something was bothering her enough to request him now.
His hands ran down her arms, as if doing one final check on her persons to make sure she was not lying to him before he let her step back. “You shared the shit out of me, Theo.” He said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he followed her into the opposite seat. He accepted her apology, glad she at least realized how it must have sounded, how frantic he had ridden to get to her in case something was seriously wrong.
His brow furrowed as soon as she said she wasn’t alright. He wanted to ask more, to find out just what happened so he could do his best to fix it. Instead, she directed his attention to the fact that his hair was still wet from his bath. His hand moved back up to his hair, head shaking, “Your note found me in the bath-- I was too worried to finish drying off. I thought…” he decided not to worry her about exactly what he’d been worried about, what he’d thought may have happened.
There was no reason to have her thinking that he’d thought Achilleas may have been dead.
Pushing down the crippling ache that such possible news has caused, he instead focused on her. She looked overwhelmed by whatever had her concerned, working into a tizzy with her worry. Her cheeks were rosy, from what he assumed was consumption of wine to help with whatever was bothering her. She pulled out a letter, handing it to him. He felt conflicted, knowing that whatever letter had been found had been one his brother most likely hadn’t meant to be read by him.
His brother could have his secrets with Emilios knowing everything. Still, if it was enough to concern her, he took it and looked closer. The letter was in a masculine hand, which was not all at surprising-- his brother was a military man like he, so it would be commonplace.
Opening it up, it was the simple salutation that made him pause, words repeated out loud, even when he didn’t mean for them to. ”Dearest Achi?” He glanced up at Theo, flipping back to the front to try and date the letter. It was addressed to King Achilleas, which meant it was recent. His eyebrow raised at her, wondering exactly what this letter held. He read the letter, eyes wide at the obvious statements of affection that his brother seemed to accept from this… Damo. “No.” He said, diving back into the letter to read it closer.
“I never pictured my brother as a sentimental man, and yet, this… Damo seemed to paint him in a different light.” He said, placing the letter on the table once he finished reading it. “Why would he keep it?” He asked openly. After all, Theo had been his best friend before all of this happened-- he refused to think of her as otherwise as they were both blindsighted by this news. “The man must still mean something to him-- regardless of a history, I would have thrown such an incriminating piece of correspondence into the fires. Much can be ruined with a letter like that.” He blinked, his heart aching for her. “Theo… it speaks of a relationship in the past. And if the timeline is as I believe, it would have been long before anything else between you and he.” Gods, was he defending his brother?
“I did not realize that my brother held any lover-like affection for anyone outside of his old maid. And he ended that, too.” He said offhandedly, as if he expected her to already be aware of this.
Theodora’s eyes hungrily watched Emilios’s face as he read the letter, desperately needing someone else to confirm what she’d found, or to tell her she was just being crazy so she could just forget about it and move on. When he at last gave his verdict, she was… disappointed, almost. While she didn’t want to think her husband was having an affair, if he was, well… maybe she wouldn’t have to feel so bad. Maybe she would have some justification for what she’d done, for what she felt. After all, it didn’t matter if they were both doing it, right?
But no, that was crazy. She should be glad that this seemed to be something in the past, that Achilleas was true to her. They were married, and maybe when everything settled down, they could even be happy. There wouldn’t be much happiness to be found if others shared their beds in the interim.
She tried to bolster herself with his declaration, nodding absently as she stared at the correspondence on the table. Well. Apparently, her guilt must remain, then. “Are you sure, though? What if they reconnect during this war… what if that’s why he kept it?” Brows drawing together, she looked back toward Emilios, grasping at straws in a seemingly fruitless effort to assuage her own conscience. “Maybe there’s still something there. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t part with it.” Just as she couldn’t part with the things Emilios gave her. “What if he wrote back in the same way? What if…” She trailed off, her questions sounding empty and guilty even to her own ears.
However, his offhand comment made her freeze, her gaze narrowing. I did not realize that my brother held any lover-like affection for anyone outside of his old maid. And he ended that, too. Thinking back to that night in the Mikaelidas archontiko, the first night she had lain with Achilleas, there was a maid there… a pretty blonde, the same one who had waited on them when she had come for dinner before the wedding. Briseis, she thought she remembered her being called, and as Emilios spoke, she remembered the suspicions she’d had at the time. The way Briseis looked at Achilleas, the way she had treated Theo… there was something there, something she hadn’t commented on out loud, but had suspected all the same. Was that who Emilios referred to now?
The way she looked at Emilios made it obvious that Achilleas had not informed her of this, the man unknowingly confirming a suspicion she had written off and not thought about since. “Is that so?” she muttered, a muscle in her jaw twitching as her gaze hardened. “What was her name, perchance?”
Coming here expecting to confirm one indiscretion only to be faced with another, Theodora was floundering between guilt and anger. So many emotions felt so rapidly in succession… Swiping up the wineskin again, she took a deep swallow to try to calm her fluttering nerves. Belatedly offering it to Emilios, as well, her free hand swept over her face in a gesture of bottled up frustration.
What was she even supposed to think any more? What was truth, and what were lies? And what was she supposed to do about any of it?
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Theodora’s eyes hungrily watched Emilios’s face as he read the letter, desperately needing someone else to confirm what she’d found, or to tell her she was just being crazy so she could just forget about it and move on. When he at last gave his verdict, she was… disappointed, almost. While she didn’t want to think her husband was having an affair, if he was, well… maybe she wouldn’t have to feel so bad. Maybe she would have some justification for what she’d done, for what she felt. After all, it didn’t matter if they were both doing it, right?
But no, that was crazy. She should be glad that this seemed to be something in the past, that Achilleas was true to her. They were married, and maybe when everything settled down, they could even be happy. There wouldn’t be much happiness to be found if others shared their beds in the interim.
She tried to bolster herself with his declaration, nodding absently as she stared at the correspondence on the table. Well. Apparently, her guilt must remain, then. “Are you sure, though? What if they reconnect during this war… what if that’s why he kept it?” Brows drawing together, she looked back toward Emilios, grasping at straws in a seemingly fruitless effort to assuage her own conscience. “Maybe there’s still something there. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t part with it.” Just as she couldn’t part with the things Emilios gave her. “What if he wrote back in the same way? What if…” She trailed off, her questions sounding empty and guilty even to her own ears.
However, his offhand comment made her freeze, her gaze narrowing. I did not realize that my brother held any lover-like affection for anyone outside of his old maid. And he ended that, too. Thinking back to that night in the Mikaelidas archontiko, the first night she had lain with Achilleas, there was a maid there… a pretty blonde, the same one who had waited on them when she had come for dinner before the wedding. Briseis, she thought she remembered her being called, and as Emilios spoke, she remembered the suspicions she’d had at the time. The way Briseis looked at Achilleas, the way she had treated Theo… there was something there, something she hadn’t commented on out loud, but had suspected all the same. Was that who Emilios referred to now?
The way she looked at Emilios made it obvious that Achilleas had not informed her of this, the man unknowingly confirming a suspicion she had written off and not thought about since. “Is that so?” she muttered, a muscle in her jaw twitching as her gaze hardened. “What was her name, perchance?”
Coming here expecting to confirm one indiscretion only to be faced with another, Theodora was floundering between guilt and anger. So many emotions felt so rapidly in succession… Swiping up the wineskin again, she took a deep swallow to try to calm her fluttering nerves. Belatedly offering it to Emilios, as well, her free hand swept over her face in a gesture of bottled up frustration.
What was she even supposed to think any more? What was truth, and what were lies? And what was she supposed to do about any of it?
Theodora’s eyes hungrily watched Emilios’s face as he read the letter, desperately needing someone else to confirm what she’d found, or to tell her she was just being crazy so she could just forget about it and move on. When he at last gave his verdict, she was… disappointed, almost. While she didn’t want to think her husband was having an affair, if he was, well… maybe she wouldn’t have to feel so bad. Maybe she would have some justification for what she’d done, for what she felt. After all, it didn’t matter if they were both doing it, right?
But no, that was crazy. She should be glad that this seemed to be something in the past, that Achilleas was true to her. They were married, and maybe when everything settled down, they could even be happy. There wouldn’t be much happiness to be found if others shared their beds in the interim.
She tried to bolster herself with his declaration, nodding absently as she stared at the correspondence on the table. Well. Apparently, her guilt must remain, then. “Are you sure, though? What if they reconnect during this war… what if that’s why he kept it?” Brows drawing together, she looked back toward Emilios, grasping at straws in a seemingly fruitless effort to assuage her own conscience. “Maybe there’s still something there. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t part with it.” Just as she couldn’t part with the things Emilios gave her. “What if he wrote back in the same way? What if…” She trailed off, her questions sounding empty and guilty even to her own ears.
However, his offhand comment made her freeze, her gaze narrowing. I did not realize that my brother held any lover-like affection for anyone outside of his old maid. And he ended that, too. Thinking back to that night in the Mikaelidas archontiko, the first night she had lain with Achilleas, there was a maid there… a pretty blonde, the same one who had waited on them when she had come for dinner before the wedding. Briseis, she thought she remembered her being called, and as Emilios spoke, she remembered the suspicions she’d had at the time. The way Briseis looked at Achilleas, the way she had treated Theo… there was something there, something she hadn’t commented on out loud, but had suspected all the same. Was that who Emilios referred to now?
The way she looked at Emilios made it obvious that Achilleas had not informed her of this, the man unknowingly confirming a suspicion she had written off and not thought about since. “Is that so?” she muttered, a muscle in her jaw twitching as her gaze hardened. “What was her name, perchance?”
Coming here expecting to confirm one indiscretion only to be faced with another, Theodora was floundering between guilt and anger. So many emotions felt so rapidly in succession… Swiping up the wineskin again, she took a deep swallow to try to calm her fluttering nerves. Belatedly offering it to Emilios, as well, her free hand swept over her face in a gesture of bottled up frustration.
What was she even supposed to think any more? What was truth, and what were lies? And what was she supposed to do about any of it?
The more he thought about it, the more he started to wonder just how long it had been going on. Could it have been since before he'd been gone, too? Achilleas had taken off before he had, his battalion focused on a more strategic plan as an archery unit closer to the front. Had he noticed a change? Could he look back and pinpoint a difference in the man he had always idolized?
It wasn't firm in his mind, but he had always chalked up the change to what he saw in war. Maybe it was more a newfound appreciation for a lover? Or a newfound sense of self? A better understanding of the man he wanted to be? Whatever it was, he knew that something subtle had happened, and now it seemed to make sense.
It wasn't as if it was uncommon for men to seek the comforts of each other during war. Emilios never had, but he had always been able to find a woman to keep him warm in nearby towns. Or he waited until they were close to one. He personally didn't think less of those that did, but he was a romantic at heart. He couldn't blame those who needed to feel something when death was so close by, but he had never imagined that his brother would need it. But he was wrong.
Things started to make sense-- perhaps his awkwardness around woman was due to his sexuality. Maybe he didn't like the idea of being around woman because he didn't feel attracted to them. Perhaps he had always felt this way but hid it because of who he was. Maybe his indifference in his nuptials were because he didn't want to be married but knew he has to.
His mind was racing, so much that he took the offered drink from Theo, downing a large amount to try and clear his head. “We are trying to make assumptions based on a letter. A letter he may have kept for a number of reasons. And while they may have been lovers, i do not think his focus will be to rekindle anything of the past.” Another swig, as of trying to convince himself, too. “My brother has always been a private person. I do not know if he has a preference-- do you believe he cares for you? Has he given you any other reasons to doubt?”
Perhaps he wanted a reason to feel better, a reason to make her feel better. If he could have a reassurance that his brother did not love Theo, perhaps he would not feel so guilty for how powerful his own emotions were.
“Briseis” He said, hoping to put her mind at ease. “She has been moved to another house, so you need not worry about her.” Did that make it better? He moved his chair closer to her, taking her seemingly aggitated hands into his own. “Theo, he would be a fool to continue anything like that. He should consider himself lucky to have you. I would give anything to be in his place, to have you and only you.” His hand raised, brushing a curl behind her ear before resting on her cheek. “The Gods have given him the most precious gift in the world. If he cannot see that…” he trailed, hoping that she knew where he was going with his statement.
’Then he doesn't deserve you.
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The more he thought about it, the more he started to wonder just how long it had been going on. Could it have been since before he'd been gone, too? Achilleas had taken off before he had, his battalion focused on a more strategic plan as an archery unit closer to the front. Had he noticed a change? Could he look back and pinpoint a difference in the man he had always idolized?
It wasn't firm in his mind, but he had always chalked up the change to what he saw in war. Maybe it was more a newfound appreciation for a lover? Or a newfound sense of self? A better understanding of the man he wanted to be? Whatever it was, he knew that something subtle had happened, and now it seemed to make sense.
