Aea trailed her uncles down the lane and toward the wild craigs, her almost perpetual grin from earlier now quieted into a small, barely-there smile. The bear pendant she’d taken from the rich man earlier rested safely between her breasts with her two owls and her small knife. It had been a good day. A great day.

All too soon, though, the day had ended and the fantasy broken. Now it was back to camp and onto the boat the next morning so they could go to Athenia for some spice market that she would—hopefully—be allowed to attend. She was already getting ideas for the next con. Hopefully Uncle Dasmo would let her help him next time instead. Soothsaying would certainly be less nerve-wracking than public performance and she was fairly certain that her exceptional ability to lie and weave a story would come in quite handy.

It was thanks to Uncle Cassero and Kaia’s impromptu temple visit that she knew she was capable of more than she had ever known. Had she no need to gain her uncle’s full attention for Kaia to slip away, she might have never known that she could wield an improvised tune. She should have known, she’d been doing it all her life, but to do it in public had been a test of skill, and Apollo had smiled on her today. Perhaps it was vain, and she would never utter it aloud, but she liked to imagine that he favored her in general.

There was no reason for it, for she was not important enough to warrant such preference, but she imagined it all the same. It made her feel like she was something of consequence, and what person didn’t dream of such a thing. So, in the privacy of her mind, she was his conduit on this day. His little wolf howling for the moon to fall so that the sun could once again rise.

Aea climbed the shelves of the cliff face, inching side-long until there was nothing but the sea below her and a sloped incline ahead. Dasmo had Kelosi slung across his shoulders while Gatheron hauled her cart with him, red and yellow flowers catching on the evening breeze and flying into the night, into the sea.

When they got to their camp on the first plateau of the cliff, Aea rolled onto the flat surface and breathed a content sigh. She could smell that her father had already started dinner. Stew again. When she was small and her eating habits were so picky that Callie had worried she’d die, her foster mother would use a smooth stone and drop it into the boiling water. She’d convinced Aea that it was a magical soup stone. Whenever Aea would close her eyes and eat, she’d taste the carrots and potatoes, the chicken and the tomatoes and marrow bone. Now, she didn’t have to pretend, she just scarfed down whatever was in front of her. After eating, she’d go directly to bed. She was exhausted.

She stayed laying for some time. Enough to begin to drift off without needing to fill her belly at all. Too soon, though, Hektos snapped her awake with the mere sound of his voice.

“Aea,” he called.

She tensed and shook off her tiredness before slowly rolling her head to look at her father, who was sitting to the back of a shallow cave. He was using a very calm, smooth tone. Very rarely was that the voice he used when he was actually happy. To reinforce her suspicion, Cassero was walking away from him.

Slowly, she sat up and got to her feet before walking to her father as she oriented herself fully into the waking world. The cool air of the cave pocket chilled her once warm skin.

Hektos sat upon a stone beside the fire, his hands on his bent knees. He silently took a wooden bowl from the large sack next to him and dipped it into the boiling pot sitting in the fire. He held it out to Aea, watered broth dripping from the lip of the bowl to the cave floor below. When she reached her father, she took the bowl in both hands.

The others had read Hektos’ mood and knew well enough to stay away until he left. More times than not, Aea wished she wasn’t herself. Hektos never turned his temper on his brothers, only she and Kaia, and Agolois would never let Hektos harm his daughter, so Kaia never got in trouble like Aea did.

“Eat. Quickly,” he grunted.

Aea obediently blew on the surface of the soup, the cooked mush of apples and grain stirring in the wake of her breath. At least he didn’t make her eat it while it was still hot enough to scorch her throat. He’d done that once and she’d cried so hard from the pain that she was certain he regretted it later. She couldn’t eat anything but cold and liquified oats for two days after.

Once the stew had cooled enough, she devoured it and could have taken seconds or thirds, but Hektos was already standing and walking to the cave entrance. She hurriedly put her bowl down and followed him without having to be told. After seventeen years, one tended to get acquainted with expectations.

Hektos towered over his brothers when he stopped at the edge of the ledge to tell them they had business within the hour, so hurry up and eat. Aea didn’t know what business he was talking about, but she never did. While she might ask anybody else what they meant, her father was one of the only people she would never question.

