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"Skylla, my sister is coming to live with us," Lysander had said earlier that morning, but she really hadn't been listening. Admittedly, it sounded like utter gibberish to her. Her gaze had been on some book in coptic, her mind focusing on the secondary language in her mind rather than the words he spoke in greek. At first, she hadn't really responded, the words not connecting in the way that they should have. But that was the hint that she needed to pay attention. Lysander rarely said things unless they were important. Not a man for small-talk, Skylla had learned that the words he spoke were never useless or frivolous.
Closing her book, Skylla actually lifted her gaze to her mentor slash lover. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear that right," she apologized, though her voice wasn't sweet like it might have been with anyone else who didn't know her.
Lifting a dark eyebrow, the older Physician sighed through his nose. This time, he spoke in coptic. "My sister is coming to live with us," he noted, his tone imploring that he didn't have to repeat himself a second time. But the words had Skylla shifting up slightly, her brows furrowing a bit. What? But things were fine the way that they were. She wasn't going to give up the room that she paid Lysander for. Absolutely not.
"I'm not giving her my room," Skylla said lightly, which had Lysander rolling his eyes at her and waving her off like he hadn't thought about that prospect whatsoever. They were bedfellows, but they didn't sleep in the same bed. Sex and sleeping were two completely different things, and Skylla did not like Lysander the way she liked Lukos. She liked him well enough to jump him at every opportunity, but not enough to lay beside him at night, listening to his breathing the way she had listened to Lukos' when they were younger and Aceton had only barely slid back into the cove of their island home.
That was confirmation enough that her things were safe from a pretty intruder, though Skylla had never met Callidora to know if she was pretty. She would have rather not met her at all, and though she was curious, she didn't ask Lysander why where was another person coming to live in the modest homestead that the physician had procured for himself after years of study, practice, and making a name for himself in Greece and out.
What Skylla hadn't expected, however, was for Callidora to be moving in that very day, and it was the knocking upon the door of the home that had Skylla narrowing her eyes protectively at Lysander. Really? That was way too fast. Which meant he had known for a while. And hadn't told her. She'd make him pay later, and by the look in Lysander's eye, he knew what she was thinking, but said nothing.
Instead, the tall, dark-haired man moved to the door and opened it, his gaze dropping to the face of his little sister. "Dora," he greeted with a rare smile, reaching to pull her into a hug for approximately three seconds before he pulled back and reached down to take her bags for her. "My home is yours, but I would like you to meet someone before you settle in," Lysander noted, waiting for Callidora's confirmation before he stepped aside to let her into the home.
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"Skylla, my sister is coming to live with us," Lysander had said earlier that morning, but she really hadn't been listening. Admittedly, it sounded like utter gibberish to her. Her gaze had been on some book in coptic, her mind focusing on the secondary language in her mind rather than the words he spoke in greek. At first, she hadn't really responded, the words not connecting in the way that they should have. But that was the hint that she needed to pay attention. Lysander rarely said things unless they were important. Not a man for small-talk, Skylla had learned that the words he spoke were never useless or frivolous.
Closing her book, Skylla actually lifted her gaze to her mentor slash lover. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear that right," she apologized, though her voice wasn't sweet like it might have been with anyone else who didn't know her.
Lifting a dark eyebrow, the older Physician sighed through his nose. This time, he spoke in coptic. "My sister is coming to live with us," he noted, his tone imploring that he didn't have to repeat himself a second time. But the words had Skylla shifting up slightly, her brows furrowing a bit. What? But things were fine the way that they were. She wasn't going to give up the room that she paid Lysander for. Absolutely not.
"I'm not giving her my room," Skylla said lightly, which had Lysander rolling his eyes at her and waving her off like he hadn't thought about that prospect whatsoever. They were bedfellows, but they didn't sleep in the same bed. Sex and sleeping were two completely different things, and Skylla did not like Lysander the way she liked Lukos. She liked him well enough to jump him at every opportunity, but not enough to lay beside him at night, listening to his breathing the way she had listened to Lukos' when they were younger and Aceton had only barely slid back into the cove of their island home.