It wasn't as if it was uncommon for men to seek the comforts of each other during war. Emilios never had, but he had always been able to find a woman to keep him warm in nearby towns. Or he waited until they were close to one. He personally didn't think less of those that did, but he was a romantic at heart. He couldn't blame those who needed to feel something when death was so close by, but he had never imagined that his brother would need it. But he was wrong.
Things started to make sense-- perhaps his awkwardness around woman was due to his sexuality. Maybe he didn't like the idea of being around woman because he didn't feel attracted to them. Perhaps he had always felt this way but hid it because of who he was. Maybe his indifference in his nuptials were because he didn't want to be married but knew he has to.
His mind was racing, so much that he took the offered drink from Theo, downing a large amount to try and clear his head. “We are trying to make assumptions based on a letter. A letter he may have kept for a number of reasons. And while they may have been lovers, i do not think his focus will be to rekindle anything of the past.” Another swig, as of trying to convince himself, too. “My brother has always been a private person. I do not know if he has a preference-- do you believe he cares for you? Has he given you any other reasons to doubt?”
Perhaps he wanted a reason to feel better, a reason to make her feel better. If he could have a reassurance that his brother did not love Theo, perhaps he would not feel so guilty for how powerful his own emotions were.
“Briseis” He said, hoping to put her mind at ease. “She has been moved to another house, so you need not worry about her.” Did that make it better? He moved his chair closer to her, taking her seemingly aggitated hands into his own. “Theo, he would be a fool to continue anything like that. He should consider himself lucky to have you. I would give anything to be in his place, to have you and only you.” His hand raised, brushing a curl behind her ear before resting on her cheek. “The Gods have given him the most precious gift in the world. If he cannot see that…” he trailed, hoping that she knew where he was going with his statement.
’Then he doesn't deserve you.
The more he thought about it, the more he started to wonder just how long it had been going on. Could it have been since before he'd been gone, too? Achilleas had taken off before he had, his battalion focused on a more strategic plan as an archery unit closer to the front. Had he noticed a change? Could he look back and pinpoint a difference in the man he had always idolized?
It wasn't firm in his mind, but he had always chalked up the change to what he saw in war. Maybe it was more a newfound appreciation for a lover? Or a newfound sense of self? A better understanding of the man he wanted to be? Whatever it was, he knew that something subtle had happened, and now it seemed to make sense.
It wasn't as if it was uncommon for men to seek the comforts of each other during war. Emilios never had, but he had always been able to find a woman to keep him warm in nearby towns. Or he waited until they were close to one. He personally didn't think less of those that did, but he was a romantic at heart. He couldn't blame those who needed to feel something when death was so close by, but he had never imagined that his brother would need it. But he was wrong.
Things started to make sense-- perhaps his awkwardness around woman was due to his sexuality. Maybe he didn't like the idea of being around woman because he didn't feel attracted to them. Perhaps he had always felt this way but hid it because of who he was. Maybe his indifference in his nuptials were because he didn't want to be married but knew he has to.
His mind was racing, so much that he took the offered drink from Theo, downing a large amount to try and clear his head. “We are trying to make assumptions based on a letter. A letter he may have kept for a number of reasons. And while they may have been lovers, i do not think his focus will be to rekindle anything of the past.” Another swig, as of trying to convince himself, too. “My brother has always been a private person. I do not know if he has a preference-- do you believe he cares for you? Has he given you any other reasons to doubt?”
Perhaps he wanted a reason to feel better, a reason to make her feel better. If he could have a reassurance that his brother did not love Theo, perhaps he would not feel so guilty for how powerful his own emotions were.
“Briseis” He said, hoping to put her mind at ease. “She has been moved to another house, so you need not worry about her.” Did that make it better? He moved his chair closer to her, taking her seemingly aggitated hands into his own. “Theo, he would be a fool to continue anything like that. He should consider himself lucky to have you. I would give anything to be in his place, to have you and only you.” His hand raised, brushing a curl behind her ear before resting on her cheek. “The Gods have given him the most precious gift in the world. If he cannot see that…” he trailed, hoping that she knew where he was going with his statement.
’Then he doesn't deserve you.
His tone turned somewhat uncertain as hers did, and Theodora wondered if he, like her, was trying to justify what it was they had done. Maybe that was the real reason she had asked him to join her here. To know that she wasn’t alone. To know that morning plagued him as it did her.
Do you believe he cares for you? Has he given you any other reasons to doubt?
The questions caught her off guard, and the Queen opened her mouth to answer, only to close it again when no words came. Did she believe he cared for her? She thought he did, even if he wasn’t a passionate man like Emilios, though it could just be the dutiful ‘care’ a husband was meant to show for his wife. There had been no declarations of love between them, but he had not been cruel or unkind to her, either. Just… distant, though she had written that off to the unfortunate circumstances that seemed to plague them at every turn.
There was that night in the baths, the night he couldn’t finish, but even as angry and confused as she was, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Emilios about that. She had given him enough reason tonight to look at his brother askance; she did not need to humiliate Achilleas on top of it.
“I… I don’t know,” she finally said, rather unhelpfully. “I don’t think he… dislikes me, but… Achilleas is not an easy man to read. If he does have a preference for men, it would… it would explain things.” The uneasy way he’d been around her, the distance he kept from her, their awkward collisions in the past, maybe that was all due to a preference he wasn’t willing to share. But, it could be explained by so many other things too…
Gods, but why had she even gone in the study that night? Perhaps it would have been better to continue on in ignorance, to resolutely hold onto that spark she thought she shared with her husband, rather than look for cause to doubt. This exchange was only confusing her further, the queen feeling like she had reached for a lifeline, only to be swept further out to sea.
Briseis.
Well, at least she had that confirmation, her eyes flashing in anger. “Moving to another house doesn’t mean anything,” she pointed out bitterly, remembering those longing looks the maid had sent after Achilleas. What if he always came to bed so late because he lingered elsewhere, not because of the responsibilities he claimed? But no, that was crazy, wasn’t it? She was being irrational, she knew she was. She couldn’t try to claim he preferred the other sex, while also simultaneously worrying he went to another woman…
Why did all of this have to be so gods-damned difficult?!
His hands on hers interrupted her train of thought, looking up from her lap to meet his gaze where it rested on hers. A lock of hair brushed from her face, his touch made her heart ache, leaning into the hand at her cheek in spite of herself. I would give anything to be in his place, to have you and only you. The ache in her heart deepened, reaching up to cover his hand. The Gods have given him the most precious gift in the world. If he cannot see that…
Had Achilleas ever said anything like that to her? He was quick to compliment her, yes, but he did not possess the romantic soul his brother did. And as determined as she was to be the dutiful wife she had sworn to be, she could not help the softening of her features, the welling of tears in her eyes at the gentle tone of his voice. What cruel twist of fate had made it so he wasn’t in Achilleas’s place? What had gone so wrong? It was precisely where he was meant to be, and when they sat like this, in the place that should have been theirs, and the life they should have shared lingering just out of reach…
“I would give anything for you to be in his place,” she said in a broken whisper, forbidden words spilling from her lips before she could stop them. Ever since that morning he had brought her here, she had been consumed by thoughts of him. It was like a dam had broken, and the feeble shields she put up to hold the water back no longer did their job. Defenses shattered, all she wanted was to take him in her arms, to whisper in his ears all the things she couldn’t say, all the things she wanted to say, to beg his forgiveness for her broken promises…
Closing her eyes, she tried to fall silent once more, but once it started, she couldn’t stop herself. “It should have been you,” she went on, pressing his hand tighter to her face. “I thought I could do this, I thought I was strong enough, but…”
Her eyes opened again, deep brown holding blue, the muted crackle of the fire the only sound in the little hut. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Emilios. Especially since that morning, when we kissed, I…” She swallowed hard, biting her lip as her eyes flicked down to his. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was never supposed to be like this.”
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His tone turned somewhat uncertain as hers did, and Theodora wondered if he, like her, was trying to justify what it was they had done. Maybe that was the real reason she had asked him to join her here. To know that she wasn’t alone. To know that morning plagued him as it did her.
Do you believe he cares for you? Has he given you any other reasons to doubt?
The questions caught her off guard, and the Queen opened her mouth to answer, only to close it again when no words came. Did she believe he cared for her? She thought he did, even if he wasn’t a passionate man like Emilios, though it could just be the dutiful ‘care’ a husband was meant to show for his wife. There had been no declarations of love between them, but he had not been cruel or unkind to her, either. Just… distant, though she had written that off to the unfortunate circumstances that seemed to plague them at every turn.
There was that night in the baths, the night he couldn’t finish, but even as angry and confused as she was, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Emilios about that. She had given him enough reason tonight to look at his brother askance; she did not need to humiliate Achilleas on top of it.
“I… I don’t know,” she finally said, rather unhelpfully. “I don’t think he… dislikes me, but… Achilleas is not an easy man to read. If he does have a preference for men, it would… it would explain things.” The uneasy way he’d been around her, the distance he kept from her, their awkward collisions in the past, maybe that was all due to a preference he wasn’t willing to share. But, it could be explained by so many other things too…
Gods, but why had she even gone in the study that night? Perhaps it would have been better to continue on in ignorance, to resolutely hold onto that spark she thought she shared with her husband, rather than look for cause to doubt. This exchange was only confusing her further, the queen feeling like she had reached for a lifeline, only to be swept further out to sea.
Briseis.
Well, at least she had that confirmation, her eyes flashing in anger. “Moving to another house doesn’t mean anything,” she pointed out bitterly, remembering those longing looks the maid had sent after Achilleas. What if he always came to bed so late because he lingered elsewhere, not because of the responsibilities he claimed? But no, that was crazy, wasn’t it? She was being irrational, she knew she was. She couldn’t try to claim he preferred the other sex, while also simultaneously worrying he went to another woman…
Why did all of this have to be so gods-damned difficult?!
His hands on hers interrupted her train of thought, looking up from her lap to meet his gaze where it rested on hers. A lock of hair brushed from her face, his touch made her heart ache, leaning into the hand at her cheek in spite of herself. I would give anything to be in his place, to have you and only you. The ache in her heart deepened, reaching up to cover his hand. The Gods have given him the most precious gift in the world. If he cannot see that…
Had Achilleas ever said anything like that to her? He was quick to compliment her, yes, but he did not possess the romantic soul his brother did. And as determined as she was to be the dutiful wife she had sworn to be, she could not help the softening of her features, the welling of tears in her eyes at the gentle tone of his voice. What cruel twist of fate had made it so he wasn’t in Achilleas’s place? What had gone so wrong? It was precisely where he was meant to be, and when they sat like this, in the place that should have been theirs, and the life they should have shared lingering just out of reach…
“I would give anything for you to be in his place,” she said in a broken whisper, forbidden words spilling from her lips before she could stop them. Ever since that morning he had brought her here, she had been consumed by thoughts of him. It was like a dam had broken, and the feeble shields she put up to hold the water back no longer did their job. Defenses shattered, all she wanted was to take him in her arms, to whisper in his ears all the things she couldn’t say, all the things she wanted to say, to beg his forgiveness for her broken promises…
Closing her eyes, she tried to fall silent once more, but once it started, she couldn’t stop herself. “It should have been you,” she went on, pressing his hand tighter to her face. “I thought I could do this, I thought I was strong enough, but…”
Her eyes opened again, deep brown holding blue, the muted crackle of the fire the only sound in the little hut. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Emilios. Especially since that morning, when we kissed, I…” She swallowed hard, biting her lip as her eyes flicked down to his. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was never supposed to be like this.”
His tone turned somewhat uncertain as hers did, and Theodora wondered if he, like her, was trying to justify what it was they had done. Maybe that was the real reason she had asked him to join her here. To know that she wasn’t alone. To know that morning plagued him as it did her.
Do you believe he cares for you? Has he given you any other reasons to doubt?
The questions caught her off guard, and the Queen opened her mouth to answer, only to close it again when no words came. Did she believe he cared for her? She thought he did, even if he wasn’t a passionate man like Emilios, though it could just be the dutiful ‘care’ a husband was meant to show for his wife. There had been no declarations of love between them, but he had not been cruel or unkind to her, either. Just… distant, though she had written that off to the unfortunate circumstances that seemed to plague them at every turn.
There was that night in the baths, the night he couldn’t finish, but even as angry and confused as she was, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Emilios about that. She had given him enough reason tonight to look at his brother askance; she did not need to humiliate Achilleas on top of it.