She loved him, respected his authority in a way that she would never recognize in anybody else, but she was also terrified of him and that was no secret. She would have killed him long ago had he not been her father, but he held her paralyzed in love. She could never hurt him, and although sometimes she fantasized about it, she knew she could not unlove him enough to actually do so.

He was not a bad man, and she knew he loved her. To not love her was...well, she did not know if she could stand it. Aea could take pain. She could take a stab, a strike, a bone break, a bleeding, she could take a lot. But her heart was tender in some spots, weak for some people, and her greatest flaw was that she could not simply eject those whom she should have discredited long ago. That she was human was her greatest failure.

Aea’s father led her from the shallow cave and up the cliffs. Agogos shot away from the rock wall as soon as he saw Hektos’ stormy countenance. Aea's father had never struck her bird, not with palm nor with rock. He was a pious man and his temper was no match for his fear of a God.

She looked up when her father hoisted himself on a high ledge and closed her eyes, praying that he would be more happy that she did well than angry because she didn’t obey Cassero. On the count of three, she hoisted herself up to the ledge and scooted as far away from the edge as she could. Rising high above them was the upper tiers of the high cliff that tapered into a high point. She was glad he had not picked a spot up there, at least.

Hektos sat on the ground, and there was very little space upon the ledge, so she sat next to him with enough room between them that he wouldn’t get irritated if her knee accidentally brushed his own.

She stared out at the evening sky, the body of the sea stretched as far as she could see. The stars and moon were out in full force, shining bright on the cliff. It was a dangerous climb up, but it would be more so coming down. If she fell from here, she would either land on the outcropping where her family was, or she would tumble down the inclined cliff and fall into the sea. Though truthfully, she’d stopped being afraid of falling when she was a gangly young girl.

She dared not speak before Hektos did, and he had yet to open his mouth yet. Aea bent her head and studied her father’s face from behind the curtain of hair escaping her epiblema. Hektos had burn marks from spattered across his jaw from battle pitch, and his nose sat sideways from an old break. His coarse black beard crawled wildly up his cheeks and down his neck, making him look like a barbarian rather than anybody’s father.

She’d always thought her father was handsome, though. He had thick black eyebrows that arched high above his deep brown eyes, and his bone structure was strong and chiseled. Or maybe she only thought him handsome because she loved him. It was difficult to tell how subjective she was on the topic of her family. They were, until recently, the only people she’d ever known.

Hektos suddenly lifted his arm and Aea stayed completely still, waiting on a strike. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her until she was molded to his side and under his arm. She stayed stiff for a moment, but then she relaxed into the warmth and snuggled into his side, burying her face into his shirt to hide the happy crinkle of her eyes as she smiled. Not once did she feel the overwhelming need to get away from the hug, nor did her skin crawl, nor did she flinch. She wished she felt this comfortable with everyone, and then maybe she would not have felt so uncomfortable in her own skin when Lady Ophelia had accidentally brushed her palm.

This though, this was wonderful. She liked nothing better than being held. It was safe, warm, and full of an unspoken and unshakable love. After Callie died, Aea only felt such warmth on rare occasions such as this. She missed it. Her father smelled like seawater and sweat, not a particularly great smell, but to her there was no sweet scent in the world that could compete. It smelled like home.

“Cassero tells me you did well.”

Aea bit back on an even bigger smile and didn’t answer because it wasn’t a question.

“He also said that a Taengean noble took interest in you. Whispered some words in your ear.”

Her smile slowly began to disappear. Hektos looked down expectantly at her and she hurriedly found the words she needed to explain that it was not what it had looked like, though she couldn’t be sure what it looked like to Cassero to begin with.

“Yes,” she blurted, craning her neck to look up at her father, “but it was nothing untoward or threatening. She only said that if I were in trouble, to seek her out. I think she saw Uncle Gatheron looking at us and got the wrong impression.”

Hektos made a thoughtful hum and she relaxed, glad that he did not take offense. Lady Ophelia was kind and only thought Aea was in trouble, she should not be paid for her kindness with Hektos’ fury.

“Certainly she must have, but—” Hektos leaned down and kissed the top of her head, robbing Aea of speech and the ability to do much more than bury her face into his shirt again. He never did that. “—this gives us an opportunity, I think. She would let you into her residence if you were in trouble?”