That was confirmation enough that her things were safe from a pretty intruder, though Skylla had never met Callidora to know if she was pretty. She would have rather not met her at all, and though she was curious, she didn't ask Lysander why where was another person coming to live in the modest homestead that the physician had procured for himself after years of study, practice, and making a name for himself in Greece and out.
What Skylla hadn't expected, however, was for Callidora to be moving in that very day, and it was the knocking upon the door of the home that had Skylla narrowing her eyes protectively at Lysander. Really? That was way too fast. Which meant he had known for a while. And hadn't told her. She'd make him pay later, and by the look in Lysander's eye, he knew what she was thinking, but said nothing.
Instead, the tall, dark-haired man moved to the door and opened it, his gaze dropping to the face of his little sister. "Dora," he greeted with a rare smile, reaching to pull her into a hug for approximately three seconds before he pulled back and reached down to take her bags for her. "My home is yours, but I would like you to meet someone before you settle in," Lysander noted, waiting for Callidora's confirmation before he stepped aside to let her into the home.
"Skylla, my sister is coming to live with us," Lysander had said earlier that morning, but she really hadn't been listening. Admittedly, it sounded like utter gibberish to her. Her gaze had been on some book in coptic, her mind focusing on the secondary language in her mind rather than the words he spoke in greek. At first, she hadn't really responded, the words not connecting in the way that they should have. But that was the hint that she needed to pay attention. Lysander rarely said things unless they were important. Not a man for small-talk, Skylla had learned that the words he spoke were never useless or frivolous.
Closing her book, Skylla actually lifted her gaze to her mentor slash lover. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear that right," she apologized, though her voice wasn't sweet like it might have been with anyone else who didn't know her.
Lifting a dark eyebrow, the older Physician sighed through his nose. This time, he spoke in coptic. "My sister is coming to live with us," he noted, his tone imploring that he didn't have to repeat himself a second time. But the words had Skylla shifting up slightly, her brows furrowing a bit. What? But things were fine the way that they were. She wasn't going to give up the room that she paid Lysander for. Absolutely not.
"I'm not giving her my room," Skylla said lightly, which had Lysander rolling his eyes at her and waving her off like he hadn't thought about that prospect whatsoever. They were bedfellows, but they didn't sleep in the same bed. Sex and sleeping were two completely different things, and Skylla did not like Lysander the way she liked Lukos. She liked him well enough to jump him at every opportunity, but not enough to lay beside him at night, listening to his breathing the way she had listened to Lukos' when they were younger and Aceton had only barely slid back into the cove of their island home.
That was confirmation enough that her things were safe from a pretty intruder, though Skylla had never met Callidora to know if she was pretty. She would have rather not met her at all, and though she was curious, she didn't ask Lysander why where was another person coming to live in the modest homestead that the physician had procured for himself after years of study, practice, and making a name for himself in Greece and out.
What Skylla hadn't expected, however, was for Callidora to be moving in that very day, and it was the knocking upon the door of the home that had Skylla narrowing her eyes protectively at Lysander. Really? That was way too fast. Which meant he had known for a while. And hadn't told her. She'd make him pay later, and by the look in Lysander's eye, he knew what she was thinking, but said nothing.
Instead, the tall, dark-haired man moved to the door and opened it, his gaze dropping to the face of his little sister. "Dora," he greeted with a rare smile, reaching to pull her into a hug for approximately three seconds before he pulled back and reached down to take her bags for her. "My home is yours, but I would like you to meet someone before you settle in," Lysander noted, waiting for Callidora's confirmation before he stepped aside to let her into the home.
It was with a heavy heart that Callidora approached the door of her brother’s home in Midas, the two meager bags she carried resting in half numb fingers. While she loved Lysander and was eternally grateful to him for this kindness he had shown her, would that circumstance had never allowed it. This was not where she was supposed to be. This was not who she was supposed to be with. She was too young to be a widow.