“I… I don’t know,” she finally said, rather unhelpfully. “I don’t think he… dislikes me, but… Achilleas is not an easy man to read. If he does have a preference for men, it would… it would explain things.” The uneasy way he’d been around her, the distance he kept from her, their awkward collisions in the past, maybe that was all due to a preference he wasn’t willing to share. But, it could be explained by so many other things too…
Gods, but why had she even gone in the study that night? Perhaps it would have been better to continue on in ignorance, to resolutely hold onto that spark she thought she shared with her husband, rather than look for cause to doubt. This exchange was only confusing her further, the queen feeling like she had reached for a lifeline, only to be swept further out to sea.
Briseis.
Well, at least she had that confirmation, her eyes flashing in anger. “Moving to another house doesn’t mean anything,” she pointed out bitterly, remembering those longing looks the maid had sent after Achilleas. What if he always came to bed so late because he lingered elsewhere, not because of the responsibilities he claimed? But no, that was crazy, wasn’t it? She was being irrational, she knew she was. She couldn’t try to claim he preferred the other sex, while also simultaneously worrying he went to another woman…
Why did all of this have to be so gods-damned difficult?!
His hands on hers interrupted her train of thought, looking up from her lap to meet his gaze where it rested on hers. A lock of hair brushed from her face, his touch made her heart ache, leaning into the hand at her cheek in spite of herself. I would give anything to be in his place, to have you and only you. The ache in her heart deepened, reaching up to cover his hand. The Gods have given him the most precious gift in the world. If he cannot see that…
Had Achilleas ever said anything like that to her? He was quick to compliment her, yes, but he did not possess the romantic soul his brother did. And as determined as she was to be the dutiful wife she had sworn to be, she could not help the softening of her features, the welling of tears in her eyes at the gentle tone of his voice. What cruel twist of fate had made it so he wasn’t in Achilleas’s place? What had gone so wrong? It was precisely where he was meant to be, and when they sat like this, in the place that should have been theirs, and the life they should have shared lingering just out of reach…
“I would give anything for you to be in his place,” she said in a broken whisper, forbidden words spilling from her lips before she could stop them. Ever since that morning he had brought her here, she had been consumed by thoughts of him. It was like a dam had broken, and the feeble shields she put up to hold the water back no longer did their job. Defenses shattered, all she wanted was to take him in her arms, to whisper in his ears all the things she couldn’t say, all the things she wanted to say, to beg his forgiveness for her broken promises…
Closing her eyes, she tried to fall silent once more, but once it started, she couldn’t stop herself. “It should have been you,” she went on, pressing his hand tighter to her face. “I thought I could do this, I thought I was strong enough, but…”
Her eyes opened again, deep brown holding blue, the muted crackle of the fire the only sound in the little hut. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Emilios. Especially since that morning, when we kissed, I…” She swallowed hard, biting her lip as her eyes flicked down to his. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was never supposed to be like this.”
There should have been no desire in his heart for his sister-in-law to seem unhappy in her marriage, or to have any doubts in her mind as to her husband’s feelings towards her. As much as Emilios wants her, he had spent the past year wanting her, he did wish his brother happy, too. After all, why would he want the man miserable? He loved his brother, even if at times it felt like he would only ever be second best. With all the competition, there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted this marriage to work.
Yet staring at the letter, the masculine formed script so plainly put in front of him, he couldn’t help but think that maybe the marriage was making him miserable. Did he long for this man, the one who offered advice and praise of both a lover and a friend? Was the idea of being married to Theodora enough to drive him into another man’s arms? He didn’t want to think that to be the case, and his only evidence of that was the letter in his hands.
His eyes fell on Theo, on how this must have looked to her. He could tell by the way her name was uttered that the Queen may have suspected something about the maid that he just confirmed. Guilt washed over him, knowing that it was never his intention to sew the seed of doubt in her mind even more. But even Emilios had wondered why the man had felt so concerned over the mind of a simple maid.
The King shouldn’t have thought twice about sending her off, and yet he wanted more for the girl. She carried his affections, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
The guilt continued to wash over him, knowing that this felt like he was falling right into the hands of Fotios and his promise. He had been determined to call it off, to tell the man to do what he must. And now, watching Theo struggling with her own emotions, he knew that he couldn’t just leave her as he wanted to. He couldn’t just pretend that his own emotions weren’t begging him for a moment of truth. So he told her that he would have loved no other, hoping that she would see that his brother would eventually do the same.
But it simply solidified her own growing doubt, and he didn’t make an effort to correct her. His hand came to her face, thumbs brushing away the tears with her confession. He would have given his very soul to have what his brother had gotten, and the mounting tension between the former lovers grew. To hear that she still wanted him, to know that the kiss had been just as impossible to ignore for her as it had for him made him ache with need.
“Theo…” He said, pulling her to her feet as he stood. His arms moved around her waist, holding her close enough that he could smell the faint scent of her floral perfume. “I have always been your servant. From that first moment, I have been yours. I laid myself at your feet then, and I do the same now.” He leaned his forehead into her, “The Gods do not care. Our parents did not seem to care. Promises were broken by them, not by us.” His hand moved back to her face, one still holding her close on the swell of her hip. “I am yours to command. If you wish for me to go, I shall. If you wish for me to stay, I will not leave until you command it.”
His smile to her was one saved only for her, with a serious upturn of one corner and a sparkle in his eyes. “This choice? You and I? That’s always been in your hands. Say the word, and we end it. But you must know that my heart has never belonged to another-- it is yours alone. I have worshipped you from the moment you let me.” Still, he didn’t make his move, knowing that they would both have to live with the decisions of this night.
“For whatever you choose, Theo, I am with you. Now and always.”
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There should have been no desire in his heart for his sister-in-law to seem unhappy in her marriage, or to have any doubts in her mind as to her husband’s feelings towards her. As much as Emilios wants her, he had spent the past year wanting her, he did wish his brother happy, too. After all, why would he want the man miserable? He loved his brother, even if at times it felt like he would only ever be second best. With all the competition, there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted this marriage to work.
Yet staring at the letter, the masculine formed script so plainly put in front of him, he couldn’t help but think that maybe the marriage was making him miserable. Did he long for this man, the one who offered advice and praise of both a lover and a friend? Was the idea of being married to Theodora enough to drive him into another man’s arms? He didn’t want to think that to be the case, and his only evidence of that was the letter in his hands.
His eyes fell on Theo, on how this must have looked to her. He could tell by the way her name was uttered that the Queen may have suspected something about the maid that he just confirmed. Guilt washed over him, knowing that it was never his intention to sew the seed of doubt in her mind even more. But even Emilios had wondered why the man had felt so concerned over the mind of a simple maid.
The King shouldn’t have thought twice about sending her off, and yet he wanted more for the girl. She carried his affections, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
The guilt continued to wash over him, knowing that this felt like he was falling right into the hands of Fotios and his promise. He had been determined to call it off, to tell the man to do what he must. And now, watching Theo struggling with her own emotions, he knew that he couldn’t just leave her as he wanted to. He couldn’t just pretend that his own emotions weren’t begging him for a moment of truth. So he told her that he would have loved no other, hoping that she would see that his brother would eventually do the same.
But it simply solidified her own growing doubt, and he didn’t make an effort to correct her. His hand came to her face, thumbs brushing away the tears with her confession. He would have given his very soul to have what his brother had gotten, and the mounting tension between the former lovers grew. To hear that she still wanted him, to know that the kiss had been just as impossible to ignore for her as it had for him made him ache with need.
“Theo…” He said, pulling her to her feet as he stood. His arms moved around her waist, holding her close enough that he could smell the faint scent of her floral perfume. “I have always been your servant. From that first moment, I have been yours. I laid myself at your feet then, and I do the same now.” He leaned his forehead into her, “The Gods do not care. Our parents did not seem to care. Promises were broken by them, not by us.” His hand moved back to her face, one still holding her close on the swell of her hip. “I am yours to command. If you wish for me to go, I shall. If you wish for me to stay, I will not leave until you command it.”
His smile to her was one saved only for her, with a serious upturn of one corner and a sparkle in his eyes. “This choice? You and I? That’s always been in your hands. Say the word, and we end it. But you must know that my heart has never belonged to another-- it is yours alone. I have worshipped you from the moment you let me.” Still, he didn’t make his move, knowing that they would both have to live with the decisions of this night.
“For whatever you choose, Theo, I am with you. Now and always.”
There should have been no desire in his heart for his sister-in-law to seem unhappy in her marriage, or to have any doubts in her mind as to her husband’s feelings towards her. As much as Emilios wants her, he had spent the past year wanting her, he did wish his brother happy, too. After all, why would he want the man miserable? He loved his brother, even if at times it felt like he would only ever be second best. With all the competition, there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted this marriage to work.
Yet staring at the letter, the masculine formed script so plainly put in front of him, he couldn’t help but think that maybe the marriage was making him miserable. Did he long for this man, the one who offered advice and praise of both a lover and a friend? Was the idea of being married to Theodora enough to drive him into another man’s arms? He didn’t want to think that to be the case, and his only evidence of that was the letter in his hands.
His eyes fell on Theo, on how this must have looked to her. He could tell by the way her name was uttered that the Queen may have suspected something about the maid that he just confirmed. Guilt washed over him, knowing that it was never his intention to sew the seed of doubt in her mind even more. But even Emilios had wondered why the man had felt so concerned over the mind of a simple maid.
The King shouldn’t have thought twice about sending her off, and yet he wanted more for the girl. She carried his affections, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
The guilt continued to wash over him, knowing that this felt like he was falling right into the hands of Fotios and his promise. He had been determined to call it off, to tell the man to do what he must. And now, watching Theo struggling with her own emotions, he knew that he couldn’t just leave her as he wanted to. He couldn’t just pretend that his own emotions weren’t begging him for a moment of truth. So he told her that he would have loved no other, hoping that she would see that his brother would eventually do the same.
But it simply solidified her own growing doubt, and he didn’t make an effort to correct her. His hand came to her face, thumbs brushing away the tears with her confession. He would have given his very soul to have what his brother had gotten, and the mounting tension between the former lovers grew. To hear that she still wanted him, to know that the kiss had been just as impossible to ignore for her as it had for him made him ache with need.
“Theo…” He said, pulling her to her feet as he stood. His arms moved around her waist, holding her close enough that he could smell the faint scent of her floral perfume. “I have always been your servant. From that first moment, I have been yours. I laid myself at your feet then, and I do the same now.” He leaned his forehead into her, “The Gods do not care. Our parents did not seem to care. Promises were broken by them, not by us.” His hand moved back to her face, one still holding her close on the swell of her hip. “I am yours to command. If you wish for me to go, I shall. If you wish for me to stay, I will not leave until you command it.”
His smile to her was one saved only for her, with a serious upturn of one corner and a sparkle in his eyes. “This choice? You and I? That’s always been in your hands. Say the word, and we end it. But you must know that my heart has never belonged to another-- it is yours alone. I have worshipped you from the moment you let me.” Still, he didn’t make his move, knowing that they would both have to live with the decisions of this night.
“For whatever you choose, Theo, I am with you. Now and always.”
Perhaps part of her had known what would happen if she brought Emilios here tonight. Perhaps she had only brought the letter as flimsy justification for what she meant to do. Did she really believe that Achilleas lingered across the sea in the arms of another man? Did she really believe herself when she said she did not know if he cared about her? Even if she tried to present half-formed stories as fact, there was a deep part of her, a selfish part that understood what she was doing. As much as she lied aloud, she lied to herself in a desperate bid to ease the sting of her own guilt.
This was wrong. She knew it was wrong. But, admit it or not, she had already made her choice before she even came.
When Emilios pulled her to her feet, wrapped her in his embrace, she knew there was no turning back now. He laid the choice at her feet, just as he had done the first night they were together, and even as she knew she should pull away, should stop this before it went any further… she couldn’t bring herself to move another step.
Her hand reached up to cover his where it held her face, closing her eyes as he spoke the words she so desperately longed to hear. Caught up in the fear of the unknown, the responsibility that bore her down and threatened to cripple her, here was the man she loved, giving her the choice to take back what had always been hers in the first place. Even if it was a decision she would likely come to regret later, Theodora could no longer see past her own desires. She wanted this. Gods, how she wanted this, the stir of desire at his touch igniting with a ferocity she had not known since the last time they had lain together. Before it all fell apart.
She wanted to apologize for everything that lay broken between them, recant her shattered promises, but he took them all before they could form on her lips. The gods had chosen their fates, their vows destroyed at the hands of their families. Her eyes opened again at that, meeting his gaze where it rested so ardently on hers. It was easier to forget what other vows they were breaking by doing this, if it was fated all along. For who could deny the call of destiny?
For whatever you choose, Theo, I am with you. Now and always.
It was her last chance to step away, to make the choice that would pull them from each other’s arms and send her back to her own cold and empty bed.
