She smiled as Achilleas drew her hand up to his lips, the smile deepening at his accompanying comment. “Now, I didn’t say I was bad,” she playfully pointed out with a quirk of her brow. “Just out of practice.” Laughing as he recounted his memory of her aim, she did not even bother pretending shame. “Yes, I suppose you do have some experience with that,” she said through her giggle, biting her lip. “I would say I’m sorry, but… I’m not. I still stand by it.” With a wink, she added, “I probably won’t do it again, though.”

Theodora’s smile wavered as their conversation continued, her gaze narrowing when he denied her request. Not so much at the denial itself, but more so the reasoning behind it. It wasn’t a ‘woman’s pastime?’ Really? Yet archery was? Reminding herself that this was supposed to be a pleasant night, one that she ought not to ruin with arguing, her voice was carefully calm as she responded, “Well, I would argue archery is rather dangerous, as well.” Her brow lifted again, as if daring him to contradict her. “And yet, you just openly encouraged that. I’m not saying I want to jump right into racing a chariot,” she went on, perfectly reasonably, she thought. “Just to learn how to drive one. Surely, if it’s just you and me, it can’t be all that dangerous, right?”

Maybe the wide-eyed gaze she turned on him was deliberately a little exaggerated, leaning into his shoulder with a slight puff of her lower lip. “Do you know how many times I’ve been thrown from the back of a horse in my life? How many times I’ve been kicked or bitten, or butted in the head? There’s always risk around big animals. It doesn’t frighten me.” She looked at their joined hands for a moment before turning to lightly nuzzle against his neck, a gentle kiss laid right below his ear. “Besides, you’ll be there. You can make sure it doesn’t get out of hand, can’t you?”

She sighed softly at his suggestion they go see the races in Argothia instead; as he predicted, it was not nearly enough to mollify her. “I would like that, yes,” she conceded with the qualifier, “but, you know, in addition to learning it myself. Watching and doing aren’t the same thing, you know.”

Pulling back for a moment, she met his gaze with a tilt of her head, squeezing his hand again as she asked in a soft voice, “Please?”

‘I’m not convinced you are allowed to throw things at the King. In fact, now I think about it. I’m quite sure it’s forbidden. Just so you are aware.’

Theodora’s grin widened at that, looking down to where his finger ran over her ring. “Well, I should think the Queen is allowed to bend a few rules,” she blithely retorted, biting back another laugh. “But I’ll be sure to keep that in mind the next time I’m possessed with the urge.”

The next time would prove to be sooner than she thought, none too pleased with his response to what she thought an innocuous request. She tried logic first to make her appeal, knowing what a logical man Achilleas was. Unsurprisingly, though, he was prepared with an argument at the ready, deflecting against her insistence that archery was dangerous, too. “But I could lose control of the bow,” she shot back defensively. “Target or not. You never know. Someone could be caught in the crossfire. There’s always risk. To everything.” At this point, she wasn’t sure if her argument would help her or hurt her—maybe she was going in the wrong direction by pointing out an entirely different danger. The last thing she wanted was for him to prevent her from doing something else.

However, her new tactic seemed to be working a bit better, Achilleas more hesitant to rebut as her lips brushed over his throat, and she set him within a beseeching gaze. He hesitated at her soft plea, and she held her breath as he paused. When he at last conceded, however reluctantly, a triumphant grin broke over the queen’s face. She would have to remember this gambit more often with her stubborn husband. There was something to be said for the power of a woman’s wiles.

“Of course.” She was quick to agree to his terms with an enthusiastic nod, warmth bubbling through her chest at her seeming success. Leaning into his touch, her arms slid around his neck as her lips found his, a heated kiss lingering for several long moments. “Only a maybe, though?” she pressed in a low voice as she moved in closer, her fingers winding in his hair as she kissed him again. Her free hand slid down along his back, bunching in the fabric of his chiton when her tongue teased lightly along his lower lip. “Surely you can do better than a maybe…”

Perhaps she oughtn’t push her luck, but she had a feeling the way she presented her case wouldn’t be too poorly received. Drunk on her victory and smiling against his lips, she kissed him one more time before pulling back, her hand untangling from his clothing to rest demurely on his side. A sort of challenge sparkled in her gaze, unable to keep a smug amusement from her face as it looked into his. The hand in his hair loosened, falling to caress along his jaw, her fingertip stopping at his chin before it, too, fell away—shifting instead to propping up her cheek where her elbow rested against the ground.