But the gods cared little for her age, it seemed, and for what was perhaps the thousandth time, the woman cursed the trip to Judea that had sealed her late husband’s fate. Not even Lysander had been able to save Demetrius when they had arrived home, and all her prayers had been for naught. He was gone within days of their arrival, and so was her life along with him. What was she to do now? Her parents had passed, her husband was gone, and only Callidora was left.
So, here she was, with hardly a penny to her name, most of her connections gone with her spouse. Homeless. Loveless. Alone. Yet lucky enough to have a warm-hearted brother to save her from destitution. Small blessings, she supposed. Though it was hard to feel blessed, not after so keen a loss.
Setting one of her bags down, her hand rose to knock on the door, sighing as she waited for Lysander to come and greet her. Her smile was weak, but it was there when he opened the door, returning his embrace with a shaky breath. “Lysander,” she returned his greeting with equal warmth, stepping back from his embrace when he released her. Though her grief was immeasurable, and she loved her brother with all the bits of broken heart left to her, Callidora was Colchian, and therefore emotion did not always come easily to her. Better to work, to keep her head up, and let things pass. No sense in lingering on sadness, no matter how that sadness threatened to break her.
There was a mild curiosity in her expression as her brother announced there was someone she should meet, stepping aside to let her in. Entering the house and setting her bags down near the doorway, that was when she spotted her. Emerald eyes widened in surprise as they took in the foreign-looking woman, frozen for a moment in her tracks. Gods, but she was beautiful. Why hadn’t her brother thought to mention that? Then again, why would he?
Careful not to seem like she was staring, Dora blinked a couple times and regained her composure. Approaching the woman, she held out a hand in greeting and put a little more effort into her smile. “I’m Callidora,” she introduced herself. “Or Dora, if you like. I hope I’m not imposing. I don’t know how much my brother has told you, but I’ve had… well, my life is in a bit of an uproar right now, to put it mildly. I don’t really have anywhere else to go.” There was tinge of the sadness she tried to hide in her expression as she gazed at the woman, clearing her throat as she shrugged. “But, what is there to do now, eh? What’s your name?”
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It was with a heavy heart that Callidora approached the door of her brother’s home in Midas, the two meager bags she carried resting in half numb fingers. While she loved Lysander and was eternally grateful to him for this kindness he had shown her, would that circumstance had never allowed it. This was not where she was supposed to be. This was not who she was supposed to be with. She was too young to be a widow.
But the gods cared little for her age, it seemed, and for what was perhaps the thousandth time, the woman cursed the trip to Judea that had sealed her late husband’s fate. Not even Lysander had been able to save Demetrius when they had arrived home, and all her prayers had been for naught. He was gone within days of their arrival, and so was her life along with him. What was she to do now? Her parents had passed, her husband was gone, and only Callidora was left.
So, here she was, with hardly a penny to her name, most of her connections gone with her spouse. Homeless. Loveless. Alone. Yet lucky enough to have a warm-hearted brother to save her from destitution. Small blessings, she supposed. Though it was hard to feel blessed, not after so keen a loss.
Setting one of her bags down, her hand rose to knock on the door, sighing as she waited for Lysander to come and greet her. Her smile was weak, but it was there when he opened the door, returning his embrace with a shaky breath. “Lysander,” she returned his greeting with equal warmth, stepping back from his embrace when he released her. Though her grief was immeasurable, and she loved her brother with all the bits of broken heart left to her, Callidora was Colchian, and therefore emotion did not always come easily to her. Better to work, to keep her head up, and let things pass. No sense in lingering on sadness, no matter how that sadness threatened to break her.