It was not the choice she made.
There was a moment of silence between them as her lips parted, her gaze hungrily locked on his as her breath slowed to match the pace of his. Two hearts beating in time, two sets of lungs expanding and releasing, their chests moving together in tandem. The world around them fell away in that moment, and Theodora shoved back any remaining doubt. This was home.
Both hands reached to caress his face, thumbs moving along cut cheekbones as she pulled him in closer, her body yearning into his as their lips collided. “I will forever choose you,” were the only words she said, whispered fervently against his mouth before her own captured it again, fingers winding in his hair. Impatient fingers undid the clasp on his cloak, pushing it from his shoulders as she pulled back with a ragged breath. Her decision made, she was not about to waste any more time.
“Love me.” It was a soft plea, but a heartfelt one, firelight reflecting in her gaze where it met his. Her hand moved slowly down his face, stopping to cup the side of his neck. Her lips replaced her fingers as she breathed against his skin, “Stay with me until morning.”
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Perhaps part of her had known what would happen if she brought Emilios here tonight. Perhaps she had only brought the letter as flimsy justification for what she meant to do. Did she really believe that Achilleas lingered across the sea in the arms of another man? Did she really believe herself when she said she did not know if he cared about her? Even if she tried to present half-formed stories as fact, there was a deep part of her, a selfish part that understood what she was doing. As much as she lied aloud, she lied to herself in a desperate bid to ease the sting of her own guilt.
This was wrong. She knew it was wrong. But, admit it or not, she had already made her choice before she even came.
When Emilios pulled her to her feet, wrapped her in his embrace, she knew there was no turning back now. He laid the choice at her feet, just as he had done the first night they were together, and even as she knew she should pull away, should stop this before it went any further… she couldn’t bring herself to move another step.
Her hand reached up to cover his where it held her face, closing her eyes as he spoke the words she so desperately longed to hear. Caught up in the fear of the unknown, the responsibility that bore her down and threatened to cripple her, here was the man she loved, giving her the choice to take back what had always been hers in the first place. Even if it was a decision she would likely come to regret later, Theodora could no longer see past her own desires. She wanted this. Gods, how she wanted this, the stir of desire at his touch igniting with a ferocity she had not known since the last time they had lain together. Before it all fell apart.
She wanted to apologize for everything that lay broken between them, recant her shattered promises, but he took them all before they could form on her lips. The gods had chosen their fates, their vows destroyed at the hands of their families. Her eyes opened again at that, meeting his gaze where it rested so ardently on hers. It was easier to forget what other vows they were breaking by doing this, if it was fated all along. For who could deny the call of destiny?
For whatever you choose, Theo, I am with you. Now and always.
It was her last chance to step away, to make the choice that would pull them from each other’s arms and send her back to her own cold and empty bed.
It was not the choice she made.
There was a moment of silence between them as her lips parted, her gaze hungrily locked on his as her breath slowed to match the pace of his. Two hearts beating in time, two sets of lungs expanding and releasing, their chests moving together in tandem. The world around them fell away in that moment, and Theodora shoved back any remaining doubt. This was home.
Both hands reached to caress his face, thumbs moving along cut cheekbones as she pulled him in closer, her body yearning into his as their lips collided. “I will forever choose you,” were the only words she said, whispered fervently against his mouth before her own captured it again, fingers winding in his hair. Impatient fingers undid the clasp on his cloak, pushing it from his shoulders as she pulled back with a ragged breath. Her decision made, she was not about to waste any more time.
“Love me.” It was a soft plea, but a heartfelt one, firelight reflecting in her gaze where it met his. Her hand moved slowly down his face, stopping to cup the side of his neck. Her lips replaced her fingers as she breathed against his skin, “Stay with me until morning.”
Perhaps part of her had known what would happen if she brought Emilios here tonight. Perhaps she had only brought the letter as flimsy justification for what she meant to do. Did she really believe that Achilleas lingered across the sea in the arms of another man? Did she really believe herself when she said she did not know if he cared about her? Even if she tried to present half-formed stories as fact, there was a deep part of her, a selfish part that understood what she was doing. As much as she lied aloud, she lied to herself in a desperate bid to ease the sting of her own guilt.
This was wrong. She knew it was wrong. But, admit it or not, she had already made her choice before she even came.
When Emilios pulled her to her feet, wrapped her in his embrace, she knew there was no turning back now. He laid the choice at her feet, just as he had done the first night they were together, and even as she knew she should pull away, should stop this before it went any further… she couldn’t bring herself to move another step.
Her hand reached up to cover his where it held her face, closing her eyes as he spoke the words she so desperately longed to hear. Caught up in the fear of the unknown, the responsibility that bore her down and threatened to cripple her, here was the man she loved, giving her the choice to take back what had always been hers in the first place. Even if it was a decision she would likely come to regret later, Theodora could no longer see past her own desires. She wanted this. Gods, how she wanted this, the stir of desire at his touch igniting with a ferocity she had not known since the last time they had lain together. Before it all fell apart.
She wanted to apologize for everything that lay broken between them, recant her shattered promises, but he took them all before they could form on her lips. The gods had chosen their fates, their vows destroyed at the hands of their families. Her eyes opened again at that, meeting his gaze where it rested so ardently on hers. It was easier to forget what other vows they were breaking by doing this, if it was fated all along. For who could deny the call of destiny?
For whatever you choose, Theo, I am with you. Now and always.
It was her last chance to step away, to make the choice that would pull them from each other’s arms and send her back to her own cold and empty bed.
It was not the choice she made.
There was a moment of silence between them as her lips parted, her gaze hungrily locked on his as her breath slowed to match the pace of his. Two hearts beating in time, two sets of lungs expanding and releasing, their chests moving together in tandem. The world around them fell away in that moment, and Theodora shoved back any remaining doubt. This was home.
Both hands reached to caress his face, thumbs moving along cut cheekbones as she pulled him in closer, her body yearning into his as their lips collided. “I will forever choose you,” were the only words she said, whispered fervently against his mouth before her own captured it again, fingers winding in his hair. Impatient fingers undid the clasp on his cloak, pushing it from his shoulders as she pulled back with a ragged breath. Her decision made, she was not about to waste any more time.
“Love me.” It was a soft plea, but a heartfelt one, firelight reflecting in her gaze where it met his. Her hand moved slowly down his face, stopping to cup the side of his neck. Her lips replaced her fingers as she breathed against his skin, “Stay with me until morning.”
Was he simply looking for a reason for this to be okay? It was easy for his mind to take him down a path that made holding her close perfectly acceptable, for him to think that his brother would simply be happy that his wife was not bothering him. If Achilleas did have interest in another, maybe he was simply doing his brother a favor. He truly had no way of knowing, and as wrong as he assumptions felt, he couldn’t deny they were easier to accept than the truth.
That his actions would be the ultimate betrayal.
In his heart of hearts, he knew that walking away was the only reasonable option for him. And he knew that staying here, that making her these promises meant that he was breaking every single one he had made to his brother. And he knew he may regret his actions by staying, by pressing her closing to him.
But he knew he couldn’t chance losing her, of walking away from her when she was desperate to forget whatever emotions she was feeling and to go back to what they were. And damn it if he didn’t want to go back to that place to-- where being with her was the easiest thing in the world. And while he had been worried that something more had happened, meeting in this spot meant they were asking for trouble.
From the beginning, he had set the tone of his absolute respect for her and her own desires. Emilios could have used the heady tones of desires from that first night to push things further than she might have wanted to go. But instead, he wanted her to feel empowered, to know that her body was to be worshiped, not used. No matter how easy it would have been for him to push her into something she might regret, he instead let her decide. So it only made sense, as he waited for her to decide, that this just seemed like the natural way for this to go. Because he wouldn’t lie to her-- whatever she decided, they would be in this together.
If she ended it, he would too.
How could the Gods not see that they were made for each other? That their bodies were so in sync that in the pause of a decision, they had both taken the rhythm of the other? Why did they choose to ignore what he had been so certain they had created in the first place?
Her pledge to him, sealed with a kiss, was the only reassurance he needed. Never would he ask if she was certain, never would he doubt the wants of her own mind. Because he knew he wanted her, knew he needed her-- he wouldn’t dare think that she might not feel the same. As her lips met his, his hands pulled her in tighter, unable to deny the fact that he had been dreaming of the curves of her body for weeks. With the decision made, both consenting to whatever this would be, he felt the familiar heat of anticipation forming in his core.
Gods, he missed her.
Their tongues clashed in joined need, hands impatiently unclasping material. The soft sound of metal onto dirt almost echoed in the room, and he was quick to do the same with her own. He couldn’t keep his hands from tracing the lines of her, each curve suddenly his once more. The marriage had been political.
This was more important than politics.
And with another breath, it shifted. The rushed need to be together was suddenly replaced with a softer desire. Her eyes focused on his, begging him to stay, to love her. And he let the corner of his mouth curve upward. His hand came up to her hair, brushing the dark locks away so he could cup her cheek, too. “Until my last breath.” His other hand stayed on her hip, ensuring that she couldn’t pull away from him at this moment. “I am yours, Theo. I am here. And I will always be.”
He had no one else he’d rather be.
And with that, he claimed her mouth this time, no longer passive in this. He told her he was hers, would support whatever she wished. And now that he knew, he wanted it just as much as she did. Kissing her hard, hands moving about her body as if trying to remember each curve once more, Emilios backed them both towards the ladder leading up to the loft. He pressed her into it, using it to allow himself to fully press himself into her.
His hand slipped into the space between the cloth of her chiton, her back hot against the flesh. And he moaned into her lips, knowing that he needed her.
And that the space in which that would happen was directly above them.
Pulling back, there was a glimmer of mischief in his eye. Without a word, he bent down, wrapping his arms just below her backside. But instead of wrapping her around his torso, he carefully tossed her over his shoulder. His head turned, taking a playful bite of cloth before he began to climb the ladder.
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Was he simply looking for a reason for this to be okay? It was easy for his mind to take him down a path that made holding her close perfectly acceptable, for him to think that his brother would simply be happy that his wife was not bothering him. If Achilleas did have interest in another, maybe he was simply doing his brother a favor. He truly had no way of knowing, and as wrong as he assumptions felt, he couldn’t deny they were easier to accept than the truth.
That his actions would be the ultimate betrayal.
In his heart of hearts, he knew that walking away was the only reasonable option for him. And he knew that staying here, that making her these promises meant that he was breaking every single one he had made to his brother. And he knew he may regret his actions by staying, by pressing her closing to him.
But he knew he couldn’t chance losing her, of walking away from her when she was desperate to forget whatever emotions she was feeling and to go back to what they were. And damn it if he didn’t want to go back to that place to-- where being with her was the easiest thing in the world. And while he had been worried that something more had happened, meeting in this spot meant they were asking for trouble.
From the beginning, he had set the tone of his absolute respect for her and her own desires. Emilios could have used the heady tones of desires from that first night to push things further than she might have wanted to go. But instead, he wanted her to feel empowered, to know that her body was to be worshiped, not used. No matter how easy it would have been for him to push her into something she might regret, he instead let her decide. So it only made sense, as he waited for her to decide, that this just seemed like the natural way for this to go. Because he wouldn’t lie to her-- whatever she decided, they would be in this together.
If she ended it, he would too.
How could the Gods not see that they were made for each other? That their bodies were so in sync that in the pause of a decision, they had both taken the rhythm of the other? Why did they choose to ignore what he had been so certain they had created in the first place?
Her pledge to him, sealed with a kiss, was the only reassurance he needed. Never would he ask if she was certain, never would he doubt the wants of her own mind. Because he knew he wanted her, knew he needed her-- he wouldn’t dare think that she might not feel the same. As her lips met his, his hands pulled her in tighter, unable to deny the fact that he had been dreaming of the curves of her body for weeks. With the decision made, both consenting to whatever this would be, he felt the familiar heat of anticipation forming in his core.
Gods, he missed her.
Their tongues clashed in joined need, hands impatiently unclasping material. The soft sound of metal onto dirt almost echoed in the room, and he was quick to do the same with her own. He couldn’t keep his hands from tracing the lines of her, each curve suddenly his once more. The marriage had been political.
This was more important than politics.
And with another breath, it shifted. The rushed need to be together was suddenly replaced with a softer desire. Her eyes focused on his, begging him to stay, to love her. And he let the corner of his mouth curve upward. His hand came up to her hair, brushing the dark locks away so he could cup her cheek, too. “Until my last breath.” His other hand stayed on her hip, ensuring that she couldn’t pull away from him at this moment. “I am yours, Theo. I am here. And I will always be.”
He had no one else he’d rather be.