The shocked disbelief on his face was laughable as she pulled her little ploy, the queen’s eyes glittering with wanton mischief. What did he really expect of her by now? ‘That’s not… Come back here.’ She stayed right where she was in playful defiance, but it didn’t matter; he leaned over her and claimed her mouth himself, his thigh none too subtly parting hers. Even as he settled on ‘maybe’ again, insisting between kisses that he would not be so easily swayed, she knew she had him right where she wanted him, no matter what he said. ‘Maybe’ would turn to ‘yes’ easily enough, she was sure. And besides, it would be fun, anyway—what was he so worried about? He would see it for himself and realize just how silly this argument had been in the first place.

Thoughts of chariots were quickly fleeing, however, her husband playing into her game all too well. Kisses trailed down her throat with a soft sigh, her hand lazily curling back into his hair. His fingers deliciously traced up her body to elicit a shiver of delight, Theodora relaxing into his touch as their battle of wills dissolved into something a bit more enjoyable for them both.

‘We haven’t eaten.’

It was almost sweet of him to think of that, caught halfway up into the grasp of desire, and her lips curled into a slow smirk. “Mm, so we haven’t,” she murmured in return, though she didn’t sound too disappointed about that fact. His hand feathered over the side of her breast, and it was even harder to care that the food was still untouched. Almost like a cat, she leaned into the stroke of his hand with a soft sound of pleasure. She’d been hungry when they first arrived, but now? Now, she could wait.

‘Do you want... that, now?’

Reaching for him, she pulled his face back down to hers, shaking her head as she brushed her lips over his. “Later,” she whispered before kissing him again, a leisurely meeting of lips and tongue that left no doubt as to what it was she did want at that moment. A soft laugh accompanied her quiet tease, “Devour me instead.”

Though their last attempt at this had… left somewhat to be desired, she did not hold it against him now. It was perfectly understandable that evening had gone awry, and she’d have to be a monster to blame him for even a second of it. Besides, this was a new night, in a different place, on an evening set aside with romance in mind. She had faith things would not end in the same way they had before, and her interest was just as piqued as his when her hands began to roam over toned muscle, sliding beneath the fabric of his chiton to trace along warm flesh.

Softly placed kisses marched a path down the side of his neck, stopping with a light nip to the bend of his shoulder. Delicate fingers undid the fibulae at his arms and shoulders, kissing along the skin she exposed as she pressed in closer. A cool breeze teased at the ends of her hair, but she hardly noticed with the heat that warmed her from within. There was an urgency even in the gentleness of her movements, a more genuine desire that motivated her kisses and caresses as she moved to divest him of his clothing. She wanted to see him, to more fully appreciate the mouthwatering physique the gods had gifted him. Even if there had been some awkwardness in this aspect of their marriage, that much of his appeal could never be denied, and it was a sight she didn’t think she would ever get tired of seeing.

It took her a moment to realize why it was that he felt different beneath her fingertips, and it wasn’t until his chiton fell away that she fully recognized what it was. “All your hair is gone,” she declared in shock, rather obviously, her hand delicately trailing up along his bared chest as her wide-eyed gaze briefly flicked to his. Was that what he’d meant when he said how uncomfortable the armor fitting was? Gods, that was way worse than dress fitting. She didn’t have to lose any hair during that.

Such thoughts didn’t linger long, though, not as her husband worshipfully removed her own clothing, the queen readjusting herself to help him push the fabric away. Another breeze trailed goosebumps along her skin, nipples tightening in the cool caress of the autumnal wind. But Theodora hardly noticed, far more preoccupied with the path Achilleas began to take as he kissed his way down her body. Shivers chased themselves along her skin at the rasp of his beard, and when he paused at her hip, so did she. Gazing down the length of her torso to where he nuzzled in against her thigh, Theodora caught her breath in surprise. The kiss he laid there left little doubt as to what he was after, a soft flush coloring her cheeks. Truly, he was full of all sorts of surprises tonight, wasn’t he?

It was an intimacy they hadn’t shared before, and for a moment, she hesitated, her hand running down to trace through his hair as her heart picked up its pace. Her hesitance didn’t last long, though, her thighs parting further in invitation. She bit her lip when he settled between them, laying back against the inviting nest of silks that cocooned them both. When his head lowered to taste her, Theodora’s breath came sharp at the first swipe of his tongue, her fingers tightening encouragingly in his hair as it released on a shuddering sigh.