There was a mild curiosity in her expression as her brother announced there was someone she should meet, stepping aside to let her in. Entering the house and setting her bags down near the doorway, that was when she spotted her. Emerald eyes widened in surprise as they took in the foreign-looking woman, frozen for a moment in her tracks. Gods, but she was beautiful. Why hadn’t her brother thought to mention that? Then again, why would he?
Careful not to seem like she was staring, Dora blinked a couple times and regained her composure. Approaching the woman, she held out a hand in greeting and put a little more effort into her smile. “I’m Callidora,” she introduced herself. “Or Dora, if you like. I hope I’m not imposing. I don’t know how much my brother has told you, but I’ve had… well, my life is in a bit of an uproar right now, to put it mildly. I don’t really have anywhere else to go.” There was tinge of the sadness she tried to hide in her expression as she gazed at the woman, clearing her throat as she shrugged. “But, what is there to do now, eh? What’s your name?”
It was with a heavy heart that Callidora approached the door of her brother’s home in Midas, the two meager bags she carried resting in half numb fingers. While she loved Lysander and was eternally grateful to him for this kindness he had shown her, would that circumstance had never allowed it. This was not where she was supposed to be. This was not who she was supposed to be with. She was too young to be a widow.
But the gods cared little for her age, it seemed, and for what was perhaps the thousandth time, the woman cursed the trip to Judea that had sealed her late husband’s fate. Not even Lysander had been able to save Demetrius when they had arrived home, and all her prayers had been for naught. He was gone within days of their arrival, and so was her life along with him. What was she to do now? Her parents had passed, her husband was gone, and only Callidora was left.
So, here she was, with hardly a penny to her name, most of her connections gone with her spouse. Homeless. Loveless. Alone. Yet lucky enough to have a warm-hearted brother to save her from destitution. Small blessings, she supposed. Though it was hard to feel blessed, not after so keen a loss.
Setting one of her bags down, her hand rose to knock on the door, sighing as she waited for Lysander to come and greet her. Her smile was weak, but it was there when he opened the door, returning his embrace with a shaky breath. “Lysander,” she returned his greeting with equal warmth, stepping back from his embrace when he released her. Though her grief was immeasurable, and she loved her brother with all the bits of broken heart left to her, Callidora was Colchian, and therefore emotion did not always come easily to her. Better to work, to keep her head up, and let things pass. No sense in lingering on sadness, no matter how that sadness threatened to break her.
There was a mild curiosity in her expression as her brother announced there was someone she should meet, stepping aside to let her in. Entering the house and setting her bags down near the doorway, that was when she spotted her. Emerald eyes widened in surprise as they took in the foreign-looking woman, frozen for a moment in her tracks. Gods, but she was beautiful. Why hadn’t her brother thought to mention that? Then again, why would he?
Careful not to seem like she was staring, Dora blinked a couple times and regained her composure. Approaching the woman, she held out a hand in greeting and put a little more effort into her smile. “I’m Callidora,” she introduced herself. “Or Dora, if you like. I hope I’m not imposing. I don’t know how much my brother has told you, but I’ve had… well, my life is in a bit of an uproar right now, to put it mildly. I don’t really have anywhere else to go.” There was tinge of the sadness she tried to hide in her expression as she gazed at the woman, clearing her throat as she shrugged. “But, what is there to do now, eh? What’s your name?”
Lysander had put on a terse smile, watching his protege with an expression that warned her not to be up to anything funny or the least bit cruel. Even he knew and understand that the lovely woman he had taught the last few years had a mean streak, though he had never been on the other end of it himself. Still, he was optimistically cautious that maybe Skylla and Callidora would take to one another. They were both Colchian, but he knew his sister to be warm when she wanted to be, and that meant that maybe she would be able to soften up Skylla. Give her a bit of that feminine warmth that the young woman was so often lacking with patients. It was a long-shot, but having Callidora here served many purposes.
Not least of which was giving her the room to grieve away from what had once been her home with Demetrius. The man cleared his throat when he noticed Skylla looking at Callidora with an almost lion-like expression, as if she were a woman standing in Skylla's territory. He would swat her, he swore it.