Aea nodded.

“And what sorts of riches do you think are hidden away in the home of a noble?”

Oh. No, she didn’t want her father to do that. Not to Lady Ophelia. Anybody else, yes, anybody that wasn’t so pure of soul. Aea didn’t want her father to hurt her. She didn’t want Lady Ophelia’s heart to darken, even if it were just a shade heavier and not blackened entirely.

“I can’t. I-I-I can’t go there, she would...and it’s not...I can’t.” she shook her head, realized her mistake, and pulled herself from Hektos' hold before he could cast wrath upon her. He didn’t like it when she said she couldn't do something, hated it, even. But even as she waited for the blow, he did not strike her.

Slowly, Hektos reached over and planted his hand atop her head. She did not flinch. When he began to peel her epiblema away from her, though, her hands flew to the material and she pulled her epiblema tighter to her face, a habit she picked up as a child. Hektos didn’t like it when he could see her face. He said it was malformed and made him queasy. Gatheron said it wasn’t true, and that she was so beautiful that the moon envied her. She didn’t know who to believe, and it was all very confusing, but it didn’t matter anyway because if she did not cover her face, her father’s mood careened frighteningly fast, and yet he was revealing it to his own eyes anyway.

When he tugged again, more insistent, she could do nothing but take her hands from her face and let him do as he wished. He was her father. She had to do what he said. When her face was bare, she wrapped her arms around herself and looked down, folding in on her body for no other reason than to protect her middle like an animal with a soft belly.

Hektos’ calloused palm cupped her jaw and he lifted her face. She bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes, heart heart picking up its pacing until it hammered in her breast like the pounding of a horse’s gallop. It was better when he simply led in with his fists instead of this, whatever this was. She did not know when the blow would come and that gave her more of a fear of it.

When she was made to look up at him, she found a soft, small smile on his face and she relaxed again. She hated this. To be kept in apprehension was cruel, to not know how to act and respond was worse.

“You remind me so much of your mother. Sometimes I look at you and it pains me. Perhaps the Gods cursed me for my crimes, and now I am to forever look upon her.” He brushed a rough thumb along her cheek and she didn’t dare speak. He mentioned her sometimes when he was drunk, but it was always ‘that woman,’ never ‘your mother’ or ever her name. He never said Aea reminded him of her, and it was both terrifying and validating to feel that ghost of a connection. That somewhere in the world, if such a woman was still alive, that she was part of Aea.

Hektos dropped his hand from her face and wrapped his arm around her shoulder to pull her in for a tight hug again. “She was the most beautiful creature in all of Colchis, a true noblewoman. That’s why I had to take you, you know. Her family wouldn’t suffer a bastard. She loved you very much and wanted you away, where you would be safe.”

He sighed deeply from his nostrils and gazed out to the sea. “A smile from her was more brilliant than the sun itself. Men crawled at her feet and women cursed her for breathing, and she chose me out of all the great lords and kings she could have had.”

Aea did not know how to begin to untangle everything he said. Hektos lied all the time, she’d caught him in plenty of them. He was probably lying now, but to what end? And what if he wasn’t lying? But if he wasn’t, why did he call her disfigured and make her cover her face? If it was because he did not enjoy the image of her mother, why could he simply not say so?

She wanted, desperately, to know. She wanted her mother’s name, she wanted to see her face and witness her character. Hektos kissed her on the head again, this time upon her bared black hair. “I know your heart, and I know your fear. Remember, you can do this. The lady is probably being hosted by Colchian nobles, so you will only be thieving from them, not her.”

Aea’s heart dropped low in her belly.

“Think of all the food we could have. You could have a new tunic, too. And—” he cocked an eyebrow, “I will tell you all you wish to know of your mother on your birthday next moon. You will know her name if you do well.”

She did not want to do this thing he was asking of her. Lady Ophelia didn’t deserve for her trust to be so thoroughly broken. Aea would rather rob the king himself before the Lady. But Hektos was not asking Aea to rob the king, he was not offering her a piece of something she’d dreamed of since she was a child. And even if he was lying, it would be a beautiful dream that Aea could hold until she died. She would even have her name.