And with that, he claimed her mouth this time, no longer passive in this. He told her he was hers, would support whatever she wished. And now that he knew, he wanted it just as much as she did. Kissing her hard, hands moving about her body as if trying to remember each curve once more, Emilios backed them both towards the ladder leading up to the loft. He pressed her into it, using it to allow himself to fully press himself into her.
His hand slipped into the space between the cloth of her chiton, her back hot against the flesh. And he moaned into her lips, knowing that he needed her.
And that the space in which that would happen was directly above them.
Pulling back, there was a glimmer of mischief in his eye. Without a word, he bent down, wrapping his arms just below her backside. But instead of wrapping her around his torso, he carefully tossed her over his shoulder. His head turned, taking a playful bite of cloth before he began to climb the ladder.
Was he simply looking for a reason for this to be okay? It was easy for his mind to take him down a path that made holding her close perfectly acceptable, for him to think that his brother would simply be happy that his wife was not bothering him. If Achilleas did have interest in another, maybe he was simply doing his brother a favor. He truly had no way of knowing, and as wrong as he assumptions felt, he couldn’t deny they were easier to accept than the truth.
That his actions would be the ultimate betrayal.
In his heart of hearts, he knew that walking away was the only reasonable option for him. And he knew that staying here, that making her these promises meant that he was breaking every single one he had made to his brother. And he knew he may regret his actions by staying, by pressing her closing to him.
But he knew he couldn’t chance losing her, of walking away from her when she was desperate to forget whatever emotions she was feeling and to go back to what they were. And damn it if he didn’t want to go back to that place to-- where being with her was the easiest thing in the world. And while he had been worried that something more had happened, meeting in this spot meant they were asking for trouble.
From the beginning, he had set the tone of his absolute respect for her and her own desires. Emilios could have used the heady tones of desires from that first night to push things further than she might have wanted to go. But instead, he wanted her to feel empowered, to know that her body was to be worshiped, not used. No matter how easy it would have been for him to push her into something she might regret, he instead let her decide. So it only made sense, as he waited for her to decide, that this just seemed like the natural way for this to go. Because he wouldn’t lie to her-- whatever she decided, they would be in this together.
If she ended it, he would too.
How could the Gods not see that they were made for each other? That their bodies were so in sync that in the pause of a decision, they had both taken the rhythm of the other? Why did they choose to ignore what he had been so certain they had created in the first place?
Her pledge to him, sealed with a kiss, was the only reassurance he needed. Never would he ask if she was certain, never would he doubt the wants of her own mind. Because he knew he wanted her, knew he needed her-- he wouldn’t dare think that she might not feel the same. As her lips met his, his hands pulled her in tighter, unable to deny the fact that he had been dreaming of the curves of her body for weeks. With the decision made, both consenting to whatever this would be, he felt the familiar heat of anticipation forming in his core.
Gods, he missed her.
Their tongues clashed in joined need, hands impatiently unclasping material. The soft sound of metal onto dirt almost echoed in the room, and he was quick to do the same with her own. He couldn’t keep his hands from tracing the lines of her, each curve suddenly his once more. The marriage had been political.
This was more important than politics.
And with another breath, it shifted. The rushed need to be together was suddenly replaced with a softer desire. Her eyes focused on his, begging him to stay, to love her. And he let the corner of his mouth curve upward. His hand came up to her hair, brushing the dark locks away so he could cup her cheek, too. “Until my last breath.” His other hand stayed on her hip, ensuring that she couldn’t pull away from him at this moment. “I am yours, Theo. I am here. And I will always be.”
He had no one else he’d rather be.
And with that, he claimed her mouth this time, no longer passive in this. He told her he was hers, would support whatever she wished. And now that he knew, he wanted it just as much as she did. Kissing her hard, hands moving about her body as if trying to remember each curve once more, Emilios backed them both towards the ladder leading up to the loft. He pressed her into it, using it to allow himself to fully press himself into her.
His hand slipped into the space between the cloth of her chiton, her back hot against the flesh. And he moaned into her lips, knowing that he needed her.
And that the space in which that would happen was directly above them.
Pulling back, there was a glimmer of mischief in his eye. Without a word, he bent down, wrapping his arms just below her backside. But instead of wrapping her around his torso, he carefully tossed her over his shoulder. His head turned, taking a playful bite of cloth before he began to climb the ladder.
Until my last breath.
That was the vow they had intended to make to each other before gods and man, the vow she had made instead to his brother. And even if men had witnessed that one, the gods would witness this, Theodora melting into Emilios’s grasp. Her lips yielded under his urgent kisses, his moan reflected in her own throat as she lost herself to the insistently growing heat between them.
This was meant to be. This was always meant to be. The weeks spent apart had been agony, a buried pain that Theodora desperately fought to keep tucked away. But now that she was here, his arms around her and his mouth on hers, she knew she could resist no longer. They were made for each other. They always had been.
Her back pressed against the ladder as his body molded to hers, hot breath mingling together as they kissed again and again. As his hands explored her body, so too did hers, relearning every inch of muscle-hardened flesh with a joyful abandon. His body was familiar to her, as familiar as her own, and unlike her times with Achilleas, she did not have to think or doubt. She knew him as he knew her, and being together was as natural for them as breathing. Even if his kisses threatened to halt her lungs.
When he pulled back, she made a sound of protest at his absence, needing the comfort of his body on hers. However, her protest quickly died on her lips as she saw the mischief in his gaze—replaced by a sound of surprise as he suddenly hauled her over his shoulder. Bubbling laughter filled the little shack as Emilios carried her up the ladder, her laughter coming harder as he bit at her dress.
Gods, how she had missed this; even in moments of passion, he could make her laugh; it seemed only natural that he should continue to do so now. Even with the weight of such a lofty decision hanging over them, even with the force of it sure to hit in the morning, this felt right. Normal.
Fated.
When he set her down on the mattress, her laughter quieted, reaching up to run her fingers along the side of his face. That beloved face, one that still swam in the back of her mind’s eye, still haunted her dreams, even as she tried so hard to push it away in daylight. She could still feel the phantom whispers of his fingers along her flesh, the murmur of his voice in her ear as he spoke to her sweet words of devotion. How could she have ever let him go after everything they had promised to each other? After everything they had been to each other?
She would not be making that mistake again any time soon. A line had been crossed tonight, and even if she woke up to regret it in the morning, she knew she would cross it again. Defenses gone, Theo was as susceptible to that smile as she had ever been.
“I have missed you,” she whispered as she kissed him again, petal-soft lips brushing over his before she spoke again. “I tried to pretend I didn’t miss you as much as I did, and I almost had myself convinced. But every time I saw you…” Her hand roamed down his face, his neck, to his shoulder, pushing aside the fabric of his chiton, bringing it down his arm as she kissed along his collarbone. “All I could think of was this, remembering what you felt like on top of me, inside of me…” Sighing softly, she kissed her way back up his throat until she found his mouth again, gently biting and tugging at his lower lip. “It was torture.”
Her lips moved along his jaw next, undoing the fibula at his other shoulder to kiss along that flesh, as well. “Almost, I am convinced I will wake in the morning, and this will all have been a dream. Gods know how many of my nights have ended in that way.”
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Until my last breath.
That was the vow they had intended to make to each other before gods and man, the vow she had made instead to his brother. And even if men had witnessed that one, the gods would witness this, Theodora melting into Emilios’s grasp. Her lips yielded under his urgent kisses, his moan reflected in her own throat as she lost herself to the insistently growing heat between them.
This was meant to be. This was always meant to be. The weeks spent apart had been agony, a buried pain that Theodora desperately fought to keep tucked away. But now that she was here, his arms around her and his mouth on hers, she knew she could resist no longer. They were made for each other. They always had been.
Her back pressed against the ladder as his body molded to hers, hot breath mingling together as they kissed again and again. As his hands explored her body, so too did hers, relearning every inch of muscle-hardened flesh with a joyful abandon. His body was familiar to her, as familiar as her own, and unlike her times with Achilleas, she did not have to think or doubt. She knew him as he knew her, and being together was as natural for them as breathing. Even if his kisses threatened to halt her lungs.
When he pulled back, she made a sound of protest at his absence, needing the comfort of his body on hers. However, her protest quickly died on her lips as she saw the mischief in his gaze—replaced by a sound of surprise as he suddenly hauled her over his shoulder. Bubbling laughter filled the little shack as Emilios carried her up the ladder, her laughter coming harder as he bit at her dress.
Gods, how she had missed this; even in moments of passion, he could make her laugh; it seemed only natural that he should continue to do so now. Even with the weight of such a lofty decision hanging over them, even with the force of it sure to hit in the morning, this felt right. Normal.
Fated.
When he set her down on the mattress, her laughter quieted, reaching up to run her fingers along the side of his face. That beloved face, one that still swam in the back of her mind’s eye, still haunted her dreams, even as she tried so hard to push it away in daylight. She could still feel the phantom whispers of his fingers along her flesh, the murmur of his voice in her ear as he spoke to her sweet words of devotion. How could she have ever let him go after everything they had promised to each other? After everything they had been to each other?
She would not be making that mistake again any time soon. A line had been crossed tonight, and even if she woke up to regret it in the morning, she knew she would cross it again. Defenses gone, Theo was as susceptible to that smile as she had ever been.
“I have missed you,” she whispered as she kissed him again, petal-soft lips brushing over his before she spoke again. “I tried to pretend I didn’t miss you as much as I did, and I almost had myself convinced. But every time I saw you…” Her hand roamed down his face, his neck, to his shoulder, pushing aside the fabric of his chiton, bringing it down his arm as she kissed along his collarbone. “All I could think of was this, remembering what you felt like on top of me, inside of me…” Sighing softly, she kissed her way back up his throat until she found his mouth again, gently biting and tugging at his lower lip. “It was torture.”
Her lips moved along his jaw next, undoing the fibula at his other shoulder to kiss along that flesh, as well. “Almost, I am convinced I will wake in the morning, and this will all have been a dream. Gods know how many of my nights have ended in that way.”
Until my last breath.
That was the vow they had intended to make to each other before gods and man, the vow she had made instead to his brother. And even if men had witnessed that one, the gods would witness this, Theodora melting into Emilios’s grasp. Her lips yielded under his urgent kisses, his moan reflected in her own throat as she lost herself to the insistently growing heat between them.
This was meant to be. This was always meant to be. The weeks spent apart had been agony, a buried pain that Theodora desperately fought to keep tucked away. But now that she was here, his arms around her and his mouth on hers, she knew she could resist no longer. They were made for each other. They always had been.
Her back pressed against the ladder as his body molded to hers, hot breath mingling together as they kissed again and again. As his hands explored her body, so too did hers, relearning every inch of muscle-hardened flesh with a joyful abandon. His body was familiar to her, as familiar as her own, and unlike her times with Achilleas, she did not have to think or doubt. She knew him as he knew her, and being together was as natural for them as breathing. Even if his kisses threatened to halt her lungs.
When he pulled back, she made a sound of protest at his absence, needing the comfort of his body on hers. However, her protest quickly died on her lips as she saw the mischief in his gaze—replaced by a sound of surprise as he suddenly hauled her over his shoulder. Bubbling laughter filled the little shack as Emilios carried her up the ladder, her laughter coming harder as he bit at her dress.
Gods, how she had missed this; even in moments of passion, he could make her laugh; it seemed only natural that he should continue to do so now. Even with the weight of such a lofty decision hanging over them, even with the force of it sure to hit in the morning, this felt right. Normal.
Fated.
When he set her down on the mattress, her laughter quieted, reaching up to run her fingers along the side of his face. That beloved face, one that still swam in the back of her mind’s eye, still haunted her dreams, even as she tried so hard to push it away in daylight. She could still feel the phantom whispers of his fingers along her flesh, the murmur of his voice in her ear as he spoke to her sweet words of devotion. How could she have ever let him go after everything they had promised to each other? After everything they had been to each other?
She would not be making that mistake again any time soon. A line had been crossed tonight, and even if she woke up to regret it in the morning, she knew she would cross it again. Defenses gone, Theo was as susceptible to that smile as she had ever been.
“I have missed you,” she whispered as she kissed him again, petal-soft lips brushing over his before she spoke again. “I tried to pretend I didn’t miss you as much as I did, and I almost had myself convinced. But every time I saw you…” Her hand roamed down his face, his neck, to his shoulder, pushing aside the fabric of his chiton, bringing it down his arm as she kissed along his collarbone. “All I could think of was this, remembering what you felt like on top of me, inside of me…” Sighing softly, she kissed her way back up his throat until she found his mouth again, gently biting and tugging at his lower lip. “It was torture.”
Her lips moved along his jaw next, undoing the fibula at his other shoulder to kiss along that flesh, as well. “Almost, I am convinced I will wake in the morning, and this will all have been a dream. Gods know how many of my nights have ended in that way.”