But that wasn't at all what Skylla was thinking as she watched Dora enter the home. The first thought was that she was pretty. The second was that she was wildly curious about this woman that Lysander had brought here to live with them. It didn't matter that the girl was his sister, she was suddenly far more curious than she was trapped. Saying nothing at first, Skylla just watched Callidora approach her, forcing herself to shift and cross her arms over her chest to make herself appear just a little guarded.
Not too eager. Perfect.
"He hasn't said much. In fact, I didn't know that you existed until he mentioned you less than five minutes ago," Skylla admitted to the new guest in the home, shooting Lysander a look that pretty much said 'how dare you hide this from me'. The man suddenly found a half-finished cup of ale far more interesting than trying to look Skylla in the eye.
But now it was time to be a proper human being instead of an unfeeling cunt, as she had a tendency to be. Clearing her throat, Skylla offered Callidora her hand, taking the other woman's gently in her own in a rare show of comfort that she never even afforded her patients most of the time. "My name is Skylla," she introduced herself calmly, "Just Skylla, Dora," she nodded mostly to herself. "You can tell me about your life later," the woman added, "We shall find you space to sleep first," Skylla decidedly took charge right then, shooting Lysander another look that told him he was a fool for not preparing her earlier because they could have had everything sorted already instead of trying to do it all now.
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Lysander had put on a terse smile, watching his protege with an expression that warned her not to be up to anything funny or the least bit cruel. Even he knew and understand that the lovely woman he had taught the last few years had a mean streak, though he had never been on the other end of it himself. Still, he was optimistically cautious that maybe Skylla and Callidora would take to one another. They were both Colchian, but he knew his sister to be warm when she wanted to be, and that meant that maybe she would be able to soften up Skylla. Give her a bit of that feminine warmth that the young woman was so often lacking with patients. It was a long-shot, but having Callidora here served many purposes.
Not least of which was giving her the room to grieve away from what had once been her home with Demetrius. The man cleared his throat when he noticed Skylla looking at Callidora with an almost lion-like expression, as if she were a woman standing in Skylla's territory. He would swat her, he swore it.
But that wasn't at all what Skylla was thinking as she watched Dora enter the home. The first thought was that she was pretty. The second was that she was wildly curious about this woman that Lysander had brought here to live with them. It didn't matter that the girl was his sister, she was suddenly far more curious than she was trapped. Saying nothing at first, Skylla just watched Callidora approach her, forcing herself to shift and cross her arms over her chest to make herself appear just a little guarded.
Not too eager. Perfect.
"He hasn't said much. In fact, I didn't know that you existed until he mentioned you less than five minutes ago," Skylla admitted to the new guest in the home, shooting Lysander a look that pretty much said 'how dare you hide this from me'. The man suddenly found a half-finished cup of ale far more interesting than trying to look Skylla in the eye.
But now it was time to be a proper human being instead of an unfeeling cunt, as she had a tendency to be. Clearing her throat, Skylla offered Callidora her hand, taking the other woman's gently in her own in a rare show of comfort that she never even afforded her patients most of the time. "My name is Skylla," she introduced herself calmly, "Just Skylla, Dora," she nodded mostly to herself. "You can tell me about your life later," the woman added, "We shall find you space to sleep first," Skylla decidedly took charge right then, shooting Lysander another look that told him he was a fool for not preparing her earlier because they could have had everything sorted already instead of trying to do it all now.
Lysander had put on a terse smile, watching his protege with an expression that warned her not to be up to anything funny or the least bit cruel. Even he knew and understand that the lovely woman he had taught the last few years had a mean streak, though he had never been on the other end of it himself. Still, he was optimistically cautious that maybe Skylla and Callidora would take to one another. They were both Colchian, but he knew his sister to be warm when she wanted to be, and that meant that maybe she would be able to soften up Skylla. Give her a bit of that feminine warmth that the young woman was so often lacking with patients. It was a long-shot, but having Callidora here served many purposes.