Though enthusiastic, his ardor was a bit clumsy at first, and her heart softened a little further because of it. She couldn’t imagine it was something he had done very often, and there was something sweet about that—that he should seek to please her in such a way. Even if he wasn’t all that skilled, there was one thing to be said for Achilleas, and that was his capacity to learn. He paid attention to the signals she gave, which she was sure to give plenty of; her moans deepened when his tongue traced the right places, her fingers grasping harder into his hair, her thighs tightening just so around his face. She encouraged him to center his attentions around the little nub that controlled her pleasure, a breathy whisper of, “yes, there,” signaling her approval when he found it. Her free hand curled into the silks beneath her as her breath caught on a soft mewl of bliss, a tension building in her core that had been rather… absent in some of their previous encounters.

“Don’t stop,” she would beg if he began to slow, her breath short, as she hovered just… right… there…

Her climax took her nearly by surprise when it came, the pressure of his fingers combined with the fervor of his tongue toppling her over the edge. Back arching as she cried out, her breath came in ragged gasps when she collapsed back against the blanket, her eyes fluttering open after a long moment to gaze down into the smiling face of her husband. Face flushed and pupils dilated in the wake of her pleasure, she returned his smile with a dazed sort of look, the hand in his hair withdrawing to affectionately run across his cheek instead.

It was the first time he had brought her across that line, and there seemed a certain pride in his expression, a contented success that widened her smile. When he drew himself up over her body, she pulled his face back down to hers in a tender kiss—shy as she kissed her own taste from his lips. As he nudged up against her, she drew in a soft breath, sensitive to every little brush along her flesh. For a moment, their eyes met again as he held back, her hand covering his where it clutched at her hip. When he sank within her in earnest, that breath shuddered out in a sigh, her legs coming up to encircle his hips as she invited him further inside.

Her hips rose to meet his, almost lazily in the aftermath of the bliss that left her muscles soft as butter. Soft hands trailed across his back in exploration of the toned muscle beneath his skin, her flesh pressed to his as he moved within her. She groaned her lust into his ear with a gentle nip to the lobe, increasingly frantic kisses carving their way down his neck, across his jaw, and back to his mouth. Nipping and tugging at his lower lip, her nails trailed down his back, stopping to curl into his hip and encourage the pace he set.

Perhaps it was the setting around them that made this night feel so different from the ones before it—there was a curious sort of peace here, caught up in the illusory bubble her husband had created for them. She felt no need to focus on anything besides what was happening here and now, consumed by the heady sway of their bodies’ ardent coupling. Perhaps she was still swept up in the intoxication of winning their little disagreement, and so she was able to let go of some of the reserve that so often still held her back from Achilleas.

Or maybe there was just something there that she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge before.

Whatever it was, Theodora allowed herself to be caught up in it, relaxing into the rhythm he set. Her lips caught his again, groaning into the contact as her tongue sought to tangle with his. “Harder,” she urged when she pulled back to take a breath, her leg curling more firmly around his hip. Another moan stifled as her mouth collided with his, an arm looped around his shoulders to keep her own pace steady and matched with his.

It was to her heady relief (and much to his, too, she assumed) that this coupling ended in a far more satisfying way than the last time, a smile tilting her lips when Achilleas groaned his release into her neck. Theodora’s fingers ran through his hair before she pressed a kiss to the side of his forehead, her eyes closing and breath slowly steadying as he came back to himself. When he at last parted from her, she made a quiet sound of protest and nearly pulled him back, a soft shiver running over sweat-dampened skin. However, the chill didn’t last long, Achilleas pulling the makeshift blanket over them both and sliding his arm around her.

Her eyes were half-lidded and heavy when he spoke again, opening them fully as her gaze flicked up to his. “Well, that certainly presents a problem,” she murmured with a lazy grin as errant fingertips absently ran over the arm holding her in its grasp. “Because now I’m hungry, and I’m afraid I can’t be fussed to move, either.” Laughing, there was a sparkle in her eye as she added, “Eventually, one of us is going to have to be the hero, though, and I don’t think it shall be me.”

As if to prove her point, she made a show of getting more comfortable, nestling down further into the disheveled nest of fabric. “See? These silks have claimed me as one of their own, and I don’t think they’ll allow me to leave them.” She grinned as she returned his embrace, her arm sliding around his waist and pressing in a little closer lest he think she wanted him to go fetch the food right that second. “Not yet, though,” she quickly added as she dropped a gentle kiss in the hollow of his throat. “I’ll be cold if you get up.”