As he climbed up the ladder, he couldn’t help but feel relieved at her giggles, at the way she seemed to fall back into the ease of being together. For the pair, that had always been far simpler. They just seemed to know exactly how to make it work, at how to value each other for exactly what the other was. There were no preconceived notions about the expectations. They both knew exactly what the other wanted. He knew her and she knew him. They knew each other’s fault and saw beyond that.
They were in love, it was that simple.
Her laughter at his antics were proof of that. He was never a serious man. He relied on humor to hide any feelings that he may have wanted to keep buried down, or might have not wished to face in the moment. But there were times, mostly with her, that his humor was truly just a sign of his joy. He was happiest when he was with her, and couldn’t deny that he had been surprised when people hadn’t noticed the change in his personality as the last year had moved on.
And he was even more surprised that people hadn’t noticed his depressed behavior since the circus. Perhaps it wasn’t that hard to reason why he was so different. After all, his uncle and cousin were murdered, his father dying shortly after that and a war breaking out. It was not as if they were short on reasons for his mood to have changed. But even then, he had used his wry sense of humor to deal with the stress even then. But he pressed his lips into hers as he laid her back on the bed, and suddenly he felt like everything was better. As if the world was right and content. Like his soul was put back into his chest, his heart starting after months of not beating.
Her words were a balm, knowing that they had been struggling alongside each other. And now, they could do it together. They could face this with the support they wanted and needed. How had he let it go this long? “I do not know how I was breathing without you.” He said against her lips, hoping she understood just how much he had missed her. “We don’t have to pretend here, Theo. You and me? This place? It belongs to us and us alone. And you? You belong to me. Always.” His lips were hard against her, the passion and need escalating with each touch. “Now and forever.”
His hands moved just as possessively as hers. Hands brushing down the material of her chiton, his head turning to give her better access to his skin. “Gods, I have dreamed of this since the moment I lost you. It’s been torture not being able to be with you, how I need you. How I want you-- you are mine.” His hands tugged the material of her chiton, pulling it down to expose her down to the belly button. “No more, alright? No more.” His hand moved to her face, holding her chin to capture her lips in his own. He moved against her, pinning her down against him. “When we are alone, nothing else matters. You are mine, till the end of my days.”
He didn’t want for her answer, his lips back on hers. Emilios didn’t need words-- he just needed her.
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As he climbed up the ladder, he couldn’t help but feel relieved at her giggles, at the way she seemed to fall back into the ease of being together. For the pair, that had always been far simpler. They just seemed to know exactly how to make it work, at how to value each other for exactly what the other was. There were no preconceived notions about the expectations. They both knew exactly what the other wanted. He knew her and she knew him. They knew each other’s fault and saw beyond that.
They were in love, it was that simple.
Her laughter at his antics were proof of that. He was never a serious man. He relied on humor to hide any feelings that he may have wanted to keep buried down, or might have not wished to face in the moment. But there were times, mostly with her, that his humor was truly just a sign of his joy. He was happiest when he was with her, and couldn’t deny that he had been surprised when people hadn’t noticed the change in his personality as the last year had moved on.
And he was even more surprised that people hadn’t noticed his depressed behavior since the circus. Perhaps it wasn’t that hard to reason why he was so different. After all, his uncle and cousin were murdered, his father dying shortly after that and a war breaking out. It was not as if they were short on reasons for his mood to have changed. But even then, he had used his wry sense of humor to deal with the stress even then. But he pressed his lips into hers as he laid her back on the bed, and suddenly he felt like everything was better. As if the world was right and content. Like his soul was put back into his chest, his heart starting after months of not beating.
Her words were a balm, knowing that they had been struggling alongside each other. And now, they could do it together. They could face this with the support they wanted and needed. How had he let it go this long? “I do not know how I was breathing without you.” He said against her lips, hoping she understood just how much he had missed her. “We don’t have to pretend here, Theo. You and me? This place? It belongs to us and us alone. And you? You belong to me. Always.” His lips were hard against her, the passion and need escalating with each touch. “Now and forever.”
His hands moved just as possessively as hers. Hands brushing down the material of her chiton, his head turning to give her better access to his skin. “Gods, I have dreamed of this since the moment I lost you. It’s been torture not being able to be with you, how I need you. How I want you-- you are mine.” His hands tugged the material of her chiton, pulling it down to expose her down to the belly button. “No more, alright? No more.” His hand moved to her face, holding her chin to capture her lips in his own. He moved against her, pinning her down against him. “When we are alone, nothing else matters. You are mine, till the end of my days.”
He didn’t want for her answer, his lips back on hers. Emilios didn’t need words-- he just needed her.
As he climbed up the ladder, he couldn’t help but feel relieved at her giggles, at the way she seemed to fall back into the ease of being together. For the pair, that had always been far simpler. They just seemed to know exactly how to make it work, at how to value each other for exactly what the other was. There were no preconceived notions about the expectations. They both knew exactly what the other wanted. He knew her and she knew him. They knew each other’s fault and saw beyond that.
They were in love, it was that simple.
Her laughter at his antics were proof of that. He was never a serious man. He relied on humor to hide any feelings that he may have wanted to keep buried down, or might have not wished to face in the moment. But there were times, mostly with her, that his humor was truly just a sign of his joy. He was happiest when he was with her, and couldn’t deny that he had been surprised when people hadn’t noticed the change in his personality as the last year had moved on.
And he was even more surprised that people hadn’t noticed his depressed behavior since the circus. Perhaps it wasn’t that hard to reason why he was so different. After all, his uncle and cousin were murdered, his father dying shortly after that and a war breaking out. It was not as if they were short on reasons for his mood to have changed. But even then, he had used his wry sense of humor to deal with the stress even then. But he pressed his lips into hers as he laid her back on the bed, and suddenly he felt like everything was better. As if the world was right and content. Like his soul was put back into his chest, his heart starting after months of not beating.
Her words were a balm, knowing that they had been struggling alongside each other. And now, they could do it together. They could face this with the support they wanted and needed. How had he let it go this long? “I do not know how I was breathing without you.” He said against her lips, hoping she understood just how much he had missed her. “We don’t have to pretend here, Theo. You and me? This place? It belongs to us and us alone. And you? You belong to me. Always.” His lips were hard against her, the passion and need escalating with each touch. “Now and forever.”
His hands moved just as possessively as hers. Hands brushing down the material of her chiton, his head turning to give her better access to his skin. “Gods, I have dreamed of this since the moment I lost you. It’s been torture not being able to be with you, how I need you. How I want you-- you are mine.” His hands tugged the material of her chiton, pulling it down to expose her down to the belly button. “No more, alright? No more.” His hand moved to her face, holding her chin to capture her lips in his own. He moved against her, pinning her down against him. “When we are alone, nothing else matters. You are mine, till the end of my days.”
He didn’t want for her answer, his lips back on hers. Emilios didn’t need words-- he just needed her.
“Now and forever.”
Theodora echoed his words, basking in the warm of his adoration. Gods, what was she thinking when she walked away from him? No matter what her father wanted, no matter what her uncle said, she never should have followed through. She should have forsaken everything, run away with him, and disappeared into the woods like they had so dreamily imagined. After all, what had her decision really brought her? A husband and a crown, yes, but what did either of those things really mean to her, here and now? Olympia could have the crown back for all she cared. What did a throne matter without Emilios beside her to share it?
The irony that he should essentially be the one sharing it with her now. He was in charge in his brother’s absence, and she was the Queen. If only the circumstances were not… what they were.
A chill ran over her skin as Emilios pulled her chiton down, quickly replaced by his warmth as he pressed himself to her. She returned his kiss with a fevered abandon, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed as he pulled away. ‘You are mine, till the end of my days.’ Her fingers reached up to trace along the side of his face, her gaze rememorizing his features as her hand stopped to cup his jaw. “Till the end of our days,” she whispered in promise before his lips caught hers again, anything else she might have said lost to the insistent press of his mouth on hers.
Till the end of their days. Was it a promise she could really make? Were her words as empty now as they had been months ago, no matter how truly intended they had been then? She had already vowed the rest of her days to another, a man who was miles and leagues away now. For a moment, her stomach clenched with guilt as she remembered the dark stormy blue of an earnest gaze on a twilit night, so similar and yet so different to the one that gazed down on her now.
No. Achilleas could not intrude here now. He could rest content in the arms of his lover, while she reveled in the arms of her own.
Her guilt washed away for the time being by the surging tide of desire that rose through her, Theodora met Emilios’s kisses with desperate ones of her own, pouring the pain and frustration of months of separation into that contact. He tasted sweeter than anything she could ever remember touching her tongue, and his very presence was like a balm to her soul. Perhaps she would regret all this in the morning, but now…
She pushed his clothing away as her hands travelled down his body, fingertips caressing along the hardened flesh beneath. Her mouth trailed from his lips down his throat, her arms curling around him as she pulled him flush against her. She wanted to feel him everywhere she could, to let herself be consumed by him and only him. It was how it had always been with them. When they were together, everything else fell away.
“I love you, Emilios,” she whispered into the hollow of his throat, sealing her words with a kiss against the pulse that throbbed there. “No matter how different things are, no matter who I’m sworn to, that has never changed.” Her gaze flickered back up to his, imploring his understanding. “I’m so sorry I broke my promise.” He didn’t seem angry, and he seemed to have already forgiven her, but Theo could hardly forgive herself, no matter how he assured her his heart was hers forever. “I should have refused. I should have told Achilleas, I…” Whatever she should’ve done couldn’t be changed now, but at least she could tell him of the regret she bore every day. Kissing her way back to his mouth, she whispered against his lips, “I never should have let them separate us. I was a fool to think I could go on without you.”
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“Now and forever.”
Theodora echoed his words, basking in the warm of his adoration. Gods, what was she thinking when she walked away from him? No matter what her father wanted, no matter what her uncle said, she never should have followed through. She should have forsaken everything, run away with him, and disappeared into the woods like they had so dreamily imagined. After all, what had her decision really brought her? A husband and a crown, yes, but what did either of those things really mean to her, here and now? Olympia could have the crown back for all she cared. What did a throne matter without Emilios beside her to share it?
The irony that he should essentially be the one sharing it with her now. He was in charge in his brother’s absence, and she was the Queen. If only the circumstances were not… what they were.
A chill ran over her skin as Emilios pulled her chiton down, quickly replaced by his warmth as he pressed himself to her. She returned his kiss with a fevered abandon, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed as he pulled away. ‘You are mine, till the end of my days.’ Her fingers reached up to trace along the side of his face, her gaze rememorizing his features as her hand stopped to cup his jaw. “Till the end of our days,” she whispered in promise before his lips caught hers again, anything else she might have said lost to the insistent press of his mouth on hers.
Till the end of their days. Was it a promise she could really make? Were her words as empty now as they had been months ago, no matter how truly intended they had been then? She had already vowed the rest of her days to another, a man who was miles and leagues away now. For a moment, her stomach clenched with guilt as she remembered the dark stormy blue of an earnest gaze on a twilit night, so similar and yet so different to the one that gazed down on her now.
No. Achilleas could not intrude here now. He could rest content in the arms of his lover, while she reveled in the arms of her own.
Her guilt washed away for the time being by the surging tide of desire that rose through her, Theodora met Emilios’s kisses with desperate ones of her own, pouring the pain and frustration of months of separation into that contact. He tasted sweeter than anything she could ever remember touching her tongue, and his very presence was like a balm to her soul. Perhaps she would regret all this in the morning, but now…
She pushed his clothing away as her hands travelled down his body, fingertips caressing along the hardened flesh beneath. Her mouth trailed from his lips down his throat, her arms curling around him as she pulled him flush against her. She wanted to feel him everywhere she could, to let herself be consumed by him and only him. It was how it had always been with them. When they were together, everything else fell away.
“I love you, Emilios,” she whispered into the hollow of his throat, sealing her words with a kiss against the pulse that throbbed there. “No matter how different things are, no matter who I’m sworn to, that has never changed.” Her gaze flickered back up to his, imploring his understanding. “I’m so sorry I broke my promise.” He didn’t seem angry, and he seemed to have already forgiven her, but Theo could hardly forgive herself, no matter how he assured her his heart was hers forever. “I should have refused. I should have told Achilleas, I…” Whatever she should’ve done couldn’t be changed now, but at least she could tell him of the regret she bore every day. Kissing her way back to his mouth, she whispered against his lips, “I never should have let them separate us. I was a fool to think I could go on without you.”
“Now and forever.”