Not least of which was giving her the room to grieve away from what had once been her home with Demetrius. The man cleared his throat when he noticed Skylla looking at Callidora with an almost lion-like expression, as if she were a woman standing in Skylla's territory. He would swat her, he swore it.
But that wasn't at all what Skylla was thinking as she watched Dora enter the home. The first thought was that she was pretty. The second was that she was wildly curious about this woman that Lysander had brought here to live with them. It didn't matter that the girl was his sister, she was suddenly far more curious than she was trapped. Saying nothing at first, Skylla just watched Callidora approach her, forcing herself to shift and cross her arms over her chest to make herself appear just a little guarded.
Not too eager. Perfect.
"He hasn't said much. In fact, I didn't know that you existed until he mentioned you less than five minutes ago," Skylla admitted to the new guest in the home, shooting Lysander a look that pretty much said 'how dare you hide this from me'. The man suddenly found a half-finished cup of ale far more interesting than trying to look Skylla in the eye.
But now it was time to be a proper human being instead of an unfeeling cunt, as she had a tendency to be. Clearing her throat, Skylla offered Callidora her hand, taking the other woman's gently in her own in a rare show of comfort that she never even afforded her patients most of the time. "My name is Skylla," she introduced herself calmly, "Just Skylla, Dora," she nodded mostly to herself. "You can tell me about your life later," the woman added, "We shall find you space to sleep first," Skylla decidedly took charge right then, shooting Lysander another look that told him he was a fool for not preparing her earlier because they could have had everything sorted already instead of trying to do it all now.
Callidora lifted a brow at her brother when Skylla said she didn’t know she even existed until this moment, shooting him a disbelieving look that said they would definitely be talking about this later. She had a few feelings on the matter—one, did he never speak of his sister? Was he somehow ashamed of her? They’d grown up close, so it stung a little that he shouldn’t even mention her. Had she been relegated to the family embarrassment? And on top of that… how could he not inform the woman living with him that someone else would soon be joining the equation? Then again, he was a man. He probably didn’t feel the need to bother himself with such niceties.
And speaking of the woman living with him… turning back toward Skylla, Dora studied her for a moment. Glancing between the two, she wondered if there was something else going on there, something beyond master and apprentice. Lysander had never been the type to be overly vocal about his affairs, and if she was living with him, Dora had a feeling her intuition might be correct. However, she made no comment. If her brother wanted to live with his mistress, who was she to stop him? Gods knew she’d been in more scandalous positions before.
“It’s nice to meet you, Skylla,” she responded as the lovely woman gave her name, a small smile ghosting over her lips. “My brother never told me about you, either, so I suppose we’ve got that in common, eh?” Lysander at least had the grace to look sheepish at that, though Dora’s attention didn’t linger on him for long. Turning back to Skylla, she forced her smile to return. “Yes, a place to lay my head would be lovely. I should like to retire within the hour, I think. It’s… been a long day.”
It felt odd that her brother’s… apprentice, mistress, friend, whatever she was… should be the one leading her through his house, assigning her sleeping quarters, rather than the other way around. However, Dora’s life had taken a lot of strange turns lately, and this was hardly the strangest. At least she seemed nice enough. And it certainly didn’t hurt that she was such a delight to look upon.
Not that it mattered. Particularly after her husband’s loss, it was not an attraction she would act upon.
“How long have you been living here, Skylla?” she asked politely as the other woman led her down the hall. “Has my brother been tutoring you long?” Dora knew he rarely took on students, so the fact that he had taken on this one said something about her. “You couldn’t have found a better teacher. Lysander is much smarter than he lets on, though I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now.”