Lady Ophelia’s smile came unbidden to Aea’s mind. She didn’t deserve this. But then...Aea wanted her mothers name. More than that, now that Hektos revealed the possibility that Aea could have the woman’s name, she needed it. Aea finally nodded her head in agreement. I’m sorry.

“My sweet girl. How I love you for such a thing, but do not feel remorse. They are only nobles. Everything they have, they stole from the common folk. They are the reason we cannot have a house. They are the reason your mother could not keep you.” Hektos took a deep breath and his big chest expanded.

They sat together quietly for a breath, five breaths, Hektos holding Aea and Aea snatching every precious moment of his affection to keep with her always. He said he loved her, and nothing in this mortal realm could make her heart soar as high. And even though her apprehension far outweighed the excitement of Hektos’ gift, her longing for her father's approval and for a mother she’d never known devoured all of it.

But...she did not want this responsibility. There had to be something she could do or say to change what the fates presented, there always was. Yes...there was something.
"Papa?"

"Hm?"

"I need to tell you something." Gods, please let him see the opportunity in what she said, and not her disobedience. 

Hektos' frame stiffened. It was slight, but she felt it, and it in turn make her tense up as well. She did not pull away, though. "I met Princess Athanasia."

He was staring at the top of her head now, she could feel it. Aea coaxed a large, soothing billow of wind into her lungs, gathered all of her thoughts, and hurled them from her mouth. "Before the festival, I mean. But a-a-at the festival, I saw her again and she told me I could come to dinner with her tomorrow night. A-a-and there's going to be a lot of rich people, not just Lady Ophelia, so can I just go there instead? I can get more than if we did your plan."

She held her breath and ducked her head, waiting for his judgement. She hoped he said yes. She wanted to go so badly, but she didn't know how to tell Asia that she couldn't. Maybe now she wouldn't have to, and she'd show up at her friend's house just like she said she would. And she would just steal from somebody she didn't know, and there would be loads of scraps in the kitchen. She would just be posing as a servant and she wouldn't get caught. Aea was an exceptionally quiet girl, that's why she was always sent ahead to cut off paths and redirect prey to a new route, if not simply attack them from the front or harry them into the woods.

Hektos had said nothing yet. Dread crept up her throat and her insides twisted. "I-I-I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't know it was her, she was just out in the woods in a tunic, so she just looked like a common girl andIdidn'trobherbecauseshedidn'thaveany—"

The strike to her head was swift. Heavy. One moment she was under her father's arm and the next, she was knocked to the side, catching herself expertly before her face bounced against the hard rock beneath her. Aea's head thrummed with a dull, wide ache, like a ceramic hammer tapping the top of her skull. She didn't move, but she did cover her face and stifle her mouth with her forearm. 

"If I ever catch you speaking with anybody I haven't given leave for you to speak with, you'll get worse than that." His voice quieted to a growl. "Did you sneak out of camp to meet her?"

"No. She was at the creek as I did the washing." Aea lied, her own voice dulling. Her psyche stood from its intangible domain and quit Hektos' presence as it always did. It dulled everything to a point where Aea could barely feel anything, not even guilt for the actions that led her to this.

She heard Hektos spit on the ground. "You're a lying little bitch. Princess. As I live and breathe, I've not heard such a stupid story in all my fucking life."

In her head she was flying through thick clouds like an arrow, racing over and through them, the roar of the sea obscured beneath the white vapors. Just ahead was an island, and she put all sorts of creatures there. Nymphs, satyrs, horses, mice, centaurs, and all manner of creatures that had never existed before. 

No second strike came. Instead, Hektos got to his feet. "I'll see if there's a fucking dinner. Gatheron will deal with you if there is." 

Her father muttered to himself as he swung his feet over the edge of the ledge to clamber back down. The last thing she heard was him shouting 'princess, ha!' 

Aea didn't move until the sound of crusted, crumbling dirt and aggressive sandals kicking into footholds had all but disappeared. When all she could hear was the soft whistle of the wind, she looked up and a smile, unbidden and happy, crossed her mouth. She could really go. There would be so much food, she was just excited at the prospect of trying anything besides stew and game. Even if it was already half-eaten.