Theodora echoed his words, basking in the warm of his adoration. Gods, what was she thinking when she walked away from him? No matter what her father wanted, no matter what her uncle said, she never should have followed through. She should have forsaken everything, run away with him, and disappeared into the woods like they had so dreamily imagined. After all, what had her decision really brought her? A husband and a crown, yes, but what did either of those things really mean to her, here and now? Olympia could have the crown back for all she cared. What did a throne matter without Emilios beside her to share it?
The irony that he should essentially be the one sharing it with her now. He was in charge in his brother’s absence, and she was the Queen. If only the circumstances were not… what they were.
A chill ran over her skin as Emilios pulled her chiton down, quickly replaced by his warmth as he pressed himself to her. She returned his kiss with a fevered abandon, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed as he pulled away. ‘You are mine, till the end of my days.’ Her fingers reached up to trace along the side of his face, her gaze rememorizing his features as her hand stopped to cup his jaw. “Till the end of our days,” she whispered in promise before his lips caught hers again, anything else she might have said lost to the insistent press of his mouth on hers.
Till the end of their days. Was it a promise she could really make? Were her words as empty now as they had been months ago, no matter how truly intended they had been then? She had already vowed the rest of her days to another, a man who was miles and leagues away now. For a moment, her stomach clenched with guilt as she remembered the dark stormy blue of an earnest gaze on a twilit night, so similar and yet so different to the one that gazed down on her now.
No. Achilleas could not intrude here now. He could rest content in the arms of his lover, while she reveled in the arms of her own.
Her guilt washed away for the time being by the surging tide of desire that rose through her, Theodora met Emilios’s kisses with desperate ones of her own, pouring the pain and frustration of months of separation into that contact. He tasted sweeter than anything she could ever remember touching her tongue, and his very presence was like a balm to her soul. Perhaps she would regret all this in the morning, but now…
She pushed his clothing away as her hands travelled down his body, fingertips caressing along the hardened flesh beneath. Her mouth trailed from his lips down his throat, her arms curling around him as she pulled him flush against her. She wanted to feel him everywhere she could, to let herself be consumed by him and only him. It was how it had always been with them. When they were together, everything else fell away.
“I love you, Emilios,” she whispered into the hollow of his throat, sealing her words with a kiss against the pulse that throbbed there. “No matter how different things are, no matter who I’m sworn to, that has never changed.” Her gaze flickered back up to his, imploring his understanding. “I’m so sorry I broke my promise.” He didn’t seem angry, and he seemed to have already forgiven her, but Theo could hardly forgive herself, no matter how he assured her his heart was hers forever. “I should have refused. I should have told Achilleas, I…” Whatever she should’ve done couldn’t be changed now, but at least she could tell him of the regret she bore every day. Kissing her way back to his mouth, she whispered against his lips, “I never should have let them separate us. I was a fool to think I could go on without you.”
He knew that life was full of regret, of things they would wish they could go back and change and pretend as if things were different. Emilios knew, even more so recently, just how painful regret was. It wasn’t something he would wish on anyone. Because it left so much unknown in its wake. And, in his experience, there was only so much regret a person could take. Until the end of his days, he would regret not finding out the truth from his father prior to his death. He would regret never getting to tell his father what he really felt. He would regret not standing up for his mother to the man.
But those were regrets he could not change. He couldn’t bring the man back to simply tell him off.
But the regrets he carried with Theo? Those could be changed. She was here, with him now. She was real and alive and wanting of him just as much as he was wanting of her. There were loyalties and other issues that would arise with this simple act, but he could no longer refuse himself her company. He did not want to regret anything when it came to her. And as her desperate lips found a refuge in his own kisses, he was nearly certain that she was just as worried about what life would be without him. And as he wrapped his arms around her, he made a note to speak with her after about what this meant.
Because for him, it wasn’t just words. The little house he’d built for her were the actions he never could have taken while his father was alive. And as she spoke of regrets, he kissed her deeper, as if trying to remove the weight of them from her very soul. “Stop.” He said, not at all surprised by the fact that both were naked, the room warmed from the fire. “Stop, Theo.” He said, kissing her deeply, pressing her forehead to his as he pulled back enough to speak. “Theo, we are stronger than all of that. Everything that stood in the way of that ends at this door. Here, there is nothing but you and me. No regret, no wishing we could change the past.” He kissed her, removing the desperation that had been in his own lips and instead making it slow and languid. “This is all that matters here.”
His hand moved in between them, cupping her breast, rolling the nub of her nipple gently with his fingers. “I love Theodora. Out of every regret I may carry, my love for you is not one of them. We did what we could. And now, we will do what we must.” He smiled as his hand took her breast, his head moving from her lips to her neck, down to her collarbone, then to the opposite nipple. There was nothing he knew better than her body, than the ways to make her arch against him with need. Her breasts seemed fuller, but he paid it no mind as he kissed her there, the rosy bud rolling in his mouth with the help of his tongue. His other hand mimicked the movement, determined to have her wet and wanting before he gave the heat of her any attention.
Against her breast, he whispered, “You are the best part of me, Theo.” He nipped the delicate skin, “And the Gods made you for me. And I for you.” His eyes looked up at hers, enjoying the play of ecstasy that filled her lips. “My hands were made to trace your curves, to map them into my memory.” His hand dipped from her breast to her waist, to her hips. “My lips were made to worship your skin. To lay prayers on every inch, so that the gods may see them as they intended them to be given.” He sucked harder on her nipple, listening for the deep intake of breath that would come with it. “My ears have no purpose but to hear you moan my name.”
Emilios moved to her abdomen, kissing his way down as he moved to her core. “And I have never needed a sound more than now.” He said with a grin, shifting his focus. He placed a kiss on either side of the lips of her womanhood, before he kissed the center, tongue slowly making its way from bottom to top. And with that, he focused on her satisfaction, much like he had the first time he’d been with her.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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He knew that life was full of regret, of things they would wish they could go back and change and pretend as if things were different. Emilios knew, even more so recently, just how painful regret was. It wasn’t something he would wish on anyone. Because it left so much unknown in its wake. And, in his experience, there was only so much regret a person could take. Until the end of his days, he would regret not finding out the truth from his father prior to his death. He would regret never getting to tell his father what he really felt. He would regret not standing up for his mother to the man.
But those were regrets he could not change. He couldn’t bring the man back to simply tell him off.
But the regrets he carried with Theo? Those could be changed. She was here, with him now. She was real and alive and wanting of him just as much as he was wanting of her. There were loyalties and other issues that would arise with this simple act, but he could no longer refuse himself her company. He did not want to regret anything when it came to her. And as her desperate lips found a refuge in his own kisses, he was nearly certain that she was just as worried about what life would be without him. And as he wrapped his arms around her, he made a note to speak with her after about what this meant.
Because for him, it wasn’t just words. The little house he’d built for her were the actions he never could have taken while his father was alive. And as she spoke of regrets, he kissed her deeper, as if trying to remove the weight of them from her very soul. “Stop.” He said, not at all surprised by the fact that both were naked, the room warmed from the fire. “Stop, Theo.” He said, kissing her deeply, pressing her forehead to his as he pulled back enough to speak. “Theo, we are stronger than all of that. Everything that stood in the way of that ends at this door. Here, there is nothing but you and me. No regret, no wishing we could change the past.” He kissed her, removing the desperation that had been in his own lips and instead making it slow and languid. “This is all that matters here.”
His hand moved in between them, cupping her breast, rolling the nub of her nipple gently with his fingers. “I love Theodora. Out of every regret I may carry, my love for you is not one of them. We did what we could. And now, we will do what we must.” He smiled as his hand took her breast, his head moving from her lips to her neck, down to her collarbone, then to the opposite nipple. There was nothing he knew better than her body, than the ways to make her arch against him with need. Her breasts seemed fuller, but he paid it no mind as he kissed her there, the rosy bud rolling in his mouth with the help of his tongue. His other hand mimicked the movement, determined to have her wet and wanting before he gave the heat of her any attention.
Against her breast, he whispered, “You are the best part of me, Theo.” He nipped the delicate skin, “And the Gods made you for me. And I for you.” His eyes looked up at hers, enjoying the play of ecstasy that filled her lips. “My hands were made to trace your curves, to map them into my memory.” His hand dipped from her breast to her waist, to her hips. “My lips were made to worship your skin. To lay prayers on every inch, so that the gods may see them as they intended them to be given.” He sucked harder on her nipple, listening for the deep intake of breath that would come with it. “My ears have no purpose but to hear you moan my name.”
Emilios moved to her abdomen, kissing his way down as he moved to her core. “And I have never needed a sound more than now.” He said with a grin, shifting his focus. He placed a kiss on either side of the lips of her womanhood, before he kissed the center, tongue slowly making its way from bottom to top. And with that, he focused on her satisfaction, much like he had the first time he’d been with her.
He knew that life was full of regret, of things they would wish they could go back and change and pretend as if things were different. Emilios knew, even more so recently, just how painful regret was. It wasn’t something he would wish on anyone. Because it left so much unknown in its wake. And, in his experience, there was only so much regret a person could take. Until the end of his days, he would regret not finding out the truth from his father prior to his death. He would regret never getting to tell his father what he really felt. He would regret not standing up for his mother to the man.
But those were regrets he could not change. He couldn’t bring the man back to simply tell him off.
But the regrets he carried with Theo? Those could be changed. She was here, with him now. She was real and alive and wanting of him just as much as he was wanting of her. There were loyalties and other issues that would arise with this simple act, but he could no longer refuse himself her company. He did not want to regret anything when it came to her. And as her desperate lips found a refuge in his own kisses, he was nearly certain that she was just as worried about what life would be without him. And as he wrapped his arms around her, he made a note to speak with her after about what this meant.
Because for him, it wasn’t just words. The little house he’d built for her were the actions he never could have taken while his father was alive. And as she spoke of regrets, he kissed her deeper, as if trying to remove the weight of them from her very soul. “Stop.” He said, not at all surprised by the fact that both were naked, the room warmed from the fire. “Stop, Theo.” He said, kissing her deeply, pressing her forehead to his as he pulled back enough to speak. “Theo, we are stronger than all of that. Everything that stood in the way of that ends at this door. Here, there is nothing but you and me. No regret, no wishing we could change the past.” He kissed her, removing the desperation that had been in his own lips and instead making it slow and languid. “This is all that matters here.”
His hand moved in between them, cupping her breast, rolling the nub of her nipple gently with his fingers. “I love Theodora. Out of every regret I may carry, my love for you is not one of them. We did what we could. And now, we will do what we must.” He smiled as his hand took her breast, his head moving from her lips to her neck, down to her collarbone, then to the opposite nipple. There was nothing he knew better than her body, than the ways to make her arch against him with need. Her breasts seemed fuller, but he paid it no mind as he kissed her there, the rosy bud rolling in his mouth with the help of his tongue. His other hand mimicked the movement, determined to have her wet and wanting before he gave the heat of her any attention.
Against her breast, he whispered, “You are the best part of me, Theo.” He nipped the delicate skin, “And the Gods made you for me. And I for you.” His eyes looked up at hers, enjoying the play of ecstasy that filled her lips. “My hands were made to trace your curves, to map them into my memory.” His hand dipped from her breast to her waist, to her hips. “My lips were made to worship your skin. To lay prayers on every inch, so that the gods may see them as they intended them to be given.” He sucked harder on her nipple, listening for the deep intake of breath that would come with it. “My ears have no purpose but to hear you moan my name.”
Emilios moved to her abdomen, kissing his way down as he moved to her core. “And I have never needed a sound more than now.” He said with a grin, shifting his focus. He placed a kiss on either side of the lips of her womanhood, before he kissed the center, tongue slowly making its way from bottom to top. And with that, he focused on her satisfaction, much like he had the first time he’d been with her.
Emilios sweetly kissed her apologies away, Theodora’s eyes shining with tears as he pulled back to speak. The tenderness of his reassurances had her heart melting through the walls she had built around it, returning his kisses with the same slow languidness he bestowed. He was right. They couldn’t change the past. Likely, they could not change the future, either. All they had now was the present. And gods, would she lose herself in it.
She pressed into his touch, her breath coming in a soft gasp at the gentle roll of his fingers. His mouth soon followed the path of his hands, her own fingers lazily twirling in his hair as lust-darkened eyes gazed down into the earnest face professing love for her. The warm touch of his tongue drew a groan from her lips, eyes flickering closed with a quiet sigh as she settled into the all-too-familiar rhythm of their give and take.
‘You are the best part of me, Theo.’
Her eyes opened again at that, the hand in his hair loosening to stroke along the side of his cheek. How could any woman resist being told such a thing? Or the things that followed? ‘My lips were made to worship your skin. To lay prayers on every inch, so that the gods may see them as they intended them to be given.’ She felt her eyes well with tears again at that—what had she ever done to deserve such reverence? He had named her goddess from the night their affair began, but truly, she felt he was the divinity, not her.