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Callidora lifted a brow at her brother when Skylla said she didn’t know she even existed until this moment, shooting him a disbelieving look that said they would definitely be talking about this later. She had a few feelings on the matter—one, did he never speak of his sister? Was he somehow ashamed of her? They’d grown up close, so it stung a little that he shouldn’t even mention her. Had she been relegated to the family embarrassment? And on top of that… how could he not inform the woman living with him that someone else would soon be joining the equation? Then again, he was a man. He probably didn’t feel the need to bother himself with such niceties.
And speaking of the woman living with him… turning back toward Skylla, Dora studied her for a moment. Glancing between the two, she wondered if there was something else going on there, something beyond master and apprentice. Lysander had never been the type to be overly vocal about his affairs, and if she was living with him, Dora had a feeling her intuition might be correct. However, she made no comment. If her brother wanted to live with his mistress, who was she to stop him? Gods knew she’d been in more scandalous positions before.
“It’s nice to meet you, Skylla,” she responded as the lovely woman gave her name, a small smile ghosting over her lips. “My brother never told me about you, either, so I suppose we’ve got that in common, eh?” Lysander at least had the grace to look sheepish at that, though Dora’s attention didn’t linger on him for long. Turning back to Skylla, she forced her smile to return. “Yes, a place to lay my head would be lovely. I should like to retire within the hour, I think. It’s… been a long day.”
It felt odd that her brother’s… apprentice, mistress, friend, whatever she was… should be the one leading her through his house, assigning her sleeping quarters, rather than the other way around. However, Dora’s life had taken a lot of strange turns lately, and this was hardly the strangest. At least she seemed nice enough. And it certainly didn’t hurt that she was such a delight to look upon.
Not that it mattered. Particularly after her husband’s loss, it was not an attraction she would act upon.
“How long have you been living here, Skylla?” she asked politely as the other woman led her down the hall. “Has my brother been tutoring you long?” Dora knew he rarely took on students, so the fact that he had taken on this one said something about her. “You couldn’t have found a better teacher. Lysander is much smarter than he lets on, though I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now.”
Callidora lifted a brow at her brother when Skylla said she didn’t know she even existed until this moment, shooting him a disbelieving look that said they would definitely be talking about this later. She had a few feelings on the matter—one, did he never speak of his sister? Was he somehow ashamed of her? They’d grown up close, so it stung a little that he shouldn’t even mention her. Had she been relegated to the family embarrassment? And on top of that… how could he not inform the woman living with him that someone else would soon be joining the equation? Then again, he was a man. He probably didn’t feel the need to bother himself with such niceties.
And speaking of the woman living with him… turning back toward Skylla, Dora studied her for a moment. Glancing between the two, she wondered if there was something else going on there, something beyond master and apprentice. Lysander had never been the type to be overly vocal about his affairs, and if she was living with him, Dora had a feeling her intuition might be correct. However, she made no comment. If her brother wanted to live with his mistress, who was she to stop him? Gods knew she’d been in more scandalous positions before.
“It’s nice to meet you, Skylla,” she responded as the lovely woman gave her name, a small smile ghosting over her lips. “My brother never told me about you, either, so I suppose we’ve got that in common, eh?” Lysander at least had the grace to look sheepish at that, though Dora’s attention didn’t linger on him for long. Turning back to Skylla, she forced her smile to return. “Yes, a place to lay my head would be lovely. I should like to retire within the hour, I think. It’s… been a long day.”
It felt odd that her brother’s… apprentice, mistress, friend, whatever she was… should be the one leading her through his house, assigning her sleeping quarters, rather than the other way around. However, Dora’s life had taken a lot of strange turns lately, and this was hardly the strangest. At least she seemed nice enough. And it certainly didn’t hurt that she was such a delight to look upon.
Not that it mattered. Particularly after her husband’s loss, it was not an attraction she would act upon.
“How long have you been living here, Skylla?” she asked politely as the other woman led her down the hall. “Has my brother been tutoring you long?” Dora knew he rarely took on students, so the fact that he had taken on this one said something about her. “You couldn’t have found a better teacher. Lysander is much smarter than he lets on, though I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now.”