Snuggled up in this little idyll, it was easy to forget for a while all the complications they faced, the constant setbacks that had plagued them from the beginning. It was easier not to think of the denied desires of her own heart, that the man she rested against now was not the one she had expected. It was easier to remind herself that even if she hadn’t gotten what she wanted, that what she had gotten was its own blessing. If there were more nights like this and fewer like… well, so many others, she had hope their marriage was not as doomed as she had feared.

For a while, she lay there in silence, drifting on the edge of lazy drowsing before she spoke again, “That was…” She blushed and ducked her head, though she reprimanded herself that she ought not to be shy about such things any more, not with the man she was now married to. If they wanted to learn more of each other, they needed to be able to talk about the things they liked and didn’t like, even if such conversation made her want to giggle and hide like a teenager. “That was nice. What you did.” How did one politely phrase what he had done with his tongue in a way that did not sound crass or vulgar? Clearing her throat and swallowing, she blushed harder, hoping the twilight might hide some of it. “If you’d like, I can… do that for you too. Not… tonight, necessarily, but you know. One day.”

Theodora enjoyed seeing the softness in his features, the ever-present worry smoothed away into something much gentler than she was used to seeing. It made him look younger, or at least closer to the age he really was, and it lightened her heart to see such a change in his face, and, really, his whole demeanor. Rather than the stress and concern she had come to associate with him, he seemed… relaxed. Content. She wished she could see him look that way more often.

He smirked as she blushed, pulling back to see her face when she made her suggestion. It was impossible to miss the look on his own features before he attempted to bring them back to something resembling neutrality, an answering smile pulling at her own lips. Her thumb stroked over one of his dimples before it disappeared, some of her blush fading as her smile grew. His reaction seemed about the equivalent of someone else jumping and down with excitement, and she would take that as a resounding positive.

All of this was still so new to her in the grand scheme of things, even if she wasn’t exactly inexperienced. She doubted there was a single inch of her flesh that Emilios hadn’t explored and vice versa, but even all of that had only been within the past year, and only with him. Theodora knew what to expect of him as he did of her, but with Achilleas, it was like learning it all over again. It was nerve-wracking, but it was exciting too, in its own way. Either way, it still brought a blush to her cheeks and shyness along with it, something she hoped would fade sooner rather than later.

‘We should have done this years ago. Would you have had me? If I’d pursued you back then?

For a moment, Theodora paused, and even she didn’t know what to say. Would she have had him, if he had made his interest known more clearly? If she knew then what she knew now, most certainly. Had she known years ago that she would wed Achilleas, of course she would not have denied his courtship. She would not have had to waste years wondering where she would end up, and perhaps they could have become more comfortable with each other long before now.

But what of Emilios? If she could go back and change it all, knowing what they had together, would she have done it? Had she already been beholden to Achilleas, would her head have even turned in his brother’s direction? Or were some things just fated? What she shared with Emilios had always felt like destiny, but perhaps that was only because he was her first love, and she had nothing else to compare it to. Now, she was wed, and there was comparison to be had… so did she still feel the same way?

Gods, she didn’t know. Why did he have to ask this question?

Realizing he was still waiting on her answer, the queen forced her face to soften, reaching to brush a lock of hair from his forehead. “I wish you had,” she said with a smile that was almost sad, and there was truth in her assertion. If he had pursued her all those years before, things would be so much easier now, and perhaps so many complications could have been avoided along the way. “We could have bypassed some obstacles, I think,” she added with a quiet laugh. Pressing her lips to his for a moment, she cupped his jaw, her fingers scraping along the stubble of his chin. “Maybe it’s better this way, though,” she teased when she pulled back. “You would’ve gotten tired of me by now and never would have wanted to marry me.”

The tease dropped from her tone as she shifted to get more comfortable in his grasp. “There were times I thought over the years that you were interested in me, but it was like every time I got that feeling, you’d just withdraw and I would shrug it off. Eventually, I just figured you thought I was pretty, and that was it.” She shrugged. “Not everyone seems to look past that. But then the night of the festival last year…” She bit her lip and paused again—perhaps this was a dangerous topic to tread, considering the way that night had ended. However, with the way the pool was set up, it was a fairly difficult thing to avoid; clearly that night in Maliania had been the inspiration for all of this. “I wanted to go with you. I thought maybe I had read you correctly, after all, but then, well.” She didn’t reiterate what had happened that night; neither of their behavior had been… exemplary.

“Sometimes I wonder how different our lives would be now, that’s for sure.”