His words, the play of his mouth and hands, the significance of the very building housing them… all of it melted together and left Theodora helpless, as helpless as she had ever been to resist the man kissing his way down her body. Her breath stuttered in her lungs, the languorous sweeps of his tongue drawing from her the moans he asked for as her hips arched from the bed.
“Emilios…” she moaned his name with a sharp gasp, thighs tightening around his face of their own volition. It was not the first lustful utterance of his name as his tongue teased at the warm velvet between her legs, squirming beneath him as he dove right for the spots he knew would make her shiver. Even in their months apart, he had clearly not forgotten what would make her writhe and beg, and it wasn’t long before she was shaking and crying out her ecstasy to the thatched ceiling above them.
It felt like a homecoming, that release, dark eyes resting on her lover’s as she reached to pull his face back to hers. “Come here,” she said in quiet command before desperately capturing his lips with hers and kissing her taste from his mouth.
Fingers tracing down his body to stop at his hip, her nails dug into the flesh there as she whispered against his lips in a soft plea, “Make love to me. I don’t want to spend one more second without you inside of me.” Her leg curled insistently around the back of his, biting gently at his lower lip. “It has already been far too long…”
No sooner than she said the words was he complying, pressed up against her entrance as she stared up at him with shivering anticipation. Eyes met, a breath released, his mouth on hers, and he was inside—the weeks of separation forgotten as she surrendered to the press of his body against hers. It was a feeling she never thought to have again, a tightness within her releasing at the sweet familiarity of his touch. Swept up in him as she ever was, she reveled in every brush of his hand over her skin, every touch of his lips against hers, every thrust within her core. The creatures of the wood would bless their union, even if the gods would not, and for now… it was enough.
The rest of the night continued in much the same fashion, an hour or two of sleep caught before waking only to begin the process again. By the time morning arrived, Theodora was well satiated, and as the first rays of the sun began to wash over her face, she felt a smile pull at her lips far easier than it had in months. Rolling onto her side, she slowly drew her hand along the side of his face, down his neck to his chest, where he caught it within his own grasp. A kiss was pressed to her fingers as she leaned in to whisper, “I have to go. Althaia or Eliana will be in to wake me soon, and I need to be there before they are.”
Though he made a murmur of protest, the prince released her to her own devices, Theodora pretending not to notice his eyes roaming over her as she dressed—all the while ensuring every move she made only flaunted the beauty of her curves that much further. Once she was somewhat decent again, she drew him down from the bed and back into her arms, one last lingering kiss pressed to his lips.
“I will meet you again here soon,” she murmured, hands tracing over his face as if to rememorize every line before she would see him again. “I’ll find a way to send word.”
Parting from him before she could change her mind and jump him again, she stopped in the doorway to meet his eyes. “I love you,” she said, voice quiet as he met her words with a smile, the same smile that would always twist her stomach and leave her knees weak. Warmth rushed to her cheeks as she returned it, blowing him a kiss before rushing over to saddle Callista.
Once she was mounted and the little shack was out of sight, the Queen felt the weight of what she’d done start to hit her—her stomach twisting for an entirely different reason now. While it was happening, it almost felt a dream, but now in the cold light of day…
She swallowed hard as she urged her mare into a gallop, letting the brisk morning air and the rush of scenery around them soothe such unease from her thoughts. She’d made her choice, and there was little she could do to change it now. Yet, even as she tried to put it from her mind, she knew it was a choice she would continue to make. She and Emilios had promised each other forever, and with Achilleas so far away…
Gods, what was she to do?
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Emilios sweetly kissed her apologies away, Theodora’s eyes shining with tears as he pulled back to speak. The tenderness of his reassurances had her heart melting through the walls she had built around it, returning his kisses with the same slow languidness he bestowed. He was right. They couldn’t change the past. Likely, they could not change the future, either. All they had now was the present. And gods, would she lose herself in it.
She pressed into his touch, her breath coming in a soft gasp at the gentle roll of his fingers. His mouth soon followed the path of his hands, her own fingers lazily twirling in his hair as lust-darkened eyes gazed down into the earnest face professing love for her. The warm touch of his tongue drew a groan from her lips, eyes flickering closed with a quiet sigh as she settled into the all-too-familiar rhythm of their give and take.
‘You are the best part of me, Theo.’
Her eyes opened again at that, the hand in his hair loosening to stroke along the side of his cheek. How could any woman resist being told such a thing? Or the things that followed? ‘My lips were made to worship your skin. To lay prayers on every inch, so that the gods may see them as they intended them to be given.’ She felt her eyes well with tears again at that—what had she ever done to deserve such reverence? He had named her goddess from the night their affair began, but truly, she felt he was the divinity, not her.
His words, the play of his mouth and hands, the significance of the very building housing them… all of it melted together and left Theodora helpless, as helpless as she had ever been to resist the man kissing his way down her body. Her breath stuttered in her lungs, the languorous sweeps of his tongue drawing from her the moans he asked for as her hips arched from the bed.
“Emilios…” she moaned his name with a sharp gasp, thighs tightening around his face of their own volition. It was not the first lustful utterance of his name as his tongue teased at the warm velvet between her legs, squirming beneath him as he dove right for the spots he knew would make her shiver. Even in their months apart, he had clearly not forgotten what would make her writhe and beg, and it wasn’t long before she was shaking and crying out her ecstasy to the thatched ceiling above them.
It felt like a homecoming, that release, dark eyes resting on her lover’s as she reached to pull his face back to hers. “Come here,” she said in quiet command before desperately capturing his lips with hers and kissing her taste from his mouth.
Fingers tracing down his body to stop at his hip, her nails dug into the flesh there as she whispered against his lips in a soft plea, “Make love to me. I don’t want to spend one more second without you inside of me.” Her leg curled insistently around the back of his, biting gently at his lower lip. “It has already been far too long…”
No sooner than she said the words was he complying, pressed up against her entrance as she stared up at him with shivering anticipation. Eyes met, a breath released, his mouth on hers, and he was inside—the weeks of separation forgotten as she surrendered to the press of his body against hers. It was a feeling she never thought to have again, a tightness within her releasing at the sweet familiarity of his touch. Swept up in him as she ever was, she reveled in every brush of his hand over her skin, every touch of his lips against hers, every thrust within her core. The creatures of the wood would bless their union, even if the gods would not, and for now… it was enough.
The rest of the night continued in much the same fashion, an hour or two of sleep caught before waking only to begin the process again. By the time morning arrived, Theodora was well satiated, and as the first rays of the sun began to wash over her face, she felt a smile pull at her lips far easier than it had in months. Rolling onto her side, she slowly drew her hand along the side of his face, down his neck to his chest, where he caught it within his own grasp. A kiss was pressed to her fingers as she leaned in to whisper, “I have to go. Althaia or Eliana will be in to wake me soon, and I need to be there before they are.”
Though he made a murmur of protest, the prince released her to her own devices, Theodora pretending not to notice his eyes roaming over her as she dressed—all the while ensuring every move she made only flaunted the beauty of her curves that much further. Once she was somewhat decent again, she drew him down from the bed and back into her arms, one last lingering kiss pressed to his lips.
“I will meet you again here soon,” she murmured, hands tracing over his face as if to rememorize every line before she would see him again. “I’ll find a way to send word.”
Parting from him before she could change her mind and jump him again, she stopped in the doorway to meet his eyes. “I love you,” she said, voice quiet as he met her words with a smile, the same smile that would always twist her stomach and leave her knees weak. Warmth rushed to her cheeks as she returned it, blowing him a kiss before rushing over to saddle Callista.
Once she was mounted and the little shack was out of sight, the Queen felt the weight of what she’d done start to hit her—her stomach twisting for an entirely different reason now. While it was happening, it almost felt a dream, but now in the cold light of day…
She swallowed hard as she urged her mare into a gallop, letting the brisk morning air and the rush of scenery around them soothe such unease from her thoughts. She’d made her choice, and there was little she could do to change it now. Yet, even as she tried to put it from her mind, she knew it was a choice she would continue to make. She and Emilios had promised each other forever, and with Achilleas so far away…
Gods, what was she to do?
Emilios sweetly kissed her apologies away, Theodora’s eyes shining with tears as he pulled back to speak. The tenderness of his reassurances had her heart melting through the walls she had built around it, returning his kisses with the same slow languidness he bestowed. He was right. They couldn’t change the past. Likely, they could not change the future, either. All they had now was the present. And gods, would she lose herself in it.
She pressed into his touch, her breath coming in a soft gasp at the gentle roll of his fingers. His mouth soon followed the path of his hands, her own fingers lazily twirling in his hair as lust-darkened eyes gazed down into the earnest face professing love for her. The warm touch of his tongue drew a groan from her lips, eyes flickering closed with a quiet sigh as she settled into the all-too-familiar rhythm of their give and take.
‘You are the best part of me, Theo.’
Her eyes opened again at that, the hand in his hair loosening to stroke along the side of his cheek. How could any woman resist being told such a thing? Or the things that followed? ‘My lips were made to worship your skin. To lay prayers on every inch, so that the gods may see them as they intended them to be given.’ She felt her eyes well with tears again at that—what had she ever done to deserve such reverence? He had named her goddess from the night their affair began, but truly, she felt he was the divinity, not her.
His words, the play of his mouth and hands, the significance of the very building housing them… all of it melted together and left Theodora helpless, as helpless as she had ever been to resist the man kissing his way down her body. Her breath stuttered in her lungs, the languorous sweeps of his tongue drawing from her the moans he asked for as her hips arched from the bed.
“Emilios…” she moaned his name with a sharp gasp, thighs tightening around his face of their own volition. It was not the first lustful utterance of his name as his tongue teased at the warm velvet between her legs, squirming beneath him as he dove right for the spots he knew would make her shiver. Even in their months apart, he had clearly not forgotten what would make her writhe and beg, and it wasn’t long before she was shaking and crying out her ecstasy to the thatched ceiling above them.
It felt like a homecoming, that release, dark eyes resting on her lover’s as she reached to pull his face back to hers. “Come here,” she said in quiet command before desperately capturing his lips with hers and kissing her taste from his mouth.
Fingers tracing down his body to stop at his hip, her nails dug into the flesh there as she whispered against his lips in a soft plea, “Make love to me. I don’t want to spend one more second without you inside of me.” Her leg curled insistently around the back of his, biting gently at his lower lip. “It has already been far too long…”
No sooner than she said the words was he complying, pressed up against her entrance as she stared up at him with shivering anticipation. Eyes met, a breath released, his mouth on hers, and he was inside—the weeks of separation forgotten as she surrendered to the press of his body against hers. It was a feeling she never thought to have again, a tightness within her releasing at the sweet familiarity of his touch. Swept up in him as she ever was, she reveled in every brush of his hand over her skin, every touch of his lips against hers, every thrust within her core. The creatures of the wood would bless their union, even if the gods would not, and for now… it was enough.
The rest of the night continued in much the same fashion, an hour or two of sleep caught before waking only to begin the process again. By the time morning arrived, Theodora was well satiated, and as the first rays of the sun began to wash over her face, she felt a smile pull at her lips far easier than it had in months. Rolling onto her side, she slowly drew her hand along the side of his face, down his neck to his chest, where he caught it within his own grasp. A kiss was pressed to her fingers as she leaned in to whisper, “I have to go. Althaia or Eliana will be in to wake me soon, and I need to be there before they are.”
Though he made a murmur of protest, the prince released her to her own devices, Theodora pretending not to notice his eyes roaming over her as she dressed—all the while ensuring every move she made only flaunted the beauty of her curves that much further. Once she was somewhat decent again, she drew him down from the bed and back into her arms, one last lingering kiss pressed to his lips.
“I will meet you again here soon,” she murmured, hands tracing over his face as if to rememorize every line before she would see him again. “I’ll find a way to send word.”
Parting from him before she could change her mind and jump him again, she stopped in the doorway to meet his eyes. “I love you,” she said, voice quiet as he met her words with a smile, the same smile that would always twist her stomach and leave her knees weak. Warmth rushed to her cheeks as she returned it, blowing him a kiss before rushing over to saddle Callista.
Once she was mounted and the little shack was out of sight, the Queen felt the weight of what she’d done start to hit her—her stomach twisting for an entirely different reason now. While it was happening, it almost felt a dream, but now in the cold light of day…
She swallowed hard as she urged her mare into a gallop, letting the brisk morning air and the rush of scenery around them soothe such unease from her thoughts. She’d made her choice, and there was little she could do to change it now. Yet, even as she tried to put it from her mind, she knew it was a choice she would continue to make. She and Emilios had promised each other forever, and with Achilleas so far away…
